aidsn
8 reviews liked by aidsn
There’s a tendency to label video games as the most “immersive” medium due to their ability to be able to put the player in direct control, an active participant in the world they ask you to occupy. This “immersive factor” hinges on how well the game can pull you inside of itself, and how well it manages to keep you close, so as to not break the illusion otherwise it’ll risk breaking itself. I think the issue with this line of thinking is that it doesn’t take into account just how fluid the medium really can be, that in these endless discussions of how the mechanics take advantage of the medium we tend to miss when other aspects of a game can do the same. Ace Combat 04 is unique in that regard, where the strength of its narrative isn’t derived from how well it’s able to keep you close but from how far it can distance itself from you, trying to find the perfect balance.
There are no heroic speeches that tug on your heartstrings, no third-dimensional complex characters you can chew on. It’s the opposite, all of the characters remain enigmatic. You don’t get to know these people, you’re not allowed to, and that’s precisely why it works. Shattered Skies strips them down to less than the bare minimum, it’s all still pages narrated by a man reminiscing on a time long forgotten; people who history erased from its own books. All that remains from that era are melancholic memories as you hear the emotions layered around each word spewed by the narrator.
It’s precisely because of this aspect that the actual gameplay part of Ace Combat 04 feels like such a letdown. As the hours go on each mission feels less and less like it’s complementing the narrative and more like it stands separate, as the lines between each mission blur in my head and it all becomes a big giant mashup of all the score attacks the game throws at you. The repetitive “get X amount of points in a given time” approach to mission design can only stay fun for so long, and it just feels like I’m going through the motions until the next cutscene.
It just feels disappointing coming from the previous entry, Electrosphere, a game that just barely managed to balance its massive scope. Shattered Skies is simpler, it’s shorter, and by all accounts it should be more varied, yet I’m struggling to remember what Mission 10 of Ace Combat 04 even was. Despite that, it’s been months since I finished this little game and every once in a while I’ll remember it and start thinking deeply about it, the only reason I’m writing this is because it’s made a place in my head. I feel like the narrator with all my memories going hazy, and the only thing that remains is an inkling, as I remember what I once felt.
𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝙄 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐...
There are no heroic speeches that tug on your heartstrings, no third-dimensional complex characters you can chew on. It’s the opposite, all of the characters remain enigmatic. You don’t get to know these people, you’re not allowed to, and that’s precisely why it works. Shattered Skies strips them down to less than the bare minimum, it’s all still pages narrated by a man reminiscing on a time long forgotten; people who history erased from its own books. All that remains from that era are melancholic memories as you hear the emotions layered around each word spewed by the narrator.
It’s precisely because of this aspect that the actual gameplay part of Ace Combat 04 feels like such a letdown. As the hours go on each mission feels less and less like it’s complementing the narrative and more like it stands separate, as the lines between each mission blur in my head and it all becomes a big giant mashup of all the score attacks the game throws at you. The repetitive “get X amount of points in a given time” approach to mission design can only stay fun for so long, and it just feels like I’m going through the motions until the next cutscene.
It just feels disappointing coming from the previous entry, Electrosphere, a game that just barely managed to balance its massive scope. Shattered Skies is simpler, it’s shorter, and by all accounts it should be more varied, yet I’m struggling to remember what Mission 10 of Ace Combat 04 even was. Despite that, it’s been months since I finished this little game and every once in a while I’ll remember it and start thinking deeply about it, the only reason I’m writing this is because it’s made a place in my head. I feel like the narrator with all my memories going hazy, and the only thing that remains is an inkling, as I remember what I once felt.
𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝙄 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐...
The Silver Case
2016
This review contains spoilers
In a game, let alone continuity, lousy with sharp, confrontational artistic direction, it’s one as simple as the back of the box that continues to work its way through me. It’s the illustration of Kusabi, Sakura, and Kosaka, in particular - Sakura’s exaggerated frown extends out of the image towards you while Kusabi and Kosaka converse around her. If you’ve played the game, you’re aware that this configuration can only happen in the events proceeding the finale (a massive torpedo-spoiler on the back of the box, funny!). By extension, this also means that the illustration is, to whatever degree, a reflection on the status quo after case#5:lifecut, i.e. the chapter of the game where everything boils over, a majority of the Transmitter cast straight up dies, and radical actions by the hands of the remaining cast occur.
I love this illustration for a few reasons - for one, Takashi Miyamoto captures a sense of mundanity so well. In game, you’re never really able to bear witness to a Kusabi at peace in ordinary life, and here he’s beautifully human in his pose - well-earned after his arc through the game. Secondly, through that same focus on the mundane lies a commentary on the dynamics these characters are engaged in. I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to imply that the gender dynamics put forth here can be seen as a disappointing reminder that leaving Kusabi (love ‘em as I do) as the sole surviving veteran of the HCU means that the same bitterness which ostracized Hachisuka, possibly enabling something within to give in to her inevitable death-filing and appearance as Ayame, is likely still in the air. But these observations pale, in my opinion, to the context.
As she continues ascending the 24th Ward’s crime department, after bearing witness to the very operation that almost(/successfully?) doomed her and the player character to a life of artificial personhood, and after witnessing the takedown of the two major antagonists of the game, Nezu and (eventually) Uminosuke, she still frowns at us, the player. Why? I thought danwa was a happy ending.
-
TSC is one of few games I can think of that really eludes simple genre description. Sure, it’s a crime procedural, up until it isn’t. It’s a conspiracy thriller... in spots. It’s Lynchian surrealist dystopia? Alright we’re just gonna say words now, I guess? The only thing that comes to mind for descriptors is, like, slipstream fiction, which, given 25W references seminal proto-Cyberpunk novella The Girl Who Was Plugged In, seems apt enough to settle on. I won’t even evoke the P-word. The one that rhymes with “toast auburn.”
But really, this thought exercise is all just a veiled move to get you to wonder about the limitation of genre fiction as it applies to TSC, and poke at its aspirations. For this to be a standard crime procedural, you’d expect the HCU to... function in some capacity? And conspiracy thriller’s a no-go considering the weight that spirituality and all other intangibles have here, in my opinion. The way I’ll continue from this point to put it is thus: the Mikumo 77 incident, the murder of Kamui by the underworld factions, and the ensuing Shelter Kids policy reverberate through the story on many different frequencies, and the effect of it all is so bleak that only genre convention can make the discussion palatable as fiction. But it doesn’t always cover it: the melancholic, ambling work of Tokio through Placebo, the brain-swelling conflict of information in Transmitter, I think both serve as a reminder that there’s no easy out from underneath the sin of government control. It’s no surprise, I guess, that the symptoms get much, much worse when we return to Kanto in The 25th Ward.
-
Kamuidrome thru danwa (and the equivalent reports from Placebo’s end) are so dizzying and hard to come to terms with that I have literally shaved my head since first playing this game. This is actually true! I have death-filed!
That said, I feel like an essential piece of advice I could give someone who’s in for their first time is to enact judgment on the information based on who and when it’s coming from. This is easy enough in some cases - I think most people are primed from birth to hate pedo-fascist Nakategawa enough to not mind his words. But even fan-favorite Kusabi, for instance... this entire game is a slow fade-to-white for him as he unlearns an entire ideology of criminality equating plague, one he’s enforced so much with violence, not just as a cop, but as a particularly fucked up cop. In the beginning, I wouldn’t blame you for sticking with the competent elder authority of the cast, but if the ending moments of Parade don’t convince you to question the prior chapters, then I don’t know what will. The state of this world can be figured out with relative certainty as long as you keep track of where you are in the game’s web.
Though it can feel like a shotgun spread (& not helped by a localization that I can only describe as “challenging” (no shade to Grasshopper James btw, I can only imagine trying to piece this together 😭)), this game masterfully tiers up its information in a way that makes the trek through the underbelly of the 24th Ward feel so uniquely haunting. While certain aspects (the bench-warming faction war at the batting center comes to mind) do feel a bit bizarre and maybe even underdeveloped as words on a (cyber)page, the thematic tapestry of this game is exceptionally rich, even among other lauded-for-thematic-richness games. I’m a lifelong MGS fan and even I have to admit that after coming to conclusions confident enough to type words about, I think we might be seeing a lunch-eating of unseen proportions.
I love this illustration for a few reasons - for one, Takashi Miyamoto captures a sense of mundanity so well. In game, you’re never really able to bear witness to a Kusabi at peace in ordinary life, and here he’s beautifully human in his pose - well-earned after his arc through the game. Secondly, through that same focus on the mundane lies a commentary on the dynamics these characters are engaged in. I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to imply that the gender dynamics put forth here can be seen as a disappointing reminder that leaving Kusabi (love ‘em as I do) as the sole surviving veteran of the HCU means that the same bitterness which ostracized Hachisuka, possibly enabling something within to give in to her inevitable death-filing and appearance as Ayame, is likely still in the air. But these observations pale, in my opinion, to the context.
As she continues ascending the 24th Ward’s crime department, after bearing witness to the very operation that almost(/successfully?) doomed her and the player character to a life of artificial personhood, and after witnessing the takedown of the two major antagonists of the game, Nezu and (eventually) Uminosuke, she still frowns at us, the player. Why? I thought danwa was a happy ending.
-
TSC is one of few games I can think of that really eludes simple genre description. Sure, it’s a crime procedural, up until it isn’t. It’s a conspiracy thriller... in spots. It’s Lynchian surrealist dystopia? Alright we’re just gonna say words now, I guess? The only thing that comes to mind for descriptors is, like, slipstream fiction, which, given 25W references seminal proto-Cyberpunk novella The Girl Who Was Plugged In, seems apt enough to settle on. I won’t even evoke the P-word. The one that rhymes with “toast auburn.”
But really, this thought exercise is all just a veiled move to get you to wonder about the limitation of genre fiction as it applies to TSC, and poke at its aspirations. For this to be a standard crime procedural, you’d expect the HCU to... function in some capacity? And conspiracy thriller’s a no-go considering the weight that spirituality and all other intangibles have here, in my opinion. The way I’ll continue from this point to put it is thus: the Mikumo 77 incident, the murder of Kamui by the underworld factions, and the ensuing Shelter Kids policy reverberate through the story on many different frequencies, and the effect of it all is so bleak that only genre convention can make the discussion palatable as fiction. But it doesn’t always cover it: the melancholic, ambling work of Tokio through Placebo, the brain-swelling conflict of information in Transmitter, I think both serve as a reminder that there’s no easy out from underneath the sin of government control. It’s no surprise, I guess, that the symptoms get much, much worse when we return to Kanto in The 25th Ward.
-
Kamuidrome thru danwa (and the equivalent reports from Placebo’s end) are so dizzying and hard to come to terms with that I have literally shaved my head since first playing this game. This is actually true! I have death-filed!
That said, I feel like an essential piece of advice I could give someone who’s in for their first time is to enact judgment on the information based on who and when it’s coming from. This is easy enough in some cases - I think most people are primed from birth to hate pedo-fascist Nakategawa enough to not mind his words. But even fan-favorite Kusabi, for instance... this entire game is a slow fade-to-white for him as he unlearns an entire ideology of criminality equating plague, one he’s enforced so much with violence, not just as a cop, but as a particularly fucked up cop. In the beginning, I wouldn’t blame you for sticking with the competent elder authority of the cast, but if the ending moments of Parade don’t convince you to question the prior chapters, then I don’t know what will. The state of this world can be figured out with relative certainty as long as you keep track of where you are in the game’s web.
Though it can feel like a shotgun spread (& not helped by a localization that I can only describe as “challenging” (no shade to Grasshopper James btw, I can only imagine trying to piece this together 😭)), this game masterfully tiers up its information in a way that makes the trek through the underbelly of the 24th Ward feel so uniquely haunting. While certain aspects (the bench-warming faction war at the batting center comes to mind) do feel a bit bizarre and maybe even underdeveloped as words on a (cyber)page, the thematic tapestry of this game is exceptionally rich, even among other lauded-for-thematic-richness games. I’m a lifelong MGS fan and even I have to admit that after coming to conclusions confident enough to type words about, I think we might be seeing a lunch-eating of unseen proportions.
The Silver Case
2016
❝ This is my first and last game.
After that. I've decided to keep
on living.
Because even someone worthless has
at least a part of a soul.
That is how people live.
That's what I've finally learned
after living "everyday life"
in this world.
Even without hope. even in
great fear.
even when continuing to drag along
that which no longer has any value.
one can go on living.
Specifically because of our
imperfections. ❞
After that. I've decided to keep
on living.
Because even someone worthless has
at least a part of a soul.
That is how people live.
That's what I've finally learned
after living "everyday life"
in this world.
Even without hope. even in
great fear.
even when continuing to drag along
that which no longer has any value.
one can go on living.
Specifically because of our
imperfections. ❞
Yeah, "comprehend"...
I could talk in depth about the soundtrack, or the artwork. It’s all excellent.
But I’d rather talk about what the game is trying to say.
It's a game about a descent into a new age.
It's a game about how the internet affects our view on storytelling.
It's a game about believing the net.
It's a game about the strive for perfection and cleanliness in modern day society.
It's a game about killing your past.
It's a game about how the ignorant masses turn a blind eye to things that don't align with their worldview.
It's a game about saving the life.
It's a game about crime.
It's a game about forgiveness.
It's a game about necessary evils.
Ultimately,
I think it's a game about comprehension.
Once you have observed all this game has to offer, do you get it?
I like to think I “got” what it is about. But I doubt I’ll ever be sure.
But speculation and the opportunity to draw your own conclusions is what makes this game tick.
I went through a couple of ideas whilst writing up this review. But scrapped a bunch because they were too pretentious or didn’t really highlight the games’ strengths.
You just read the final review I came up with. Could you imagine how pretentious the other ones must’ve been?
Bravo Suda
I could talk in depth about the soundtrack, or the artwork. It’s all excellent.
But I’d rather talk about what the game is trying to say.
It's a game about a descent into a new age.
It's a game about how the internet affects our view on storytelling.
It's a game about believing the net.
It's a game about the strive for perfection and cleanliness in modern day society.
It's a game about killing your past.
It's a game about how the ignorant masses turn a blind eye to things that don't align with their worldview.
It's a game about saving the life.
It's a game about crime.
It's a game about forgiveness.
It's a game about necessary evils.
Ultimately,
I think it's a game about comprehension.
Once you have observed all this game has to offer, do you get it?
I like to think I “got” what it is about. But I doubt I’ll ever be sure.
But speculation and the opportunity to draw your own conclusions is what makes this game tick.
I went through a couple of ideas whilst writing up this review. But scrapped a bunch because they were too pretentious or didn’t really highlight the games’ strengths.
You just read the final review I came up with. Could you imagine how pretentious the other ones must’ve been?
Bravo Suda
Silver Jiken
1999
i dont speak japanese
It's way more stylized and complex than The Silver Case was which is pretty surprising. A lot of that complexity comes from connecting very vague story points across the game. That could be a negative but it's intentionally ambiguous in the beginning, putting it together and getting the full picture is part of the fun.
Some of it did feel pretty unnecessary (mostly Matchmaker chapters) but the characters in the 25th Ward as it was fleshed out felt iconic and often sombre in their stories.
I'd say the original Silver Case is slightly better to me but The 25th Ward is extremely close.
I'd also be remiss not to mention the music. It's great.
Some of it did feel pretty unnecessary (mostly Matchmaker chapters) but the characters in the 25th Ward as it was fleshed out felt iconic and often sombre in their stories.
I'd say the original Silver Case is slightly better to me but The 25th Ward is extremely close.
I'd also be remiss not to mention the music. It's great.
I am incredibly disappointed in my personal decision, back in 2020, to feed into the outrage of the leaks and ignore the game at launch, despite my initial excitement. While far from perfect and fails to match the cohesion of the first title, the mostly successful narrative risks Part II decides to take can only be understood through a proper playthrough.
I find myself grappling with the narrative and structure more than anything given how fine-tuned and excellent the gameplay experience itself is. There seems to be a collective tired attitude towards the onslaught of cinematic Sony titles (rightfully so), but Naughty Dog is undeniably the peak of this direction. A realistic level of fluidity and weight to the combat and high attention to detail pairs well with the unavoidable insertion of cutscenes. Similar to the first, there's a toll to your actions as a player that would not have the same effect in any other medium, even if the delivery is awkward at moments (quick-time events, for example).
To summarize the problem, the narrative's delivery is largely disrupted by the structure, mainly boiling down to Ellie's section in Seattle. The game's opening is shocking yet effective, but the following 10+ hours feel poorly utilized. I appreciate the growing severity in her kills that leads the player to question the necessity behind enacting revenge, but your days in Seattle are mostly uneventful and incredibly repetitive. Ellie is forced to follow along the clues Tommy have left behind, with very little else happening in between. The flashback sequences, which are incredibly meaningful and effective in piecing together the moments between the two games, feel like a direct acknowledgment of the slowness, as very little plot progression is made to entertain the player in between. The enjoyable gameplay sequences keep the player stringing along, but even this aspect had its lower moments; Mainly, the open area segment when Ellie first arrives in Seattle, carrying over one of the weakest and blandest aspects from Uncharted 4.
Abby's route mostly resolves these issues, but suffers from the absence of an "end-goal" that consistently drives the plot. It makes the events feel relatively insignificant when compared to the ongoing Wolves vs Scars conflict and the tension in Ellie's hunt, but that insignificance is critical to humanizing her character. The moments are not equally engaging, but convincing, which is a worthwhile trade-off for the goals of the game.
Poor structure and consequently characterization stand out far more given how exceptionally executed these factors are in Part I, where the clear end-goal allowed for time spent to develop the relationship of Joel and Ellie and their interactions with the sparse yet memorable side cast, while narrative progress was still being made. The majority of Part II's side cast feel like plot devices to fuel the grief and fury of Ellie and Abby; That isn't to say their interactions are not believable nor engaging, but they never create a level of emotional attachment established with the cast of the first game.
Fortunately, these flaws are the sacrifice for an exceptional thematic continuation of Ellie's journey. I cannot understate the importance that physically playing through the game has on your perspective towards Ellie and Abby's actions. It goes beyond understanding their fuel for revenge, but the misery of watching their lives spiral into chaos as they act on these feelings. The switch in protagonist is not a shallow explanation that there are two sides to every story, but a greater comment on how the first-person gameplay experience forces us to attach ourselves and root for a side, where our actions and emotional attachments are irrational.
Not only are these feelings irrational, but most importantly, inconsistent. If time reverts and events change, where Joel now forces himself into the emergency room, and Abby is now at the side of the doctor, would he make the same decisions? Abby's physical presence does not change the fact that killing the doctor will leave the child fatherless and spark a thirst for revenge, but the ability for Joel to know beforehand may have led to a completely different ending where Part II cannot exist. This is the main aspect of the narrative I feel is misconstrued, that Ellie's vicious killing of Scars and Wolves is contradictory to the stance she takes in the end, as if that itself is a flaw when in actuality it's the point. If not for Ellie, Abby's interactions with Lev and Yara is Naughty Dog being as blatant as possible. I find boiling the game down to the shallow conclusion "Revenge is bad" does a disservice to the numerous moments throughout the game where Ellie and Abby's humanity are challenged, and that their development as characters is not so linear in their realization that their actions have consequences. The final few scenes could not be a more horrifying yet beautifully portrayed depiction of inconsistency.
Even after the sweeps of controversy that consumed the launch of Part II back in 2020, I find myself satisfied with Naughty Dog's consistent level of quality and effort to take risks in an era of Sony that feels stale and safe. I love the Infected world of Last of Us but am looking forward to how ND's talent can be handled in a new series going forward.
I find myself grappling with the narrative and structure more than anything given how fine-tuned and excellent the gameplay experience itself is. There seems to be a collective tired attitude towards the onslaught of cinematic Sony titles (rightfully so), but Naughty Dog is undeniably the peak of this direction. A realistic level of fluidity and weight to the combat and high attention to detail pairs well with the unavoidable insertion of cutscenes. Similar to the first, there's a toll to your actions as a player that would not have the same effect in any other medium, even if the delivery is awkward at moments (quick-time events, for example).
To summarize the problem, the narrative's delivery is largely disrupted by the structure, mainly boiling down to Ellie's section in Seattle. The game's opening is shocking yet effective, but the following 10+ hours feel poorly utilized. I appreciate the growing severity in her kills that leads the player to question the necessity behind enacting revenge, but your days in Seattle are mostly uneventful and incredibly repetitive. Ellie is forced to follow along the clues Tommy have left behind, with very little else happening in between. The flashback sequences, which are incredibly meaningful and effective in piecing together the moments between the two games, feel like a direct acknowledgment of the slowness, as very little plot progression is made to entertain the player in between. The enjoyable gameplay sequences keep the player stringing along, but even this aspect had its lower moments; Mainly, the open area segment when Ellie first arrives in Seattle, carrying over one of the weakest and blandest aspects from Uncharted 4.
Abby's route mostly resolves these issues, but suffers from the absence of an "end-goal" that consistently drives the plot. It makes the events feel relatively insignificant when compared to the ongoing Wolves vs Scars conflict and the tension in Ellie's hunt, but that insignificance is critical to humanizing her character. The moments are not equally engaging, but convincing, which is a worthwhile trade-off for the goals of the game.
Poor structure and consequently characterization stand out far more given how exceptionally executed these factors are in Part I, where the clear end-goal allowed for time spent to develop the relationship of Joel and Ellie and their interactions with the sparse yet memorable side cast, while narrative progress was still being made. The majority of Part II's side cast feel like plot devices to fuel the grief and fury of Ellie and Abby; That isn't to say their interactions are not believable nor engaging, but they never create a level of emotional attachment established with the cast of the first game.
Fortunately, these flaws are the sacrifice for an exceptional thematic continuation of Ellie's journey. I cannot understate the importance that physically playing through the game has on your perspective towards Ellie and Abby's actions. It goes beyond understanding their fuel for revenge, but the misery of watching their lives spiral into chaos as they act on these feelings. The switch in protagonist is not a shallow explanation that there are two sides to every story, but a greater comment on how the first-person gameplay experience forces us to attach ourselves and root for a side, where our actions and emotional attachments are irrational.
Not only are these feelings irrational, but most importantly, inconsistent. If time reverts and events change, where Joel now forces himself into the emergency room, and Abby is now at the side of the doctor, would he make the same decisions? Abby's physical presence does not change the fact that killing the doctor will leave the child fatherless and spark a thirst for revenge, but the ability for Joel to know beforehand may have led to a completely different ending where Part II cannot exist. This is the main aspect of the narrative I feel is misconstrued, that Ellie's vicious killing of Scars and Wolves is contradictory to the stance she takes in the end, as if that itself is a flaw when in actuality it's the point. If not for Ellie, Abby's interactions with Lev and Yara is Naughty Dog being as blatant as possible. I find boiling the game down to the shallow conclusion "Revenge is bad" does a disservice to the numerous moments throughout the game where Ellie and Abby's humanity are challenged, and that their development as characters is not so linear in their realization that their actions have consequences. The final few scenes could not be a more horrifying yet beautifully portrayed depiction of inconsistency.
Even after the sweeps of controversy that consumed the launch of Part II back in 2020, I find myself satisfied with Naughty Dog's consistent level of quality and effort to take risks in an era of Sony that feels stale and safe. I love the Infected world of Last of Us but am looking forward to how ND's talent can be handled in a new series going forward.
Pikmin 1
2023
An ingenious mashup of unique, tactical gameplay, with Nintendo's unique creative shine, packaged in the charming aesthetics of the early 2000s gaming era. The core concept of managing dozens of Pikmin across wildlife areas and effectively managing your limited time is so impressively fine-tuned for being the first in the series.
I played the third game a few years ago, which made me feel the loss of specific mechanics that added depth to the experience, especially the lack of multiple captains and more Pikmin types. The first rides a line of being too janky or unvaried, but the short length keep things in balance. This stands especially true with the ease in difficulty that 3's enhancements bring, where the first's deadline of 30 days add a constant threat of failure without feeling stressful (Even if I wish the game's deadline was shorter, as multiple critical slip-ups, especially in the Final Trial, resulted in little punishment).
The smaller scope allows for 1 to stand on it's own as a valuable and unique journey. I've never been one for replaying games, but I feel incredibly compelled to return to this eventually, knowing how many ridiculous mistakes could be easily avoided and bump up my performance drastically. Simply a joyful, uniquely Nintendo experience.
[Completed in 28/30 days. Surviving Pikmin: 62. Total Pikmin lost: 1228. Total Pikmin sprouted: 1303]
I played the third game a few years ago, which made me feel the loss of specific mechanics that added depth to the experience, especially the lack of multiple captains and more Pikmin types. The first rides a line of being too janky or unvaried, but the short length keep things in balance. This stands especially true with the ease in difficulty that 3's enhancements bring, where the first's deadline of 30 days add a constant threat of failure without feeling stressful (Even if I wish the game's deadline was shorter, as multiple critical slip-ups, especially in the Final Trial, resulted in little punishment).
The smaller scope allows for 1 to stand on it's own as a valuable and unique journey. I've never been one for replaying games, but I feel incredibly compelled to return to this eventually, knowing how many ridiculous mistakes could be easily avoided and bump up my performance drastically. Simply a joyful, uniquely Nintendo experience.
[Completed in 28/30 days. Surviving Pikmin: 62. Total Pikmin lost: 1228. Total Pikmin sprouted: 1303]