Nobody really likes being sick. If you throw up, something has gone very badly wrong. You're ill, physically or mentally, or you've had too much to drink.
The most I ever threw up in one sitting - more a hunching - was when I was 18. I'd been to the pub with a friend, and gotten a little carried away. When I returned home, I ate a 12 pack of Walkers crisps, and almost immediately upon swallowing the final crisp, I regurgitated the entire lot onto my bedroom floor.
Small mercies; my room was in the process of being redecorated. I was sleeping on a mattress, on a bare hardwood floor. This meant that there wasn't a great deal of height to my hurl - so no real splatter pattern - and no carpet to absorb any of the vom. Instead, it lay there on the floor, a beige cone of pulped Walkers, in roughly the circumference of a 12-inch single. I remember it came to a pleasing point, like a pinched turd.
In my profoundly addled state, I went and got a towel from the bathroom, in a hamfisted attempt to dry-mop the mess. I succeeded only in smearing it around the hardwood. Further towels - every towel in the bathroom, in fact - were required to remove the last of the spew, but this resulted in the unpleasant realisation that I now had half a dozen towels full of potato crisp-ruminate.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to use the washing machine - doing so would've only raised suspicion in any event - so I hit upon a slick plan to hide the evidence of my drinking. Stark naked, I walked downstairs, straight past my father - who was busy watching TV, oblivious to his drunk, nude spawn - half a dozen heavy puke-towels in my arms. I strode confidently into the garden, and threw the lot over the fence into next door.
Not an easy task; the waist-high fence had recently been replaced with a six foot-high one, after Mr Benson had accused my sister of setting fire to his garden.
Head throbbing, I was woken early the next morning by my irate mother, wanting to know why all of our towels were hanging, encrusted in barf, from Mr Benson's apple tree. I was then forced to endure the further indignity of retrieving the towels with a broom, while standing on a chair.
Stick with me. This is all relevant.
The most I ever threw up in one sitting - more a hunching - was when I was 18. I'd been to the pub with a friend, and gotten a little carried away. When I returned home, I ate a 12 pack of Walkers crisps, and almost immediately upon swallowing the final crisp, I regurgitated the entire lot onto my bedroom floor.
Small mercies; my room was in the process of being redecorated. I was sleeping on a mattress, on a bare hardwood floor. This meant that there wasn't a great deal of height to my hurl - so no real splatter pattern - and no carpet to absorb any of the vom. Instead, it lay there on the floor, a beige cone of pulped Walkers, in roughly the circumference of a 12-inch single. I remember it came to a pleasing point, like a pinched turd.
In my profoundly addled state, I went and got a towel from the bathroom, in a hamfisted attempt to dry-mop the mess. I succeeded only in smearing it around the hardwood. Further towels - every towel in the bathroom, in fact - were required to remove the last of the spew, but this resulted in the unpleasant realisation that I now had half a dozen towels full of potato crisp-ruminate.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to use the washing machine - doing so would've only raised suspicion in any event - so I hit upon a slick plan to hide the evidence of my drinking. Stark naked, I walked downstairs, straight past my father - who was busy watching TV, oblivious to his drunk, nude spawn - half a dozen heavy puke-towels in my arms. I strode confidently into the garden, and threw the lot over the fence into next door.
Not an easy task; the waist-high fence had recently been replaced with a six foot-high one, after Mr Benson had accused my sister of setting fire to his garden.
Head throbbing, I was woken early the next morning by my irate mother, wanting to know why all of our towels were hanging, encrusted in barf, from Mr Benson's apple tree. I was then forced to endure the further indignity of retrieving the towels with a broom, while standing on a chair.
Stick with me. This is all relevant.
NOT PLAYED
I've not played on my PlayStation VR since, I dunno... last year some time.
In fact, there are many games I own for it which I've not even touched; Arkham VR, Robinson The Journey... I've not even played the Star Wars Battlefront VR Mission.
Reason? Well... I'd disconnected the VR headset. All those wires... all that plugging bits in... it was just enough of a faff that I couldn't be bothered setting it up... and then putting everything away again (well, dumping it in a pile next to the TV) to play non-VR stuff.
It was exactly what I predicted would happen all those months ago; as cool as virtual reality is, there's a barrier of faffing between it and the player which risks your VR headset gathering dust. And when I say "your" I mean "my". But probably yours as well. It's universal, guy!
Heck, even after having loved the Resident Evil Kitchen demo... I still couldn't be bothered with plugging it all in to play Resident Evil VII when it arrived yesterday.
But... I played the first minute of Resi VII on the TV... and changed my mind. I thought I should make the sacrifice for you, my sweet ones.
With a big sigh - which my other half likened to the noise I make when DIY needs doing - I performed the VR Faff-Dance. I untangled wires. Plugged it in. Tried to work out why the camera wasn't working. Got the camera working. Then had a stressful 15 minutes of adjusting the helmet for the optimum position, and trying to stop the lenses misting up.
And then I was into the game. An hour later I regretted it.
I've not played on my PlayStation VR since, I dunno... last year some time.
In fact, there are many games I own for it which I've not even touched; Arkham VR, Robinson The Journey... I've not even played the Star Wars Battlefront VR Mission.
Reason? Well... I'd disconnected the VR headset. All those wires... all that plugging bits in... it was just enough of a faff that I couldn't be bothered setting it up... and then putting everything away again (well, dumping it in a pile next to the TV) to play non-VR stuff.
It was exactly what I predicted would happen all those months ago; as cool as virtual reality is, there's a barrier of faffing between it and the player which risks your VR headset gathering dust. And when I say "your" I mean "my". But probably yours as well. It's universal, guy!
Heck, even after having loved the Resident Evil Kitchen demo... I still couldn't be bothered with plugging it all in to play Resident Evil VII when it arrived yesterday.
But... I played the first minute of Resi VII on the TV... and changed my mind. I thought I should make the sacrifice for you, my sweet ones.
With a big sigh - which my other half likened to the noise I make when DIY needs doing - I performed the VR Faff-Dance. I untangled wires. Plugged it in. Tried to work out why the camera wasn't working. Got the camera working. Then had a stressful 15 minutes of adjusting the helmet for the optimum position, and trying to stop the lenses misting up.
And then I was into the game. An hour later I regretted it.
IN THE DARK
So... everything I've seen of Resident Evil VII thus far has been in VR. I've only played an hour or so - the reasons will soon become clear - but it's impressive.
Admittedly, the resolution is dreadful - particularly during the opening few minutes, where you're outside in broad daylight, wandering through a swamp.
Matters improve somewhat once you're alone in the dark, so to speak. Like the original RE, most of the game appears to be set in one ill-lit location (albeit one that, even at this early stage, appears to be fairly sprawling) - illuminating your path with a little torch.
The resolution kind of doesn't matter, really, as the graphics - and the way they're deployed - are decent and evocative enough in their own right. In the same way we could at one time see beyond low-res polygons, we can - whatever frame-rate and 4K graphics tarts tell you - forget about the low resolution.
Many of the unintentional hallmarks of the series are here; the acting is melodramatic, the characters don't speak like real people... The story, such as it is thus far, has you in the role of protective feller off in search of his girlfriend, who went missing three years ago. Down with the patriarchy!
Yes, yes - it's one of those stories. Alas, despite thinking she's been dead all this time, his reaction to receiving a mysterious email telling him that she's still alive on a farm in Louisiana, has about as much drama and gravitas as if he'd been called by his daughter's school, and informed that she's left her PE kit at home.
For all that, when it isn't being weird, Resi 7 feels new and classic at the same time. Switching the traditional third-person Resi gameplay to first-person makes complete sense.
Many of the hallmarks of the series have been stripped back to basics - at least, in the first hour. It's essentially an extended exercise in tension, with a few - somewhat predictable - jump scares thrown in. Interaction with the world has been kept to a minimum (supposedly there's combat later on - but I've yet to encounter any). Mostly you move, and pick things up.
One thing I don't like is how there's also a slightly annoying fade to black before scripted movements - such as climbing onto a ladder, or squeezing through a gap. Given the immersion that's otherwise in effect, it's a shame that this pulled me out of it.
I was also disappointed that there's no option to use the motion controllers - which would've made me feel like less of a passenger - but the Dualshock works fine, and probably helps keep nausea at bay.
Well, to a point...
So... everything I've seen of Resident Evil VII thus far has been in VR. I've only played an hour or so - the reasons will soon become clear - but it's impressive.
Admittedly, the resolution is dreadful - particularly during the opening few minutes, where you're outside in broad daylight, wandering through a swamp.
Matters improve somewhat once you're alone in the dark, so to speak. Like the original RE, most of the game appears to be set in one ill-lit location (albeit one that, even at this early stage, appears to be fairly sprawling) - illuminating your path with a little torch.
The resolution kind of doesn't matter, really, as the graphics - and the way they're deployed - are decent and evocative enough in their own right. In the same way we could at one time see beyond low-res polygons, we can - whatever frame-rate and 4K graphics tarts tell you - forget about the low resolution.
Many of the unintentional hallmarks of the series are here; the acting is melodramatic, the characters don't speak like real people... The story, such as it is thus far, has you in the role of protective feller off in search of his girlfriend, who went missing three years ago. Down with the patriarchy!
Yes, yes - it's one of those stories. Alas, despite thinking she's been dead all this time, his reaction to receiving a mysterious email telling him that she's still alive on a farm in Louisiana, has about as much drama and gravitas as if he'd been called by his daughter's school, and informed that she's left her PE kit at home.
For all that, when it isn't being weird, Resi 7 feels new and classic at the same time. Switching the traditional third-person Resi gameplay to first-person makes complete sense.
Many of the hallmarks of the series have been stripped back to basics - at least, in the first hour. It's essentially an extended exercise in tension, with a few - somewhat predictable - jump scares thrown in. Interaction with the world has been kept to a minimum (supposedly there's combat later on - but I've yet to encounter any). Mostly you move, and pick things up.
One thing I don't like is how there's also a slightly annoying fade to black before scripted movements - such as climbing onto a ladder, or squeezing through a gap. Given the immersion that's otherwise in effect, it's a shame that this pulled me out of it.
I was also disappointed that there's no option to use the motion controllers - which would've made me feel like less of a passenger - but the Dualshock works fine, and probably helps keep nausea at bay.
Well, to a point...
TWEAK AT THE KNEES
So. That there VR mode then.
There are a number of ways to tweak the controls for optimum comfort. Early on I ditched the default movement option - your lateral movement coming in sharp jumps - in favour of the more natural "smooth" movement. Within a couple of minutes I felt sick and turned the jerky movement option back on. This was fine for the next half an hour or so... and then the nausea returned. Bigly.
Frustratingly, I'd found one save point, but wasn't sure whether there were autosaves - the memory of the distant save points in past Resident Evil games still haunts me - so I pushed on, every well of light promising a save point which never came.
45 minutes in and I was sweating heavily, fighting a losing battle against throwing up. An hour in, and still no save point (I've since learned that there are autosaves), and I had to take the headset off.
Another 30 seconds and I'd have hurled.
The feeling eased after approximately 14 minutes, but the rest of the evening was spent with a sort of low-lying queasiness.
So. That there VR mode then.
There are a number of ways to tweak the controls for optimum comfort. Early on I ditched the default movement option - your lateral movement coming in sharp jumps - in favour of the more natural "smooth" movement. Within a couple of minutes I felt sick and turned the jerky movement option back on. This was fine for the next half an hour or so... and then the nausea returned. Bigly.
Frustratingly, I'd found one save point, but wasn't sure whether there were autosaves - the memory of the distant save points in past Resident Evil games still haunts me - so I pushed on, every well of light promising a save point which never came.
45 minutes in and I was sweating heavily, fighting a losing battle against throwing up. An hour in, and still no save point (I've since learned that there are autosaves), and I had to take the headset off.
Another 30 seconds and I'd have hurled.
The feeling eased after approximately 14 minutes, but the rest of the evening was spent with a sort of low-lying queasiness.
GO BAAAAAAACK!
When I go back to Resident Evil VII to finish reviewing it, I'll be playing it on the TV.
Everything so far suggests it's a great experience - and the way it works in VR is fantastic, providing you don't feel sick. It's not the game which is a let down, but the technology.
Or maybe it is the game mixed with the technology; perhaps we need VR games which work best in shorter bursts. I dunno.
That said, clearly, it has been a while since I've played in VR - I'm pretty sure I'd built up some resistance to it last year - and not every game has made me feel this way.
Plus, some people don't have the sensitivity to VR which I seem to. It's weird to me, because I'm fine with rollercoasters and motion simulators. As I've previously said, I love the VR experience. It's a theme park in your home, and I feel like I'm missing out. It's like not being able to get to the end of Disneyland's Main Street USA without vomiting into a bin.
And that's bad news for VR. Part of why I barely drink alcohol anymore is because I don't like the feeling. I don't like feeling wobbly and light-headed, and I don't like the hangovers, and I don't like feeling sick. At this stage, following my experience last night, I'm rather flaccid at the thought of playing anything in VR ever again.
Full review to follow!
When I go back to Resident Evil VII to finish reviewing it, I'll be playing it on the TV.
Everything so far suggests it's a great experience - and the way it works in VR is fantastic, providing you don't feel sick. It's not the game which is a let down, but the technology.
Or maybe it is the game mixed with the technology; perhaps we need VR games which work best in shorter bursts. I dunno.
That said, clearly, it has been a while since I've played in VR - I'm pretty sure I'd built up some resistance to it last year - and not every game has made me feel this way.
Plus, some people don't have the sensitivity to VR which I seem to. It's weird to me, because I'm fine with rollercoasters and motion simulators. As I've previously said, I love the VR experience. It's a theme park in your home, and I feel like I'm missing out. It's like not being able to get to the end of Disneyland's Main Street USA without vomiting into a bin.
And that's bad news for VR. Part of why I barely drink alcohol anymore is because I don't like the feeling. I don't like feeling wobbly and light-headed, and I don't like the hangovers, and I don't like feeling sick. At this stage, following my experience last night, I'm rather flaccid at the thought of playing anything in VR ever again.
Full review to follow!
RSS Feed
