PS2 - Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance II

Haiku-Review:

"The Oceanic
Urn is an aquamarine-
studded golden urn."
                         -Jherek

Additional Comments:

I can't exactly pinpoint the reasoning, but that one line spoken by Jherek has stuck with me more than any other line, or heck, anything from the entire game.  It just sounds so ridiculous - so matter a fact, so blatant. Yet his descriptions of the other artifacts never sounded so captivating; rather dull and boring. I'd rather kick my feet through the dust in hopeless lethargy than quest for the Orb of Thunder, Jade Octahedron, or Brazier of Eternal Flame, but speak the legends of the Oceanic Urn....

Anyway-

Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance II is yet another title that's been on my backlog of games started and then pushed under the rug for several years. Unlike several games on that list, Dark Alliance II's shelving was both voluntary and legitimate. One of the first games I decided to tackle during Beat All Game's infancy, due to personal enjoyment, and well, I had never beaten the game before, though I came damn close. However, shortly after plowing through Easy and about a third of Normal, I finally came across a copy of the first game, Dark Alliance. It was only natural I play the games in order, as I try to do as best I can, when I can. The original plan was to jump into the sequel once Dark Alliance was done, but unfortunately for the series, the lovable Katamari series beguiled me with it's overtly quirky charm. And so the years rolled on. But as my PS2 collection grows, and I find myself antsy to play some new and truly intriguing titles that have found their way into my hands, I feel I should dust off some of the lingering unfinished titles first.

As a long time fan of Dungeons & Dragons, I was always fascinated by D&D licensed games, yet was far too skeptical about their overall fun factor. Knowing the world of D&D to be enshrouded by cheesy, cliché drivel, I was overpowered with the idea that all D&D related games would be a horrible programming mess and as such avoided them at all costs. I can't exactly describe what I expected these games to be, other than hours of butthurt and fantasy abortions, but I think Advance Dungeons & Dragons: Heroes of the Lance for the NES sums up my original uneducated guess as to what these games were all about.

Some time in early 2005, I found myself searching for a new game - something in either the RPG or hack n' slash category. Sadly, I found myself distanced from video games in general and no longer knew what the latest and greatest titles were; what was recommended and/or favored. A still lingering feeling of D&D equals gaming misery filled my thoughts, but for $20? Fuck it, let's give it a shot!

Deeply enthralled and amazed by the attention to detail regarding the Realms, its monsters and locales, I spent the next several nights killing baddies, retrieving artifacts and exploring extra-planar locations. I think my trips into the planes of Air, Earth, Fire and Water floored me more than anything despite finding the four areas to be rather lacking compared to other areas of the game. Still, I'm exploring the elemental planes! Are you shitting me? Why have I been so afraid to dive into a D&D title all these years? Is this what I've been missing? But then (Oh no! Spoilers ahead!), Randalla Brasshorn. What a bitch. She brought the game to a screeching halt. And so it stayed, unfinished, for so many years.

Thanks to the advent of Beat All Games, I finally returned to the game and finished it. Due to the rather long gap between finishing Easy and finishing the rest of the game, I no longer have any recollection of just how easy Easy is, so there's not much to say there. However, unlike the first game where Hard and Extreme felt like cake walks once certain items were acquired, Dark Alliance II really turned up the wick when it came to difficulty. In many respects, I enjoyed this - it no longer belittled the idea of difficulty. But in others, I found the way difficulty was handled to be frustrating and highly unbalanced. Extreme was by far the most unbalanced. The progression of difficulty was neither linear nor exponential but instead some sort of bizarre jagged line like the output from a seismic graph. Easy levels would be followed by even easier levels, only to be followed by hellish attempts at pure survival tactics, levels interspersed with one-hit magnates and glass tanks; again with the cakewalks through gumdrop lane, and merciless bouts of tactical merry-go-rounds as seen in the first game. What's worse is the unbalancing was no better than a blind guess as to what monsters would deliver pure evil compared to those who are merely an inconvenience - not so much in the idea that monster x should be more powerful than monster y, but based on the lesser difficulties and knowing what levels were combat hotspots, certain monsters seemed to diverge from their initial comparative difficulties. A few particular creatures of note who seemed to err on the side of weakness are trolls, bullywugs and ettins. I don't know. Maybe based on who I was using and perhaps knowing their strategies bent my perception, but then again certain creatures, namely those weird jellyfish/octopus things in the Plane of Water jumped through the roof in regards to difficulty. Seriously, what are those things? I'm pretty well versed on D&D creatures, but don't recollect seeing anything comparable in any of the Monstrous Compendiums. I'd wager they're some sort of elemental, but seems unlikely. Eh...

I think difficulty could have been better handled via populations instead of buffing all the monsters with damage multipliers. I'm not even sure if HP, AC and/or THAC0 was adjusted on anything. Though it was certainly apparent damage was upgraded by leaps and bounds. Outside of platformers, one-hit kills are completely uncalled for and the last few areas seem to run rampant with monsters possessing such power. Of course, if I bothered to use the workshop, I'm sure Extreme's difficulty would be akin to Extreme mode in the original game: a breeze. But as I've said before, in games that offer oodles of weaponry as treasure, including those with desirable magical abilities, I always forgo the shopping experience in favor of self-imposed challenges. Without spending a fortune that even Scooge McDuck would envy enchanting some +24 Ring of Fire or other such nonsense, you can still acquire some pretty amazing items throughout the game, especially in Extreme mode.

Interestingly, I attempted a few enchantments as I found my back against the wall once again when it came to Randalla à la Extreme. None of them worked. None of them and I tried a variety of weapons, armor, and rings. I easily dropped a cool half a mil trying out a variety of magical items. In the end, I retained my millions and defeated her with my original set of weapons - using stupid 'here we go round the mulberry bush' tactics. Dumb! If there's any consolation, it's that I finally remembered how she managed to grief me so bad back in 2005. I was wondering why I struggled with her so much as I found her to be just another easy boss up through Hard mode. Extreme jogged my memory and nearly defeated completion. Mordoc nearly accomplished the same feat though I was on to his circular stupidity after a couple rounds resulting in a hero's death. Fortunately, out of all the monsters in game, these two bosses were the only creatures that seemed to befall this irritating lack of combat intelligence that dominated the original Dark Alliance, and it only popped up in Extreme.

In comparison to the first title, there's obvious pros and cons with Dark Alliance II. The inclusion of a world map is greatly appreciated as it helps put a 'name to the face' if you will of the Western Heartlands, despite my deep-rooted knowledge of the area to begin with. It creates further interest in the locales and helps drive the story, even if the map interaction is negligible.

Other benefits include the workshop function, albeit I've never used it outside of the varying experiments surrounding my battle against Randalla. However, I see the merit in having it. One such benefit is reducing the likelihood of powerful magical items appearing as randomized treasure. Sure, they're still present, but not like the first game where you could be gifted a...what sort of preposterous item did I list? Oh yea, a Flaming Burst Adamantine Long Sword of Wounding +5. You'll be lucky to pluck up a +3 anything among the forgotten hordes of treasures littered across the lands here. It's a step in the right direction, and for that, I'm grateful. I know it sounds ridiculous to deride the idea of loot in any form, but it belittles the balance between in-game entrepreneurship, especially in regards to wide-eyed dwarven smiths running fanciful magic workshops, and free loot. There's a problem when every cache equates to a dragon's horde. Ok, maybe that's over-exaggeration, but at times, given the awards, this is what it feels like. Of course, particular treasure caches should hold great wonders, but not every instance within the game world. It makes you wonder, who's mass producing magical weapons and flooding the market to begin with?

One of the game's failings, however, is the way it begins to lose momentum as it progresses. The first chapter is wrought with thoroughly fleshed out ideas and dungeons in comparison to the latter half of the game. While the second chapter holds its own just fine, though it doesn't quite carry the complexity of intricately linked dungeon systems found in the preceding chapter, it's worlds ahead of the weak planar offerings found in the third. Even the excitement of monster variety seemed to dwindle, and compared to the first game, the whole database of monsters felt lackluster at best. Don't get me wrong, when I first played this game in 2005, I was floored to see the great denizens of Toril come to life. However, after playing the first game where such interesting creatures such as displacer beasts or a dreaded beholder dwell, some of the newly recruited beasts garner nothing better than bored yawns - troglodytes anyone? On the other side of the coin, I prized the bullywug's inclusion. Come on, bipedal frogs? They're just so...goofy. Besides, where else can you get some proper names utilizing a barrage of 'b's and 'p's? Ah! My mind now wanders to that of Bubblegloop Swamp.

As far as music goes; much like the first one, it's mostly a lot of atmospherics and the music that does exist is nothing special to speak of. They work in the context provided, but there's nothing in there that I'll find myself casually humming. Although, the track I pointed out from the first title made a return appearance and I still have that stupid little melody stuck in my head along with Kip's ode to technology. Meh.

Nano-Rant:

Name be damned, I actually have a couple issues, though one's on the lighthearted side, pulling jabs at a rather comedic aspect that's notably present in a lot of games but really seems to take center stage here. The other point, well, it was unfortunately one of my initial arguments against the design of the first game too.

1: Laughable Architecture
Most, if not all, games are meant to be digested with a grain of salt - their design at least. Out there in the gaming world is a multitude of games where reality as we know it is bent beyond reason and we are expected to suspend all belief. I admit, in recent years, this isn't so much the reality of game design anymore. However, in Dark Alliance II, you really need to let loose of any preconceived notions of what may pass for believable architecture. Both Bloodmire manor and Firewind manor are absurd in their design. The impossibility alone is enough to spark an endless tirade of WTF's, but then you start thinking about the actual floorplan. What sort of maniac designed these buildings? Perhaps Bloodmire manor is really the Winchester Mystery House in disguise. Hmm, now that I think of it, the maddening labyrinthine design isn't so far-fetched.

2: Superfluous Accolades
Once again, a game that offers awards after everything is said and done in hopes to prolong the game's lifespan in the form of Artemis Entreri. First off, and I'm not sure if it's sad to admit or in my best interest to lack this knowledge, but I don't know who Artemis is. But that's besides the point. Much like the first game, by the time I unlocked this secret character, I've completely burned myself out on the game and have zero desire to return. Frankly, that sucks because I'd like to see what Artemis is on about, but there you have it, much like Drizzt in the first game, although at least they afforded the ability to play as Drizzt during the gauntlet mode. I hate when games do this because it makes the replayability feel forced. Replayability should come natural based on the actual fun of the game. For instance, one thing I liked about Dark Alliance II over the original is that it offered five characters instead of three to not only broaden the player's options but to enhance replayability. Unfortunately, I had to forego two of the five characters: Vhaidra and Borador, as I had no intention to repeat any of the difficulties just to give either of them a go. But after trudging through the tedium of extreme mode, yea I suppose a worthy award is warranted, but I've also lost all interest in the game now...so what's the point? Not hating, still love the game - just properly annoyed.

Rating: 4.5 Oceanic Urns, that is to say, aquamarine-studded golden urns out of 5

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

PS2 - Dark Cloud

Haiku-Review:

my haiku, ruined
by an extensive gauntlet
through excessiveness

Additional Comments:

I've learned something during my six month absence from Beat All Games: the desire to see a game through to the absolute end can often ultimately lead to a far different perception of said game than was originally imagined, and not necessarily in a favorable light. Sadly, one of my favorite franchises from the PS2 era led me to this conclusion. Damn my desire to explore every nook and cranny, locate every object, and experience everything a game has to offer. If it wasn't for my OCD tendencies to 100% everything, this post would likely be singing praises - not to mention, would have been posted some six months ago. Instead, I'm going to bludgeon Level 5's masterpiece to death. (Worthy note: it's the above statement that's caused me to loathe giant, open-world sandbox games, despite loving the concept of them, and the main reason why I've yet to complete any current gen game. Add DLC to the pot and it's a whole world of frustrated incompleteness.)

But before I prepare my writ of defamation, I'll take a step back, nearly eight to ten months back, and attempt to recall what I do like about this game - that is if I can remember any of it, because by the end everything on my Good list was savagely crossed out. It's funny. I know I genuinely enjoyed the game, at least up through the beginnings of the Gallery of Time, but looking back - exactly what did I enjoy?

*thinks* (I can feel the pops and fizzles exploding from my brain over this quandary. Good grief...)

There's always been two big draws in the Dark Cloud franchise for me: randomized dungeons and city, er...village development, or in the case of Yellow Drops, a giant space robot. Two past heroes from Beat all Games: ToeJam & Earl and ActRaiser solidified my arguments for both of these features - although ActRaiser's simulation aspect was a bit weak. Dark Cloud improved the simulation aspect tremendously while executing randomized dungeons with near finesse...well, almost. A third element that's always intrigued me is the leveling of weapons as opposed to characters. I don't know why, but there's something far more alluring about packing elements and statistics into an inanimate object allowing me to have exponentially more firepower or magically enhanced melee madness - although I somehow suspect it has to do more with the imagery and nomenclature associated with said weapon. And finally, I just love the scenery and locales. I even found the dungeons to behold great beauty, even if they're overall pretty bland and repetitive. But for me, the Moon Sea especially left an endearing impression - yes, all fourteen craters worth.

Most importantly, thinking on when I first played the game way back in mid-to-late 2001, I was just enamored with it all: the look, the story, the gameplay, everything. I felt like I was playing something completely new. Even if the game was nothing more than a minimal hack n'slash action/adventure game, it didn't carry the persona of such. It was different. And at the time, the concept of freshness occluded what should have been glaring flaws. I was far too overwhelmed with awe to realize the game's laundry list of shortcomings. Unfortunately, the Ice Queen, La Saia, put an end to my Dark Cloud experience for nearly twelve years. If that bitch wasn't such a nightmare to defeat, I probably would have begun to unearth glimpses of a padded out excursion to the Dark Genie and beyond. Heck, I probably would have never moved on to Dark Cloud 2 at the time. Yikes! To think that my all time favorite PS2 game could potentially be a complete train wreck when and if I ever return to it. But to be perfectly honest, I did start feeling the apathetic game design somewhere in the depths of Moon Flower Palace and, surprise surprise, never finished the game. Kind of wish I did the same with the first one. True, being impeded by La Saia's near instantaneous death sorcery for so many years left me wanting more, but perhaps I should have accepted it as a black omen for what was to come.

Is it really that bad though? No. In fact, like I said, up through most of the Gallery of Time, I thoroughly enjoyed the game. However, the Gallery of Time began to wear out its welcome and the Dark Genie was a bit over the top - especially when you compare relative boss to dungeon difficulty - or heck, even boss to boss difficulty. Yes, it's the final boss, and as such should cause some hair-pulling, controller-throwing reactions, but when you consider how pathetically easy all the other bosses are, it sort of leaves you wondering. That's right, I said all of the other bosses, including that ice bitch, La Saia. Turns out she's one of those brutal bosses that unfortunately, or rather fortunately, has a massive weakness that can be exploited thanks to sprite/level design - sort of reminiscent of Dark Link in Zelda II. And then, while optional, you have the arduous trek through one hundred floors of uninspired architectural madness. But before I yammer on about how much of a game killer the Demon Shaft is, I want to first address some of the more essential gameplay elements.

While I love the concept of weapon leveling, I equally hate the idea that I have to play the game feeling far more empathetic towards material goods as opposed to characters. Dark Cloud places far too much value on weaponry and next to nothing on characters. It's such a bizarre mechanic to have to wrap your head around. In most games, a death typically equates to a great loss of work. Here, a death equates to a meager loss of funds...and that's about it. I suppose if you push deeper and deeper into a dungeon without returning to town, than a death might hold some meaning, but when the ability to return to a safe haven is so easy, why bother? Not only that, but there's so many items that help work against death plus an almost 90% chance that not just one, but two healing springs will be present in any given dungeon. The result: battle shit to the bitter end, I say. And if on the odd chance health is at a premium, there's more than enough chickens, bread, bananas, cheese, stand-in powders, and resurrection powders to see through even the most horrific battle.

Weapons, on the other hand.... Miscalculate a hit, run out of auto-repairs, or just ignore that annoying beep that's telling you, "Hey! You're favorite tool of destruction is about to bite the big one," and you're in a world of hurt, especially if it's your most powerful weapon. I reset the game on multiple occasions just because I misjudged my button presses and broke my weapon. On the other hand, the couple of times I died and didn't have any stand-in powder handy. What's my loss - about 2500 gold and all my characters have been healed. Fuck it, I'll take another death just for good measure. Maybe I'm just missing the point - that material goods far outweigh human life, or even that of a Neko, genie or moon rabbit. (Oh! Was that a spoiler? Too bad...)

In addition to the vast plethora of items to help make death seem like a thing of the past; as a segue into my next grievance, if one character drops, you've got between one to five more to carry on, depending on how far into the game you are. Thing is, outside of life support, the additional character's bring next to nothing to the table. Actually, I take that back. What I should have said is the game doesn't successfully make use of the extra characters. Their main function is to jump gaps or unlock doors. That's it! Add in the fact that only Toan can gather Atla and you quickly realize there's far too much needless character swapping going on. Eventually, at least in my experience, focus is only put on a single weapon on a single character, since weaponry is the most important aspect of the game, and voilà - I find myself tackling the entire game with just Ruby. To be honest, as a self-imposed limitation, I tackled each dungeon with differing characters to try and make them all feel useful, but once I reached the Demon Shaft, Ruby saw most of the action with Osmond a distant second. Ah! That brings up another interesting bit of information: the uselessness of melee weapons, especially in the Demon Shaft. After the Gallery of Time, both Toan and Goro would have been wise to just pack it in and return home to Norune and Matataki respectively. No matter how many Endurance gems you cram into a melee weapon, their natural fragility against everything dictates the superiority of ranged weaponry throughout the entire game. Yes, even Xiao and her slingshot of powerless pebbles proves more worthy than Toan's most formidable blades, and that's just pathetic.

But all in all, even with the above grievances, it's still an enjoyable game. Honestly, despite the flaws and the encroaching lazy design finally poking its head out in the Gallery of Time, I would still have been satisfied with the game upon its end. Sadly, I tackled the Demon Shaft and that's where everything immediately went south. It's not that it's hard - it's not. It's that it's fucking boring, padded unlike anything I've ever seen, and a complete waste of time when you consider that it brings absolutely nothing to the table. Yes, it's optional, and as such there's no real place for argument, but just because something's optional doesn't mean developers should pop something in that makes watching paint dry sound fun. It's the 200 lightning strike jumps all over again. The Demon Shaft is one of the main reasons it took me so long to finish this game - seriously, I beat the Dark Genie months ago. By the time I got to the last twenty floors, I just started chucking Poisonous Apples at everything. It wasn't worth my time anymore, and it sucks when a game crosses that threshold. And the icing on the cake, you may ask? Equating difficulty to infinitesimal amounts of hitpoints. That's not difficulty - that's fucking idiocy!!

Nano-Win:

I hate to end it all on such a sour disposition though. What's that? I've yet to discuss the soundtrack? One thing Level 5 nailed is the music. Right from the very beginning when you first hear the Main Theme kick in, through gems like Open Your Eyes (visiting Treant was always a high point just so I could hear that silky bass bend and I'd often go out of my way purposefully for that very reason), or the calming Daily Life, the soundtrack is just magical. Each and every one of the village themes are especially noteworthy, but the standouts have got to be Queens and Brownboo. And the dungeon themes are well crafted for each of their representative dungeons; A Sinking Ship being the quintessential example of mood. Overall, it's far too difficult to name only a few songs as the whole soundtrack is worthy of mention.

Nano-Rant:

Ok, I tried and I couldn't do it....

Fuck that stupid ass glitch that causes Jibubu to act like a total cheese-dick where he refuses to return home so I can give him the foundation! I have to wonder if the Sun Gem would have changed my opinions on Toan. We'll never know now, asshole!! And I certainly wasn't going to start over that late in the game because of a fucking glitch.

Rating: 3.5 Pointy Chestnuts out of 5*

*It was a tough call and I tried to place far less weight on certain "optional dungeons" than I probably should have while considering this game's fate, but then again those same "optional dungeons" seriously altered my perception of the entire game.

PS2 - Katamari Damacy

Haiku-Review:

I feel the cosmos -
touched by a constellation?
like that's possible

Additional Comments:

Where do I even begin? Katamari Damacy is undeniably worlds apart from anything that has come before it...or since for that matter. From the moment you lay eyes on the beautiful cover artwork depicting a pair of cows standing beneath a rainbow as a giant Katamari shouldering a stadium, Ferris wheel, sperm whale, some sort of ginormous psychedelic mushroom, and other loony devices looms in the distance, the quirky mystique that is Katamari Damacy immediately sets in, only to blossom once the disc is put into action. The colors, the characters, the story, the gameplay, the world - it's all so very...bizarre. But bizarre isn't exactly the term I'm looking for. There's more than enough weirdness going on out there in the world of video games, but there's something about Katamari Damacy that raises it to a whole new level of awe.

First off, I find Katamari Damacy a very difficult game to explain to people. It's one of those games, that despite its totally addictive tenure of brilliance and fun, there's just no way to express that thrill of play into words, especially when the gameplay is nothing more than rolling a ball, er...Katamari around and collecting everyday objects. Honestly, that sounds boring as hell no matter how hard you try to sell it. Collection games as a whole can be pretty trite in the fun department and it takes something truly special to make such a game stand out and survive more than a few short hours of gameplay, or heck even ten minutes of trial play. For me, collection games usually lose their charm fairly quick. A simple comparison can be made to a lot of the turn-based rpg's - they grow stale over time. But Katamari Damacy never befell that perilous rut; no matter how many times I had to run through Make the Moon just to pick up a couple of advertisements or Make Taurus to try and finally pick off the Holy Cow - how much I hated trying to bounce down into Seagull Park perfectly without either bouncing out or hitting one of those damn Cow-Men.

Explanation aside, even showcasing the game somehow leaves little to the imagination. Big deal! You roll a ball of glue around and snatch up everything in the world. I'll admit that when I first saw footage of the game, while it piqued my interest, I had my reservations. What sold me was everything that went along with it: the King of All Cosmos and his arrogant attitude, the nutty cutscenes about a couple of block-headed kids who appear to retain a certain intimacy with the heavens, and that oh so wonderful soundtrack. Are you kidding me!? The soundtrack is pure win!!! (But I'll get to that later...)

Once you get your hands on it though, it's something else entirely. The intro itself, for a lack of better words, is fucking orgasmic. Honestly, I've found that the best way to describe this game to anyone left in the dark, or perhaps the old naysayers, is to simply show them the intro. I somehow feel like I'm being subjected to an awkward Japanese reinterpretation of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. What the fuck is going on - or am I just stoned out of my mind!?

But seriously, the introduction is a genuine hook. And once you get into the game you just can't put it down. Unfortunately, the game is short and easy. But that's only a problem if you're just out to beat the game and move on in your tirade of video game conquests. However, if you wish to collect every object, every cousin, every named object, every gift - and heck, every country, it can take some time, especially, as I said, trying to track down some of those advertisements. Normally, I'd find this to be a fault in collection based games as a cheap way to elongate the playing time, but here it works and could almost be referenced as a godsend. Unlike most collection games, at least in my experience, Katamari Damacy forces you to look at each level in a sort of outside-the-box fashion as you try and track down the remaining objects needed to fill out your lists. This is because relative size versus world size can become an issue under certain circumstances. You have to be aware of when you need to pack some girth and where you need to be within a certain size limit. Sure, you can play the game blindly; rolling around collecting haphazardly, or you can play with some strategy as you try and tackle specific objects when necessary. Mostly, it's just fun to knock everyone about as you clumsily build your Katamari even while you're trying to buckle down and make goal.

Then you have your storylines. Between each level are some of the oddest cutscenes I've ever come across in a video game. First, there's the pompous King of all Cosmos. Whether he's carelessly throwing Royal Presents away, constantly chiding the Prince for his overall puny stature and general ineptness, or continually boasting his own efforts despite never lifting a finger except to inexplicably destroy the heavens, I have to say that the King of All Cosmos is a complete and total ass. Yet, he's strangely engaging and charismatic - like that's possible. Somehow I feel drawn to his words and find him a trusting lord of the skies.

Stacked on top of the Royal Family's dilemma is a secondary story following the Hoshino family. What a weird boat this lot is. I think I got an even bigger kick out of these scenes than I did with the Royal Family's. As the haiku says, "I feel it. I feel the cosmos," will stick with me for far too long. There's something wholly disturbing about hearing Michiru repeat this line time and time again. Maybe I'm just not in tune with the universe like she is. Sigh.

What really makes this game pop more than anything though has undoubtedly got to be the soundtrack. I don't think there's a single weak link in the chain. Every song is a total earworm; not the type you'd willingly suffer tinnitus to detract yourself from, but a series of catchy melodies that drive you to question how you ever got along without them. Seriously, the opening theme, Nana-Nan Katamari, has been stuck in my head for weeks now and I catch myself humming it all the time. No complaints here. Of course, there's incredible tracks like Katamari on the Rocks, Overture, Lonely Rolling Star, or Que Sera, Sera, but my absolute favorite(s) has to be Lovely Angel and its reconstructed form: Flavored Angel Gift. Given my soft spot for those beautifully wet synth sounds, I could listen to an endless loop of Lovely Angel for hours on end.

In the end, the game is completely out of this world, yes, but it is one of the best games I've gotten my hands on to date. It's very rare for a game to impress me so much that I want to jump immediately into its sequel. Well, Katamari Damacy managed just that. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to add We Love Katamari into my collection as of yet. A downer for sure, but I suspect I'll scratch the indelible itch soon enough.

Nano-Win:

Namco is right - the first tissue in a newly opened box of tissues is always two! What's up with that!?

Rating: 5 Smelly Cat's out of 5

PS2 - Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance

Haiku-Review:

Traitress of Swords? yes -
for your swordplay depresses;
a footnote speaks truth

Additional Comments:

I only just recently acquired this game, though I owned the sequel for a number of years now. In fact, the sequel was the first Dungeons & Dragons' franchised game I bought, though I must admit a bit reluctantly. I don't know, there was something about the idea of D&D being translated into a video game format that just didn't sit well with me. It gave off this stink of pomp and failing miserably, but I just had to give in and finally try something that bore TSR's logo - oh wait, Wizards of the Coast had already owned the name by this point. Hmm... well, fuck them! Still, it was D&D. I went into the game with a bad attitude, but at least tried to secure a sliver of hope that I didn't just throw $30 or $40 down the toilet (or however much it was at the time). Holy cow!! I was incredibly surprised. I didn't really know what to expect, and having long been a fan of the Gauntlet series, I was pleased to see an honest to goodness hack n' slash before my eyes. But despite my joy and long hours of play, I always felt like I was missing out on something. Whether it was the obvious amiss within the plot, or just the fact that I started with the sequel, I had always wanted to go back and play the original title. It only took me about ten years.

Like so many other titles that I haphazardly stumbled into mid-series, Dark Alliance gave me that sour tinge of regret that I didn't begin with the original. It's hard to take that step backwards, albeit only a baby step in this circumstance, but still. the Dark Alliance games could sort of be compared to the Mega Man series in that the sequel(s), while improving very minor game mechanics, accepted that the original formula worked and decided to adhere to it uncompromisingly. So for that, my guilt of precluding the first with the second wasn't near as bad as it was with say the Alex Kidd series, or how I suspect I'll feel should I finally ever get around to playing Paper Mario or Super Smash Bros.

First and foremost, what I really love about the Dark Alliance games is seeing the Monstrous Manual come to life before my eyes, especially here in the first game where we are met with a [spoiler] beholder [/spoiler] and lair of displacer beasts. Ok, the maneuverability of the displacer beast isn't exactly how I always envisioned it as per the description given in the Manual, but it's still great to see that creature in its new-found interactive goodness. And since we're on the topic of D&D compatibility, despite my having only the loosest knowledge of 3rd edition rules, I can fully appreciate and get a sense of the game's interpretation of said rules. Basically, it feels like while taking apparent liberties with the ruleset, it's still D&D at its core, and I applaud that. Of course games like Baldur's Gate for the PC or Dungeons & Dragons Online may hold an even firmer foot within the traditionalist rules of the game, but I think that the console Baldur's Gate games accomplished an equally favorable rendition. At least we're not dealing with the horrible, twisted abomination that Al-Qadim: The Genie's Curse puked out - 2nd edition rules my ass.

Aside from all the charming and wonderful D&D-ness of it all, the game just looks beautiful. The environments are stunning to behold. Maybe they don't hold a candle to the environments of something like Final Fantasy X, but there's still something enchanting about them. It could just be the idea that Toril's taking shape, morphing from a 2D drawing in a book to an interactive 3D dungeon crawl, even if it's limited to three unique locales. But beyond that, each stage is well designed, fitting, and never distracts. Certain stages could probably have gone back under the knife for further refinement, namely Adderspine Road East and The Rotting Bog. I don't know if it was the open, field-like design or the apparent stranglehold of enemy types, but both of these areas felt like end-of-project acquisitions quickly shoved in to help bolster overall game time. That's not to say they're bad, but in comparison to the rest of the game, I found them tedious, especially after four consecutive playthroughs.

As far as the AI, well it's a hack n' slash so admittedly I don't expect much. It does what it does, which is pretty much exactly what I expect. However there is one major gripe that I just cannot overlook. Everyone's inability to make precise turns with the exception of the umber hulk, the one creature you would suspect can't make a sharp radius turn, or that giant muck dwelling armadillo thing (I'm referring to the giant bulette of course) - I can take all that in stride. Or how about how every hurling enemy can predict your position with impressive accuracy no matter how erratic your movement - hey, I'm cool with that too, though a bit annoyed, but whatever. But come on! Are you fucking kidding me!? Eldrith is a pathetic joke! For the most part, the bosses are a bit of a pushover in this game, if you've got the patience, but Eldrith is comparable to a sewer rat. On my first playthrough, which was on Easy, I reached Eldrith with weary trepidation, mostly because the Halls of Remembrance spooked the hell out of me the first time I traversed them. There's just something about throwing a complete vacuum at a player without notice that can really trip them up. Anyway, I reach Eldrith and POW, killed by her incredibly deadly Inescapable Sword of Fury Over 9000. Talk about zero reaction time - sheesh. Changed my course of attack and...what? I killed Eldrith within 10 seconds. I can't even begin to explain how stunned I was. My jaw hung in awe throughout the end cutscene and staff roll, desperately hoping that there may actually be something else to it all. What's worse is that this scenario rang true on both Normal and Hard as well - 10-20 seconds into the final battle and Eldrith was kneeling on the ground pleading her case and asking forgiveness. What the hell, man? But then I faced off with Eldrith in Extreme mode. Holy shit! Snowblind does not have a grasp on difficulty scaling at all. It took me a good 20 to 30 deaths and upwards of 25 minutes to take her down; most of that time spent dancing around the proverbial maypole. Wander away from that maypole, even by just mere inches, and forget it. There's nothing stopping a 1000+ hp attack.

What's weird though is that Eldrith's battle was really the only time I felt like I could see a visible difference in difficulty. Ok, that's not entirely true. The Sunset Mountains, namely Wind's Walk, proved an ever increasing test every time I upped the difficulty level, but by the time I got to the Marsh of Chelimber and the Onyx Tower, it might as well have all been set on Easy. In fact, going through the Onyx Tower on Extreme was easier than when I went through it on Easy. Huh? On Extreme, I plowed through all five floors as if I was facing off with a bunch of sun-baked wicker men. And I can't even blame it on the store's charitable bounty since I only ever bought Recall potions

Yea, something that has annoyed me time and time again with newer generation RPG's and the like is the unreasonable blessings of charity. Handing out incredibly powerful weapons like Halloween candy can sap all the fun out of a game in an instant. Add stores that have the ability to sell weaponry that can outbid free weaponry in power right from the get go for prices that are easily attainable within a short period of time and neglect to properly scale enemy creatures as one levels and it becomes laughable. This is all a bit extreme to say the least, but it's still clearly visible here. Yes, the enemies are scaled in difficulty, but in my opinion, not enough. At least not enough to force me to buy upgraded weaponry. If my dinky little Keen Short Sword +3 can still easily take stuff out within three hits, what's the point? Like many games, I neglected to shop at the store for upgrades (a sort of self-imposed limiter that I set myself on my last attempt at Morrowind, hoping it would help pique my interest by at least slowing the rate of power accumulation - um, nope) to help instill a sense of difficulty that I felt was lacking. In the end, I'm still frantically racing around, as if I was on a cocaine high, with a hefty Flaming Burst Adamantine Long Sword of Wounding +5 laying waste to a mighty swathe of evildoers. Why is this, or others like it, so easy to obtain? Makes me wonder why any sort of monetary device is used. The above sword and over one million in gold amassed, I could probably conquer the better part of the Western Heartlands. Fuck the Harpers, I'm striking out on my own accord.

Despite any and all grievances - grievances such as a cliché D&D-esque plot (come on, it's D&D - if it's not cliché then there's a problem), here-we-go-round-the-mulberry-bush battle tactics, or the Harpers' Clearing House Sweepstakes Winner effect, it's still an absolute blast to play. And even with the problems, I still think it's fundamentally a good game at its core. Really, the biggest downer is Eldrith, and that one's tough to overlook. But everything else - pfft.... Forget about it. Even after four consecutive playthoughs, it held its own, and I was even tempted to perform a fifth just so I could give Drizzt a go, but alas, there was no real merit in doing so which brings me to...

Nano-Rant:

...games that decide to leave all the unlockables until the very end. Why? Why do games do this? This is a cheap, asinine way to extend a game's shelf life. If a game is inherently fun with obvious replay value, people are going to replay it - quite possibly endlessly. For me, SMB3 is a perfect example. I don't know how many times I've played that game through to the end, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's in the hundreds. Companies should not trick players into a game's possible replay value by offering unlockables at the very end of the game. Now I can understand having to complete the game to unlock Gauntlet mode and then having to complete Gauntlet Mode to unlock whatever that unlocks - Extreme mode if I remember correctly? But why can't I use Drizzt? Why dangle him in front of us like a carrot with Gauntlet mode if we can't acquire him until we've beaten Extreme? It's fucking retarded!! And given how Extreme mode works, I'm not going to jump right into it until I see which character might best suit the arduous journey ahead. By the time all is said and done, I've played the game four times. I've covered all my bases, and frankly the light's burnt out. And now Drizzt is nothing more than a waste of programming. Eh, wasn't that big of a loss anyway since you can't swap out his weaponry. Lame.

Nano-Nano-Rant (Er, Pico-Rant?), but it's not all fist shaking:

Damn you Slithery Swamp! Because of you I had Kip's Wedding Song stuck in my head for a month:

"...yes, I love technology,
but not as much as you, you see.
But I still love technology.
Always and forever."

Eh, the Elf Song Remix is pretty sweet, though.

Rating: 4 Pole-Dancin' Drow Queens out of 5

PS2 - The Bard's Tale

Haiku-Review:

drunks and trow sing songs-
skull, tree, moon, sun, chicken, lute:
portal puzzle beat

Additional Comments:

Straight up - I love this game! This is probably my favorite hack n'slash game out there. Now, I've never played any of the original C64/PC titles, but sometime in the late 90s I bought the NES port and played the heck out of it. It was one of the more innovative takes on a typical dungeon crawl/RPG that I had seen allowing for a wide variety of party setups with a large cast of characters. Needless to say, when I saw that there was a new Bard's Tale available for the PS2 sometime in 2004, I just had to have it.

Right from the get go, I enjoyed this game. From its unique summoning system to its deeply rooted Scots' environments to its wonderful voice-over cast (it's got Cary Elwes as the Bard - what else is there to say?), everything is just amazing in this game. The music alone is fantastic, presented as appropriately styled period pieces, such as The Nuckelavee. There's literally nothing for me to complain about regarding this game. Even the fact that you have to double-back through the first two towers after defeating the guardians has never bothered me since the concept has been worked into the storyline. Normally, I'd be annoyed with such a setup, but not here.

Another thing I love about this game is the constant battle of the cynics between the Bard and the Narrator: the Bard completely jaded on the whole notion of adventuring and princess-rescuing and the Narrator, well he's just generally annoyed with the Bard and all of his needless tomfoolery. Not only does their quibbling bring laughs, but it continually moves the story forward in a rather unorthodox fashion regarding the player or Bard's sudden newfound omniscience, or what would typically be the lack thereof in any other game. Either way, the Narrator's remarks, whether it be about the Bard or some random acquired token, are just priceless.

Ok, I do have one teeny-weeny, little issue with this game, but it's almost not even worth mentioning because it doesn't even effect the gameplay at all, but I must. Why the hell does it take so many donations to collect all the extras? Seven-hundred!? Are you kidding me!? And other than the artwork, they're not even worth it - trust me. I foolishly sat around for an hour or so making all seven-hundred donations so I could achieve the 100% completion benchmark I set myself. First off, you need ~70k silver (depending on your Charisma) to even manage all the required donations, and that's not an entirely easy feat in and of itself. The whole thing reminds me of the 200 consecutive jumps you need to achieve in the Thunder Plains in Final Fantasy X for Lulu's ultimate weapon (or whoever's weapon you get). It's as if the whole thing is just some sort of sick joke on the developer's part to see if they can con any idiots into trying it. Well, they got me. (jerks....)

Rating: 5 Bodbs out of 5