A new generation had arrived.
The future was here.
And the future was Crysis.
Crytek were already known for pushing boundaries with their previous title, Far Cry.
Its lush tropical setting and open-ended gameplay provided leverage for the impressive tech
to shine: huge draw distances, detailed foliage, and expansive levels.
Ubisoft retained ownership of the Far Cry franchise, and so Crytek set out to push technical
limits further with a new IP.
Crysis mirrors Far Cry with its island setting and open-ended gameplay, but this time came
with the addition of weapon customisation, a nanosuit, and its predator-like ability
to cloak.
The game was also ridiculously good looking.
It asserted the PC's graphical dominance once more and embarrassed the newly-hatched Gen-7
consoles - and yet few would follow in imitation.
Its need for a particularly powerful machine led to the game becoming a standard punchline
for hardware requirements: news of a new supercomputer is all very well and good:
But can it run Crysis?
Perhaps this was a limiting factor in the game's success: why risk the investment, when
there are doubts as to how well it might run?
The market gets narrower as you get closer to the bleeding edge, and pushing forward
graphical technology won't always pay dividends.
Instead, it was the gimmicks of casual gaming that led the charts during this era: the Wii
wasn't impressive from a graphical perspective - but everyone wanted one anyway.
Even amidst the core gamer market, franchises like Guitar Hero and Rock Band would prove
to be particularly lucrative.
A seed of doubt.
Perhaps graphics aren't that important after all.
The rise of indie games in recent years is further evidence: their lower budgets mean
a greater ability to deviate from AAA norms.
Some games purposefully evoke a bygone era: drawing from a rich history of graphics - a
palette of styles steeped in nostalgia.
VVVVVV's visuals are heavily influenced by the Commodore 64, for instance - sticking
to the same sprite size and palette limitations of the classic hardware, despite the abilities
of contemporary machines.
For all the milestones passed, indie games are not afraid to regress: with some games
even eschewing basic convenience, such as colour.
The completely desaturated Limbo does help craft the game's gloomy tone - dark silhouettes
reminiscent of shadow theatre: an uneasy audience witness to grisly death.
On the brighter side, the cartoon heroes of yesteryear hold a very dear place in many
hearts: and it's easy to see the influence of classic platformers in games like Super
Meat Boy.
Titles like this are not simple retro remakes, however - they bring with them a more modern
sense of game design, and sometimes a twist of modern mechanics - the time-warping effects
in Braid, for instance - or the dimensional geometry-bending seen in Fez.
There are plenty of indie games with realistic graphics - but a freer licence to explore
aesthetic without expectation has seen some games forge a unique identity through their
appearance.
The blocky terrain and low resolution textures of Minecraft are one of the game's most distinctive
features.
The simple style plays into a retro cool, but the expansive worlds, social multiplayer
and limitless potential for creativity are very much based on modern innovations.
It's the perfect junction between old and new - and as a result with impressively broad
appeal.
When you consider its success, Minecraft serves as very strong support for the argument that
graphics don't matter.
However - those enamoured with photorealism, fret not: despite all this indie nonsense
we have made some progress in the seven years since Crysis.
If there's one thing the fixed hardware of consoles is good for, it's optimisation: the
Xbox 360 and PS3 have had every drop of potential squeezed out of them over their lifespan.
The culmination of a generation led to games like the Last of Us for the PS3: with graphics
far beyond anything from the first half of the system's existence.
Similarly, the open world of Grand Theft Auto V is hugely impressive in scope considering
the limited resources available.
Titles like these stretch the modest abilities of eight-year-old hardware to its limit - but
on the other hand, PCs boast unrestrained power: and such potential shines in games
designed to take advantage of top-tier hardware.
After all, why bother having a gaming PC if all you're going to play are console ports?
Purebred PC games like ARMA can indulge in detailed graphics and expansive open worlds
- safe in the knowledge that the game won't have to endure any compromise.
The later Crysis sequels did make their way onto the consoles, but the game remains at
home on the hardware that best does it justice.
The power of the PC is a much touted thing - and while the average spec is more modest
than some might admit, for the enthusiast's tier a world of blistering graphics awaits.
And if the base standard of commercial offerings fails to impress, then there's always the
option of mods.
With the recent arrival of a new console generation, there has been a long-needed jump in the visual
standard of mainstream games.
Most of these early-gen titles are nothing more than cross-gen ports, but there are some
unifying trends emerging in those that embrace raised performance caps.
Like brown and bloom before, game developer's love for cinematic effects knows no bounds
- and so we're enduring a fashion for some new showy effects.
Most seem intent to replicate the flaws inherent in lenses and cameras, and to disguise the
otherwise clean digital nature of computer graphics.
Cinematic realism is alive and well.
Chromatic aberration is a recent addition to some games: simulating the divergence of
different light wavelengths towards the perimeter of the screen.
It's entirely deliberate.
And entirely artificial.
Simulating depth of field is another effect lifted straight from photography: selectively
blurring a scene based on focal distance, casting a sharp plane in a sea of soft blur.
This is normally reserved for cutscenes, or in select cases such as aiming down a weapon's
sight: it's difficult to implement convincingly without tracking the player's eyes precisely.
Motion blur is an artefact of continuous movement captured in discrete frames: a simulation
of exposure time, with blurred streaks left in the wake of rapid movement.
It is no substitute for a higher framerate, but it can help smooth the appearance of motion:
no matter the refresh rate, it will provide some interstitial information and otherwise
enhance the sensation of speed.
If you thought bloom was bad, then you won't care much for the next-gen equivalent: improbably
massive light flares, and the illumination of dust and grease on a filter plane.
Like a layer of filth that no cleaning can shift, throwing stuff at the screen is a popular
way to convey a sense of a scene's environment.
All of these effects are designed to sell the illusion of reality - and while the human
eye isn't a camera, these imperfections can add a sheen of authenticity.
Such techniques are relatively new and will go overused as a result - but with time, they
should become subtler and join an ever-increasing palette of visual tricks.
Graphics are absolutely important.
They are an essential part of video games, a window into another world and a prime indicator
of the technology that powers it.
However, the true value of visuals is not in their realism: a game's aesthetic does
far more to establish its character than its polygon count.
A cohesive style is all you need - and it's often better to stick to proven technique
than it is to attempt something cutting-edge.
We still need pioneers to light the way, but for most there's no harm in sticking to safer
waters - a development span of half a century means that graphics can lean on an ever-richer
heritage.
We have come a long way.
So, what does the future of graphics hold?
Perhaps one day, video games will transcend our perception of reality - exceeding the
natural acuity of the eye to make an utterly convincing scene.
Technology inches ever further, frustratingly slow for the impatient today - but nonetheless
with an irresistible inertia.
Thank you very much for watching: and until next time, farewell.