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Opinion: The Real Substance Of Prince Of Persia's Style
by Tom Cross [PC, Console/PC, Columns, Exclusive]
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January 13, 2009
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[In this opinion piece, writer Tom Cross explores Ubisoft's new Prince of Persia game and why it sets a new standard for creating characters players care about -- disagreeing with the majority of the gaming press on the "style over substance" argument.]
It’s not exactly a secret that I’m a fan of games with strong narratives, and am often willing to sacrifice a certain amount of gameplay and interface quality in the pursuit of interesting characters, stories and dialogues.
When I started playing the newest Prince of Persia, I suspected that I’d found one of those rare games that was completely willing to subject itself to the rigors of actual storytelling and narrative substance. I was correct, and had one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had playing a game.
Imagine my surprise, then, when it became apparent that most of the gaming press disagreed with me. People have criticized its emphasis of "style over substance," a demerit that I can’t believe people are still using, seeing as it relies on some extremely problematic assumptions concerning the definitions of the words "style" and "substance."
The game has also been criticized for its lack of control and interface complexity, its lack of general gameplay complexity, and finally the (strangely virulent) accusation that the new Prince’s dialogue and voice don’t correspond with how the Prince "should" be, or with PoP’s tone.
This was a problem that plagued another PoP game, Warrior Within. At the risk of splitting hairs, it should be noted that that game was part of the Sands of Time universe, whereas this Prince is a completely different creature, inhabiting a different world. People might expect a certain kind of Prince, but it’s obvious that they’re doing so due to prior Princely outings.
More specifically, people seem to have an idea about how the Prince should sound and what his world should look like, and while it’s never exactly articulated in the reviews, that idea seems to clash strongly with the game’s sense of humor, which is to say, with the Prince’s.
People don’t seem to think -- at the risk of putting it crudely -- he sounds foreign enough; he’s too straightforwardly American-seeming. The gameplay, too, is too straightforward for most reviewers, which seems to have bored them and not to have challenged them enough -- it’s too easy, they say, to make your way through the game’s levels.
 New Prince, New Princess, New Tricks?
Quickly then, we must examine the basics of this new PoP. As always, you control the titular Prince. In this adventure, you stumble upon a hidden kingdom, ruled over by a dying people and their last Princess, Elika. Elika’s father unleashes an ancient evil upon the land, and you and Elika must put a stop to it. To this end, the Prince flings himself from ledge to pillar to slope, with Elika following by means of acrobatic prowess and magic.
Unlike previous PoP games by Ubisoft, when the Prince fails a jump or misses a pillar, you cannot rewind time to a point before your mistake. Instead Elika will appear by your side, and spirit you back to solid ground. Thus, Elika turns what would be a death-inducing mistake into a save.
In practice, this means that Elika will transport you to the last patch of solid ground the Prince encountered. Likewise, should the Prince fail again and again in combat, Elika will stun your opponents, gaining you some time to recover; at the same time, the opponents will regenerate some health. At most you’ll lose a few minutes of play, at the least, seconds.
It’s this mechanic, and the Prince’s abilities (and how you manipulate him) that have so many people up in arms. When compared to the Prince’s moves as seen in Sands of Time, this Prince is both more agile and less precise an acrobat. While he may be able to scale walls and slide along surfaces in a much more fluid and beautiful fashion, he does so relying on fewer player inputs.
Before, the height of the Prince’s jump would have to be calculated, along with the timing necessary to dodge multiple traps and enemies. Now, one doesn’t encounter such complicated obstacles until the last few areas of the game. Perhaps this is the problem people have: the game works its way up to a certain level of complexity, one which doesn’t come close to matching the last game’s (infuriating) Dark/Light Prince platforming segments.
That’s all well and good, you might say, but why does navigating this changing environment have to be so simple?
A Worthy Tradeoff
It seems to me that Ubisoft came to a point (or perhaps had decided on this from the beginning) where they began to create a gameplay experience that made itself as unobtrusive as possible, while still providing a set of gameplay situations that required a modicum of the player’s attention and skill. Even a person completely unfamiliar with games could master the game’s final boss, due to the fact that the game’s difficulty ramps up from easy to slightly less easy.
Even the game’s longer, tenser segments are surmountable, given one or two retries. When new gameplay elements are added to the Prince’s world, they fall into two very strict categories: new combinations of previously-available inputs (boss battles, extended platforming sequences), or a set of "plates" that allow for slightly different methods of traversing the environment. These plates are unlocked through the collection of "light seeds," orbs that allow Elika to drive the darkness from the land, and (handily) unlock new portions of the map to explore.
What’s hard to describe about the Prince’s movements is the way they work so well with the controls to draw you into the world. You may be using fewer timed presses to slide and wind your way through towering dungeons and aging marketplaces, but the Prince moves in such an exuberant, exaggerated manner that you’re transported, just watching him transcend one obstacle after another.
When you look back at the massive landscape you’ve traversed, you won’t be complaining about the game’s difficulty. As the Prince and Elika bounce from one dirigible to another, high among the clouds, you couldn’t ask for a more breathtaking series of acrobatics. To put it bluntly, I’d trade this beautiful ballet for the simpler control scheme any day.
All of this is to say that Prince of Persia offers little challenge to an experienced gamer, once they’ve learned its ins and outs. Then again, I’m not sure why this is such a failing. Yes, if I wanted to play the game again, it wouldn’t be that different of an experience. It is not, as many reviewers would say, a "substantial" offering. It’s a game that you’ll play and love (or hate), and then put down for a long, long time.
 "Substance," Meet Elika
So how is this "style" over "substance?" What do those ideas mean? Reviewers, in making that division, and saying the game’s too easy, seem to equate difficulty with a sense of accomplishment or of fun "attained" and experienced.
Thus, story, narrative and plotting are deemed to be "style," while difficulty, method of control, and complexity of gameplay and interface are deemed to be "substance."
I’ve discussed elsewhere how such a limiting view can be dangerous, and I feel like the response to Prince of Persia is a perfect example of the pitfalls of such an approach to gaming and game design. If this Prince is so lacking in what everybody else calls substance, maybe we should look for the meat of its experience in its style.
In Prince of Persia, narrative development and complication are much more important than the complication and expansion of various gameplay tropes. The game is much more concerned with upping the dramatic ante (by suggesting that Elika may have misled the Prince with regard to her past or her intentions, for instance).
This is not to say that gameplay is completely simplistic in Prince of Persia. As mentioned above, the game is constructed to provide a seamless, flowing experience that attempts to simulate the type of acrobatic movement practiced by the Prince.
Working hand in hand with these simplified controls is the story of PoP. Prince of Persia takes a very interesting approach to storytelling, creating a process that the player is constantly involved in, although the game uses many other devices to maintain its propulsive and creative narrative. At any point in the game, the player can talk to Elika, discussing their situation and their pasts, getting to know each other. These conversations are universally well-written and engrossing, and there are more of them than you could ask for.
These conversations are completely optional, and yet they work perfectly with the in-game back-chatter and other reminders of the duo’s relationship. By creating systems that provide for storytelling on a fairly low-impact level (this is not a Blizzard cutscene), the game creates the sense that their relationship is one that makes up the very foundation of the world.
As integral to the Prince’s quest as his abilities and attacks is his ability to remain close to and converse with Elika. You’ll want to converse with her at every opportunity, so interesting are the conversations. Depending on how much you’ve talked with Elika (and on how far into the game you are), your conversations range from silly and superficial (the Prince teasing Elika with a game of "I Spy"), to mocking flirtation, to alarming questions about Elika’s true motivations for saving her lost city.
Evolving The Relationship
The Prince’s changing feelings toward Elika are constant factors in their relationship. Initially, the in-game back-chatter between the two is laced with animosity, sarcasm, and worry. The prince and Elika are constantly running past each other as you explore the game world, and the Prince frequently carries Elika on his back. At first, he complains about Elika’s weight, while she mocks him for complaining.
As the game progresses, so does their friendship, and their chatter changes. Elika stops berating the Prince for falling, and instead worries for his safety. Likewise, the Prince, apologizes for dislodging her during complicated acrobatics. The tone of a gameplay mechanic changes along with the story. It’s a subtle trick, but it matters a good deal to hear Elika and the Prince express convincing-sounding worry for each other. How could you not share their feelings?
In a way, the environment is an even more important character than your enemies: the Prince and Elika constantly reflect upon their surroundings, and they react to changes in those surroundings, good or bad. To play PoP is to be forcibly thrown into a world where you must notice your surroundings, if only because the only two constant speakers are themselves obsessed with it.
Outside of the aforementioned player-activated conversations, the story is told through cutscenes of the traditional variety. Still, PoP manages distinguish itself even in this most familiar of areas. Instead of story segments punctuating increasingly difficult or protracted gameplay segments, gameplay is punctuated by increasingly dramatic and revelatory story sequences.
While the Prince and Elika may face slightly increased levels of difficulty, the true payoff in PoP comes from deep, engaging cutscenes and dialogue, all of which help to ground us in Elika’s kingdom.
I emphasize these words because it is obvious that when a story gains momentum and moves closer to its conclusion, it (out of tradition, in our society) reaches new heights of drama and tension. This is by no means a rule that must be followed closely; in fact, one could substitute such a statement by claiming that as a narrative progresses, its players often reach new conclusions regarding each other. They may even change their perspective on issues vital to the plot, to our (lack of) surprise.
This is where my favorite part of PoP comes into play. I may find the game’s difficulty to be perfectly balanced (it lets me experience the game, not beat it), and I may enjoy the flowing, simplified platforming, but my favorite part of this game is Elika, and how she becomes your companion and friend.
The Prince is also a deep character, to a degree, and he does change (as the developers have said, in a rather Han Solo fashion). However, it's Elika who is a miracle of modern game design. She is made a more important character than I’ve seen in any other game. She is vital to your cause from a story and gameplay standpoint. Without her, you would die time and again, and regardless of what people say, this is a debt that the player feels for the whole game.
It’s interesting to notice that people have seen Elika as a fanciful save system. When they write of her, it’s to complain about how minor an improvement she is over the Sands of Time technique of time reversal. What they don’t seem to realize is that by making Elika a constant and vital part of the Prince’s environment, Ubisoft has made her more important than any other element of the game.
 Through Elika's Eyes
As the Prince, you see the world from one point of view, but Elika is a crucial part of that point of view. You can’t save the land without her; likewise, enemies can only be killed (or saved) through her understanding and magic.
The Prince, though he wants to be completely independent (like Han Solo), can never be the center of this story. From the instant he meets Elika, the world the player inhabits quickly narrows to a point, following Elika. She is your friend and your link to this new land, your tour guide and friend, an enigmatic ally whose goals may not actually be in keeping with your own.
Her worries, wants, secrets and past are all key to the experience of PoP. The Prince may want to escape to his donkey and his wandering life, but he quickly becomes caught up in Elika’s tale. At the end of the game, the Prince, despite being callous and independent-minded, ends up believably choosing to save Elika instead of completing the mission that he and Elika have fought for. And it’s a good objective, of the highest importance -— saving the land, and ultimately the rest of the world.
It’s the rare game that makes you pick between two goods, leaving behind the thing you’ve fought for the whole game in favor of your love interest. Here’s one place that Prince shows a strong resemblance to its spiritual predecessor, Shadow of the Colossus.
This Prince of Persia is many things good and bad, but for me, it has been one of the more enthralling experiences provided by a video game. It eschews frustrating, punishing gameplay tropes, and instead follows a hugely unpopular and successful (at its aim) path: it aims to create a continuous, enjoyable, flowing experience, one unhindered by the mechanical, artificial traditions of “achievement” and “fun” that so many games cling to.
Here is a game that asks you to enjoy yourself, and its fiction, and attempts to make these goals as attainable as possible. I can’t think of a more welcome trend to introduce to the industry, and I wish Ubisoft well, especially if they continue to produce products of such impressive quality and passion.
[Tom Cross writes for Gamers' Temple and blogs about video games at shouldntbegaming.wordpress.com. You can contact him at romain47 at gmail dot com.]
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That exact phrase went through my head as I played it. This style of game--a "pure interactive fantasy" I want to call it--deserves a place of honor in the industry.
Aside from that rather painful issue, I'm quite enjoying the choices Ubi Montreal made with this PoP.
I also don't find Elika to be anywhere near as meaningful as the author suggests. In fact, it is the opposite for me. Her involvement becomes so rote, so typical, so ever-present, that her constant saving of the prince transcends routine and basically becomes wallpaper. There's never any suspense, any worry that she might fail to save me this time. She carries out her task as joylessly as a life-support system. For the author's criticisms of other games as being "artificial," this system beat me over the head with its artifice.
I also don't understand how the author finds the traditions of fun "that so many games cling to" to be "artificial." How is the new Prince of Persia game's approach to fun not artificial? It fills in gaps for you left and right; it removes the challenge entirely through artificial means. This might be something you find worthwhile and laudable, but it hardly makes the more challenge driven approach (something that goes hand-in-hand with the concept of a game) artificial.
SotC is a game that is far from technically difficult, and didn't suffer critically for it, because the "substance" of the game is often synonymous with the "style".
Why does Prince of Persia fall into a different category? Perhaps because it has the baggage of the previous Prince games that it is relying upon. The results may have been different (better?) if they released this as a new IP "from the dev team behind Prince of Persia."
While I at first found the Prince to be way too flat, the way they managed to eventually flesh out his character a bit more and transform it was masterfully done. I do agree with some criticism that they could have tried smoothed the dialogue sequences out a bit more (stopping the gameplay to talk to Elika was something I did constantly, which was always worth it, but would've been nice it didn't feel like it was a choice between the two sometimes). I certainly agree that Elika became the central focus of this game. Having removed much of the loneliness that the other PoP games had; in fact, some of the better sequences in Sands of Time were with Fara, and I'm glad they brought back that feeling.
As this article said, the entire buildup of dramatic tension to the end of the game felt more like a novel than the constant non-stop tension of most games. This narrative device left me saying to myself after the (first) credits rolled, "Oh no, they didn't, did they? Wow, they did!" as it slowly dawned on me how the game was truly going to end. The death of Elika was foreshadowed constantly of course, and its hard not to see coming...but then giving the player the choice at the end to save her and doom the world? It was something they could've left as a cutscene, but the fact that they gave the player a choice made it have all the more impact. This kind of narrative device is something more games should be utilizing; it's powerful and something that can only be unique to games. No book or movie can quite match the effect this has on the viewer. The PoP really nailed this game...it's too bad people are missing the point of the game.
Was it a choice? I didn't want to revive Elika (personally, I felt that if the Prince, or indeed the player, truly cared for Elika they would respect her obviously willing sacrifice and let her rest in peace) but it wasn't made clear to me if this was an option and I haven't heard tell of any alternate endings.
I think this game is allowed to divide opinion. It's a different direction with some nice ideas. I felt the dialog interactions were much more fluid and natural than a cutscene, but agree it could be even more fluid if you didn't have to stop playing to experience them. I felt Elika really was one of the best AI companions seen in a game in a long time, but agree she seemed very artificial during double jumps and rescue sequences.
This game broke a few conventions and bent a few rules, and came out with something that divides opinion. I applaud the effort, though I must say I'm not a huge fan of the game.
The On Demand Dialogue is an intriguing device, if only because it requires some effort from the player to develop the relationship between the two leads. As promising, and admittedly engaging as that can be at times, it provides nothing more than a shallow level of involvement (which jarringly punishes the Player by taking control away from them). Yes, it provides more information/exposition, but these revelations seem woefully detached from the gameplay. It would have been much more effective to integrate these character developments with the Player’s actions, where the gameplay mechanics could be used to foster a closer bond between Elika and Prince.
Elika is an integral part to the gameplay only at a superficial, cosmetic level. When she saves the Player at every misstep, her intervention makes sense within the narrative context, but in terms of actual gameplay mechanics, one feels she could just as easily be substituted with a fade-to-black. We are told, via cut scene, that her role as saviour is significant to the relationship, but it has no gameplay value. Without a true sense of peril, without the potential of her role in the relationship being altered for better or for worse, the gravity of her role is greatly reduced.
The same can be said for her involvement in combat. She is merely another move in the Player’s skill set, an ability no different than the slash of Prince’s sword. If the Player was responsible for developing a true relationship, based upon their gameplay performance, and reflected by Elika’s effectiveness, the connection could have been much more engrossing, even moving.
I think this fissure between rigid narrative elements and gameplay action is perhaps the greatest problem with the game. It’s such a divisive experience because it takes one step forward and one step back. The dev team seems to focus so much on that step forward, but I don’t think they executed the core concept very well and it undermined the game’s main ambition (and left many Players cold). I’ll see it for what it is: promising, and enjoyable, but deeply flawed in its aspirations and therefore a bit disappointing.
I enjoyed a bunch of the design choices made here, I just wish they had been made in a game with something more to say.
As for the "chats" with Elika, on two occassions when they said "press this button to learn more about the enviroment and talk with Elika" I pressed it several times and got a simple sentence with no substance, on the second occassion I did this I pressed the button 4 times and got the same simple saying all 4 times. My thought is, if I'm pushing a button 8 times and still not getting to the storylines I'm looking for I'm certainly not gonna keep wasting my time looking for all the possible conversations. Perhaps its bad luck, but its bad form on Ubisoft's part to leave a major component's pleasure up to luck. If no dialogue can be achieved after coming into a new area then that dialogue should come first.
And as for the increasing dramatization of the storyline, well I guess I can't really speak on that seeing as how I haven't played that far. But what I can say is that they can't forget to encourage me to get far enough to actually find that more interesting storyline. I have defeated the first 3 bosses (other than elika's father in the beginning) and haven't really gotten much story since the very beginning. Whats keeping me going in the game? Honestly the only thing that encourages me is "surely the game gets better than this..."
On the plus sides, because I dont' want to sound completely negative, is that I really do enjoy the art of the game, and if the story does really get better as described then I think I might enjoy it more. I also like some of the navigation when it gets more complicated, but I would feel much more drawn into the game if I felt I had to concentrate to get through an area. If I am focusing on a game and blocking everything out so that I can't succeed then I usually get more drawn into the game. I don't think this is the only method of doing it but I don't see why they couldn't of used this method as well to keep me engaged between Cutscenes.
I really liked how the level where you kill the Concubine used Elika's Prince-saving powers to reinforce the narrative.
I don't mind the game being easy, because challenge isn't my favourite kind of fun. However, I do mind that the gameplay is so simplistic and arbitrary, and I hate it that the game relies on quick time events so much. In spite of them, I had a lot of fun exploring the game world and changing it for the better.
The dialogue purpose in this game is not to enlighten the player, but to flesh out the characters. The contents of conversations between Elika and Prince are intellectually simple, which I think is good, because:
- you don't need more in this case; the dilemma the game revolves around is rather basic;
- kids will get it;
It doesn't pretend to be more than it is. None of the two main characters claim to be wise, they just have an opinion.
As an aside, I don't think this can be pulled off succesfully without decent writing and superb voice acting. I've had the luck of playing a localised version, and the voice actress who performed for Elika did an amazing job. Elika as I know her is a very likeable and convincing person, but most of all she's mature. Sadly, mature characters are very rare in computer games.
That being said, I don't understand how someone could make the decision to implement dialogue as "cutscenes on demand". It's counterproductive to the dialogue's purpose. These conversations are part of game's ambience (which is why they are so redundant and trivial - that's how ambience works, generally). They should be delivered automatically on relevant occasions, without interrupting the gameplay.
Also, the very end of game is a rape against the player. If there's an alternative ending, it's well hidden. I can see why Prince would make this particular decision, because his behaviour throughout the game leads to it, but I can just as well see why a player would disagree. Forcing the player to participate in what can be seen as atrocity is cruel, brutal, abusive, and completely unnecessary. It should have been put into a cutscene, just like it's done in so many other games. If authors really wanted to keep it inside the game, they should have provided an obvious alternative ending (which would be very simple in this case - just allow the player to leave the area instead of putting invisible barriers on all exits).
In general, I think there is some substance in this game - more than in most games, anyway - but the game's structure and style got in the way. I belong to the narrativist camp myself, but I don't like the notion of narrative as something separate from or opposed to gameplay. That notion seems to have driven development of Prince of Persia and that, I think, is its biggest setback.
I remember my hard time using tricks to get 30 or more lifes in contra, how frustrating it could be playing ninja gaiden and not being able to overcome a damn plataform in fase 6.2 (i think) and beat it, or jumping the ridiculous gap near the end of ninja turtles. And I also remember the enormous rejoice of defeating the games. It´s not that a game has to be easy to be , but pop can be from rewarding begin to end.
It´s a diferent approach from the standarts of games, a concept of bringing foward the experience, its flow. In fact, the landscape, the cartoonish style, the vibrant (water)colours are so gorgeous to look that cutting its flow with difficult, deaths, loding times, would detract you from the experience.
One of the more pleasurable (does that word exists) games I had the chance to play.
Furthermore I think that optional dialogs with additional informations are a good choice, so that player who just wants to play doesn't get harassed by (optional) story elements.
One thing I actually don't understand is why Ubisoft didn't add an additional difficulty setting for those who need the "sense of peril", as Mr. Dotto has stated.
Technically a relative simple method to integrate would be like giving those 7 or more types of obstacles a difficulty addend and adding them up. If the sum is greater than the difficulty value, than the next horizontal platform will become a check point. Another thing would be to give the horizontal platforms a specific addend, but that would be more work.
I also think, that Ubisoft has failed to add replay values by adding modes like speed-runs (the light seeds scream for that option and it would use the existing ressources) or 2-3 acrobatic trick style "arenas" with score (of course that would be more work than speed runs).
But generally I have a positive opinion about the game and the design decisions made here. In my opinion the only major design "faults" were the "ring outs" in some of the boss fights (in some not possible). It was irritating and not a climax to the obstacles before the fight, if you throw out a boss with the first combo. It would be better if the ring out possibility was dependant on the boss energy (For example faster X smashing needed).
> Amen Mr Cross. Playing Prince of Persia was like reading a poem from Keats.
That did it for me a while back. I had been bearing with the game going along waiting for something to
happen; but after that line hit the nail right on the head I paid a visit to the Add/Remove Programs section.
You know it's not Prince of Persia when something called "Le souffle d'Ormaz" doesn't even bother to give
you the illusion that it's super-breathing ability that's allowing you to climb otherwise insane parts.
I mean, the 'wall' moves past while all you need to do is avoid obstacles?? Even Outrun on my 8088 back
in the day could do better.
> Thus, story, narrative and plotting are deemed to be "style," while difficulty, method of control, and
> complexity of gameplay and interface are deemed to be "substance."
In my opinion, Substance is a superset of style. Lots of supposedly breathtaking landscape doesn't
give 'style' points in my book. Story?? Our friend loses his donkey in a _desert_ sandstorm and falls and
falls and falls and stumbles upon this fantasy land where you always seem to still be miles above the
ground. [I got tired of waiting to get down to earth, literally.]
And he meets Elika, who from there on is just going to be an extension of him, responding to every
keystroke in the same way he does; making many a useless jump without so much as a single
remark. Of course, she's essential to the gameplay; never mind the fact that having the guy only
face 1 opponent at a time is meant to make that easier to implement. In previous games combat served
the purpose of collecting Sands; here, it serves none (so far as I had played).
> "Substance," Meet Elika
In the "story" that is supposed to be so impressive, sad to say, the developers never showed us any of
what Elika talks about, for us to start caring. In the first PoP:SoT seeing Farah and her servants being
enslaved was an image that worked a 1000 times better than eavesdropping on these rigid two ever
could. There's a long stretch in PoP:SoT where Prince is separated from Farah and is supposed to meet
her back at the Baths. Their interaction up to then had actually managed to make me feel that as the
Prince I'd be missing her at this point and couldn't wait to be back with her again. That's when I knew
that I had a good story going on and was plenty immersed into the game.
Substance.. the guy is able to move faster when blocking??!! has me wishing he could run a bit faster..
Ok.. that's enough of writing for a guy who uninstalled the thing because 'Keats' turned him off.