Defensive Mechanics
Alternative Title: "Why Maybe Not Every Game Needs Parrying"
A lot of things about the debut trailer for Doom: The Dark Ages got me excited. There’s a crazy new weapon that grinds the skulls of your enemies into ammo, we’re getting a chance to pilot a mech AND ride a dragon, and the combined dark fantasy and sci-fi aesthetic is showing a lot of promise already. There’s also this sick chainsaw shield which you can throw like Captain America to mow down enemies, bash into crowds of demons with… and use to block enemy attacks with specific timing to stun them and create an opening for yourself. Yup, Doom has parrying now. I’m seeing a lot of excitement for it online, but I’ve been mostly indifferent to it, especially in the face of everything else they showed. I can’t find that skull-shredding gun anywhere else, but parrying is all over the action game market. From Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance to Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice to Metroid Dread, parries have become an increasingly popular form of defense in video games. Hell, even Pizza Tower, a speed-based sidescroller all about blowing through levels and enemies as fast as you can, has a parry. It’s not that I can’t understand why it’s snuck its way into so many games, or even that I feel it’s necessarily out of place in all of them; I’m more bothered by the genre’s apparent fixation on only one of many ways to design defense in a game. I’ve decided to take the time not only to outline why parrying has become so dominant, but highlight other interesting forms of defense which parrying can detract from.
First, let me define what I mean by a parry. This is important because colloquial gaming terminology is far from standard even now. Anyways, I’m specifically referring to any mechanic that allows a player to precisely block the moment before an attack hits them for extra benefits. Such benefits almost always include completely negating damage (when blocking normally may still result in taking reduced damage) and allowing the player to act sooner after the parry than they would be able to if they had blocked. It’s also common for it to refill some of the player’s resources (potentially even their health), stun the enemy out of whatever attack was parried, grant the player invincibility briefly, or reflect parried projectiles back towards the sender. This type of mechanic also goes by names such as “perfect block” or “just defend.” Now for a few things that are not parries. Counters, or attacks which the player can time to trigger a counterattack when they are hit instead of taking damage, aren’t what I’m addressing. Clashes, where an attack makes contact with the enemy’s attack and causes both to deflect off of one another, are not parries, though they resemble parrying in real-life fencing more than what gamers have come to call a parry. Again, the terminology for these things gets mixed around all the time, so just remember as you read that this is how I’ll be using these terms throughout.
With that out of the way, let’s get into the meat of it. The image of parrying is that of a high risk, high reward defensive maneuver which requires great skill. You put yourself right in harm’s way only to turn it around on the enemy at the last second with a perfectly timed maneuver. Even if you didn’t intend to take a big risk, it’s a clutch way to get yourself out of a bad situation with sharp timing. For these reasons, it’s often very satisfying to successfully parry, and it’s satisfying in an immediate and simple way. This is especially true in multiplayer games like Street Fighter III: Third Strike, where parrying requires knowing what your opponent wants to do well before they do it. Parrying got its reputation as a high-skill maneuver for a reason, but depending on the game, it doesn’t always live up to it. Parrying looks pretty similar across most games it appears in, but there are three key aspects which have a serious impact on how easy it is to pull one off.
First is the timing. While precise timing is assumed, just how precise one needs to be can vary wildly. In some games, parrying can feel quite easy; Dead Cells allows up to half a second to pass between the player raising their shield and an attack being parried. That may sound small, but human beings are capable of much more precise timing than that. A full second is practically an eternity for timing in video games, especially after even just a little practice. On the flipside, some games like Street Fighter 6 can crank their timing window as low as two frames, or 2/60 of a second. Even with timing this precise, skilled players were able to execute perfect parries with such consistency that the Drive Parry stance was weakened in the game’s first major balance patch to increase the risk associated with parrying at the wrong time. Some games like Star Wars Jedi: Survivor widen the parry timing on lower difficulty settings, reducing risk for the same reward. During a brief segment near the end of the game where you play as a different character, parry timing is also much larger; since I played on the hardest difficulty, effortlessly parrying every attack with even sloppy block timing came as a surprise to me.
Second is the way a parry is input. Usually, it just requires pressing the same button that you use to block with more precise timing. This typically means that missing a parry doesn’t punish you much unless you’re late, since an early press will result in a standard block as long as the player remembers to keep the button held. Sometimes parrying requires you to forsake regular blocking instead; Super Smash Bros. Ultimate reworked the series’ powershielding mechanic to activate on a well-timed release of the shield button instead of a well-timed press, meaning that going for a parry means dropping your guard if your timing is wrong. Parrying may also occupy its own input in the absence of any safer form of blocking. Alternatively, it can be just plain weird like in Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance; parries are done by pressing the attack button with precise timing while pointing the stick towards the attacking enemy, and mistiming it still results in a block. This means that the player’s decisions to attack or defend often feel exactly the same, which is… not how I would do it, to say the least.
Third is what the action of parrying looks like. Parries are often only apparent when successful, with the only signs that you missed being taking a hit or blocking normally. These parries don’t “whiff” or incur any distinct action in-game when unsuccessful, making them less risky by allowing the player to cover a failed parry with other defensive options. By contrast, a parry which does whiff can leave one open when unsuccessful, especially so when said enemy is another player. While Third Strike’s parries don’t allow for simultaneous blocking like Street Fighter 6’s Drive Parry does, Third Strike’s don’t whiff, resulting in its best players discovering safe sequences of inputs for certain situations which use parrying to defend against myriad options at low risk. Drive Parry’s whiff animation still allows the player to block, but locking them into blocking leaves them vulnerable to throws, completely eliminating any potential for risk-free parries. When one can parry also matters. In action games like Devil May Cry 5, it’s common for players to be able to interrupt many of their own attacks with parrying, essentially removing vulnerability from offense if the player’s timing and awareness are sharp. Being able to do this in competitive games would be disastrously difficult for two human beings to play around, and as such these games typically do not allow this. Even in single-player games, interrupting offense with defense may only be possible for certain attacks and may only apply to sections at the beginning or end of the attack.
The wide variety of factors at play makes me believe that the popular perception of parries as this ultimate show of defensive skill isn’t very accurate. Many games make timing parries fairly generous, don’t punish the player much for failing to parry, and grant incredible reward for parrying regardless. In most games, the actual input for a parry is just a single press of a button; even when the timing is difficult, the mechanical complexity of the action rarely is. These factors combined mean that parrying in many games is actually pretty easy for all kinds of players to learn. The concept is even quite intuitive; you can block, but you can also block better if you’re careful, all with the same button. Unskilled players are likely to parry on accident sometimes. Regardless of this, parrying will always feel cool and skillful as long as it’s decently precise, since there’s room to fail even the simple button press variety. In this way, it’s not only an accessible defensive option, but a safe bet for satisfying gameplay. I’m not going to pretend like I haven’t gotten my fair share of joy out of parrying consecutive blows even as I write in favor of other defensive mechanics. In fact, basically my only gripe with parrying is the pedestal it’s been put on by gamers. It’s not a good fit for every kind of action game, and poor implementation of the mechanic can overshadow other defensive options or encourage sedentary, slow gameplay.
Let’s go back to Pizza Tower, the oddball parrying example I mentioned at the beginning. Not only is parrying an unusual mechanic for a high-speed game all about building up momentum and not stopping for anything, but the way it’s implemented lies in stark contrast to every other system in the game. Pressing the parry button causes Peppino to strike a pose which parries the next attack that hits him for a moment. A parry negates damage, reflects projectiles, and smacks the enemy if they hit you up close, but more importantly, it stops Peppino dead in his tracks. No matter how fast you were going, pressing that parry button kills all your momentum whether you actually parry something or not. This doesn’t mean that parrying is weak; parrying is a reliable means to defeat more dangerous enemies, and the fact that you can do it even at full running speed on or off the ground makes it very helpful as a last defensive resort. Despite this strength, the complete loss of speed makes parrying feel unsatisfying and jarring most of the time. In the face of every other mechanic allowing you to blast through enemies and nimbly avoid hazards, parrying rewards the act of standing there and waiting for attacks to come to you. Although Pizza Tower’s still a great game, this one mechanic feels so out of place; it seems the only reason it was added is because parries are just so cool on principle, and the way fans of the game have responded to it does nothing to discourage that interpretation.
This cuts to the core of my issues with the industry’s fixation on parrying; it is a distinctively passive and sedentary form of defense. Since it relies on attacks coming your way, moving around typically makes it harder; mobility is one of my favorite aspects of games, so anything that deemphasizes it too much isn’t a winner in my book. Attacking enemies yourself either staggers them, meaning they’re not giving you anything to parry while you beat them up, or they don’t flinch at all and you get smacked for daring to strike first (depending on the game and enemy type). A number of excellent action games like Furi have created intense and engaging combat systems which leverage parries well, but in their most rote interpretation, it can often feel like the game is eschewing cooler and more dynamic forms of offense and defense in favor of just waiting there, pressing the button at the right time, and cashing in your free hit.
Dante in Devil May Cry 5 is a rare example of both at once. He has an absolutely massive suite of attacks across four melee weapons, four guns, and his Swordmaster and Gunslinger styles which add extra moves to all eight of those. His Trickster style also gives him access to swift dashes and teleports that let him avoid attacks and zip between enemies. Combining these weapons and these three styles lets Dante beat devils senseless in an impossibly stylish and dynamic way which is quite satisfying to master. In comes his fourth style, Royalguard. You guessed it; it lets Dante parry. Moreover, parrying fills up the Revenge Gauge, which powers up a move that can deal ridiculous damage in a single hit when the gauge is filled sufficiently. That’s not all; said move deals more damage if it’s executed the moment before an attack hits Dante. With a tenth of a second to time a parry, a one-button input, and standard blocking when you miss, it’s only a moderately difficult form of parrying. Whereas his other styles and weapons all feed into the same creative and free-flowing playstyle, Royalguard accommodates a style of play which is entirely reactionary. In the case of Devil May Cry 5, Dante’s design as the most technical and varied character out of four options makes it both easier to ignore Royalguard if you don’t like it and less of a problem in the game design for it to be so powerful, but most games benefit more from placing the focus exclusively on mechanics which encourage a focused, fun way to play.
One alternative method of defense I find very interesting is the Castlevania series’ backdash. Debuting in Symphony of the Night and appearing in almost every Metroidvania-styled entry released afterwards, it allows the player to quickly dash backwards as the name implies. Unlike many other games’ dodging mechanics, Castlevania’s backdash doesn’t make the player invulnerable for even a moment. This means that players have to consciously move out of the way of attacks instead of timing their dodges to pass through attacks regardless of positioning. Castlevania’s gameplay has always emphasized careful spacing; attacks have distinct wind-up and recovery periods that make it rewarding to use them from the furthest range you can, minimizing risk. Backdashing helps players correct their spacing on the fly without making it too easy to stay up close against dangerous enemies. Players can even cancel the backdash early by attacking, allowing a swift riposte that compliments the faster pace of Metroidvania-style Castlevania games well. This mechanic is great for keeping you safe and encouraging this feeling of deftly dueling tough enemies like a fencer. If one could parry instead, all the consideration towards range and movement necessary to leverage the backdash would feel moot.
Fighting games are always a great place to find interesting defensive mechanics; the presence or lack of certain defensive mechanics has a big impact on the way every game in the genre feels. A very common fighting game defensive mechanic is the guard cancel. Guard canceling lets you spend a resource (typically the same meter which fuels your super attacks or some other powerful thing) to do an invincible counterattack while the opponent’s got you stuck blocking their attacks. While this sounds like a pretty cheap way to end your opponent’s offense, other aspects of how it’s balanced make it more interesting depending on the game. Most games make the guard cancel attack fairly slow, which means doing it late or after blocking a quick move like a jab can leave time for the opponent to block it and punish you. Sometimes it’s faster, but it only knocks the opponent back on hit instead of actually damaging them. While this serves a similar purpose to parrying in that it lets you strike back during the opponent’s offensive, the level of commitment it requires, its resource cost, and the options the opponent has to deal with it make it more interesting and interactive.
Interactivity is key with fighting game defense because it not only has to be fun to use, but fun to beat. For instance, dodges in fighting games provide an invincible way to approach, but typically have a vulnerable period near the end which encourages good timing from the user and satisfying reward for a patient player who catches someone dodging at the wrong time. Guilty Gear’s Faultless Defense system spends some of the Tension meter to push an enemy further back when their attacks are blocked; creating space like this can lead to clever defense where the defender pushes the attacker far enough away that their pressuring attacks will whiff and forces the attacker to think about their offense differently to avoid losing ground. While parries in fighting games have counterplay, it’s often a lot more abstract and unintuitive, with the risk/reward being skewed poorly at high levels. For instance, a technique dubbed SGGK by fans of Street Fighter III: Third Strike leverages parrying as part of a series of inputs which defends against multiple options the opponent can take while simultaneously keeping pressure up offensively. Sure, most players don’t have the chops to work this into their gameplan, but I disapprove of such a catch-all technique on principle.
In short, parries are cool and popular defensive mechanic, but one that is easily vulnerable to poorly balanced risk/reward which can invalidate other defensive options. Parries being a strong and useful mechanic in certain games isn’t a bad thing on its own, but as I observe the growing trend of throwing parries into all manner of action games, I find we risk losing more interesting and experimental takes on defense in the process. Clashes, counters, dodges, and plenty of other things create a lot of interesting interactions which the careless addition of parrying can make quite easy to ignore. I didn’t even get into the many ways mechanics which aren’t explicitly defensive, like jumping or crouching, can have interesting defensive uses; I had to stop writing at some point, after all. Of course, any mechanic is bad when implemented poorly, but parries are widely accepted even in situations where I feel they quite clearly don’t belong or function well. Consider this write-up my encouragement to devs to think more carefully about whether parries encourage the kind of gameplay style they’re trying to cultivate, and an invitation to players to keep an open mind about how they defend themselves in games.