a wise invention-
tool of clout; of protection.
lo! a hittin' stick!
Additional Comments:
I love this game! Love, love, love...
Wait! What's this? A fresh game - something that hasn't been stinking up my backlog like a sack of old potatoes. Hot damn!
Thanks to Microsoft's Games with Gold, I was introduced to this gem of a game, though I wasn't exactly gung ho from the start. I was pleased to see an adventure/platformer mishmash, but I've often found myself leery of newer games befitting of the genre. All too often, these types of games come off as generic. Rarely do they ever introduce anything of note. Honestly, Dust is no different, yet I found myself strangely addicted to its vast amalgamation of game styles. However, it took some time before Dust grabbed me by its claws - or perhaps, his claws.
My initial observations of the game nearly soured my experience beyond the point of no return. Between the pop-up character scenes used to progress the story or for some quick witted banter - reminiscent of the cheesy storytelling tools found in some of the various RPG Maker's - and the game's emphasis on Metroidvania style design - a style I've never been the biggest fan of, though most of that likely stems from my general distaste for the two series that eventually spawned the portmanteau moniker - my expectations took an immediate dive. Add to that, the voice acting came off as juvenile, or perhaps it was just the script. Heck, the whole presentation felt rather puerile.
The game kept conjuring images of MapleStory or any other Korean made adventure/RPG bullshit saturating the web with its free to play atrocities. For much of the game, I was convinced Dust was conceived somewhere within the borders of South Korea. With its cutesy, anthropomorphic Disney-esque artwork, its cringing dialogue making me feel embarrassed lest I'm a tween, and even its adorable twin heart logo, I had a hard time imagining the game was anything but Korean. I was surprised to find out Dust was more or less a one man project dished out from the States. Maybe all my gaming facts have been given a good knock and I'm just confused over the whole matter. Anywho....
Despite my initial grumbling, I gave the game a whirl. By the time I got three screens in, the artwork completely won me over with those adorable deer prancing through the forest. Again, I feel a lick of embarrassment being lured in by such darling imagery, but it's so utterly captivating - the world, the characters, the details, the resplendent beauty of it all. Cutesy, anthropomorphic Disney-esque artwork? Sure, bring it on! Then again, I've always liked the early era Disney art style. It's true mastery of illustration.
When I learned about the Dust Storm and Fidget's ability to throw projectiles, I was sold on Fidget's annoying pre-teen banter. Her high hopes of impressing Dust with her three measly charged particles reminded me of one of my all-time favorite Calvin and Hobbes strips where Calvin hoped to belt Susie with a snowball only to see it fall inches from his feet thanks to gravity's abnormally strong presence on that particular day; also explaining his earlier breakfast mishap. Ah, imagination. Typically, adding characters purely for comic relief accomplishes nothing better than a plethora of bad puns and endless eye-rolling. I expected as much from Fidget in the beginning, but by the time I reached Aurora, I appreciated Fidget's worth in full, from her incredible attack potential to her childish sense of humor using modern sensibilities. Her uncanny ability to cull up the ridiculous: sleep combo, evil knife hands, stupid hat club etc left me chuckling with glee for most of the game. Her dialogue constantly teeters on the cusp of juvenile stupidity, yet entertains heartily.
For that matter, the dialogue in general was a nice escape from the typical heavy-handed drama found in most games. As a result, most games tend to suffer from overacting - Vay comes immediately to mind. Dust, feels far more natural in the dialogue department, though at times it may still feel forced, namely those dramatic scenes enacted by Dust himself.
Circling back to Fidget's comic relief and the general humor weaved throughout the game, it reminded me of The Bard's Tale. It's blatantly sophomoric at times, but careful not to overstep its bounds unlike the base attempts at laughs in, for instance, Fable. Additionally, much akin to The Bard's Tale, Dust was self aware, or insomuch that Fidget was self aware that she was nothing more than a character in a video game. I love when games do this, though obviously it has to be carefully done or it can go horribly awry. The Bard's Tale successfully "broke the fourth wall" so to say, and here, Dust managed similar effects with gusto, especially Fidget's astonishment when Dust manages to pocket one of Gappy's sheep. Besides Fidget's awe, Dust's response, or lack thereof, is priceless. After all, doesn't everyone have an unlimited inventory that can hold all manner of objects? Hmm, sudden memories of D&D's Bag of Holding are stirred.
It can be said that the fighting in this game errs towards monotony. Attempting to draw inspiration from beat 'em ups or fighting games, Dust offers up a handful of combos in your fighting arsenal, but sadly they're all pretty useless. Beyond feverishly mashing the X button or making strategic use of the Dust Storm, I found little to no need for any of the combos. Still, there's something to be said for mindless button mashing. Sometimes, it just works - think any quality hack 'n slash such as Gauntlet or the Dark Alliance series. While I sensed the game was trying to reach out to its brawler roots, its pacing placed too much emphasis on quicker action sequences - quick enough to blur the line from strategic battle sequences to mindlessly murder everyone and everything. However, if the game's reliance on brawler tactics succeeded, my enjoyment for the game would have definitely waned. I enjoy a good beat 'em up but Dust is neither the time nor place. In my opinion the fighting works as is, and though it may be repetitive, I thoroughly enjoyed it - enough to willingly play all four modes to 117% completion back to back to back in rapid succession.
There is one gripe I have, and if you know me, it should be predictable: unnecessary retailers flooding the land. Other than the one or two keys you need to purchase in order to achieve 117%, I never bought anything from the shopkeep on all four playthroughs. There's no reason to - no reason to buy curative creations, weaponry, materials, anything. First off, the monsters dump more than enough items to satisfy even the most intent hoarder. Add to that a blacksmith that can craft any given item at a moment's notice, granted you have enough materials, which even if you only fight a bare minimum of evil denizens there's a good chance you do, and soon enough your inventory will be overflowing with a vast cornucopia of items. And if you choose to sell any of the excess items - which honestly, I see no point - you'll only add to your already overabundant wealth. At no time, other than perhaps trekking through The Glade for an initial blind run, is it necessary to visit the shops for anything. Oh, the shops do have one purpose I suppose: to catalogue all the newfound materials gathered along your journey which I think is necessary for 117% completion. I'm not entirely certain to that claim however as I defaulted to registering every material out of habit.
A related complaint can be made about any and all of the healing items. They're all useless, especially once you acquire an item with regenerative properties. The only time I relied on food usage was during the final boss on Tough and that's only because I treated Tough more as a speedrun and by the time I reached the endgame, my various attributes were on the weak end of the spectrum. Every other difficulty I maxed out my attributes, but on Tough I definitely felt the affects of marginalizing my abilities. Perhaps that's the key to experiencing difficulty - sandbag your abilities, or heck, just use the Ugly Pendant. No, that's just the key to needlessly dragging out each battle scene. Boring.
But if the shop is the only thing I can genuinely complain about, than this game is golden. And it is. I thoroughly enjoyed Dust despite my initial apprehensions that I was about to play some shitty Korean grindfest. Everything I initially brooded turned out to be the very reasons why I loved the game. The artwork is gorgeous, especially Cirromon Caverns - yes, Fidget, it is beautiful. The voice acting is enjoyable, and overall the scripting is fairly well done. It takes a little getting used to at first, especially Fidget's campy teenage nonsense, but it's far easier to forgive, appreciate, and eventually adore than any of the over dramatic abominations typically found running rampant in video games. The overall gameplay certainly isn't top notch or groundbreaking, but the controls are tight, the game's intuitive and there's more than enough fun factor to go around. And then there's the music. Ok, some of the music accomplishes the basic requirements of game music: decent quality BGM's. But then you have tunes like Cirromon Caverns. I often found myself revisiting Cirromon Caverns above and beyond what was necessary just to listen to this song. It's one of those perfect mood setting pieces and fits beautifully with the otherworldly scenery.
Nano-Rant:
Ah! But I can't let the game off that easily. In Hardcore mode the game decided to become a bit of a dick by removing invincibility frames after being hit. Removing invincibility itself is not the issue, and definitely no reason to complain, but there's a particular area in lower Cirromon Caverns where the lack of invincibility proves that even a lighthearted game like Dust can be a real asshole at times. Because of the lack of invincibility frames, environmental hazards can become serious deathtraps as you're no longer allowed the privilege of escape under temporary invincibility. Add to that the unpredictability of bubble sprouts and some serious knockback and you've got a formula for all sorts of evil. Uphill spike jumps, bubble sprouts, knockback, and lack of invincibility - hoo boy, did I ever face evil straight in the eye. My deaths were far too numerous to count just to try and pass this one area - far exceeding all the rest of my deaths combined not only throughout the rest of the game, but across the other difficulties as well. And, yes, I truly wish I was exaggerating this point but I'm not. The one time I passed it successfully without error, I succumbed to an ignorant death later on down the road before I came across the next save temple. In the end, I had to manipulate my knockback in hopes the bubble sprouts would help me cross the evil spikes of evil as opposed to further impeding any progress.
Nano-Win:
I can't possibly ignore the brilliance of Mysterious Wall Chicken, an obvious nod to Castlevania and/or everyone's favorite Castlevania II moment of stupidity: the secret red gem whirlwind. Huzzah!
Rating: 5 demon blacksmith's out of 5*
*The worst kind of blacksmith.
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