curse
2022
only exists so some mindless pervert can blow rope any time a reviewer mentions k*rosawa
1997
the most unsalted tops ass shooter of the era. something of a canary in the coalmine in hindsight and the first of many dead eyed john carmack tech demos that lack the human component that made id's earlier work so compelling — namely john romero and sandy petersen
a comprehensive downgrade from atmosphere to movement to weapons to maps to enemy designs, functions, and even silhouettes. while it doesn't play poorly it settles on a perfunctory lurch early on and operates comfortably in that space til end credits roll four hours later
I revisit this thing every few years when the psyop hits successfully and seem to enjoy it less and less each time. in fairness I don't mind the quasi hub format even if it feels real conservative following hexen and strife, some of the setpieces are cute, and I eventually came around on how every monster looks like it was inspired by toy story. at one point I walked into a room full of people doin an elmer fudd thing for some reason? I don't know dude, this game's real dumb
a comprehensive downgrade from atmosphere to movement to weapons to maps to enemy designs, functions, and even silhouettes. while it doesn't play poorly it settles on a perfunctory lurch early on and operates comfortably in that space til end credits roll four hours later
I revisit this thing every few years when the psyop hits successfully and seem to enjoy it less and less each time. in fairness I don't mind the quasi hub format even if it feels real conservative following hexen and strife, some of the setpieces are cute, and I eventually came around on how every monster looks like it was inspired by toy story. at one point I walked into a room full of people doin an elmer fudd thing for some reason? I don't know dude, this game's real dumb
huge win for the crate stacking suck n fuck genre
2001
sorry I gotta be the one to tell everyone this but the controls are good and the combat is good
RPG encounter design doesn't get any better than this: no scaling, no magical handwave to explain why enemies suddenly hit the road and get replaced with other enemies once you hit a certain level, no bandits in glass armour; the world is constant and if you fuck around you're gonna get got by an orc or some kinda weird bird just like real life
it's the earthiest and most respectable method of approaching these things; the rare instance where the game doesn't treat the player character as an elevated actor with undue importance and insists they participate on even ground. you start off at the very bottom and are tasked with earning respect and trust gradually, shaping the way you're perceived, your station, and opening doors to people and opportunities you wouldn't have had otherwise
this emphasis on a more grounded world extends to most everything else as well. NPCs have routines and sub-routines; monsters sleep, eat, roam, and flee from predators if attacked; and objects with no mechanical value or purpose can be interacted with for cosmetic or roleplaying purposes. while many, many, many games prior had schedules and day/night variance, few if any operated on this level, and many of gothic's contemporaries wound up looking rigid and staid in comparison
if there's any stumbling here it's that the second half loses some steam after you choose a faction and get railroaded into more linear action oriented quests, but it's not enough to detract much from the overall experience because.........
the controls are good
the combat is good
RPG encounter design doesn't get any better than this: no scaling, no magical handwave to explain why enemies suddenly hit the road and get replaced with other enemies once you hit a certain level, no bandits in glass armour; the world is constant and if you fuck around you're gonna get got by an orc or some kinda weird bird just like real life
it's the earthiest and most respectable method of approaching these things; the rare instance where the game doesn't treat the player character as an elevated actor with undue importance and insists they participate on even ground. you start off at the very bottom and are tasked with earning respect and trust gradually, shaping the way you're perceived, your station, and opening doors to people and opportunities you wouldn't have had otherwise
this emphasis on a more grounded world extends to most everything else as well. NPCs have routines and sub-routines; monsters sleep, eat, roam, and flee from predators if attacked; and objects with no mechanical value or purpose can be interacted with for cosmetic or roleplaying purposes. while many, many, many games prior had schedules and day/night variance, few if any operated on this level, and many of gothic's contemporaries wound up looking rigid and staid in comparison
if there's any stumbling here it's that the second half loses some steam after you choose a faction and get railroaded into more linear action oriented quests, but it's not enough to detract much from the overall experience because.........
the controls are good
the combat is good
"I am a sleeper, one among thousands. I bring you a message. dagoth ur calls you, nerevarine, and you cannot deny your lord. the sixth house is risen, and dagoth is its glory"
despite the doom and gloom about oblivion, it's morrowind that serves as the elder scrolls' greatest anomaly: an inflection point that swerved the series away from faceless maximalism, monolithic breadth, and randomized content. developed during a period of fear and uncertainty about the future of the company, todd howard summed up the philosophy behind the risk taking succinctly: "what's the worst that's going to happen?"
a meticulously handcrafted world you could feasibly traverse in real time, a multitude of elaborate static questlines, lessened emphasis on level scaling, fast travel relegated solely to in-world means, rich itemization, an enhanced dialogue system, smaller dungeons that approximate real spaces... to say the changes were significant is an understatement. while established pillars like the character creation format and learn-by-doing skill system remained largely in tact, nearly everything else was reimagined or reworked to fit a game that was, among many things, more local. where bethesda once crafted abstract worlds, here they'd take on the challenge of designing, establishing, and allowing you to inhabit an actual place
nine regions spiral inward, each housing numerous geographies, cultures and settlements; each with drastically distinct architectures informed by them. the mushroom towers of the telvani, carapace huts of gnisis or ald-ruhn, stone and thatched roof settlements of the imperials, yurts of the ashlanders, and crooked daedric ruins being but a few. where previous — and to a lesser extent subsequent — entries in the series drew from a standard palette of european history and high fantasy, morrowind takes great efforts to distinguish itself as something uniquely alien, largely thanks to artist, writer, and designer michael kirkbride
fittingly, you're a stranger — a foreigner, outlander, n'wah — tasked with observing and navigating the region, its factions and religions, and the splinter groups and fractured politics within them. if you follow the narrative throughline you'll be expected to gather some body of knowledge, but most of it is offered in the way of extracurricular research and after hours inquisition
it's a congruent approach that allows for as much or as little engagement with the absurd amount of subsurface lore and worldbuilding as possible. if you choose to delve you'll get stories full of contradictions, unreliable narrators, historical records, mythological yarns, rituals, poems, lusty argonian maids, and a guy who learned to wear heavy armour so well he could walk on his hands and fuck his wife without removing it. if you choose not to you can stick to the more utile texts like the red book of 3E 426 or dismiss everything altogether. you can go the whole game without knowing what a dwemer is, but you're covered: some folks don't know shit
really, you don't have to know or do anything. once off the boat you'll amble forward all sluggish and dim and likely spend most of your time wandering aimlessly, learning elaborate public transit routes, memorizing directions, and getting lost in vivec. while there's urgency to the main quest, more often than not it'll be sending you far and wide to hobnob, get the lay of the land, and delve into tombs and caverns
and therein lies the brick wall that fells many an adventurer: the combat. in a contentious swerve morrowind is the only game in the series that binds the success of basic attacks to dice rolls. your blade may look like it's passing through one of the dozen cliff racers that've chased you from sheogorad to the ascadian isles, but the outcome is up to chance — and chance is working against you in the early hours. on its face it's a bad decision; it inarguably feels worse than any other game in the series, but that's ultimately why it proves to be the correct one
morrowind has something of a hyperbolic power curve. odds are if you're new to the game you might make a build where rats are lethal, walking up a slight incline requires you to take a break, and your understanding of your weapon is fundamentally unsound in a way that shouldn't be possible. you're basically the biggest loser to ever grace tamriel, and after you meet jiub, sign your paperwork, and get lost finding caius cosades you'll probably find yourself poisoned, paralyzed, or worse. the beauty in this is how it enables a heightened level of contrast
by the end of the game you'll be soaring over the ghostgate adorned in Exquisite Shirts and Pants that eliminate fall damage and fatigue, wielding custom swords that siphon enemy agility ("malder's gait"), and hosting a gilgameshian hoard of artifacts so valuable you'll have to sell them to a crab just to get half the money they're worth. you'll become a living cartoon on some who framed roger rabbit or space jam shit, and the juxtaposition couldn't possibly be more satisfying — all because of those shitty fuckin dice rolls
morrowind is a journey, one that's as much about murking bureaucrats, finding a smoking hot telvani wife, getting called slurs, contracting a thousand diseases, and severing the threads of prophecy as it is being ""Nerevarine"" or anything else. for all its little flaws and idiosyncrasies it continues to creep up the list of my favourite games, and hell, I guess I love it
in the end after a hard fought victory I ended up back where I started: in caius cosades house, now stacked knee high with books, glass armours, boots of flying, sixth house trinkets, and a fire hazard's worth of odds and ends. in honour of my good friend the spymaster I decided to relax, hit the Good Skooma Pipe (Quality: 0.15), and get some rest...
I sure hope nothing weird happens with The Tribunal haha!!!
blows insane plume
despite the doom and gloom about oblivion, it's morrowind that serves as the elder scrolls' greatest anomaly: an inflection point that swerved the series away from faceless maximalism, monolithic breadth, and randomized content. developed during a period of fear and uncertainty about the future of the company, todd howard summed up the philosophy behind the risk taking succinctly: "what's the worst that's going to happen?"
a meticulously handcrafted world you could feasibly traverse in real time, a multitude of elaborate static questlines, lessened emphasis on level scaling, fast travel relegated solely to in-world means, rich itemization, an enhanced dialogue system, smaller dungeons that approximate real spaces... to say the changes were significant is an understatement. while established pillars like the character creation format and learn-by-doing skill system remained largely in tact, nearly everything else was reimagined or reworked to fit a game that was, among many things, more local. where bethesda once crafted abstract worlds, here they'd take on the challenge of designing, establishing, and allowing you to inhabit an actual place
nine regions spiral inward, each housing numerous geographies, cultures and settlements; each with drastically distinct architectures informed by them. the mushroom towers of the telvani, carapace huts of gnisis or ald-ruhn, stone and thatched roof settlements of the imperials, yurts of the ashlanders, and crooked daedric ruins being but a few. where previous — and to a lesser extent subsequent — entries in the series drew from a standard palette of european history and high fantasy, morrowind takes great efforts to distinguish itself as something uniquely alien, largely thanks to artist, writer, and designer michael kirkbride
fittingly, you're a stranger — a foreigner, outlander, n'wah — tasked with observing and navigating the region, its factions and religions, and the splinter groups and fractured politics within them. if you follow the narrative throughline you'll be expected to gather some body of knowledge, but most of it is offered in the way of extracurricular research and after hours inquisition
it's a congruent approach that allows for as much or as little engagement with the absurd amount of subsurface lore and worldbuilding as possible. if you choose to delve you'll get stories full of contradictions, unreliable narrators, historical records, mythological yarns, rituals, poems, lusty argonian maids, and a guy who learned to wear heavy armour so well he could walk on his hands and fuck his wife without removing it. if you choose not to you can stick to the more utile texts like the red book of 3E 426 or dismiss everything altogether. you can go the whole game without knowing what a dwemer is, but you're covered: some folks don't know shit
really, you don't have to know or do anything. once off the boat you'll amble forward all sluggish and dim and likely spend most of your time wandering aimlessly, learning elaborate public transit routes, memorizing directions, and getting lost in vivec. while there's urgency to the main quest, more often than not it'll be sending you far and wide to hobnob, get the lay of the land, and delve into tombs and caverns
and therein lies the brick wall that fells many an adventurer: the combat. in a contentious swerve morrowind is the only game in the series that binds the success of basic attacks to dice rolls. your blade may look like it's passing through one of the dozen cliff racers that've chased you from sheogorad to the ascadian isles, but the outcome is up to chance — and chance is working against you in the early hours. on its face it's a bad decision; it inarguably feels worse than any other game in the series, but that's ultimately why it proves to be the correct one
morrowind has something of a hyperbolic power curve. odds are if you're new to the game you might make a build where rats are lethal, walking up a slight incline requires you to take a break, and your understanding of your weapon is fundamentally unsound in a way that shouldn't be possible. you're basically the biggest loser to ever grace tamriel, and after you meet jiub, sign your paperwork, and get lost finding caius cosades you'll probably find yourself poisoned, paralyzed, or worse. the beauty in this is how it enables a heightened level of contrast
by the end of the game you'll be soaring over the ghostgate adorned in Exquisite Shirts and Pants that eliminate fall damage and fatigue, wielding custom swords that siphon enemy agility ("malder's gait"), and hosting a gilgameshian hoard of artifacts so valuable you'll have to sell them to a crab just to get half the money they're worth. you'll become a living cartoon on some who framed roger rabbit or space jam shit, and the juxtaposition couldn't possibly be more satisfying — all because of those shitty fuckin dice rolls
morrowind is a journey, one that's as much about murking bureaucrats, finding a smoking hot telvani wife, getting called slurs, contracting a thousand diseases, and severing the threads of prophecy as it is being ""Nerevarine"" or anything else. for all its little flaws and idiosyncrasies it continues to creep up the list of my favourite games, and hell, I guess I love it
in the end after a hard fought victory I ended up back where I started: in caius cosades house, now stacked knee high with books, glass armours, boots of flying, sixth house trinkets, and a fire hazard's worth of odds and ends. in honour of my good friend the spymaster I decided to relax, hit the Good Skooma Pipe (Quality: 0.15), and get some rest...
I sure hope nothing weird happens with The Tribunal haha!!!
blows insane plume
2023
elaboration is disservice
2023
I didn't feel like editing all my notes so this one's coming in hot
the menus, ui/ux, and maps are nothing short of awful and the emphasis on fast travel, witcher vision, and waypoint markers make starfield one of the least convincing game worlds in recent memory. an endless sequence of vacuum sealed content boxes strung together by constant menus, loading screens, and teleporting, and bolstered on all sides by hundreds of procgen wastelands full of crafting junk
it's frustrating that there's something here I think I could like, but it's completely obstructed by design decisions that only make sense if your first and last priority is scale. aside from some dungeons and sidequests it feels like your only options are to be led by the nose like a dog or left to wander nothing areas for the rest of your life. a critical bug had me chasing my tail for over an hour on one of the essential planets and I was bored out of my brain so I can't imagine how sterile the non-essential ones must be
can't weigh in much on the RPG side of things cos I barely saw it in 10+ hours. it's like a cryptid where people keep swearing it exists but I'm still not convinced. can say that the dialogue options I've seen aren't too far off from the YES / YES (SARCASTIC) / NO (YES) we know and love from FO4 tho. writing doesn't go full head traumathis time around as quickly but everyone's a Quip Bastard or a block of wood so it's kinda six of one half a dozen of the other. the most memorable moment was when heller went chris dorner on the new atlantis police department unprovoked, but somehow I don't think that was what bethesda intended
perks/skills are as lifeless as expected. 10% more damage with shotguns or 10% damage with pistols or 10% damage with energy weapons or 10% damage with rifles or carry 10 more pounds or have 10% more health or..... zzzz
less I say about space and ship combat the better. everyone knows it wouldn't be better handled through a menu, but what this review presupposes is... maybe it would?
all in all it's a mess. bethesda's signature open world fractured and dashed across the stars; a marriage of some of the worst aspects of both pre and post morrowind eras with a slew of new unforced errors added to the mix. modders will fix what's fixable, I'll keep drinking that garbage, and the world will keep on turning
can't wait for skyrim 2
the menus, ui/ux, and maps are nothing short of awful and the emphasis on fast travel, witcher vision, and waypoint markers make starfield one of the least convincing game worlds in recent memory. an endless sequence of vacuum sealed content boxes strung together by constant menus, loading screens, and teleporting, and bolstered on all sides by hundreds of procgen wastelands full of crafting junk
it's frustrating that there's something here I think I could like, but it's completely obstructed by design decisions that only make sense if your first and last priority is scale. aside from some dungeons and sidequests it feels like your only options are to be led by the nose like a dog or left to wander nothing areas for the rest of your life. a critical bug had me chasing my tail for over an hour on one of the essential planets and I was bored out of my brain so I can't imagine how sterile the non-essential ones must be
can't weigh in much on the RPG side of things cos I barely saw it in 10+ hours. it's like a cryptid where people keep swearing it exists but I'm still not convinced. can say that the dialogue options I've seen aren't too far off from the YES / YES (SARCASTIC) / NO (YES) we know and love from FO4 tho. writing doesn't go full head trauma
perks/skills are as lifeless as expected. 10% more damage with shotguns or 10% damage with pistols or 10% damage with energy weapons or 10% damage with rifles or carry 10 more pounds or have 10% more health or..... zzzz
less I say about space and ship combat the better. everyone knows it wouldn't be better handled through a menu, but what this review presupposes is... maybe it would?
all in all it's a mess. bethesda's signature open world fractured and dashed across the stars; a marriage of some of the worst aspects of both pre and post morrowind eras with a slew of new unforced errors added to the mix. modders will fix what's fixable, I'll keep drinking that garbage, and the world will keep on turning
can't wait for skyrim 2
1992
convinced a generation of impressionable children to throw spears at each other and fuck up their friends with shadow kicks and ball breakers. it was hell on earth; some of them even played raiden
man if i were to rattle off the shit here that doesn't work you'd think I was gonna hit it with a score so far below sea level it'd resemble a skellige treasure chest
almost the entire mechanical backbone here's a write off: dozy combat that even death march can't wake up, detective bits that require ketchup and mustard vision, randomized loot, level scaled gear, and bogus character progression being but a sample of the bungled and fucked nature of the core experience. save for gwent — which I love with all my heart — there isn't a lot on this end that holds up to scrutiny
if TW1 was about being a witcher and TW2 was about not being a witcher, TW3 positions itself back toward a foggy approximation of the role — broader and less angular, more devoted to a holistic approach than the fine details of witching. rather than have you inhabit geralt through stances, investigations, research, and alchemical prepwork, it hopes its breadth can elevate it; that what's been lost can be made up for with its massive world and shift in storytelling
and it works? not so much with the main quest about supergirl and thedark eldar wild hunt (which is fuckin gunk), but just about everywhere else. turns out you can abstract the entire verbset into soft serve and still end up with a decent game if you got the writing, world building, and quest design to make up for it. the most ancient trick in the rpg book appears to be alive and well
but before that we gotta talk about the real shit: monsters
I love monsters like persona fans love the status quo. I love monsters like nerds love looking like this when they see 2B. ogres, trolls, centipede demons, sirens, kappas, demon walls, materia keepers, the doctors from dead ringers, street sharks, whatever man
I love monsters like jet fuel loves steel beams. I love draculas and werewolves and wanyudos and carly beth's haunted mask and that fucker from the end of onimusha warlords. I love lucy clifford's new mother and the thing and worms that walk and gelatinous cubes and black dogs and a cyclops. TW3 is the most monster ass monster game since TW1 and that's what it's all about. fakers and charlatans will tell you monster hunter takes the prize, but that's a game about killing animals buddy
if you thought I was actually gonna come back and ramble on about the writing and shit like some seventeen hour youtube video, think twice. you all know what the score is and know where you stand by now; you don't need me to tell you man is the monster, the art direction rules, and the attention to detail second to none. if it didn't take me five years to finish TW2 maybe I'd have some real juicy points to make but I know full well the level of discourse surrounding the game and choose to avail myself
I love monsters, I love gwent, I love the way the sidequests squirm and wriggle despite the staid limits of the systems and mechanics that house them. I love the gorgeous outfits and fabrics and the lush colour palette and the bestiary and geralt's bone dry quips and how they managed to make a game so frequently fuckin funny. I love everyone's jacked up teeth
first and last time I'll ever get ubipilled, savour it
almost the entire mechanical backbone here's a write off: dozy combat that even death march can't wake up, detective bits that require ketchup and mustard vision, randomized loot, level scaled gear, and bogus character progression being but a sample of the bungled and fucked nature of the core experience. save for gwent — which I love with all my heart — there isn't a lot on this end that holds up to scrutiny
if TW1 was about being a witcher and TW2 was about not being a witcher, TW3 positions itself back toward a foggy approximation of the role — broader and less angular, more devoted to a holistic approach than the fine details of witching. rather than have you inhabit geralt through stances, investigations, research, and alchemical prepwork, it hopes its breadth can elevate it; that what's been lost can be made up for with its massive world and shift in storytelling
and it works? not so much with the main quest about supergirl and the
but before that we gotta talk about the real shit: monsters
I love monsters like persona fans love the status quo. I love monsters like nerds love looking like this when they see 2B. ogres, trolls, centipede demons, sirens, kappas, demon walls, materia keepers, the doctors from dead ringers, street sharks, whatever man
I love monsters like jet fuel loves steel beams. I love draculas and werewolves and wanyudos and carly beth's haunted mask and that fucker from the end of onimusha warlords. I love lucy clifford's new mother and the thing and worms that walk and gelatinous cubes and black dogs and a cyclops. TW3 is the most monster ass monster game since TW1 and that's what it's all about. fakers and charlatans will tell you monster hunter takes the prize, but that's a game about killing animals buddy
if you thought I was actually gonna come back and ramble on about the writing and shit like some seventeen hour youtube video, think twice. you all know what the score is and know where you stand by now; you don't need me to tell you man is the monster, the art direction rules, and the attention to detail second to none. if it didn't take me five years to finish TW2 maybe I'd have some real juicy points to make but I know full well the level of discourse surrounding the game and choose to avail myself
I love monsters, I love gwent, I love the way the sidequests squirm and wriggle despite the staid limits of the systems and mechanics that house them. I love the gorgeous outfits and fabrics and the lush colour palette and the bestiary and geralt's bone dry quips and how they managed to make a game so frequently fuckin funny. I love everyone's jacked up teeth
first and last time I'll ever get ubipilled, savour it
2019
real fun as usual, but these levels are killing me. I understand people who want actual levels in these kinda action games lost that fight a long time ago, but can you at least make them look pretty or something? I got a nightcap on and I'm yawning cartoonishly cos I've been staring at this fuck ugly tree for so long. I'm out here snoozing in a game where you can dual wield a motorcycle and give sin scissors a funny little hat
can't help but miss the vestigial resident evil bits and the weird kamiya + mikami -isms that itsuno sands down further and further with each subsequent entry. no doubt this is the best the combat's ever been, but DMC was never only about the combat no matter what weirdos whose favourite fighting game maps are the training stages tell you. I wanna do the Smokin Sexy Stuff and explore a gothic castle or tower or something with a reasonable amount of atmospheric oomph, I don't wanna hang out in butthole corridors for half the game
hard to talk about why the combat rules in a compelling fashion, or even some gross approximation of one. always struggle to put that kinetic verve into words and find a way to emphasize the heft of a blade or the timing of rating increase's sound effect. much like music criticism I think a lot of the text deployed in service of something so fundamentally felt seems ill at odds with the feeling itself. many have sought to obliterate language's stranglehold and biases on human experience and I can't help but think that's the proper lawful good instinct
just rest assured it's best in class
nero's a full character now, dante has never been more dante, and as many growing pains as I had with V I ended up really vibing with him by the end of my Dante Must Die run. don't mistake me for a zato sympathizer but despite his gameplay being comparatively shallow there's a satisfaction to the resource management and spacing elements that I find gratifying. learning the golem rhythm is a lot of fun once you're given good reason to bother and while I never graduated from the school of "make the bird do the held attacks while manually controlling the cat" I like the energy it gives off. plus I looked just like V when I was sixteen so
good game, but I'm gonna have some words for itsuno if he doesn't treat lady better next time
can't help but miss the vestigial resident evil bits and the weird kamiya + mikami -isms that itsuno sands down further and further with each subsequent entry. no doubt this is the best the combat's ever been, but DMC was never only about the combat no matter what weirdos whose favourite fighting game maps are the training stages tell you. I wanna do the Smokin Sexy Stuff and explore a gothic castle or tower or something with a reasonable amount of atmospheric oomph, I don't wanna hang out in butthole corridors for half the game
hard to talk about why the combat rules in a compelling fashion, or even some gross approximation of one. always struggle to put that kinetic verve into words and find a way to emphasize the heft of a blade or the timing of rating increase's sound effect. much like music criticism I think a lot of the text deployed in service of something so fundamentally felt seems ill at odds with the feeling itself. many have sought to obliterate language's stranglehold and biases on human experience and I can't help but think that's the proper lawful good instinct
just rest assured it's best in class
nero's a full character now, dante has never been more dante, and as many growing pains as I had with V I ended up really vibing with him by the end of my Dante Must Die run. don't mistake me for a zato sympathizer but despite his gameplay being comparatively shallow there's a satisfaction to the resource management and spacing elements that I find gratifying. learning the golem rhythm is a lot of fun once you're given good reason to bother and while I never graduated from the school of "make the bird do the held attacks while manually controlling the cat" I like the energy it gives off. plus I looked just like V when I was sixteen so
good game, but I'm gonna have some words for itsuno if he doesn't treat lady better next time
2023
my good friend morris requested I write a review for this after she bought it for me so I'm going to review it for my friend. she has tried to influence this review and stifle my creative voice, but I do not bend under pressure
orbo is a person but also a projectile weapon. his body is the arrow that is drawn against all evil such as draculas. pull the string taut and cast him unto enemies, cast him into the heavens, cast him with aim true and noble and climb skyscrapers and caves and other normal places bald people tend to hang out in
slide your body around like the godless physics object it is. shuffle your corporeal meat around like you're an enemy in yakuza kiwami 2. hurl and spike and spring your doomed mortal form just to feel something. stave off entropy and nihilism thru reckless, impulsive behaviour
on this wretched earth one must have the conviction to whip their bulging corpus unto hell like orbo. one must "collect the orbs" and forge an arm both strong and utile in order to open doors and attain true autonomy
orbo is a person but also a projectile weapon. his body is the arrow that is drawn against all evil such as draculas. pull the string taut and cast him unto enemies, cast him into the heavens, cast him with aim true and noble and climb skyscrapers and caves and other normal places bald people tend to hang out in
slide your body around like the godless physics object it is. shuffle your corporeal meat around like you're an enemy in yakuza kiwami 2. hurl and spike and spring your doomed mortal form just to feel something. stave off entropy and nihilism thru reckless, impulsive behaviour
on this wretched earth one must have the conviction to whip their bulging corpus unto hell like orbo. one must "collect the orbs" and forge an arm both strong and utile in order to open doors and attain true autonomy
1999
I love shinji mikami but I gotta say
damn bitch, you made this?
they called this shit "panic horror" and boy I'm panicking — panicking that there might be another god awful pipe puzzle from the twisted mind of shu takumi or that once I'm done collecting two of every keycard under the sun someone might ask me to build an ark
with little interest in horror or combat dino crisis bets it all on sludgy adventure game tedium and loses. it might've worked better if there was even a hint of resident evil's unhinged charisma — the weird doors, weird keys, bonkers architecture etc — but what's here is crushingly dull from top to bottom
if it wasn't for the narrative branching and crafting system I'd be hitting it with the chicxulub impactor grade extinction score it otherwise deserves, but I gotta acknowledge how cool that stuff waswhen RE3 made good on it later that year
reading more into the development I found that not only did shu takumi design all the puzzles, he served as the game's director before being fired after throwing the team into "uncalled for confusion" due to his lack of experience. kamiya and takumi corroborate this with the former referring to takumi as the game's director to this day and the latter alluding to mikami's role as being that of a fixer — someone brought in to get the project back on rails after much of the game had been already established
I love shu takumi but I gotta say
damn bitch, you made this?
damn bitch, you made this?
they called this shit "panic horror" and boy I'm panicking — panicking that there might be another god awful pipe puzzle from the twisted mind of shu takumi or that once I'm done collecting two of every keycard under the sun someone might ask me to build an ark
with little interest in horror or combat dino crisis bets it all on sludgy adventure game tedium and loses. it might've worked better if there was even a hint of resident evil's unhinged charisma — the weird doors, weird keys, bonkers architecture etc — but what's here is crushingly dull from top to bottom
if it wasn't for the narrative branching and crafting system I'd be hitting it with the chicxulub impactor grade extinction score it otherwise deserves, but I gotta acknowledge how cool that stuff was
reading more into the development I found that not only did shu takumi design all the puzzles, he served as the game's director before being fired after throwing the team into "uncalled for confusion" due to his lack of experience. kamiya and takumi corroborate this with the former referring to takumi as the game's director to this day and the latter alluding to mikami's role as being that of a fixer — someone brought in to get the project back on rails after much of the game had been already established
I love shu takumi but I gotta say
damn bitch, you made this?
2016
about ten years ago I was goin thru a crosswalk when a car sped from behind, narrowly missed me, and drove full speed into the side of a house. I didn't see shit cos my back was turned, but the sound it made was otherworldly — impossible to describe
thumper trades in that kind of inexplicable catastrophic energy: a series of collisions in staccato; moments of grisly impact sped up, slowed down, and looped on repeat like endlessly rewound homemade horror tapes
monolithic droning violence that goes on & on til it takes the form of a numbing agent, delivered thru increasingly off kilter time signatures, railway tracks that churn and coil in on themselves, and a haunted windows media player visualizer aesthetic
its stubborn insistence on stretching a single tonal idea into a homogeneous sprawl won't be for everyone, but I can't imagine it any other way
something like this should feel like it lasts forever
thumper trades in that kind of inexplicable catastrophic energy: a series of collisions in staccato; moments of grisly impact sped up, slowed down, and looped on repeat like endlessly rewound homemade horror tapes
monolithic droning violence that goes on & on til it takes the form of a numbing agent, delivered thru increasingly off kilter time signatures, railway tracks that churn and coil in on themselves, and a haunted windows media player visualizer aesthetic
its stubborn insistence on stretching a single tonal idea into a homogeneous sprawl won't be for everyone, but I can't imagine it any other way
something like this should feel like it lasts forever
1992
kirby's been my favourite little nintendo dude since smash bros first let me suck up my opponent and hurl us both to our doom, but I never spent much time with their games. that's gonna change... this could be the year of the kirb
despite the lack of colour, kirby's dream land feels vibrant; bursting with jubilant charm. so well realized thru expressive spritework and sound design that the limitations of the gameboy's colour palette seem to melt away
very short + syrupy sweet, it packs about as many imaginative ideas as possible in the 30~ minutes it takes to finish a standard run. from the distinct air mobility, to the iconic suck, to warping on stars, hollering into microphones, spitting fire, doing synchronized dances, dropping bombs, fighting an STG boss, and being shot into the clouds by a whale — kirby arrives remarkably fully formed, and does so with an abundance of trademark chaotic whimsy
while power thieving would end up being the final piece that brought the character together, it's hard not to think of this as a resounding success — a sugar rush that hits on everything it intends to and then leaves as quick as it arrived. my limited exposure to subsequent games tells me it only gets better from here, but here is a pretty lovely place to be too
bye-bye
despite the lack of colour, kirby's dream land feels vibrant; bursting with jubilant charm. so well realized thru expressive spritework and sound design that the limitations of the gameboy's colour palette seem to melt away
very short + syrupy sweet, it packs about as many imaginative ideas as possible in the 30~ minutes it takes to finish a standard run. from the distinct air mobility, to the iconic suck, to warping on stars, hollering into microphones, spitting fire, doing synchronized dances, dropping bombs, fighting an STG boss, and being shot into the clouds by a whale — kirby arrives remarkably fully formed, and does so with an abundance of trademark chaotic whimsy
while power thieving would end up being the final piece that brought the character together, it's hard not to think of this as a resounding success — a sugar rush that hits on everything it intends to and then leaves as quick as it arrived. my limited exposure to subsequent games tells me it only gets better from here, but here is a pretty lovely place to be too
bye-bye
1993
hazier, sillier, and more playful than dream land, adventure takes an expansive approach to the nascent formula and adds the finishing touches necessary to elevate it even higher, doubling down on its unique personality, design philosophy, and impeccable style
the key addition here's the power snatching, but what really makes it pop is how the levels and encounters are so often built with it in mind: big zones with lots of optional interactions, secrets, and possibilities you'd never encounter on your first go, and never ever ever if you weren't explicitly meeting the game half way and inhabiting its joyful spirit
the laid back difficulty makes stuff like turning into a fucked up wheel and zooming around all haphazard feel encouraged; its lack of imposition an invitation to take chances and experiment in ways a harsher game might discourage or outright prohibit. you're given no reason not to treat every situation like a canvas, to muck about and to proceed without consequence with the reward being "play" at its most earnest and wide eyed
"you're gonna be just fine", sakurai whispers in my ear as I send my dumb ass down the same chasm for the third time in a row in case it's different this time
feeling cute, might turn into a UFO later; might light a wick and shoot myself out of cannon; might make dedede feed me dozens of eggs as punishment for getting smoked at quick draw. as much as you've seen, it never loses its ability to skirt familiarity and catch you off guard
there's a lot of slowdown here, but if shoot em ups taught me anything it's that slowdown just means you're probably looking at something too fuckin sick. this is for your protection; you're experiencing mercy; the human brain isn't equipped for this kind of stimuli
it may feel like smoke's about to billow from the cartridge slot at any moment, but hal laboratory deserves to burn down your landlord's apartment — it's just common sense
anyway: I was wrong in thinking dedede should be put to the guillotine, and if you need me I'll be in the yogurt yard, eating lollipops and giving metaknight's goons german suplexes
tonight dream land will sleep well
the key addition here's the power snatching, but what really makes it pop is how the levels and encounters are so often built with it in mind: big zones with lots of optional interactions, secrets, and possibilities you'd never encounter on your first go, and never ever ever if you weren't explicitly meeting the game half way and inhabiting its joyful spirit
the laid back difficulty makes stuff like turning into a fucked up wheel and zooming around all haphazard feel encouraged; its lack of imposition an invitation to take chances and experiment in ways a harsher game might discourage or outright prohibit. you're given no reason not to treat every situation like a canvas, to muck about and to proceed without consequence with the reward being "play" at its most earnest and wide eyed
"you're gonna be just fine", sakurai whispers in my ear as I send my dumb ass down the same chasm for the third time in a row in case it's different this time
feeling cute, might turn into a UFO later; might light a wick and shoot myself out of cannon; might make dedede feed me dozens of eggs as punishment for getting smoked at quick draw. as much as you've seen, it never loses its ability to skirt familiarity and catch you off guard
there's a lot of slowdown here, but if shoot em ups taught me anything it's that slowdown just means you're probably looking at something too fuckin sick. this is for your protection; you're experiencing mercy; the human brain isn't equipped for this kind of stimuli
it may feel like smoke's about to billow from the cartridge slot at any moment, but hal laboratory deserves to burn down your landlord's apartment — it's just common sense
anyway: I was wrong in thinking dedede should be put to the guillotine, and if you need me I'll be in the yogurt yard, eating lollipops and giving metaknight's goons german suplexes
tonight dream land will sleep well