Thursday, August 28, 2014

GB - The Smurfs

Haiku-Review:

they're three apples high,
but they're as big as a cat?
must be Hokuto's

Additional Comments:

I'm well aware of all Smurf related proportion discrepancies. Having been a fan of the wee blue creatures since I was myself a wee creature, I've had my fill of questioning Smurf perspective. But on a more interesting note, and a more relative note, the Smurfs hold a special place in my video game heart. The very first video games I ever played and cherished were from the storied Atari 2600, and among those treasured memories are games like Frogger, River Raid, Pac-Man, Combat, Asteroids, and Smurf: Rescue in Gargamel's Castle. Like the others mentioned, I remember loving Rescue in Gargamel's Castle and playing it endlessly. Sadly, it's the one 2600 title I've yet to replace. I vaguely recall trying it on a emulator a few years back, but it just wasn't the same. Without that stiff joystick feel, it's a mere fraction of the true Atari experience.

But that's all just an unrelated yarn in regards to the game in hand other than they both share the same roots: Smurfs. If only the Game Boy's take on the fungal-dwelling Smurfs carried the same joy as Rescue in Gargamel's Castle. Before I go any further, that one statement should speak volumes, but I'm going to say I'm erring on the side of nostalgia against The Smurfs for the Game Boy because nostalgia has a funny way of pulling at our heartstrings. Consider it a crux, I suppose.

The Smurfs is a simple platformer containing short, concise levels. Considering it's a Game Boy title, it's hard to condemn the narrow-minded approach of each level. Gimmicks are straightforward and focused, so much so that nearly nothing else exists within each level. Any other system, namely consoles, and I'd find the overall design lacking, but somehow it works here. The only time I was left wanting more would likely be The Cliff, but the gimmick itself is impressive for the Game Boy, so I can overlook its incredibly short stretch of real estate.

However, I would criticize some of the more claustrophobic moments on levels like The Old Gold Mine. There's a particular dip in the track about two-thirds of the way in where the cart and a falling boulder approach it at the same time but the ceiling is so low that it's damn near impossible to jump the boulder without getting hit. I think I only managed to get past that boulder once damage free out of a good twenty times or so. The Sarsaparilla Fields has its moments with those reflecting fuzzballs, though I'd pin that down to faulty collision tactics.

I hardly call that case for concern though as the levels are solid enough to shrug off some of the more devious slip-ups. I'd probably accredit the sheer variety of level builds to my upturned snootiness towards solid, but realistically sub-par design. It reminds me of a watered-down Little Nemo as far as general level construction is concerned, but then, a Game Boy version of anything is going to be a watered-down version of its former glory. So, why complain? But seriously, what will they throw at me next in Hefty's grand adventure? Whether rafting down a river, flying on the back of an old trustworthy stork, or shredding snow on a sledge - eh, sledges don't exactly invoke snow shredding capabilities -  The Smurfs certainly can't be disparaged for stale level design.

Levels aside, and the sad truth that of all the Smurfs to be rescued, Brainy has to be one of them - nobody likes Brainy, nobody - there is a sizable transgression enacted by two of the three bosses. All three bosses are decent ideas, in fact, I think Gargamel is rather clever - simple, but clever. Unfortunately, both the dragon and Gargamel are poorly designed in practice. There is absolutely zero room for error in either battle. Essentially, there is only one way to defeat each of these bosses and if you make even the slightest misstep, consider yourself smurfed. Even on Easy, I suffered numerous deaths on each of these bosses, though I think the dragon infuriated me more. Really, it's the stupid one tile wide platforms that are perfectly placed to cause the greatest level of annoyance that brings the dragon's battle to a grinding halt. But that's also a matter of Hefty's ambiguous jump physics. Am I really gaining x acceleration if I suddenly hit the B button mid jump or is my mind just playing tricks on me. I swear I accidentally overshot some jumps because of this weird momentum anomaly. The real question though: why do game's with iffy jump mechanics rely so heavily on one tile wide platforms? Somehow game designers decided that's the perfect marriage of fuck all to piss gamers off to no end. Bravo! But I'm off point. Funny enough, it wasn't until my playthrough on Hard where I finally understood the necessary jump pattern to defeat the dragon without succumbing to a dastardly placed flame. Likewise, I killed Gargamel on my first attempt on Hard while I failed continuously on the easier difficulties. What irony.

The sudden spike in difficulty from easy-peasy levels to unforgiving bosses is the true culprit preventing this game from being a noteworthy platformer from the old grey brick. Considering the simpleness of the levels though, gaming mediocrity is really all it hoped to ever achieve. It did manage to sneak a few catchy tunes in there such as The Swamps or The Flight of the Stork. Both of those tracks stir up thoughts of some of the more amazing Commodore 64 or Amstrad CPC music.

It's worth a try for Game Boy enthusiasts, I suppose, but nothing more. For fans of platformers, consider it a miss. And for fans of the Smurfs, well I still prefer Rescue in Gargamel's Castle even if I'm living under the pretense of nostalgia goggles. I'm sure others might share the same sentiment for this game over other Smurf games, and I'm sure most, if not all, would disagree with me regarding the old 2600 classic. Like I care.

Rating: 2.5 evil Smurfs out of 5*

*Wait. Who are these evil Smurfs? Did Gargamel mold more twisted decoys out of clay? I figured after the Smurfette failure, Gargamel would give up on that particular plan of attack.

Monday, August 18, 2014

4th & Inches

No, I'm not referring to the old football classic from the Commodore era. Instead I refer to four years of hootin' and hollerin' over games that infuriate me, engage me, or simply wow me. Whether people visit my little corner of the web or not is inconsequential to my affairs, but Beat All Games has helped push me to play some games I'd never think of playing - for better or worse. Otherwise, I'd probably be like so many other gamers out there and stick with what's comfotable, with whatever's fresh and popular, with whatever's on the most current systems. I'd still take nostalgic trips to my NES, SNES, Genesis, PlayStation, or what have you, but I'd likely return to the same titles that I grew up loving and nary venture into the unknown. Beat All Games has also helped me grow my collection as I continue to try and pick up games I've never heard of or caught wind of somewhere else on the net - enough to grab my attention and make me say, "I've got to get that game." So to the very existence of Beat All Games I say kudos.

This calls for a celebration and Beat All Games celebrates the only way it knows how: posting arbitrary lists for the sake of adding more useless lists out in internet land. But what's more, unlike last year, I've actually added a bevy - well, maybe not a bevy, but a fair amount - of games to my completion log. Perhaps fair amount is itself the definition of exaggeration, but for once my completion total has been on the upswing - a first since the beginning of this little experiment in gaming. Ta-da!

It's been a while since I've done a top/worst five, so perhaps I'll throw one of those up on the board. There's been a number of games since I last made such a list so there's a good chance my new list will no longer replicate my old list. In fact, I know it doesn't, although a few games from the old list still retain their positions. It's very likely a couple of those titles will stand the test of time in their current positions. First, I'll list my top five games taken down since the beginning of Beat All Games followed up by the worst five.


Top 5
5. XBox One - Guacamelee! Super Turbo Championship Edition
It managed to eek its way onto the list; not by merit, but by time. One of the tightest, most engaging nouveau platformers I've played.

4. Super Nintendo - The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past
One of those titles where I forget just how incredible it is as time passes. Then I play it and am simply blown away.

3. Nintendo Entertainment System - Super Mario Bros. 3
I admit nostalgia, but at the same time, I find it an absolute thrill every time I boot it up.

2. PC - VVVVVV
If less is more, it's no wonder this game is held in such high regard. It's a marvel of simplistic innovation taken to the extreme.

1. PlayStation 2 - Katamari Damacy
Rounding out simplicity, Katamari takes it a step further and wins with campy joyfulness and addicting gameplay - not to mention incredible music.

Bottom 5
5. Sega Master System - Sonic the Hedgehog 2
It saddens me that an early Sonic game could be this horribly designed. Not expecting 16-bit miracles, but considering the first game, what went wrong?

4. XBox - Fable: The Lost Chapters
I still believe this could have been a great game if it weren't for stupid developmental decisions and extraneous bullshit clogging the tubes.

3. Dreamcast - Shenmue
I've never been more baffled over general opinion regarding a game, except perhaps for Majora's Mask. Shenmue is an awful, boring, hollow affair.

2. Genesis - TechnoCop
Perhaps if the developers weren't so scatterbrained regarding TechnoCop's structure, something would be halfway functional - be it driving or platforming or...anything.

1. Nintendo Entertainment System - Where's Waldo?
I feel sorry for anyone who paid good money for this "game" back in the day. Total gaming garbage right here.


And before I go.... Up until now, with a few exceptions here and there, I've tried my best to follow franchises in order. While I'm still going to try and do that when and if I can, I've decided to be far less stringent moving forward. The upside of such a rule is I can better gauge implementations of certain mechanics and judge failings or improvements from title to title. An example, which affected my view on the game, was when I played Alex Kidd in the Enchanted Castle before playing Alex Kidd in Miracle World. Both games are great, but sadly I skewed my perception of Miracle World because I played the vastly superior Enchanted Castle first.

That being said, I've purposefully put off a number of games that I'm eager to play because I'm trying to track down a preceding title first or I have said title and I'm currently suffering through a bad gaming experience. The Smash Bros. series is a good example as I'm just not enjoying the N64 title whatsoever. I hate the controls, and...everything, I just hate everything about this game and I'm having a miserable time playing it, but I love both Melee and Brawl. Certain titles, for various reasons, I'll likely abide by sequential order as best I can whereas other titles - hey, it's fair game.

If anything, I have a sneaky suspicion my completion count will be positively affected by this as well since I know I've been holding wins back as I try to sneak in an earlier title - q.v. Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance series.

And so, huzzah! Four years, and here's to hoping the upswing continues.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

PS1 - Suikoden

Haiku-Review:

a hundred and eight;
is it really that many?
absurd to keep score

Additional Comments:

Suikoden has taught me a wise truth: gamers are idiots who will easily buy into hype. Make no mistake, I include myself in the lot. Based purely on the praises spread across the internet and the overzealous raving down at my local vintage game shop, I had to snatch up Suikoden while the window of opportunity presented itself before some other game hungry hound sniffed it out and bought it from under my nose. After all, Suikoden is considered a magnificent gem of an RPG that has somehow snuck under the radar ever since its release. Take my money, please. But alas, I'm one of those very idiots that shelled out likely far more money than I care to admit for this game because others said I should.

But why all the grumbling? Suikoden truly is a masterful work from seminal publisher, Konami. They decided to take the tried and true formula that has been beaten to death by Square and put their own spin on it. Unique features include a ridiculously large cast of characters, most of whom can be used as player characters; the ability to build your own home base, and mass combat, something that is severely lacking in games in general. Lacking in the sense that it's handled as actual mass combat as opposed to representations of armies in turn based combat in games such as Civilization, Advance Wars, or other strategy games. Reading through the manual before popping the disc in, the mass combat seemed iffy. The card system sounded derivative of cheesy RPG card games, but at least the idea as a whole sounded fresh. Seriously, what other RPG could claim a fully functional mass combat mechanic in which the player was directly involved. At least for me, none that I've played - that I'm aware of. Then again, with the vast number of games I've played, it could be possible I've seen such a mechanic somewhere. Eh, doubtful. Only game that comes to mind is North & South and that's just assumption based on pictures I've seen years ago.

Here's the thing. Each of these ideas were likely great ideas on paper but somehow fizzled into nothingness upon translation. For example, the enormous cast. There's a reason why so many RPG's stick with so few playable characters. Never mind the confusion trying to keep track of so many characters, when there's as many characters as there is here, approximately eighty I believe, it's easy to loose connection with even a single additional character. Each one becomes nothing more than a face in the crowd. This is especially true in Suikoden since there's really no sense of specialization. Sure, different characters have different stats - some builds resembling strongmen while others resemble intellectual magic users, but honestly, they all feel fairly comparable with each other. It's just one big army of Joe Sixpacks.

Additionally, the multitude of character choices pushes the gameplay towards grinding if you wish to mix up the war party as often as possible, or general ease of play as you stick with the same relative six characters throughout the entire game. Why would I dare swap out my powerhouses for some new chum who can't even swing a sword to save his life? Oh! Their levels are proportionally set to give them a fighting chance upon recruitment. Erm...nope. They're still pretty useless. At least with Suikoden's wacky experience system it's relatively easy to level everyone up as your main character faces well over a hundred battles climbing a mere three points a round. Ugh.

Feeling a lack of empathy towards any of these numskulls or suffering battle after battle in hopes to boost any extra lackey's experience in the off chance I choose to use a third or fourth stringer - I'm sure Sarah's ability to do the laundry out on the battlefield will come in handy - is the least of my concerns over the player roster. What really irks me is we're offered some eighty different characters to choose from yet time and time again, the game force feeds certain characters down our throat at every turn. Worse still, at least half the party is always dictated by the game's whims. Why are there so many characters when I can only choose a third of my party? In the beginning of the game, I get it: Pahn, Cleo, Gremio, and Viktor are always at my side. As the game progresses, however, it becomes more of a nuisance, especially since my apathy towards all of these faceless assholes leaves a sour taste in my mouth when it comes to each principle character's story arc.

I don't know if the story as a whole is weak or it's just my frustration with the character system, but I felt no sympathy for anyone and I could care less where their convictions lie. Wait. What was Flik's objective on this particular leg of the journey? Why am I having to suffer Viktor's glass cannon equivalence yet again? Glass cannon isn't even a worthy epithet. His skill level is so piss-poor that he misses 90% of the time, yet I'm forced to drag his useless corpse around with me everywhere I go because other than two minor, inconsequential parts of the game, I can't choose a worthy party from the vast assemblage of playable characters on offer. What a stupid, frustrating application of what could have been a great mechanic - well, a decent mechanic. It's still way too many characters no matter how you try to pitch it.

Regarding the home base, there's actually little to complain about. It's likely the one feature for which I would tout this game. I wish there could have been a little customization, at least other than placing a few minor antiques in the bath house, but as a whole, it accomplishes its goal illustrating the continual growth of the Liberation Army. I feel obligated to remark on yet more of my own idiocy at this point, though I'm confident I can place a good bit of blame on the game itself. I was unaware there was a second opening on the west end of the first floor until the very end of the game. Before facing off against Barbarossa, I embarked on a final whirlwind tour of the world to find the last few potential recruits as well as a window setting that I somehow missed early on. Only, I had no idea what the window settings were for, or the sound settings for that matter. I had a good idea what they were for, but couldn't for the life of me figure out how to use them. I was both dumbstruck and horrified at my own ineptitude to make sense of the visual clues that indeed there's a door leading to the outside world. For the longest time I was wondering where half my recruits scuttled off to. Stupidly, I assumed their absence was due to some sort of sprite or hardware limitation, although we're dealing with the PlayStation, so.... Seriously, I had to walk away from the game to collect myself after I realized that splotch of white was a doorway.

That just leaves the mass combat as far as Suikoden's innovations. Like I said, I expected a pretty cheesy system. It's not bad, and is better than I expected, but it feels shoehorned into the game as though it were an afterthought to help enhance...I don't know, the story? The scenarios play way too easily. Unless you're a moron, you can't lose. Worse yet, while permanent character death is possible during mass combat, you almost have to strive for such an outcome in order for it to occur. Overall, strategy is minimal at best. Again, much like they mucked up the entire player roster, they mucked up the mass combat mini game. Is there any real reason for it? I found myself using the same three or four sets of cards every mass combat scenario and winning with flying colors. It's just more gaming bewilderment. Why couldn't the cards be shuffled every battle? Something to force some actual planning, or that matter, play. I'm glad they tried and that the system is there, but sadly, it falls flat.

There is one other element that rubbed me the wrong way and I already briefly touched on it. Experience. The experience system in this game is flat out bonkers. I can't make heads or tails of it. It's a flat system of a thousand points, but with each new level, the points gained after battle are lessened to simulate typical experience charts that call for larger goals. In theory, that's fine, and for the most part it works. However, mixed parties - having both high and low level characters - show how ridiculous the system truly is. You can have a party with level 50+ characters and a character who's only level 10. Within three or four rounds, he's level 50+ as well, only a few points off the others while they each gained fifteen points tops; if they're lucky. There's some black magic math going on here. I can accept that these low level bums will skyrocket through the levels, but how are they within striking distance of these other hard working Joes who have been putting in overtime since the very beginning? It makes no sense. And thanks to this mathematical mystery, grinding becomes more of an awkward straying from the beaten path. Thankfully, grinding plays a relatively low key role, if any until a couple spots late in the game, namely Floating Fortress Shasarazade - I swear there's three official spellings of that monstrosity within the game's text.

It must be another case where I'm just missing the obvious. Or perhaps it's further proof that the generally praised need not apply in my house. Shenmue can play testament to that. In the beginning, I had high hopes for Suikoden. True, it was just more of the same, but there was enough to make it stand out ever so slightly. Add the three unique mechanics of impressive roster, ever-growing home base, and mass combat, and it's no wonder the game is celebrated. But it's riddled with shortcomings, confusing and/or poorly implemented mechanics, and is simply boring. The story, while attempting to be epic in nature, feels so elementary. I neither felt concern nor attachment towards character or story. Claims of depth were mere scams trying to cover up the fact that the game is so one-dimensional. But then, I suppose there's a light at the end of the tunnel. After all, the game kept my attention long enough to keep going. I'll be damned if I know what to attribute that to. Perhaps its own unique charm was enough to win me over for the time being. But it wasn't enough to make me a believer. Although, songs like Peaceful People (personal favorite which often found me diverting my goals; needlessly visiting Antei for the umpteenth time for some aural enjoyment) and Gorgeous Scarleticia made me a believer in the game's fantastic soundtrack. In fact, I could easily manufacture a laundry list of gorgeous tunes from the game's soundtrack.

Nano-Rant:

Ah! But  I'm yet to retire from throwing jeers at this game. While I've touched up on various infractions and miscues, I still haven't  nailed down the defining failing in the game's architecture. Choice, or I should say the lack thereof. But wait. There is choice. I see it nearly every time there's interaction between characters. Not right now Mathiu, I have other pressing matters. I said not right now. I understand you believe it's in our best interest to act, but I must see to other affairs while I have the chance and I'm not overridden on my personal character choice. Oh my god, Mathiu, shut the fuck up! This isn't choice; it's just a grand illusion to trick us into believing there's far more depth in the game than there really is. Konami doesn't want us to see that they gave us nothing more than a shallow, linear imitation of a game worthy of the name RPG. If my ability to choose the outcome of a given situation is moot because you're just going to hound me until I make the appropriate decision, remove the mechanic. It brings nothing to the table other than rash irritation. It gives the game an overall phony atmosphere and discredits the story on multiple occasions - perhaps not so much with my example or any of Mathiu's bids for strategy, but with many of the casual encounters throughout the world. What should be a tool to help enliven the backdrop of the game ends up making it feel far more mechanical than some of the earliest and most linear RPG's out there. Point is, don't take your players for fools. We can see through your thinly veiled tricks.

There's so much more I would have liked to discuss such as the seemingly unbalanced difficulty progression, yet another trivial monetary system - need I be surprised, or the odd death experience glitch, but I've hit the major talking points and that's enough for me. Besides, I've yammered on for far too long as it is. But there is one last thing I must question. Perhaps I can sneak it into my rating and no one will be the wiser. Wait. Am I pulling my own thinly veiled tricks? Oh no!

Rating: 2.5 binoculars out of 5*

*What is the point of this item, and why do I have to use the second controller to use it when there's so many free buttons on the first controller? Useless.

Friday, August 8, 2014

XB1 - Guacamelee! Super Turbo Championship Edition

Haiku-Review:

¡Ser un Luchador!
Bust Chozo(s) and venture on,
Mr. Bawkbagawk

Additional Comments:

What an incredible game! It's been some time since a game has been so frustratingly agonizing yet so gripping and entertaining to play. VVVVVV maybe? Even during the most nail-biting, hair-pulling moments of gaming pain, I couldn't find the will to put the controller down. I had to try again and again...and again...and again - so was the case especially in a few particular trials in El Infierno.

Again, thanks to Games with Gold, I could trial Guacamelee!, which if it weren't for Microsoft's free games program, I wouldn't have even bothered with this game. Between the box art, the name, and the allusion to Capcom's tendency to add ludicrous taglines meant to represent a newer, fancier version of essentially the same exact game - I don't care what anyone says, no matter how many Hyper Alpha Championship Turbo EX Remixes they tack on, Street Fighter II is Street Fighter II - I envisioned it to be just another fighting game, a genre of which I've never been a fan. Even after looking at a few snapshots showcasing some of the platforming elements, I wasn't exactly sold on the idea. I still suspected it to be nothing more than a fighter, but perhaps with some large arenas that incorporated platforming like construction - similar to some of the larger stages in the Super Smash Bros. series. Eh, I am a fan of the Smash Bros. series, and that was enough incentive to further investigate Guacamelee!'s true experience.

Coming off of Dust: An Elysian Tail, I was pleased to see another game that followed suit: Metroidvania level design with emphasis on brawler or fighting game style combos. I find it interesting that it should pique my interest despite my general dislike for both Metroidvania gameplay and combo insistence. After playing Dust and now having finished Guacamelee!, and thoroughly enjoying both, I have to admit, I don't take issue with Metroidvania design. I thought I did, but really it's the inference that all Metroidvania games are half-assed replicas of either the Metroid or Castlevania series, both of which I've never liked. It's only natural that my bias towards both of those franchises would carry over to any game that would dare carry a design style steeped in the aforementioned games. Yet, unlike the originators that lent their namesakes to the so-called style of free-roaming platforming, Guacamelee! is actually a thrill to play. I know to most if not all gamers this reeks of blasphemy, but you know what? It's my opinion and frankly, I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks.

While Dust introduced me to the gaming excitement to be had from this unique brawler/platformer mashup, Guacamelee! took the idea and ran with it. Not only does Guacamelee! focus on diabolical platforming requiring some serious finger legerdemain at times, but it utilizes a proper combo system that feels completely natural even with all the platforming chicanery mixed in. Using combos, throws, and other means of fighting strategy actually had purpose. On the whole, the fighting system never felt clunky, forced, or unnecessarily prioritized. It remained a perfect balance to the equally important platforming even as the game swayed from one end of the spectrum to the other either through closed arenas overflowing with a variety of skeletal builds to perilous autoscrolling deathtraps relying on quick reactions. This was best emphasized via El Infierno's numerous trials - equal parts fighting challenges and platforming challenges.

Coming from a gaming background where platforming has always reigned king, I found the platforming challenges for the most part, easy. Dodging the moving thorns for some reason got the better of me far more than it should have, especially considering I managed gold within two tries in Hard Mode. But the real kicker was the stupid chicken assist challenge. I hated that challenge. Surprisingly, it wasn't one of my more difficult challenges to accomplish, though still nasty, but I think it's the one that infuriated me the most. On the fighting side, I struggled with a number of challenges. It took me a good dozen or so times to properly memorize the patterns and best judge what moves should be used when for best effect. The no throws room proved to be my most difficult challenge. The room itself was fair and it was easy enough to make it through to the end without taking a hit to ensure I maximized my hit combo as much as possible, but I just couldn't muster the proper techniques to acquire 130 hits. Unlike all of the other rooms, where you were offered a margin of error, the no throws room offered no margin of error. In fact, without using some sneaky course of action, the room had a negative margin of error. If only gold required a 120 hit combo like the other two specialized fight rooms instead of the curiously amplified amount. I probably ran through that room a good 50 times or so before I started resorting to some really out of the box strategies. But after doing so, I think I managed somewhere in the vicinity of 150-160? Holy guacamole!

But that's part of the magic of Guacamelee!. Any other game, and I'd likely leave the room in frustration. It reminds me of a couple of the special challenges on VVVVVV. Despite my total adulation for the game, I just couldn't bring myself to playthrough the no death challenge for the nth time or other such nonsense. Currently, I'm struggling with exactly that in Limbo. But here, in Guacamelee!, the gameplay excited me, even after the 50th time attempting the no throws room and escaping with a mere 129 hit combo on a damage free run. What the hell am I missing? Yes, there was some controller rage, but the game had me by its claws. No matter how frustrating, I tasted victory; knew I could best it, and enjoyed every single second of it.

Guacamelee! refuses to let up. It's out to challenge the player tooth and nail. Normal Mode's not exactly a walk in the park, but my god, Hard Mode really pushes the boundaries on some of the closed arenas. I could no longer half-ass my fighting expertise. It was time to get serious on precise combo usage and the dexterity required by some of the platforming areas definitely helped in that regard. Speaking of platforming dexterity, the top of the Tule Tree may very well take top honors for high agility demands. In a way, I was saddened I picked up my first sphere care of the Tule Tree as I expected the other entrances to Chac Mool to be all the more difficult, if not at least equal in sheer gaming frustration. I suppose I can at least commend the variety of trials meant to be overcome, but goddamn, Tule Tree's ordeal is exactly that: an ordeal.

The platforming is what really makes this game shine though. Sure, some of the platforming elements are basic or even nonexistent at times, but overall, it's challenging and makes terrific use of all your skills as hand. Now, I'm well aware the game, much like Dust alludes to its spiritual hero, Castlevania, time and time again, alludes to its own spiritual hero, Metroid - right down to acquiring new powers from old Chozo statues. Funny, I don't recall the Chozo ever being a part of Mesoamerican folklore. Must of missed that one. Then again, I was unfamiliar with Chac Mool's real life sculpture counterpart - at least by name - so I suppose it's only possible Metroid has its roots in ancient Olmec tradition. Anyway, back on point, what impresses most me about the platforming is how well it integrates every possible ability at any given moment. In a way, it reminds me of The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, in that it never takes a single ability for granted. Everything has a purpose and the game sees to it that each ability is put to use seamlessly. Not only that, much like the fighting, the addition of each ability progresses comfortably enough so that the player never feels overwhelmed. On occasion, I found myself fumbling with controls, but it was more out of sudden lapse of concentration or attempting to overcome an obstacle in a way counter to its intended solution. I'm sure some may question why I'd even do that to begin with, but it typically happened out of exploration on my quest to 100% each area.

If there's anything I'd consider a fault, it'd probably be the default audio mix. But with the option to set the audio to your liking, it's a moot point. Still, why does the default setting have the sound effects so deafeningly loud compared to the background music? While I could hear short musical interludes fade in and out every now and then, it does make me wonder if there was much of a soundtrack at all. Often times, the sound effects were so loud that I had the TV set to low volume and as a result couldn't hear much as far as background ambience. Hmm, perhaps I should have taken advantage of those audio settings. Interesting useless fact about me: I try and fiddle with optional settings as little as possible in pretty much any game I play. Don't know why - just an odd little quirk of mine. Seems to have soured my overall listening experience with Guacamelee! though.

Unfortunately, I've never played the original Guacamelee! or even Guacamelee! Gold Edition, so I don't have first hand knowledge of what sort of updates are brought to the table. For all I know, DrinkBox followed Capcom's lead and pointlessly affixed additional hyped-up taglines into tricking consumers that Super Turbo Championship Edition is a whole new game. Although, from what little I've read online, it's not a whole new game, but did overhaul story, bosses, optional elements and the like. So whether it's an improvement or not, I cannot say, but honestly, I don't care because this game brought it as is. Perhaps one day I'll have a chance to play the original version and either feel disenchanted with it or perhaps unnecessary "fixes" performed by STCE, but somehow, I doubt it either way. Based on my experience with this game, all I can say is DrinkBox knows what the hell they're doing and I look forward to seeing more work from them. Additionally, while I thank Games with Gold for allowing me a free chance to play this game, looking back on it and seeing how much fun it exuded, I would have gladly paid for the game.

Rating: 5 DerpDerps out of 5

Monday, August 4, 2014

Flash - Hood Episode 1

Haiku-Review:

quick game recipe:
one part rabbit, one part witch;
drunks and foul language

Additional Comments:

Flash games have never been my cup of tea, as it's rare to find a fully fleshed game that has inherent play value. As such, my experiences with Flash games are few and far between, usually trying out bizarre titles recommended by friends for a mere 30 seconds and walking away colored unimpressed. Even those Flash titles I've decided to slog through for the sake of this blog, while unique and beholden of a certain charm, be it Super Press Space to Win's ironic spin on simplicity or Don't Shit Your Pant's reliance on crude humor and stupidity, rarely hold a candle to "true" gaming experiences. But then there's often brilliance mired among all the mediocrity such as VVVVVV which started its life in the Flash medium. To this day, it's still one of my all-time favorite games and to think it came from such humble roots. For this reason, I'd say it's worth perusing the usual Flash choke holds such as Kongregate or Newgrounds; only the chance of finding that one game worthy of play among all the undesirables is slim to none. Of course, there's more than enough routes to lead you towards the well praised: rating systems, reviews etc., but I rarely ever buy into any of that hogwash as my particular tastes never quite coincide with mainstream thinking - Shenmue being a prime example. Apart from a few friendly recommendations, I tend to leave my Flash experiences to fate - serendipitous finds sparked by certain qualities that catch my eye while casually rummaging through the web with zero intention of seeking out the next great game to marvel over.

I came across Hood after scouring the depths of YouTube listening to obscure video game tracks. Eventually, I came across Hood's Music Box Waltz which instantly grabbed my attention with its macabre, almost lullaby like ambiance. This one tune intrigued me enough to seek out from whence it came - a serial point and click Flash game spread out over several episodes.

Ooh...the whole episodes structure fettered my interest in the game immediately. I've never been big on singular stories broken down into what can rightfully be considered half a game, or even less in this case. Breaking a game into episodes feels like nothing more than a cheap marketing tool. It artificially accentuates story by promoting unnatural suspense. In Hood's case, this seems unnecessary since it appears it may have a story that can stand on its own merits. My belief in this is somewhat biased by the point and click genre in general since story usually plays a major role compared to other games types. Why the need to further inflate it? In contrast, emphasis on gameplay feels slightly diminished as pacing is broken. It becomes somewhat of an afterthought as game immersion loses out to a mechanic devised solely to drive curious readers. In that respect, the game takes on more of a visual novel approach, though it's not readily apparent until you reach the ending.

Based on the existence of this commentary, it's obvious my initial interest was enough to warrant a playthrough despite any reservations I may have had. What little story there is so far is indeed enthralling, but upon reaching the episode's end, everything becomes unraveled. Up until that point, I found the game enjoyable. The play itself is by no means amazing. In fact, it feels rather lackluster for point and click standards, but everything that framed it compelled me enough to push forward. The gameplay was merely a means to an end as I strove to learn more about the strange mythos of Hood and the sorrowful fate of the girl. All the while, I found myself thoroughly captivated by the ominous mood enriching the game world which was cleverly aided by a welcomed film reel presentation utilizing cue marks at set intervals. However, come the end of the episode, it was all for naught. Never have I felt so dejected.

Relying on suspense to reel the player in; wanting more, Hood attempts to make the episode format work by pushing even the tiniest grains of tension into off-putting cliffhangers. Except, the end of Episode 1 is barely worthy of the charge. The episode's end felt so unnatural - so out of left field. I'll concede that the developer succeeded in the sense that he left us wanting more - the episode's minimal length can attest to that, but I won't concede that he left me wanting more. The ending blindsided me, leaving me so aghast that any and all investment in the game took a sudden nosedive. In my opinion, the episode structure backfires because the episode is too short. Never mind the minimal gameplay, which I'll get to in a moment, but I was presented with barely enough material to tide my interest. There was enough material to slowly mold an unusual folklore, but not enough to warrant a 'to be continued' without thinking its all gone to waste. I found myself apathetic towards what may lay ahead for the hunter and the girl because I wasn't given enough time to immerse myself into the story proper and/or care about their endeavors.

Granted, Hood is a Flash title, and limited game time can and should be expected, so it seems wrong to harp on that. However, after finishing the episode, my reflection on the game was akin to that of Shenmue's first disc. What exactly did I accomplish? I sobered up some idiot weather mage. That's it! That alone makes we leery of continuing on with the series. Is each episode going to consist of nothing more than a single, solitary task? Ok, there's more to the episode than just sobering up some inebriated buffoon, but if I were to outline the major talking points, it doesn't really feel like it.

If all of Hood's episodes could be played as a singular game, I'd likely be fussing over stupid, meaningless flaws. I could continue on my merry way, enjoying the game properly. Allowing for a more natural flow for both the story and gameplay would likely mask some of the failings that are much more apparent when the game is broken down into short ten to fifteen minute segments. And most importantly, I wouldn't feel swindled by interacting with next to nothing despite fancying itself an opening story arc. Somehow, I felt as though I accomplished less than I did in Myst and there's literally nothing going on in that game. But alas, it's all wishful thinking and instead, the developer offered me an out a mere ten minutes in.

Failings may be too strong a word, as the gameplay, while lacking compared to other point and click titles, is intuitive enough to keep the player from pulling their hair out over stupid item puzzles. There are a couple moments where I think the background could have benefited from a few minor graphical tweaks in regards to item finds, but otherwise, the "puzzles" were fairly straightforward and equally polished. I'd like to have seen better use made of the inventory, but perhaps that's down to the episode itself. It may even be possible I overlooked something, though I'm certain I clicked every possible graphical representation boasted within the game in every possible combination. I'm disheartened I couldn't finagle the locked door with the knife, but again, product of the episode's parameters or simply overlooking something.

I can't help but feel that I'm unfairly criticizing Hood because of my own preoccupations with some asinine storytelling device superseding the overall experience. But the developer made a choice to present the game in episodes. Whether that was a conscious choice or one made out of necessity thanks to Flash, it completely ruined the game for me. Only because he succeeded so well in mood, I'm willing to move forward with the series, or at least convince myself of this belief. Then again, I feel so apathetic towards the story after such an underwhelming attempt to bait my continued interest and such disdain towards the game's now seemingly jerky progression I feel I can only feign that interest to forge ahead for so long. I just don't see the point. As long as every episode is an ineffectual little tease like the first, I can only feel indifference towards it all. I'm well aware that the game's been out for a while and as such, four episodes are currently playable if I'm not mistaken. Is that all the episodes? That same indifference prevents me from willingly researching the facts. It would be as easy as a few quick mouse clicks to call up the next episode, but...well, my ramblings have circled and the point is made.

Perhaps... Perhaps I'll give the second one a go; to at least see if there's any improvement. Ah! But perhaps that was his plan all along. A crafty one, he is.

Rating: 2 disgustingly comfy chairs out of 5