Platform games: arguably the most innocent genre in all of video gaming. Running and jumping through various worlds, either two or three dimensional; playing as a range of different characters like Mario, Donkey Kong, Rayman, Sackboy or many others; hopping from platform to platform in hopes of reaching the end of the stage.
It’s exhilarating. The character you control is more athletic and mobile than you’ll ever be, and most of the stages you run through couldn’t exist in real life. The running and jumping is great fun, until you time a jump wrong and fall into a bottomless pit. It’s a wonder that this genre has lasted more than 30 years as other genres become more dominant when it comes to finding an audience. But because of those pits that cause automatic deaths, platform games are still one of the most difficult genres today.
Dying bothers me more in platform games than in any other genre. As a shooter, if I die, I restart at a checkpoint not far from where I died, and I now know to avoid death again by taking a different route. If I lose in a fighting game, there’s always Round 2 to try again. If I lose again, it’s probably because I suck.
Deaths are the most frustrating in a platform games because when you die, you start either at the very beginning of the level or at the stage’s one checkpoint, depending on the game. The thought of having to start that kind of level over is depressing. All it takes is one mistake to fall, and I have to start over again. When I get too frustrated, I just turn off the game and end up reading a book.
In any capacity, dying in a video game is not a big deal. Yet, I’ve developed a legitimate fear of dying in platform games. Instead of running through the stages as the developers intended, I hesitate like none other. As platform games become more advanced and the stages become more dynamic, keeping me on my toes, certain games have stopped giving me that option to hesitate.
Games like Rayman Origins and Donkey Kong Country Returns have pushed me to do things I didn’t even know I could do in a game. By having the platforms I stand on for safety hazardous, I’ve made sounds I didn’t even know could come from a human in certain parts of the game. Just when I thought I was safe, I have to jump to the next platform.
Don’t stop moving is my take away from all this. In real life, I’ll have a story due the next day, and I’m still waiting to hear back from an important source. I keep pressing them. A cute girl might be eyeing me in bar and could easily move onto the next person. You have that short amount of time to make an impression, make a movie. When you hear about a job opening that appeals to everyone on The Crow’s Nest, apply and say nothing of it.
I’ll ask myself, where did I learn to think that way? Then I’ll say, thank you video games.
Matt Thomas is a senior majoring mass communications and entertainment critic. He can be reached at matthew17@mail.usf.edu or on Twitter @MttThms.
