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Some of the more cynical among you will be concerned about conflicts of interest. What if GameCynic is working on a competitive title? Wouldn't he trash the competition to gain a few more SKUs sold? Well, no. Remarkably, most developers I know don't think that way. (Our publishers might.) But in case my word isn't bond, rest assured that our editor will be informed about what I'm working on and whether to post any sort of disclaimer.

As for the pseudonym: Well, judge me by my words, not my name or the list of games on which I have or haven't worked.

There's a running joke that game developers are professional haters -- we hate everything, including our own games. That's certainly not universally true, but we do tend to be a cynical bunch. I thought it'd be a good way to start 2008 with two games that I actually liked: Call of Duty 4 and Silent Hill: Origins.

I've always enjoyed ambitious, combinatorially complex emergent behavior games, but I have a fondness for narrative and story. I've always hated games on rails; at least leave me the illusion that I'm making meaningful choices! But when you add the sleight-of-hand tension gimmicks of survival horror games, transparent, lead-me-by-the-nose linear plots become less obvious. You know what I'm talking about -- the fixed camera angle deliberately creating impossible tactical situations to prime you for a good scare. The original Resident Evil utilized this to great effect, and Silent Hill's flashlight/fog trademark allowed the designers to keep the players lost in a sea of imperfect information while giving them more control.

SH:O is a good old-fashioned survival horror game, but it also has the staple of bad old-fashioned games of the genre: hallways of locked doors. Not the temporarily locked ones mind you, the permanently locked ones.

The player roams around the hospital. It's early in the game, so the hallways aren't teeming with nurses and straitjackets, yet. Try the door -- locked. Next one -- same. The map indicates that these doors will never be opened. So how did the developers make me feel? Stupid and ineffectual. Rule number one of game development (and, perhaps, any commercial business): Never make your customer feel stupid.

I can imagine a situation where the designers would want the player to be chased by some incredibly dangerous monster, run down the hall trying all the doors in vain to look for a place to hide, rewarding the player with good visual memory who remembers exactly where the open door was -- except that this moment never takes place in Silent Hill. You have weapons and save points, so your job is not to run from the monsters -- it's fight or slip by them. Psychologically, that's different than running -- you're either combat-optimizing or ammunition-hoarding. Get tired of running? Drink some energy liquid, or turn around and fight. You're just pretending to be prey, because there are bigger fish to fry. Move, action button, move; Repeat until a door opens.

The rest of the game's a pixel hunt, too. Maybe my eyes aren't 24 years old, or maybe they're blurry from too much crunch-period death marching, but despite the lovely PSP screen, that wooden-handled hammer just doesn't pop from the rusty grey/tan medical cart. Yeah, the hero turns his head to look at objects of interest, but doors are also objects of interest -- as are monsters -- and if you're running right into an object, the head doesn't turn.