Monster Hunter needs a full-scale rebirth, but its contradictions are fascinating

Monster Hunter Wilds is Capcom’s best-selling game ever, consistently dominating the Steam rankings. Even the mighty Counter-Strike 2 occasionally looks away from its throne of user-generated hats to see this new contender. Despite some players voicing concerns about the PC version’s performance, overall reviews for the game are very positive, praising the monster-slaying experience.

In simpler terms, it seems that Wilds, according to the review by Brendy, represents a point where the Monster Hunter series appears to be struggling with its own identity. This struggle is evident across various aspects of the game, such as combat mechanics, user interface, world design, and story themes. It’s not that I’m suggesting this is a new development, but it seems particularly noticeable in Wilds.

In simpler terms, the main conflict in Monster Hunter games is that it struggles to present monsters as both targets for hunting and objects of affection. The game portrays hunting as managing a wildlife reserve, where hunter guilds step in to control harmful predators. However, this ‘caretaker’ mentality conflicts with the core loop of continuously gathering monster parts for weapon crafting. I propose that Capcom could draw more inspiration from ancient hunting cultures, emphasizing monsters as sacred creatures, both revered and consumed, but I’m unsure if that would align with the game’s modern mechanics that involve excessive exploitation through repetitive quests, bureaucratic procedures, and casual labor under a supervisor.

The fundamental contradiction in Monster Hunter games is its struggle to depict monsters as both prey for hunting and objects of adoration. The game portrays hunting as managing a wildlife preserve, with hunter guilds stepping in to control harmful predators. This ‘caretaker’ approach conflicts with the game’s main mechanic of continuously collecting monster parts for weapon crafting. I suggest Capcom could draw inspiration from ancient hunting cultures, emphasizing monsters as both revered and consumed, but I’m not sure if that would suit the modern mechanics of the game, which include overexploitation through repetitive quests, bureaucratic procedures, and casual labor under a supervisor.

In my opinion, today’s Monster Hunter most closely resembles something sacred through its depiction of a “realistic ecology,” featuring carnivores, herbivores, and various native species coexisting and interacting. Whether this ecosystem truly embodies the term or not, focusing on its vibrancy actually makes slaying monsters feel more like murder. The game’s ongoing pursuit of higher fidelity and realism across versions paradoxically undermines it, as the more authentic the creatures seem, the less inclined I am to destroy them.

The new Wounds system in Wilds effectively conveys the challenges you face – unlike in the PS2 era where Capcom might have shown glowing weak points, Monster Hunter’s advanced technology now makes it seem like you’re actually slicing into wounded flesh. Stabbing a Greatsword into an open wound feels brutal, but the damage numbers that pop up serve as a reminder that it’s all for show.

In contemporary Monster Hunter games, I’ve noticed a recurring inconsistency: the game struggles to decide whether it wants you to explore the world or interact with the interface. The two elements are so intertwined that they sometimes complement each other beautifully, while at other times it seems like two territorial wyverns locked in a fierce dispute, forcing you to fiddle with customization options to resolve their conflicts. In many ways, the interface has taken control, especially since it now permeates what was once considered raw geography, eliminating any need for navigation.

The tension in Monster Hunter games today lies in whether they want players to focus on the world or the controls. This duality can feel harmonious at times, but it’s also like watching two powerful creatures fighting over territory, making you constantly adjust settings to keep them from clashing. In recent versions, the interface dominates the experience, as it has even invaded what was once pure exploration, rendering navigation unnecessary.

The main annoyances are those pesky Scoutflies from Monster Hunter: World, that swarm around any interactive object and guide you directly to your destination. I really dislike the Scoutflies. To my surprise, there’s yet no option to completely disable them without using mods, which transforms rich and intriguing landscapes into a mix of Matrix-like code and game prompts. The Scoutflies are further aggravated by your wrist grapple, which lets you pick up objects without even needing to approach the item beneath the prompt, and by the Seikret mount, which automatically follows the trail of Scoutflies to your destination. Unfortunately, this ruins the “hunting” experience.

In the game Wilds, there’s an attempt to address a persistent issue it shares with older Monster Hunting games – the somewhat cumbersome experience often referred to as “game feel”. This ‘clunkiness’, as it predates the term, has been a point of contention for players. However, the developers are hesitant to significantly alter this aspect due to fear of upsetting fans. One example is the process of sharpening weapons. In earlier Monster Hunter games like Freedom on PSP, taking a moment amidst the monster’s movements to hone your blade was a challenging yet exhilarating task, requiring precision in timing. In Wilds, you can sharpen while galloping around on your Seikret, thanks to an automated item wheel. This simplicity makes sharpening almost effortless, which, ironically, undermines the very purpose of sharpening weapons. My suggestion is for Capcom to either eliminate whetstones completely or fully commit to them, instead of introducing half-measures in their innovations.

In my opinion, the indecisiveness in Wilds’ design stems from its struggle to find a balance between manual camera control and lock-on features. Previous Monster Hunters required players to fight without lock-ons, using a manual camera system that was quite frustrating on the PSP due to its sensitivity. This awkwardness acted as a hindrance for wider acceptance, but it seemed fitting given the comical spectacle of a human armed with implausible dragon-slaying equipment.
More recent Monster Hunters appear to be trying to discard this clunkiness altogether, yet they remain indecisive about how to do so. In Wilds, there is a lock-on feature, but it’s not as smooth as other action games, causing the view to swing erratically like a shopping cart. Consequently, the gameplay experience is neither as slow-paced nor graceful as it could be.

In many respects, managing items during combat can be likened to searching frantically for a specific item in a disorganized purse, just as Brendy so eloquently described in his Monster Hunter Wilds review. This analogy holds more weight for the earlier versions of Monster Hunter games, but subsequent releases have introduced automation to smooth out some of these challenges. For instance, Wilds automatically brews potions when the necessary ingredients are collected, making them readily available on the ability wheel. However, I ponder whether stripping away potions altogether might be a more effective solution. This is because the game still retains numerous features that seem like half-hearted evolutions of mechanics from the PS2 era.

I sometimes question whether I’m being obstinate or merely uninformed about Monster Hunter. Despite playing numerous titles such as Freedom, Monster Hunter 4, and World, I can’t claim to be an expert on every monster in the series. It’s likely that for many players, including those who have bought millions of copies based on sales figures, the control and interface issues may not seem like signs of conflicting design philosophies. Instead, the Wilds might simply appear as a challenging action game with a lot of real-time item management during battles to newcomers in the series.

In another perspective, I find it intriguing that Monster Hunter seems to embrace contradictions. This ties back to my initial observation about the seemingly unrealistic “caretaker” narrative in the game, and being a vegan myself, I see Monster Hunter as an illustration of conflicting views towards non-human animals. The game’s portrayal of hunting monsters as both profitable and protective echoes the deceptive nature of societies where conservation and exploitation often intertwine. These are the same societies that show affection for certain animals while, behind closed doors, they inhumanely process billions of other animals for consumption. In this regard, I believe Monster Hunter should continue to embody its internal conflict, serving as a platform to examine our own hypocrisy. However, I could certainly live without the Scoutflies.

2025-03-06 17:05

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