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So, I just killed the hell out of God and then, for good measure, aced the living spirit of planet Earth. And I have to say, it really wasn't all that tough. I actually had more trouble (spoiler!) defeating Asura’s Wrath — literally, the Asura character himself when he completely wigged out and had to be stopped at all costs — than any enemy I fought while playing as Asura.
Mainly, that’s because most boss battles suck.
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The secret rules of game awesomeness apparently decree that any end-boss must be knocked down three times for ultimate defeat. Maybe they even transform into scarier versions of themselves between sessions! Or else they’re just bigger, healthier versions of the baddies you’ve been killing for hours. Find the exploit — it glows! — give it a good whack, savagely beat enemy while stunned, circle strafe to avoid incoming fire, yadda yadda yadda. Seriously, who put these kindergartners in charge of ultimate evil?
Enough’s enough. An end-boss should be two fistfuls of fiery murder who pummels you in the face for fun, not these too-predictable pushovers. We can build a better boss. We have the technology. And I've got seven ways we should implement it to get the full, devastating effect.
1. Ditch the clichés
Every time a boss transforms into a far deadlier boss — after I've nearly killed he/she/it, no less — I wonder why the hell he/she/it didn't just start off in their final form, mash me like a bug right up front, and spare itself an ass whoopin'. And if I can't tell exactly what I'm supposed to do without a big sign telegraphing the shoot-right-here-to-win spot, it's less a boss and more a walking design flaw.
Keep it organic and real. The game should've taught me what to do by now. Present me with the
King of Violence and allow me to figure out his weaknesses, tactics, and vulnerabilities for myself. That makes me feel smart. And when I foreclose on his mortgage, I'll feel smart and super-cool.
2. Everybody plays fair
The Street Fighter franchise boasts an impressively consistent roster of awful end-bosses, from M. Bison right up to the yin-yang freak they've got now. The developers even admit they code these failures to be cheap bastards, breaking basic gameplay rules in order to present a faux tougher opponent.
That's the gaming equivalent of deus ex machina, and it rings just as false. When I finally beat Bison for the first time, I felt relief…not elation, not pride, not vindication. Luck won, not me. I'm all for a dedicated pain-bringer, but victory — and defeat, for that matter — must feel earned. If the head of an evil empire cheats (and they should), make it a narrative point, not a gameplay shortcut. A boss should stomp you for one reason only: You're just not good enough.
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3. Bring it, baby
Y'know all those minions and minibosses you fought over the last few hours? They work for the end-boss, and it's not because the benefits are spectacular. Those total badasses fear him. You should, too. The last guy (or girl) you fight must be the crescendo event of the game. Everything led up to this. A great boss makes a great game…he's your reason for everything you do in the game, he's the ultimate problem you must solve, and beating those insurmountable odds truly is a cause for celebration. Hey, they're called a boss for a reason…they're supposed to be the boss of us. Until we can prove otherwise.
So no more soft-serve. Let me feel teeth in my throat. Give us Mike Tyson, Mother Brain, Dark Link. Hit me with your best shot, and make me work for it.
4. Surprise!
Once you figure out a boss' patterns, it's all over. Chip away, chip away, chip away all. And yet, these geniuses stick to their guns, unable to deviate from their now-suicidal behavior. At that point, it just feels like a mercy killing.
If I gain the upper hand, Mr. Boss should change his tactics. Hell, change everything. Allow the goals to evolve as the situation changes. Think of it as multiple story missions rolled up into one titanic struggle to defeat an evil genius who, unlike your typical video game A.I., really doesn't want to be defeated.
5. Son of a bitch must pay!
A lot of games dispense with the end-boss in favor of an end-boss situation. Call of Duty and Halo games trend that way, as did Mass Effect 3's final gunfight. But here’s what a boss battle does that those admittedly great conclusions don’t: They make things personal.
Sure, Final Fantasy 7's Sephiroth lined up a perfect plan to murder an entire planet, but that didn't matter to me. He killed Aeris. He even made me complicit. Give me an opponent who gets under my skin, someone whose destruction I dedicate myself to well in advance of the final confrontation. That emotional connection makes all the difference. Nothing beats waging a scorched-earth campaign through armies of scum to finally come face-to-face with the one guy who’s responsible for all the pain and suffering in the world…or my world. And then punching him in the brain.
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6. It takes everything you've got
Psychonauts’ penultimate (and infamously tough) race through a psychotic circus completely eclipses its actual end-boss fight, because that's the place where the game pushes you to put all your learned skills together in one breakneck sequence.
A good end-boss does the same thing. Break me out of the comfortable tactics I've developed at this point and make me constantly adapt. Force me to use all the powers and skills I've built up in new combinations just to stay alive. Make me put every resource I have into the fight, and make me think it still might not be enough.
7. Use your imagination
Here's where I play the Kojima card. Say what you will, but Hideo Kojima (Metal Gear Solid) puts ideas on the table, and he makes you approach a boss fight differently. You're frequently invited to think around the problem and take an out-of-the-box approach.
Take two minibosses from Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater. To beat The Sorrow’s ghost army, you’ve got to kill yourself. You even get a fail screen. The cat-and-mouse jungle hunt for elderly super-sniper The End capitalizes perfectly on Metal Gear’s stealth-action philosophy, but you can skip the whole thing by setting your console clock ahead a week, so he dies of old age. Give me the tools and the options to use logic that actually applies to the situation, and let me out-think a problem as much as I out-shoot it. The game that makes me feel clever is an instant classic.
