Thursday, October 31, 2013

PS1 - Myst

Haiku-Review:

struggle with puzzles
whilst I make a decision,
choose: red page or blue?

Additional Comments:

First thing's first. I must concede that no matter my thoughts, I feel that they may not hold as much weight since I played through a port on the PlayStation as opposed to the highly acclaimed PC original. However, based on my experience, I'm of the impression the port did the game fair justice; I might question the load times and bemoan the sharpness of the graphics (especially the fonts - reading the books in the library proved hazardous to my eyes), but consider it spot on otherwise.

Secondly, Myst is one of those titles that somehow you knew by name even if you weren't a PC gamer, like myself. The concept of PC games, outside Zork, Oregon Trail, Carmen Sandiego, and various titles I had on an Apple II GS - wait, come to think of it, I had that Apple II after Myst would have flooded the marketplace - was completely foreign to me. In fact, it was non-existent. By the early to mid 90s, I didn't even know of games existing on computers with the exception of this strange piece of software I kept hearing about called Myst. And to be honest, I wasn't even certain it was a game. I'd hear people talk about it, but could never decipher exactly what it was. All I knew was that it was some sort of powerhouse that only the PC elite ever got to experience - essentially, people who came from households that could actually afford a PC. I wasn't one of those people, nor were most of my friends at the time.

But not everything worked against me. Eventually, I had some first hand experience with Myst at a Sears, I think. By this time, I came to learn that it was a confusing puzzle game that offered no insight for possible solutions. I recall finding it on an in-store demo computer where I walked aimlessly back and forth in a tree house, totally befuddled on how the hell to do anything. I couldn't even exit the structure! Frustrating!

I couldn't wait to tackle that same locale now that I finally owned a copy of the game. Uh...wait... What? Well, turns out whatever the hell I played briefly on store demo years and years ago was not Myst. I'd really like to know what game I did demo as my recollection is that it was far more frustrating than what Myst turned out to be. Then again, I had no context and a real unfamiliarity with PC gaming at the time.

Fast forward to the present. Going in, I was still perplexed over what Myst was. All I knew was that it supposedly contained some devilishly tricky puzzles and a mysterious, yet stunning landscape. And after completing the game, all I can confirm is that it contains some dev...eh, a mysterious, yet stunning landscape. Everything else is open to interpretation.

One important aspect of the game that impacts it both positively and negatively is the absence of everything: NPC's/creatures, background information, HUD, everything. This game is a total vacuum. While it makes the world that much more intriguing by stripping away all the knowledge and details other games like to disperse throughout their game worlds like flies around an orchard, it also makes everything far more convoluted than it needs to be. The way the game just drops you into the world and says, "Have at it," is simply frustrating. Never mind the fact that (eh, spoilers of a sort) the final puzzle in the game was negated because it happened to be the very first thing I accomplished out of sheer curiosity and confusion. That tripped me up more than anything come the end of the game because I didn't expect the solution to be something I had already chanced upon by accident (/spoilers).

Thing is, the puzzles weren't that hard to figure out. In fact, I'd hesitate to call half of them puzzles. The solutions are all very straight forward. Manipulate a switch here, pay attention to some insignia there, manipulate another switch over here. Rinse and repeat. There were only two times where I could genuinely say I was stumped, but I wouldn't say it was through the fault of a puzzle. Once in the Stoneship Age and once in the Mechanical Age I fell victim to asinine circumstances - be it the location of a certain switch or the questionable functionality of another certain switch. In the case of the latter, I apparently solved the "puzzle" but couldn't even begin to tell you what the actual solution is or how to execute it. Chalk that one up to dumb luck along with the aforementioned final puzzle. Hell, a good portion of this game can be chalked up to dumb luck, despite the knowledge on how to solve every puzzle except for the one I already mentioned.  After the fact, I have a theory of what the solution may be and how to execute it, but the game is done, and frankly I just don't care anymore.

I have very limited knowledge in the point-and-click genre as I'm not a PC gamer, but from those few games I have played, I found this one to be pretty weak. It's interesting, I'll give it that, and a marvel to look at, but I think Cyan's decision to strip the game of all the amenities found in other games, it stripped the essence of a game from the game. I get it. It's meant to be immersive, and it is. But it also gives the impression that it's nothing more than an interactive storybook than an actual game. While the same could be expressed for any point-and-click title, nearly every other point-and-click game at least offers a variety of options in solving puzzles through the use of various tools and different ways to manipulate an assortment of objects. Myst could be considered a step above a pop-up book. Sounds harsh, but if you seriously think about it, it's not that far from the truth.

Stepping away from Myst, the game, and instead turning our attention to Myst, the interactive storybook, I found it strangely enjoyable. Obviously, not as a game, but as an investigation into the bizarre environments that make up the world. If it wasn't for the majesty of the peculiar landscapes and the unnerving mystery and loneliness, I probably would have said, "Fuck this," and moved on to something else. And combine that with the excellent Foley work and nearly transcendental soundtrack, with works like The Tower, and the real star of the show takes the helm: mood. It reminds me of Super Columbine Massacre RPG! in that mood not only superseded every other element of the game, but did so effectively and with authority. Incredibly, for the sake of total immersion, Cyan wanted to forgo a soundtrack. What a hot mess that would have been, as there's very little to grip onto now. I suppose that could have helped stir up a claustrophobic unease akin to a survival horror game, but it's worlds apart from that genre. Although, if the gameplay was exponentially enhanced, I could see Myst working brilliantly as a survival horror.

I wish I could say the story helped as well, but I'm hesitant to say a story even exists. It does, but it's...weird. Not in the sense that its equivalent to an "acid trip for book readers" as Sven so eloquently expressed when I told him how ridiculous this "game" is, but in the way story is utilized in attempting to move the player forward. There's some fascinating backstory to be found throughout the world, but on the whole, the plot feels more vacuous than "Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!" For an adventure point-and-click game, that's not right. And for an interactive storybook, that's downright suicide! But if you can manage to piece all the bizarre plot line table scraps together, it is a fascinating sci-fi mystery which I think would fit more at home in paperback form than as computer software. Wait! Myst does exist in paperback form. Although I will admit there's a definite advantage taking the world of Myst down the video game route. As a game, we got to see the world come to life - that is if non-animated stills with a few cues of FMV is considered bringing something to life. It's debatable.

Nano-Rant:

I'm not sure if this is a result of the game being ported, or if this was present in the original game, but what is the deal with the screen/control locking when a certain aforementioned puzzle is executed incorrectly? Besides being suddenly deafened by a raging security system, my irritability threshold jumped through the roof as I thought the game gave out as I tried like hell to retreat back out into the wilderness. I don't understand the logic of locking the controls. While the rest of the game aimed for total immersion, that one instance broke down all barriers. Am I just missing something here?

Pico-Rant:

And are you fucking kidding me with this ending? I wasn't even sure if the game was over. Why would I want to further explore the lands when there is fucking nothing left to do!? What sort of game rolls the credits on the bad endings but then flips you the bird as you're eternally stuck in primitive isolation? What a piss-poor end to a mediocre game.

Rating: 2.5 volts out of 5*

(Honestly, it was tough to judge Myst. As a game, sad to say, it just isn't very good. But as a mysterious sci-fi experience, intriguing enough to make we want to continue the series.)

Friday, October 25, 2013

PS2 - We ♥ Katamari

Haiku-Review:

what's the perfect roll?
shops, sushi, trophies and cats?
think bigger - the sun!

Additional Comments:

After finishing Katamari Damacy, I couldn't wait to dive into its sequel. The game had wowed me so much, I just wanted to experience more - more levels, more worlds, more zany interpretations of every day objects and more tongue-in-cheek explanations of unfamiliar items from the far east. However, not to be put off on rolling, I decided to put We ♥ Katamari on the back burner for a bit while I tried my hand at a variety of gems and failures. Eventually, with the end of Dark Cloud, I decided it was time the Prince was put back to work; exploring and interacting with every conceivable object on this strange, cubist re-imagining of Earth.

From the get go, it was obvious this game took everything we knew from the original and turned it up a notch. The Select Meadow alone was more than prophetic that, while the same, I wasn't quite playing the same game. Additional game modes are thrown into the mix to help add variety to the already tried and true formulas. The developers certainly added some unique ideas, be it rolling a fledgling wrestler on a calorie binge so that he may become champion of the ring, a strategic roll through the zoo to attain record size while only picking up a predetermined amount of objects, or an epic gardening marathon that can literally go on for days (eh, I'll come back to that one). But despite all the new modes, at its core, We ♥ Katamari is still the same game as its predecessor: roll a giant ball around and collect everything you can. Splendid!

Then why do I feel so disenchanted after playing this one as opposed to the first? After all, it's got everything Katamari Damacy had to offer and more! But somehow, it felt like it took a step back. I can't pin it down to anything in particular; more a culmination of varying aspects managing to sap some of the frenetic, quirky energy prevalent in the first. Yet, even then, I can't say what they did wrong and what they did right. I could pin it down to some of the new game modes, for instance the Firefly stage, but for every useless or uninspired stage, We ♥ Katamari impressed with numerous new modes such as the Sumo stages or Save the Pandas. But perhaps that is the difference. Whereas the original game offered fun within every one of its stages, here we had to put up with a few snores such as the aforementioned Firefly stage, Sweet Meadow, and especially 1,000,000 Roses. And pair some of these "lazy" stages with a now, for the most part, lackluster soundtrack and tedium begins crawling from out of the woodwork.

Fortunately, most of the stages that offer little to no excitement are one time gimmicks and can be easily completed in the sense of collection purposes. If, however, achieving the Super Clear is your goal, they not only become tiresome, but begin to drag down the overall experience of the game. I suppose the same could be expressed for any Super Clear, but I never found attempting to clean sweep Paper Cranes an issue whereas striving for dazzling on the Firefly stage was just boring. Come to think of it, I didn't like the campground layout no matter what stage it was used for. Perhaps that's the thorn in my backside - the campground.

There are a couple other fiddly bits in the game, however. One, is the music. Whereas I loved the entire soundtrack of the first game, We ♥ Katamari's soundtrack sounds phoned in. The same bouncy, kooky cheese and pop hooks are still present, but it all sounds so muddled and secondary. The soundtrack plays like an afterthought, which is no surprise when you consider Yū Miyake originally wanted to take it in a completely different direction, but unfortunately the resources to do so were unavailable. As a result, we get to enjoy a watered down imitation of the first. Ah well. At least there are a couple tracks of note thrown in there, namely A Song for the King of Kings. This piece makes me feel like I'm watching some epic Spielberg movie. Honorable mention goes out to Overture II - very Guaraldi like.

Of lesser note, but definitely detracts from the expected feel of the game, is the overall loss of the King of All Cosmos' sassy demeanor. Yea, it's still there, but it's more hokey or forced now as opposed to the straight up casual dickishness on Katamari Damacy. He no longer apathetically "loses" presents that he originally picked up for the Prince with every little bit of love and sincerity in mind. However, he might attempt to chastise the Prince's rolling technique - key word: attempt. And then there's the cutscenes. While they're still quirky - in it's cutesy, fairy-tale presentation - I no longer watched them with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. I suppose We ♥ Katamari sort of lost its way when it came to all the bells and whistles that made the original seem so out there. Or maybe it's just that Katamari Damacy absolutely nailed it coming out of the park. But there are plenty of admirable improvements present, so.... Is it really that much of a back step?

No, it isn't. Even with a few uninspired modes, a relatively weak soundtrack, and a nauseating post game event that makes Final Fantasy X's two hundred lightning jumps look like a walk in the park, We ♥ Katamari is still an absolute blast. I'd highly recommend the game to any fan of the series, and I can't wait to play another installment  - looking at you Beautiful Katamari. Heck, it may even be the series that finally forces me to add a PSP to my gaming collection. As a result, most of my whining is just that: whining.

Nano-Rant:

Whining that is until the asinine saga of 1,000,000 Roses snags you by its thorns and refuses to let go. Holy crap!!! At first glance, it doesn't seem that ludicrous until you realize you've been rolling for an hour or two and you're still shy of 10,000 flowers. It's at this point you start running various maths in your head trying to calculate minimal roses per hour just to make the stage remotely feasible. It doesn't happen. It just doesn't happen. I read about rubber-banding the stage, but being the stubborn idiot that I am, wanted to try and do the event completely legit. I held fast over the course of a week or two of casual game play, managing a measly 150k. Fuck this....

Not proud to admit, but I succumbed to the lowly rubber band and let it man the controls over the next week until it added a mighty fine 800,000 roses. I rounded out the final 50k on my own, and voilà, one million roses for...nothing. Being a post-game event, I didn't expect much, but I expected more than the King of All Cosmos returning to his true Katamari Damacy form. But wait, earlier I laid into the game because the King had mellowed. Ah! I see what you did there. Bravo, Namco! Bravo!

[psst, 1,000,000 Roses is still a shit event...]

Rating: 4 pompadour-baguette fused hearts out of 5