Haiku-Review:
O, silly rabbit,
don't you know Trix are for kids?
Oh! wait, wrong rabbit
Additional Comments:
Here's to hoping I can recall everything I wished to discuss, but considering how much time has elapsed since I finished this game, the details are anyone's guess.
Acquired through Games with Gold, I pounced on this game immediately since there are so few RPGs on the XBox One. There are a couple that came out over a year ago that piqued my interest but just never got around to picking them up. Certainly, making a game free makes it so much easier to nab a game. And though I initially had doubts based on a few pics, after a few quick minutes of in-game footage, I was sold. Old school RPGs seem to be such a rare thing outside of PCs. Why is that? When did console users choose to scorn turn-based RPGs other than the miserable pieces of crap starring the same old emotionally abused androgynous jerk-offs that Squaresoft keeps passing off as Final Fantasy?
Ok, Earthlock technically isn't an old school RPG, but it appears to have far more kinship with RPGs of yore than today's overblown trash. Despite separating itself from its ancestors, especially through the use of 3D maps and environments, Earthlock kept stirring memories of Chrono Trigger. Perhaps it was the same cliché tropes used over and over again, and true, those same old tropes become tiring, but at the same time, they help to invigorate the game through lapses of nostalgia. Unlike numerous other titles that attempt to reap the benefits of creating Chrono Trigger 2.0 or Final Fantasy IV reimagined, Earthlock distanced itself by creating an entirely alien environment. It still rehashed the same old kernels of the old world sowing the way for the new world through magical destruction - here the case being eternal day/eternal night and the same characteristic party sporting the same conventional traits saving the fate of the world by using the tools of the past. It's all been done before, and quite possibly, to death. But there was enough of a rift among the pedestrian RPG outline through imaginative details elsewhere in the world to make it feel different enough.
Unfortunately, Earthlock nearly shot itself in the foot right out of the gate. The beginning of the game felt laborious enough to warrant it undeserving of my time. The initial character we're introduced to, Ive, is a such an eye-rolling, self centered, twat that I nearly put the game down for good before I even made it five minutes in. Throughout the whole of the game, I loathed anytime a cutscene popped or I had to make use of her because of how despicably arrogant she was. Of course, she's the king's daughter, so what can you expect, but still, there's no getting around how off putting a character of this caliber is and having to deal with her the entire game absolutely killed much of the praise the game could have gotten. Ive is easily one of the worst characters I've come across in any game, equatable to Kara from Illusion of Gaia. Given the game's introduction, I had to seriously question the game's intentions when they wished me to rescue her from the wreckage. Fuck her! I don't want that contemptuous bitch in my party. It's moments like these that make me hanker for freedom of choice and lend me to admire many of today's western RPGs. I don't have to suffer through bullshit because of lack of choice. If the choice existed to help Ive or to simply walk away, I would have walked away in a second. Up until that point, or even throughout the rest of the game, there was never a moment that nudged me into accepting her despite her personality deficiencies. And it's hard to invest oneself into a game that has such a disagreeable character. Some level of empathy must exist, especially in story rich or character heavy games, to agree to or accept the circumstances as presented, but when a character like Ive exists, much like Kara, it's hard to overlook and can inevitable affect the enjoyment factor of the game. Although you do get Taika out of the deal, so....
Earthlock was lucky to win me over with a variety of mechanics, namely the talent board and bond system, but characters continued to be a stumbling block for the game. Each one of them felt vapid, and despite all efforts to differentiate themselves from RPG stereotypes, still fell subject to their cliché personalities. Gnart, who may have been the most dynamic characters was also one of the most tiring only because he followed the typical goofball sidekick trope thrown in for comedic effect - sure, he had some knowledge and an intriguing past, but he's liable to open mouth insert foot for a non-quality laugh to help lighten the mood and make us say, "Oh, you silly rabbit. You and your silly stories." It's stale, and it's unfortunate since out of the whole lot, Gnart's histroy, as well as that of his people would easily be the most interesting to read up on.
Olia, on the other hand, comes off as a waste. She brings brute muscle, which from a gameplay aspect is greatly welcomed, but her story is done to death. Squaresoft has given us enough of the brooding heroes who'd rather keep their past to themselves while we as players struggle to connect with these detached individuals. You're giving me nothing to work with here outside of strong-arming the competition. Eh, I suppose that's enough.
But enough of weak character portrayal. Let's delve into actual gameplay. Upon first glance, Earthlock feels a bit too rigid and leans far too much on traditional RPG values. Nothing exactly wrong with that, but it certainly did little to help sell the game. Sure, I started out by whining how so few traditional turn-based RPGs exist these days on consoles, but at the same time, I don't wish to play the same old tiring mechanics. Developers need to integrate new ideas to help invigorate old traditions and Earthlock failed to do that upon initial inspection. But once you get into the game and some of the more interesting mechanics open up, Earthlock begins to set itself apart. True, likenesses of the talent board or bond system have shown up in past titles, but they felt fresh, locked into a combination that helped us to look past the tried and true mechanics of the RPGs of yesteryear.
However, Earthlock definitely made some missteps in its hopes to individualize itself. Crafting was likely the biggest misstep of all as it completely nullified the use of the shop system. Despite my natural tendency to steer clear of shops in RPGs simply to increase the difficulty, I found the shop system in Earthlock to be completely unnecessary. If I can craft anything and everything and I can easily obtain any of the crafting materials from the various denizens of the world, why would I ever stop at the local market? Something few games have ever managed to properly balance is the coexistence of crafting and shop systems. More often than not, one negates the other and Earthlock may have been the greatest example of this problem.
Not only did crafting bring down the world market, but crafting befell its own niggles. At first, I kind of liked the idea of growing a garden from which I could craft various ammos or potions - all items of which I pretty much never used throughout the entire game, but I'll come to that later. It gave the game a tiny slice of a Harvest Moon feel. I hate to admit it, but Harvest Moon, or similar games have a joyfully addicting quality to them, so to see Earthlock integrate this, even on a bare minimum level, was cool. Turns out, I used the garden for nothing more than an achievement hunter effect. When that's the case, it should be blatantly obvious the mechanic was added without much forethought. Honestly, it was boring as hell to sit there clicking on plants for close to an hour or more trying to mutate a certain species only to find out after turning to GameFAQs to see if I was victim of a bug, that for one single mutation, they completely deviated from the norm in that you had to kill an optional boss. What the fuck? If Ive didn't annoy the piss out of me enough, shit like this happens - counter-intuitive garbage that suddenly diverges from everything we've learned up until that point.
What's more, the game suffered from various other counter-intuitive faults. Another one that nearly sent me over the edge was figuring out how to use my fifth through eighth abilities. The tutorials describe, fairly well, how to use the various menus and actions but failed to mention how to reach your next page of abilities. With my abilities tab grayed out, I wouldn't have guessed in a million years that I could still press the tab to find more abilities. Grayed out means the operation has come to an end; there's no more forward momentum here. It's the fucking clock in Where's Waldo? all over again. They're going against everything we've ever learned in gaming over the past 30 years. I only realized how to use those abilities by sheer accident after having left the room for a couple minutes and upon returning, picked up the controller and accidentally nudged the joystick in the right direction. That then led me to spend the next several minutes trying to replicate my accident. All be told, this event didn't happen until well over halfway through the game, so yea, I spent well over half the game believing the tutorial lied to me - that it was written for the PC version and they neglected to translate this one section for the Xbox.
And it doesn't end there! Figuring out how to upgrade Pat to Pat 2,0 was a total nightmare. I have all the necessary ingredients but...I can't craft the fucking token!? Oh! I've got to remove the original tokens. Well, that's real fucking obvious!
It's sad. There's many aspects of the game I loved, but far too often the game hit me out of left field with some half-assedness. And it's simple things they managed to botch. Fortunately, nothing's game breaking, but the annoyance level some of this stuff managed to induce is astronomical. Many of these faults so nearly made me shelve the game, but many of these things happened so late in the game that the time invested would prove nothing but waste and I hated the prospect of walking away from it when I was that far into the game - like I had reached a point of no return and was relegated to accepting my fate. Besides, the good qualities continued to coax me on - qualities like making best strategic use of the various bond configurations or the fact that I was playing a turn-based RPG that didn't rely on cyclical healing. Sure, healing was critical in certain battles, but it wasn't an absolute that I had to rely on throughout the entire game unlike most turn-based RPGs. And while most battles were nothing more than tests to dole out damage as fast as possible, a number of battles popped up that allowed me to make use of some of my other abilities thus forcing some underlying strategy throughout.
However, that being said, many abilities came off as superfluous. As mentioned before, how crafting ammo was a complete waste, I found few battles where a reliance on ammunition was a thing. The trade off for job swaps forcing me to lose a turn typically wasn't worth it, nor was the time spent crafting the ammo to begin with. Same can be said for the other characters. I pretty much ran all the characters on the one job I was comfortable with and stuck with it. The mere fact that that can be done makes the whole system moot. But then, without relying on cyclical healing or some sort of deeper element system, there was never really hope for such a system. If I can dole out enough damage with a sword just as quickly or more so than a gun, so be it. Of course, the argument can me made that it's all there for personalized customization. Fair enough. But I think with the job, or stance, system, the intent was for a more robust strategy allowance, which in my opinion backfired. They could have handled everything just as easily if everything was simply a single set of abilities allowed by a given character. I suppose it can be thought of as an offense/defense stance used in older RPGs, but at least there, you didn't have to waste a turn choosing your stance before you can make use of your allowed abilities. Instead, it seems to help fill out a common theme of implemented mechanics without much forethought.
Finally, on a personal note, I found the graphical style irksome. I loved the locale design and enemy design, but found the character design unnerving. It reminded me of the character design in Twilight Princess. Something about their looks is so off putting, and sadly with a number of characters already annoying me for one reason or another, the art direction made everything all the more tougher to digest.
I'm sure at the time of play a number of other details existed that I could have easily harangued over, but I doubt I'll remember them. They were likely minor anyways, at least compared to what I've covered here. Besides, I know what I have gone over were the major talking points I wished to hit up anyway. Perhaps I should keep a running log as I play, but alas, that would make all of this feel too much like work instead of a hobby with no return.
Suppose the last thing I can hit up is the soundtrack, but honestly, I can't remember a lick of music. I recall the music being sweet on the ears, but nothing really stood out. I know there were a couple tunes in the game I enjoyed but they obviously didn't leave a lasting mark. After refreshing myself with the soundtrack on Eiko's channel, it's sad that that's the case as there are certainly some nice gems stuck in there such as Vast Canyons, Sweltering Desert, or Dreamless Grotto, which after hearing it again I recall this being my favorite track in the game. Ah well, typical RPG fare.
Nano-Win:
One thing I did like about the game was the usage of Kickstarter funders' appellations for the ghost tag side quest. If was always interesting to see what quirky named individuals I'd come across next and a handful of them gave me a good laugh.
Nano-Rant:
Fix your fucking bestiary, and while you're at it, get some decent QA to proofread your text. There's nothing that will drag down the integrity and professionalism of a given game more than spelling and grammar mistakes. *Proofreads above editorial and hides* Eep!
Rating: 3 hogbunnies out of 5
Through various conversations with friends, I've often tried to produce a list of all the video games that I've beaten over the years. Alas, this list is much harder to produce than I imagined. And so I thought, what if I made a list of what games I've beaten from here on forward? I wonder just how many games I can make it through. Can I beat all games? Such a feat is impossible, surely, but we'll find out just how far I can get.
Showing posts with label XB1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label XB1. Show all posts
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Monday, April 25, 2016
XB1 - Pneuma: Breath of Life
Haiku-Review:
a self dialogue
to ascertain existence:
je pense, donc je suis?
Additional Comments:
It's funny. Upon playing Myst, I found the game massively underwhelming and generally lacking as far as gameplay is concerned. Still, there were certain qualities that were hard to ignore or deny as anything but exemplary. Unfortunately, those elements didn't exactly factor into the fun department.
I've found, however, as time drags on, I often find my thoughts returning to Myst. Maybe because I've had a urge to play Riven for the past couple of years but for some unknown reason, keep putting it off. Maybe because in the back of my mind, I keep telling myself that exploratory puzzle games are indeed of a fascinating breed of video games that I actually do enjoy; disparaging thoughts on Myst be damned. Maybe because games like Pneuma: Breath of Life come out and I think to myself, "How could I ever dislike something like that - something that appears to be steeped in esoteric mystery and unnerving loneliness? Both setting and mood styles that I wholeheartedly love yet somehow find myself disappointed time and time again by most games that graciously embrace it. But... But looking at a couple brief teasers of Pneuma and I can only believe my opinions are occluded with sheer nonsense. Myst wasn't a terrible game, and by no means will Pneuma be either. After all, it's bathed in fantastic emptiness and clever puzzle solving. Right?
Pneuma is certainly beautiful; perhaps one of the most beautiful games I'm ever come across. It might even be tempting to say it's too beautiful - the whole thing glossed over in an extra coating of sheen that treads on the outer bounds of graphical overkill. It reminds me of Forza Motorsport 6 where beautifully realistic graphics have been replaced with models that look like they're encased in Saran Wrap reflecting everything and anything under the sun with prominence, giving everything an off putting plastic look. I hate the look of Forza 6, and very nearly hate the graphics of Pneuma, but fortunately, this game only looked over the precipice instead of making a leap of faith into the idea that maximum gloss, flare, and reflection shall rule all when it comes to digital beauty. Still, the amount of reflection is a bit on the obnoxious side. But then, I suppose were supposed to accept Pneuma's world as brand spanking new and we need to witness as much sparkle and glitter to verify the idea. But the question begs, is the world the latest figments of Pneuma's mind made real mere seconds before you witness them as appears the case in the opening segments? Are we exploring something that's centuries old, or more? Doubt it as the idea of a weathered look is obviously foreign. Is it simply an anomaly of space and time similar in respects to the world of Myst?
But graphics are merely dressing and should only mildly affect the game as long as everything else is in order. Unfortunately, like Myst, Pneuma falls short in the game play department, perhaps even more so. For starters, I'd hesitate to say there's any sense of exploration. Unlike Myst, Pneuma is extremely linear, be it advancing from point A to point B in each of the stages or overcoming the next obstacle that stands in your way. If anything, exploration is limited to the idea of viewing an arcane Greco-Roman world with no backstory besides that questioned by the invisible protagonist, or anything you, the player, may wish to inject or possibly infer from the various paintings throughout the stages, pass by as you continually advance forward. Essentially, exploration is as prevalent as it is in a linear walking simulator. If it wasn't for an occasional puzzle to break the monotony, I'd swear Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator to begin with.
Except the puzzles are a total mixed bag. There's never anything that's going to force you to put on your thinking cap, but there are a few that are indeed clever nonetheless. Not exactly in how they're executed, but within their mechanics. I think this is one area where Pneuma really falls flat. Instead of fleshing out some of the more interesting mechanics, the game instead attempts to throw out fresh concepts for each puzzle. Ok, the main sight mechanic is tackled in various ways, but sadly, I think it stumbles as each eye puzzle becomes more of a test of inconvenience since the game's camera is tied to the protagonist. Having to walk around without being able to see where you're going isn't enjoyable, even if there's no inherent danger to be found. It's just annoying. But still, like the various eye puzzles, I'd like to have seen an evolution of depth in some of the more interesting puzzles or gimmicks like the Rubik's room, the binary gates, the flipping steeple, or the tetromino bridge. When it comes to complexity, I feel as though there's only one puzzle that accomplished this successfully: the four rotating towers. Unlike most of the puzzles in the game, that's one of the only ones where it felt like a lot of thought went into it without relying on the increasingly annoying line of sight gimmick or slapdash obstacles like the moving bookshelves that seem completely devoid of ingenuity. Speaking of lack of ingenuity, the sundial puzzle left me scratching my head. It came across as a checklist item - something simply existing because it was desired with no thought as to the why or how.
While a couple puzzles took a little longer to complete than I'd like to confess, very few felt comparative to the more involved puzzles found in Myst. Looking back on Myst, one thing I liked about that game is that puzzles or objects in one location affected objects in another location which gave everything a feeling of dependence. It helped make the world feel like a complex web as opposed to a series of singular events, each of which opens the gate to the next event. As such, Pneuma didn't have the same persistent feel that Myst had which hampered much of its immersive effect. Again, this all traces back to the idea that Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator.
What I found to be the most interesting thing about this game is that it appeared to make all the same inroads as Myst while also making the same missteps as Myst. It makes me wonder if this is simply a result of the genre but then you consider stuff like the 3D Zelda games and have to wonder how they can make puzzles not only fun but carry substantial weight. Why do these esoteric first person puzzle games fall short? Only theory I have is that the limited gameplay forces higher expectations. Perhaps it's just that - I'm expecting too much from these games. But Pneuma left me feeling hollow so it obviously failed somewhere.
One place it didn't fail though is the music. Extremely atmospheric, the music is phenomenal. Again, like Myst, it helps drive home proper mood of solitude, secrecy, and inquisition. It plays off Pneuma's chatty self examination questioning not only his existence, but the world's existence, and what it means to exist. Too bad the game doesn't quite play into the hand of Cartesian philosophy as much as Pneuma's incessant ramblings would lead you to believe. Instead, it plays as a distraction for an alternative to Philosophy 101 with a couple interesting puzzles, one fantastic puzzle, and a whole lot of freshly polished marble reflections.
Nano-Rant(s):
Again, similar to Myst, I found myself faced with a puzzle that I guess is simply beyond my reasoning. Much like a puzzle in Myst that I happened to solve via dumb luck, here too, I solved a certain puzzle by total happenstance and haven't the slightest clue how to actually solve it. I must have spent close to an hour trying to figure out how to manipulate the solution until I eventually forced the answer by unknown means. I still have no idea how to solve the puzzle, but at least the developers had the sense to make it one of the optional puzzles.
And speaking of optional puzzles, the scavenger hunt isn't exactly intuitive. At least every other puzzle in the game, even the aforementioned crap that I solved by total chance, had a degree of intuitiveness to it. Sure, it can be argued that the Roman numerals hint at the solution, but if you happen to miss the other plaques on your initial playthrough, the puzzle's going to go right over your head especially since there's no other puzzle that has any sense of world connection and Pneuma spouts off some nonsense about the solution being in the belly of the beast as soon as you enter the room. Again, I must have spent a good hour in that room trying to do every conceivable button combination on each of the paintings throughout the room because I fully expected the solution to be in that room. Too bad the load times in the game are fucking miserable and turn the puzzle into a complete chore to accomplish.
Also love the fact that there's a collectible trinket in each stage that serves no purpose whatsoever because Xbox didn't get the relative achievement that PlayStation and Steam got. There's not even a story tie-in. Way to make the game feel like it has even less purpose than it already has.
Rating: 2 forbidden fruits out of 5
a self dialogue
to ascertain existence:
je pense, donc je suis?
Additional Comments:
It's funny. Upon playing Myst, I found the game massively underwhelming and generally lacking as far as gameplay is concerned. Still, there were certain qualities that were hard to ignore or deny as anything but exemplary. Unfortunately, those elements didn't exactly factor into the fun department.
I've found, however, as time drags on, I often find my thoughts returning to Myst. Maybe because I've had a urge to play Riven for the past couple of years but for some unknown reason, keep putting it off. Maybe because in the back of my mind, I keep telling myself that exploratory puzzle games are indeed of a fascinating breed of video games that I actually do enjoy; disparaging thoughts on Myst be damned. Maybe because games like Pneuma: Breath of Life come out and I think to myself, "How could I ever dislike something like that - something that appears to be steeped in esoteric mystery and unnerving loneliness? Both setting and mood styles that I wholeheartedly love yet somehow find myself disappointed time and time again by most games that graciously embrace it. But... But looking at a couple brief teasers of Pneuma and I can only believe my opinions are occluded with sheer nonsense. Myst wasn't a terrible game, and by no means will Pneuma be either. After all, it's bathed in fantastic emptiness and clever puzzle solving. Right?
Pneuma is certainly beautiful; perhaps one of the most beautiful games I'm ever come across. It might even be tempting to say it's too beautiful - the whole thing glossed over in an extra coating of sheen that treads on the outer bounds of graphical overkill. It reminds me of Forza Motorsport 6 where beautifully realistic graphics have been replaced with models that look like they're encased in Saran Wrap reflecting everything and anything under the sun with prominence, giving everything an off putting plastic look. I hate the look of Forza 6, and very nearly hate the graphics of Pneuma, but fortunately, this game only looked over the precipice instead of making a leap of faith into the idea that maximum gloss, flare, and reflection shall rule all when it comes to digital beauty. Still, the amount of reflection is a bit on the obnoxious side. But then, I suppose were supposed to accept Pneuma's world as brand spanking new and we need to witness as much sparkle and glitter to verify the idea. But the question begs, is the world the latest figments of Pneuma's mind made real mere seconds before you witness them as appears the case in the opening segments? Are we exploring something that's centuries old, or more? Doubt it as the idea of a weathered look is obviously foreign. Is it simply an anomaly of space and time similar in respects to the world of Myst?
But graphics are merely dressing and should only mildly affect the game as long as everything else is in order. Unfortunately, like Myst, Pneuma falls short in the game play department, perhaps even more so. For starters, I'd hesitate to say there's any sense of exploration. Unlike Myst, Pneuma is extremely linear, be it advancing from point A to point B in each of the stages or overcoming the next obstacle that stands in your way. If anything, exploration is limited to the idea of viewing an arcane Greco-Roman world with no backstory besides that questioned by the invisible protagonist, or anything you, the player, may wish to inject or possibly infer from the various paintings throughout the stages, pass by as you continually advance forward. Essentially, exploration is as prevalent as it is in a linear walking simulator. If it wasn't for an occasional puzzle to break the monotony, I'd swear Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator to begin with.
Except the puzzles are a total mixed bag. There's never anything that's going to force you to put on your thinking cap, but there are a few that are indeed clever nonetheless. Not exactly in how they're executed, but within their mechanics. I think this is one area where Pneuma really falls flat. Instead of fleshing out some of the more interesting mechanics, the game instead attempts to throw out fresh concepts for each puzzle. Ok, the main sight mechanic is tackled in various ways, but sadly, I think it stumbles as each eye puzzle becomes more of a test of inconvenience since the game's camera is tied to the protagonist. Having to walk around without being able to see where you're going isn't enjoyable, even if there's no inherent danger to be found. It's just annoying. But still, like the various eye puzzles, I'd like to have seen an evolution of depth in some of the more interesting puzzles or gimmicks like the Rubik's room, the binary gates, the flipping steeple, or the tetromino bridge. When it comes to complexity, I feel as though there's only one puzzle that accomplished this successfully: the four rotating towers. Unlike most of the puzzles in the game, that's one of the only ones where it felt like a lot of thought went into it without relying on the increasingly annoying line of sight gimmick or slapdash obstacles like the moving bookshelves that seem completely devoid of ingenuity. Speaking of lack of ingenuity, the sundial puzzle left me scratching my head. It came across as a checklist item - something simply existing because it was desired with no thought as to the why or how.
While a couple puzzles took a little longer to complete than I'd like to confess, very few felt comparative to the more involved puzzles found in Myst. Looking back on Myst, one thing I liked about that game is that puzzles or objects in one location affected objects in another location which gave everything a feeling of dependence. It helped make the world feel like a complex web as opposed to a series of singular events, each of which opens the gate to the next event. As such, Pneuma didn't have the same persistent feel that Myst had which hampered much of its immersive effect. Again, this all traces back to the idea that Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator.
What I found to be the most interesting thing about this game is that it appeared to make all the same inroads as Myst while also making the same missteps as Myst. It makes me wonder if this is simply a result of the genre but then you consider stuff like the 3D Zelda games and have to wonder how they can make puzzles not only fun but carry substantial weight. Why do these esoteric first person puzzle games fall short? Only theory I have is that the limited gameplay forces higher expectations. Perhaps it's just that - I'm expecting too much from these games. But Pneuma left me feeling hollow so it obviously failed somewhere.
One place it didn't fail though is the music. Extremely atmospheric, the music is phenomenal. Again, like Myst, it helps drive home proper mood of solitude, secrecy, and inquisition. It plays off Pneuma's chatty self examination questioning not only his existence, but the world's existence, and what it means to exist. Too bad the game doesn't quite play into the hand of Cartesian philosophy as much as Pneuma's incessant ramblings would lead you to believe. Instead, it plays as a distraction for an alternative to Philosophy 101 with a couple interesting puzzles, one fantastic puzzle, and a whole lot of freshly polished marble reflections.
Nano-Rant(s):
Again, similar to Myst, I found myself faced with a puzzle that I guess is simply beyond my reasoning. Much like a puzzle in Myst that I happened to solve via dumb luck, here too, I solved a certain puzzle by total happenstance and haven't the slightest clue how to actually solve it. I must have spent close to an hour trying to figure out how to manipulate the solution until I eventually forced the answer by unknown means. I still have no idea how to solve the puzzle, but at least the developers had the sense to make it one of the optional puzzles.
And speaking of optional puzzles, the scavenger hunt isn't exactly intuitive. At least every other puzzle in the game, even the aforementioned crap that I solved by total chance, had a degree of intuitiveness to it. Sure, it can be argued that the Roman numerals hint at the solution, but if you happen to miss the other plaques on your initial playthrough, the puzzle's going to go right over your head especially since there's no other puzzle that has any sense of world connection and Pneuma spouts off some nonsense about the solution being in the belly of the beast as soon as you enter the room. Again, I must have spent a good hour in that room trying to do every conceivable button combination on each of the paintings throughout the room because I fully expected the solution to be in that room. Too bad the load times in the game are fucking miserable and turn the puzzle into a complete chore to accomplish.
Also love the fact that there's a collectible trinket in each stage that serves no purpose whatsoever because Xbox didn't get the relative achievement that PlayStation and Steam got. There's not even a story tie-in. Way to make the game feel like it has even less purpose than it already has.
Rating: 2 forbidden fruits out of 5
Monday, April 20, 2015
XB1 - Forza Horizon 2 Presents Fast & Furious
were I vaguely hip
to the Fast and Furious
I'd pen better words
Additional Comments:
Ah, a breather. After an incredibly long winded post, I expect I'll cull something up on the shorter side of the spectrum, and with good reason.
One, I'm fairly unfamiliar - no, outright ignorant of the Fast & Furious franchise. I've only ever seen bits and pieces of Tokyo Drift, and am well aware of Vin Diesel, Paul Walker, and Michelle Rodriguez being the primary acting mainstays across all the films (along with a few others that I couldn't name without looking the information up). Funny enough, those three, well Walker and Rodriguez (of what I've seen of Tokyo Drift, Vin Diesel had yet to make an appearance - I think) aren't even in the one movie I've seen bits and pieces of. Apart from all of that: fast, expensive cars, stupidly unrealistic stunts, and general bullshit that I can frankly care less about when it comes to movies. In a nutshell, that's my all-encompassing knowledge of the entire Fast & Furious line. Hate me all you want.
Two, being that this is some weird anomaly of a game - a standalone expansion pack - the content is...well, it feels incredibly limited compared to what could potentially exist given the full scope of Forza Horizon 2. Wait a minute. A standalone expansion pack. What we have here is an oxymoron. Let's make one thing clear. It's not an expansion pack. Gifting a single car into your Horizon garage by smashing all 20 bonus boards is the only "expansion" to Horizon 2 present. Technically, you can get the Fast & Furious cars used here in Horizon 2 as well, but only by purchasing a separate DLC. Wait, what!?
What is the point of this game? Admittedly, for those that don't have Horizon 2, like me, it's a fun little introduction to the game and a nice, exciting way to kill a few quick hours for free. Well, actually it isn't free anymore which only further fails to justify the thing, especially if you already own Horizon 2. Being bossed about by Ludacris and taking advantage of nitrous in a few particular events is all the new glossy coating you get to take advantage of. Otherwise, you're really just playing a highly censored variant of a game you already own. And while I may not own the full title, I'm well aware of its content to understand this strange constricted demo that is Horizon's attempt to make a few new friends off the back of the Fast & Furious franchise. Honestly, I'm sure it worked. After all, when the game plasters a nice advertisement for the full game all over the place, it's hard to escape the obvious commercial interests being shoved down our throats. Congratulations! You delivered all of the cars to the airfield. Time to shell out some real dough and download an overstuffed monster of digital media to your hard drive and play the real Forza Horizon 2 instead of this gimmicky introduction.
That being said, as a free...er, fairly cheap advertisement, it works. I enjoyed the original Forza Horizon, though not enough to warrant a definite purchase of the second. Thing is, I love the Forza Motorsport series, however the Forza Horizon series, while good, feels like it discredits the Forza name. It's far too arcadey of a game to properly carry the Forza moniker. If the series simply carried the name Horizon; thus dropping the name Forza, I'd probably take no issue with the game as I wouldn't hold the series against the upper echelon of console driving sims only to feel like I'm playing ripe competition for Need for Speed et. al.. Need for Speed and Forza Motorsports don't even remotely belong in the same category of racing games and as such, neither does Forza Horizon. Therefore, while fun, Horizon 2 failed to make my shopping list. Maybe in a year or two when I can get it for a discounted price - maybe, but even then I can't guarantee a purchase.
Which brings us to our demo, or expansion, or however this game should be labeled. To me, demo is a perfect term since it holds more than enough content to experience most of the major selling points of Horizon 2 while being stripped down enough so to not overload us with extra drivel. Unfortunately, for someone who's familiar with the series, it's disheartening not being able to paint, tune, or upgrade the cars, but given the context of the game, it's not exactly necessary. In a way, Fast & Furious can be viewed as a more arcadey version of a game that's already an arcadey version of another game - a constant devolution of fast action racing if you will.
With most of the Forza-esque toolkit missing, what's worth writing home about? Well, there is nitrous...when the game allows it, which unfortunately is seldom. While nitrous is a really cool new feature used to help tie in the Fast & Furious franchise (ah, something else I'm vaguely aware of in the series), the feature is utilized in probably only 2% of the game considering most of your time will be spent traversing the countryside, unless you're just looking to bang out the various events as quickly as possible. Eh, even then the mileage spent cruising from event to event weighs heavily in favor of little to no nitrous usage in the grand scheme of things. Why? Why add a feature that can genuinely set this little standalone glimpse into the world of Horizon apart from the actual game and then place heavy restrictions on its usage. I find it only furthers the question of why this is even a standalone product to begin with.
It seems that's a common theme - a multitude of back ass decisions that renders the whole thing as useless. Sure, I got my few short hours of fun out of it for free, and most would argue that I have no place to criticize. Defending those of us who downloaded it within the first week of release, I totally agree since it was initially free, but it's no longer free and I have to question anyone who would spend money on this. From a monetary perspective, it feels like a scam. Spend money on what's essentially a demo, then buy the full game, and while you're at it, spend some extra dough on the Fast & Furious booster pack so you can get seven of the cars that appeared in the Fast & Furious standalone expansion that you already paid money for. What the fuck!? Seriously! Maybe it's just me, but I'm having a really hard time wrapping my head around this other than it being a product of today's nickle and dime mentality that most gaming manufacturers appear to be trending towards. I'm grateful for the opportunity to have a free pass at Horizon 2 style play; even if it's tied into a movie franchise I can care less about, but once the exchange of money enters the picture I see no reason for this to exist. If anything, I see this title as nothing more than a poor decision made by dollar-goggled executives hoping to make a quick buck off of two highly favored franchises just in time for the latest tied-in movie release. This reminds me of another video game blunder: E.T. for the 2600. Exactly the same story all over again; rush some half-assed product out in time for some momentous occasion, be it Christmas for E.T. or the release of Furious 7 for this bullshit.
And finally, I want to touch on multiplayer. Since I haven't played the full blown game, I don't know if this is a spot on representation of Horizon 2's multiplayer or if some minor changes managed to creep in. I suspect it parallels the main game's fairly exact. I found the multiplayer in the original Horizon fairly straightforward, but here, I find it confusing. The seamlessness of it is well done, but I felt totally lost when it came to event set ups, racing to various meetups, or if that was even necessary since it appeared you could just drop in and out from anywhere on the map, as well as co-op bucket lists. I spent more time scratching my head trying to comprehend the multiplayer aspect of multiplayer. I can't help but feel something got lost in translation. Other than taking part in several drag races where everyone had the same Bugatti Veyron and it seemed the only difference between victory and loss was whether or not you drove a manual transmission, I imagined I was no more than a few steps away from just roaming the countryside with a bunch of mindless drivatars. Ok, I got to do a couple races, otherwise it was see who can upshift a Veyron quicker or...whelp, back to solo play I guess. Fortunately, I was completely done with all of the solo stuff by the time I hit up multiplayer, so in reality, there was nothing left for me to do.
But the real question is whether or not the game succeeded in its clever marketing ploy by exciting me enough with this short teaser to go on and buy the full game. No. No, it didn't. However, I'll applaud it for at least offering me a mild distraction for a couple days.
Rating: 2 iron bound saplings out of 5*
*Yea, that's something that annoyed me to no end in the first game as well. How can some frail little sapling take a car from 200 mph down to 0 mph in a matter of millimeters yet I can tear a small airplane in twain?
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
XB1 - Max: The Curse of Brotherhood
Haiku-Review:
disappearance act:
a task I'm quick to regret-
but I've a marker!
Additional Comments:
Yet another blessing from Games with Gold. And a blessing indeed as I quickly became enthralled with this quirky little platformer. Well, I use "quickly" in the loosest of terms as the game has sat idly by on my system for a couple of months as I continued to knock about in Forza Motorsports 5 or any other XBox One game that happened to grab my attention. From initial download, Max certainly seemed intriguing - I loved the artwork and the overall atmosphere of the levels from what I gleaned, but the whole drawing aspect appeared clunky and perhaps more of an uninvited guest sapping the overall energy from the game's platforming roots. And so Max sat, quietly in gaming limbo - just another game owned and maybe, just maybe, one day will be resplendent in the glory of play.
Unlike a large number of games in my collection, I had every intention to play Max from the very start. Despite my worries over potentially clumsy design, I was wowed by the straightforward emphasis on pure platforming. Days turned into weeks as I kept murmuring my wishes to start the game up once and for all, but then found my attention turned elsewhere - be it towards other games already in progress or other games that happened to catch my fancy all that much more. Look no further than the last few games pinned here on Beat All Games to find out what they were. Sorry, Max, but Guacamelee had me from the word go. Or should that be "¡Ve!"? Honestly, my Spanish is horrible, or rather, non-existent, so yea.
Finally, after lengthy bouts of procrastinating - and becoming frustrated with some of the Looker runs in Super Time Force - I decided to enter the strange fantasy that is Max: The Curse of Brotherhood. Instantly, addiction took over. I can't believe I put this game off for so long. Sure, the marker mechanics are somewhat clumsy upon initial play, but it's easy to get use to after a while - and incredibly necessary in the latter game, especially in Death by Lava. Surprisingly, after a number of early game deaths as I came to terms with how the environment properly functioned, my deaths dwindled in the end game; Death by Lava sending Max to an early grave only once. Color me shocked!
Thing is, Max isn't exactly a difficult game. I think most of the difficulty, if any, stems from the various environmental puzzles. But oddly, some of the more difficult, or what should have been more difficult puzzles, were easy to glean while some of the simpler puzzles flat out stumped me for a bit. I remember wracking by brain over one of the lantern bug puzzles only to feel stupid after realizing how simple the solution was - which interestingly enough, I didn't find the true solution until my 'no death' run. On my initial trials, I managed a half-assed solution that only lessened the present danger; thus having to book it as fast as my little legs could carry me. This, more than anything, made me play the part of the idiot when I found the true key to the puzzle.
Even the end boss proved enormously simple once I understood the mechanics, albeit I faced many deaths as I tried to understand what those mechanics were. To wit, I needlessly cycled through Mustacho's pound routine for minutes on end. My initial intuition was that Mustacho would cycle through his various states through his own volition. At least it seemed a sound theory based on past video game experiences. Again, foolishness got the better of me after realizing the earth pillars served a higher purpose - a higher purpose than what I was using them for: a means to evade Mustacho's Master Hand style slap. Of course, knowing the base mechanics of Max, it should have been clear that much like Max's trek through fantastic landscapes, here too, the marker plays an invaluable role. Oh, that's right! I should pay attention to the various marker hot spots to help deduce Mustacho's final puzzle. Why would I ever believe the final struggle would rely purely on physical battle tactics? I figured flicking countless fireballs at Mustacho's giant head would be more than enough to take down the elder demon inhabiting my dear little brother's skin. I can only guess that I learned nothing throughout my travels. That either doesn't bode well for the game or for me. I choose the latter because as I progressed through my no death runs, it became more and more obvious that Max's travels and the good witch's teaching were leading Max to a definitive strategy on destroying Mustacho and his plans to...to.... What were his plans again? To dominate this fantastical elsewhere with an iron fist? Eh, it's a bit of a wasteland, though I admit it has its own beauty and charm - the sheer definition of picturesque.
Picturesque beauty is certainly the highlight of the game. Its shallow to recommend a game based on graphics, as that should never be the main selling point, but for Max, I feel it's appropriate. The graphical beauty seems to be the building blocks of wonder here and the development team made a astonishing array of levels that not only look good, but play well. Attention is paid to both environmental atmosphere as well as play progression that is equally interesting, fun, and anxiety inducing. Oddly enough, tricky vine jumping and other platforming lunacy from unspeakable heights exacerbated the strong will to survive better than any other 2D platformer, which again can be attributed to the beauty and detail of the various environments. Rarely is this the case in any game, but somehow altitude felt to be a real and eminent threat. Often, height is just another means of quick death - passé really - but here the world evoked nervous fingers and sweaty palms. Father Oak was especially responsible for this feeling. Perhaps it can all be linked to my uncertainty I always felt when jumping onto a swinging vine, afraid that I was going to flick the stick incorrectly and leap to my doom despite knowing that such a feat was impossible thanks to vine mechanics. Even while finishing up the last of my no death runs and having played the game over the course of several days, my suspicions of the vines were never abated. Continual fear that if I held down, Max would slide down off the vine into blissful oblivion clenched my very soul. Ok, perhaps that's a little dramatic, but the essence of the situation sat uneasy with me as I nervously flicked the stick downward in quick little jabs, inching ever closer to the vegetative end.
Overall, I loved the game. My original worries over clumsy controls were quickly alleviated and it would be hard for me to argue any aspect of the game. Maybe length. That may be the one area of the game that disappointed me. The last few levels seem to have peaked at appropriate difficulty but then the game vanished before it had a chance to thoroughly explore some of the more sinister applications of Max's marker. When all was said and done, I was hoping for more. The game's length, or lack thereof, becomes especially apparent once you have full understanding of all the mechanics involved in the game and dash through the levels to either acquire any missed collectibles or obain no death status. But then, as I sit and think about average game length for any platformer, it's not that peculiar that Max feels so short. Most, if not all, platformers tend to run on the shorter side of the time spectrum. Speedruns can certainly attest to that. Then again, unlike the early Sonic or Mario games, I didn't finish Max in a single sitting, and while I see it being completely possible, I don't see it likely, at least for me - someone who tends to lengthen games via arbitrary exploration and needless noodling to ensure every nook and cranny has been exhausted. No wonder RPG's take me roughly twice the forecast amount of time to complete. Note to self: need to invest in more productive play style. Ugh.
Nano-Thought:
Why I am sensing an allusion to Onett in that opening scene? Or is it just me? Either way, kudos! I like it.
Rating: 4 plots achieved through puppetry out of 5
disappearance act:
a task I'm quick to regret-
but I've a marker!
Additional Comments:
Yet another blessing from Games with Gold. And a blessing indeed as I quickly became enthralled with this quirky little platformer. Well, I use "quickly" in the loosest of terms as the game has sat idly by on my system for a couple of months as I continued to knock about in Forza Motorsports 5 or any other XBox One game that happened to grab my attention. From initial download, Max certainly seemed intriguing - I loved the artwork and the overall atmosphere of the levels from what I gleaned, but the whole drawing aspect appeared clunky and perhaps more of an uninvited guest sapping the overall energy from the game's platforming roots. And so Max sat, quietly in gaming limbo - just another game owned and maybe, just maybe, one day will be resplendent in the glory of play.
Unlike a large number of games in my collection, I had every intention to play Max from the very start. Despite my worries over potentially clumsy design, I was wowed by the straightforward emphasis on pure platforming. Days turned into weeks as I kept murmuring my wishes to start the game up once and for all, but then found my attention turned elsewhere - be it towards other games already in progress or other games that happened to catch my fancy all that much more. Look no further than the last few games pinned here on Beat All Games to find out what they were. Sorry, Max, but Guacamelee had me from the word go. Or should that be "¡Ve!"? Honestly, my Spanish is horrible, or rather, non-existent, so yea.
Finally, after lengthy bouts of procrastinating - and becoming frustrated with some of the Looker runs in Super Time Force - I decided to enter the strange fantasy that is Max: The Curse of Brotherhood. Instantly, addiction took over. I can't believe I put this game off for so long. Sure, the marker mechanics are somewhat clumsy upon initial play, but it's easy to get use to after a while - and incredibly necessary in the latter game, especially in Death by Lava. Surprisingly, after a number of early game deaths as I came to terms with how the environment properly functioned, my deaths dwindled in the end game; Death by Lava sending Max to an early grave only once. Color me shocked!
Thing is, Max isn't exactly a difficult game. I think most of the difficulty, if any, stems from the various environmental puzzles. But oddly, some of the more difficult, or what should have been more difficult puzzles, were easy to glean while some of the simpler puzzles flat out stumped me for a bit. I remember wracking by brain over one of the lantern bug puzzles only to feel stupid after realizing how simple the solution was - which interestingly enough, I didn't find the true solution until my 'no death' run. On my initial trials, I managed a half-assed solution that only lessened the present danger; thus having to book it as fast as my little legs could carry me. This, more than anything, made me play the part of the idiot when I found the true key to the puzzle.
Even the end boss proved enormously simple once I understood the mechanics, albeit I faced many deaths as I tried to understand what those mechanics were. To wit, I needlessly cycled through Mustacho's pound routine for minutes on end. My initial intuition was that Mustacho would cycle through his various states through his own volition. At least it seemed a sound theory based on past video game experiences. Again, foolishness got the better of me after realizing the earth pillars served a higher purpose - a higher purpose than what I was using them for: a means to evade Mustacho's Master Hand style slap. Of course, knowing the base mechanics of Max, it should have been clear that much like Max's trek through fantastic landscapes, here too, the marker plays an invaluable role. Oh, that's right! I should pay attention to the various marker hot spots to help deduce Mustacho's final puzzle. Why would I ever believe the final struggle would rely purely on physical battle tactics? I figured flicking countless fireballs at Mustacho's giant head would be more than enough to take down the elder demon inhabiting my dear little brother's skin. I can only guess that I learned nothing throughout my travels. That either doesn't bode well for the game or for me. I choose the latter because as I progressed through my no death runs, it became more and more obvious that Max's travels and the good witch's teaching were leading Max to a definitive strategy on destroying Mustacho and his plans to...to.... What were his plans again? To dominate this fantastical elsewhere with an iron fist? Eh, it's a bit of a wasteland, though I admit it has its own beauty and charm - the sheer definition of picturesque.
Picturesque beauty is certainly the highlight of the game. Its shallow to recommend a game based on graphics, as that should never be the main selling point, but for Max, I feel it's appropriate. The graphical beauty seems to be the building blocks of wonder here and the development team made a astonishing array of levels that not only look good, but play well. Attention is paid to both environmental atmosphere as well as play progression that is equally interesting, fun, and anxiety inducing. Oddly enough, tricky vine jumping and other platforming lunacy from unspeakable heights exacerbated the strong will to survive better than any other 2D platformer, which again can be attributed to the beauty and detail of the various environments. Rarely is this the case in any game, but somehow altitude felt to be a real and eminent threat. Often, height is just another means of quick death - passé really - but here the world evoked nervous fingers and sweaty palms. Father Oak was especially responsible for this feeling. Perhaps it can all be linked to my uncertainty I always felt when jumping onto a swinging vine, afraid that I was going to flick the stick incorrectly and leap to my doom despite knowing that such a feat was impossible thanks to vine mechanics. Even while finishing up the last of my no death runs and having played the game over the course of several days, my suspicions of the vines were never abated. Continual fear that if I held down, Max would slide down off the vine into blissful oblivion clenched my very soul. Ok, perhaps that's a little dramatic, but the essence of the situation sat uneasy with me as I nervously flicked the stick downward in quick little jabs, inching ever closer to the vegetative end.
Overall, I loved the game. My original worries over clumsy controls were quickly alleviated and it would be hard for me to argue any aspect of the game. Maybe length. That may be the one area of the game that disappointed me. The last few levels seem to have peaked at appropriate difficulty but then the game vanished before it had a chance to thoroughly explore some of the more sinister applications of Max's marker. When all was said and done, I was hoping for more. The game's length, or lack thereof, becomes especially apparent once you have full understanding of all the mechanics involved in the game and dash through the levels to either acquire any missed collectibles or obain no death status. But then, as I sit and think about average game length for any platformer, it's not that peculiar that Max feels so short. Most, if not all, platformers tend to run on the shorter side of the time spectrum. Speedruns can certainly attest to that. Then again, unlike the early Sonic or Mario games, I didn't finish Max in a single sitting, and while I see it being completely possible, I don't see it likely, at least for me - someone who tends to lengthen games via arbitrary exploration and needless noodling to ensure every nook and cranny has been exhausted. No wonder RPG's take me roughly twice the forecast amount of time to complete. Note to self: need to invest in more productive play style. Ugh.
Nano-Thought:
Why I am sensing an allusion to Onett in that opening scene? Or is it just me? Either way, kudos! I like it.
Rating: 4 plots achieved through puppetry out of 5
Friday, August 8, 2014
XB1 - Guacamelee! Super Turbo Championship Edition
¡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
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