Old Habits...
Over the course of my life as a Metal Gear fan, I've accepted that new installments in the series come with certain traditions. One of these traditions involves sequestering myself in the isolated, carefully arranged entertainment area, turning up the volume on the TV, and completely losing track of time as I delve into the "experience" that awaits me. So it wasn't until I found myself crawling out of the dim, chilled confines of my basement and into the blazing brightness of the ground floor with Peace Walker and PSP in hand that I began to truly consider the weight of my actions. Was I really going to play the newest, full-sized Metal Gear game... away from a TV?
It didn't feel right. Naturally I wanted to play the game the way "it was meant to be played", but I found it hard to believe that it really supposed to be played on the go, or just anywhere. Metal Gear games are supposed to be movie-like experiences, which is why they always push the boundaries of hardware and software, and include so many cutscenes. Sitting next to the patio door on a sunny June afternoon with the sound of lawnmowers and traffic in the background — with a small display screen that moves whenever my hands happen to — felt altogether underwhelming. Even if you don't have a magnificent home theatre (I don't) there's still something special about planting yourself in front of the screen and becoming submerged in the experience.
In fact, I decided to test this theory, and bought that special video hookup so I could play my PSP on the big screen. I wanted to know if it would boost the enjoyment, or whether it would at least recreate the "feeling" of an epic Metal Gear game. This was supposed to be 'Metal Gear Solid 5', after all.
The result was impressive. The audio especially was hugely improved with even the regular TV speakers; it didn't sound tinny or hollow anymore, and had that full range of bass and middle ranges to give the sounds "life". The image itself didn't suffer by being stretched out (the eye adjusts to these things quickly) but the real improvement was being able to have my head looking forward, not down at my lap or chest. Playing the PSP for a long time can become a pain in the neck literally, but not if you're looking up at a TV. One thing that about the game which became more prominent was how much artificial shaking is caused by the in-game camera; but this wasn't a problem, just a quirk that my eyes adjusted to. No motion sickness or sense of disorientation.
With my ideal audio-video arrangement in place, I finally was ready to get into the game.
Getting Into It
And so I played through, most of the time with one of my brothers as my Co-Op partner, pushing through the story and extra missions alike as efficiently as possible. Peace Walker was obviously designed to be played Co-Op with a friend, and thanks to the fact that we were sitting in the same room, it was easy to do. In previous articles I said that level design would probably suffer as a result of needing to accomodate both single- and multi-player users, but while this is true to some extent, all it really did was raise a different question in my mind: is the formula for Metal Gear level design really so simple? Slowly patrolling guards positioned at various heights, with nooks and corridors spread liberally throughout the map, and an occassional secret in a dead end — maybe there doesn't need to be deliberate, puzzle-like forethought for it to be enjoyable. It was certainly enjoyable.
Tranquilizing, holding up or otherwise knocking out guards in order to Fulton Recover them was a satisfying minigame within the overall structure of the mission thanks to their potential usefulness in developing MSF, while the missions themselves were wonderfully bite-sized as well. It didn't take long for me to realize that the true trick of Peace Walker was to forcefully get rid of the in-too-deep claustrophobia of older installments, wherein Snake descends steadily into the proverbial rabbit hole, unable to escape or return to sanity until the mission is complete, and replace it with a more high-level strategic system that grants the user with a sense of empowerment and clarity. Returning to Mother Base is a real breath of fresh air, allowing you to re-organize and evaluate the overall situation. How is that new shotgun R&D coming along? Did I win that Outer-Ops fight? Are those soldiers we stuck in the brig ready to cooperate yet? These are wonderful new questions for the Metal Gear player to think about before diving back into a mission, truly complimented by a range of nice little Extra Ops. (We don't count Portable Ops, or "that crap in San Hieronymo", as Master Miller puts it.)
Again and again throughout the game, you get the sense that you're in command. Unlike previous games, Snake isn't being forced or manipulated into accepting the mission in the first place. He just decides to accept, and continues to have loyal followers all along the way who admire him. It's remarkable how this changes the way we perceive the protagonist. Is he really the underdog anymore? He seems to be an unstoppable force who everybody respects as "Big Boss", regardless of whether they're with or against him. To the player, this translates into a kind of confidence and ease of mind, rather than the usual tension of being all alone; this is how Big Boss should feel at this point in the timeline.
Highs and Not-So-Highs
It's hard for me to find something to nitpick with Peace Walker, but the weakest aspect of the game design is probably be vehicle boss fights. Due to such a small sample of maps in which to fight them, the fights begin feeling repetitive and unbalanced. While the fights themselves follow a rather ancient pattern of dodging and counter-attacking, fighting an army tank escorted by a heavily armored squadron of soldiers is nearly impossible if you don't know which hiding places and patterns to exploit, and really easy once you do. I couldn't resist the opportunity to capture the vehicles for myself, so I played all of them I could find; but I kept imagining what it would be like to fight in a new location, where some new strategies could be used, and old ones would no longer work.
Gunfights with large groups of enemies is frustratingly difficult if you don't have the right weapon or positioning, but I don't get the sense that this is an accident. Avoiding combat, or otherwise well being prepared for it, is a staple of the series, so it only makes sense. Combat needs to be hard enough that it weighs on your mind as you sneak, and feels satisfying when you overcome it. The diversity of enemy soldiers, with helmets, body armor, camoflauge, and a variety of weapons remains an effective method of making sure there is no mindless beat-all strategy.
The ability to easily navigate and re-watch any of the game's cutscenes, meanwhile, is a dream come true. The fact that every mission has its own MGS1-like "Briefing" section, instead of trying to cram it into cutscenes or interrupt gameplay, is a huge step in the right direction. A more general set of archived files, unrelated to individual missions, is even better! If I want to hear about Kaz Miller's childhood days, I don't have to 
browse a massive list of save files to find one close to the section where it's incidentally mentioned — I just pop open the Briefing area and pick it from the list. And speaking of browsing massive lists of save files, I love the fact that there's only one per "name". In previous games (and MGS4 in particular, thanks to the downright evil installation screens) backtracking to important moments in the game to view a cinematic has always been a hassle, but here it couldn't be easier. And thanks fo the Briefing files isn't even necessary to play through those parts in the first place. The only reason to play a mission again is to accomplish something in the mission itself.
In the end, it's these kind of simple solutions that alleviate most of the game's potential flaws. Does it really matter if a certain mission is a pain in the ass if you only ever have to play it once? If you feel the need to play an old mission for the third or fourth time, perhaps it'll be more enjoyable thanks to all the new R&D gear you've accumulated since last time, too. The Stealth Camo itself can transform certain pains to pleasure, and make previously arduous missions a breeze. It's easy to take this for granted, but then again, great ideas usually feel natural once you use them.
Another potential flaw is the fact that codec calls made during a mission are virtually useless, but since the missions are so compact and focussed, they don't feel as important anyway. Enemies are pitifully easy to capture most of the time, reducing the challenge and satisfaction of sneaking up on them, but if they were any more difficult it would deter people from even trying. The fact that there is no difficulty setting itself seems to be a design flaw, but the whole system of controlling upgrades makes it a moot point; after all, if you couldn't get past a certain area on "Hard" mode, wouldn't you simply resort to developing better equipment until you had the advantage you needed? For those who want a real challenge, pick Naked Camo and try to get an S Rank; choosing difficulty becomes a voluntary, case-by-case situation, rather than a game-long decision that you may come to regret.
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