faea
507 Reviews liked by faea
We were young, and we were still learning. Coming into our own, yet still not quite there.
The second generation was much like some of us who had experienced the series from the beginning as bright eyed and optimistic children. Maturing, finding our footing in life, and trying to figure things out for what we really wanted out of our future. Do we continue onward with our current path and continue developing our skill? Are we seeking to make a career of said skill? Those drawings bearing a similar crudeness to generation one sprites that we etched on the back of our tests, those little characters that you made from your own two hands and the ocean of your imagination. They would need to be refined, perhaps to the point you would be sick of seeing them again through the months and months of practice. We struck gold on something we were good at, but were we ready to make this our life? How do we get ready for life? Would we even make it to that path we dreamed of?
For us, this was the sequel. A sequel to childhood, and the path to maturity.
If we were to get ready for life, we would need to learn how to maintain a schedule and utilize a form of communication to keep in touch with our contacts. Through our little battery-powered clock in our cartridges, we kept track of the time of day in order to search for different friends on different paths. We would remember what day it was, so we could participate in a bug catching contest and try to find that Scyther. If we couldn't get up in the morning early enough to catch a Ledyba, what good were we in participating in life? It was at this point we were starting to get into the thick of things, we weren't children anymore, but teenagers who aspired to be more like adults. We were excited of all that upcoming opportunity that would only be granted to us with age, and with that age in due time came responsibility and expectations to provide. Life would soon not be all about fun anymore.
It was soon time to grow up, and perhaps move away from home to master our craft elsewhere...
It's hard however to leave behind everything that you grew up with. We traveled to Johto to learn how to better ourselves, perhaps like the bike shop owner who got unlucky on their new shop placement in Goldenrod, but for us it wasn't truly home. We would long for our old pals, our old hangout spots, and our favorite order from our childhood fast food place. We desired a return trip home to Kanto, so we can say hello to everybody one last time before we begin our life's career. Home however, wasn't quite the same as we had remembered. Forests were chopped down, caves were cleared out, and Lavender Town's place of remembrance had been converted into a radio tower. Kanto has changed, or has it matured like us? Resources have been plundered for practical use over the thoughts of those who had lived there, and spirituality has been pushed to the side in the name of technological advancement. Have we lost our way, or is this what is to be expected of us in the future?
When I finally climb this mountain and end this visit home, what will await me at it's peak?
The last lingering strand of childhood I had left made manifest, the past me armed with the very first friends I had made on this adventure. If I must let go of the past, I must defeat the longing memories of what once was. Even if I were victorious, will the memories finally rest or will they continue pursuing me? With the destruction of the past, we make way for the future. This is the way. This is the way we grow up. We no longer have room for trifling matters such as our childhood friends, memories, or the places we once held dear. It's time to make way for adulthood and to only go forward without ever looking back. Home is no longer home, it's no longer even a memory for us, it was thrown back into the toybox where it belonged. With this we continue our adventure elsewhere, and we leave everything behind. It was a fad, and it's time to bury those McDonalds toys and trading cards in a box or sell them off in a yard sale.
It was never to be the same again, for we have both grown up. Us now simple mature adults, and them a fully-realized juggernaut of a franchise with no end in sight. We've defeated our childhood, there was no reason to keep going with this series obviously geared towards what we had grown out of. We could take a peek once in a while to check on them when they make the television, but we would do so with a look over our shoulder to try and maintain our mask of adulthood and maturity. It was time to only watch mature programming, and play mature games while doing other such mature things, like swearing while our parents weren't around. This is what is expected of us now, it's time to leave it behind to the next generation who will grow with the next set of games, whom may also leave once they have grown past it....with another generation to follow.....and the cycle repeats....
My time was over, much like Kanto and the Game Boy, but despite what life and middle school demanded of me, I would never be too far away.
I am home, I always have been.
The second generation was much like some of us who had experienced the series from the beginning as bright eyed and optimistic children. Maturing, finding our footing in life, and trying to figure things out for what we really wanted out of our future. Do we continue onward with our current path and continue developing our skill? Are we seeking to make a career of said skill? Those drawings bearing a similar crudeness to generation one sprites that we etched on the back of our tests, those little characters that you made from your own two hands and the ocean of your imagination. They would need to be refined, perhaps to the point you would be sick of seeing them again through the months and months of practice. We struck gold on something we were good at, but were we ready to make this our life? How do we get ready for life? Would we even make it to that path we dreamed of?
For us, this was the sequel. A sequel to childhood, and the path to maturity.
If we were to get ready for life, we would need to learn how to maintain a schedule and utilize a form of communication to keep in touch with our contacts. Through our little battery-powered clock in our cartridges, we kept track of the time of day in order to search for different friends on different paths. We would remember what day it was, so we could participate in a bug catching contest and try to find that Scyther. If we couldn't get up in the morning early enough to catch a Ledyba, what good were we in participating in life? It was at this point we were starting to get into the thick of things, we weren't children anymore, but teenagers who aspired to be more like adults. We were excited of all that upcoming opportunity that would only be granted to us with age, and with that age in due time came responsibility and expectations to provide. Life would soon not be all about fun anymore.
It was soon time to grow up, and perhaps move away from home to master our craft elsewhere...
It's hard however to leave behind everything that you grew up with. We traveled to Johto to learn how to better ourselves, perhaps like the bike shop owner who got unlucky on their new shop placement in Goldenrod, but for us it wasn't truly home. We would long for our old pals, our old hangout spots, and our favorite order from our childhood fast food place. We desired a return trip home to Kanto, so we can say hello to everybody one last time before we begin our life's career. Home however, wasn't quite the same as we had remembered. Forests were chopped down, caves were cleared out, and Lavender Town's place of remembrance had been converted into a radio tower. Kanto has changed, or has it matured like us? Resources have been plundered for practical use over the thoughts of those who had lived there, and spirituality has been pushed to the side in the name of technological advancement. Have we lost our way, or is this what is to be expected of us in the future?
When I finally climb this mountain and end this visit home, what will await me at it's peak?
The last lingering strand of childhood I had left made manifest, the past me armed with the very first friends I had made on this adventure. If I must let go of the past, I must defeat the longing memories of what once was. Even if I were victorious, will the memories finally rest or will they continue pursuing me? With the destruction of the past, we make way for the future. This is the way. This is the way we grow up. We no longer have room for trifling matters such as our childhood friends, memories, or the places we once held dear. It's time to make way for adulthood and to only go forward without ever looking back. Home is no longer home, it's no longer even a memory for us, it was thrown back into the toybox where it belonged. With this we continue our adventure elsewhere, and we leave everything behind. It was a fad, and it's time to bury those McDonalds toys and trading cards in a box or sell them off in a yard sale.
It was never to be the same again, for we have both grown up. Us now simple mature adults, and them a fully-realized juggernaut of a franchise with no end in sight. We've defeated our childhood, there was no reason to keep going with this series obviously geared towards what we had grown out of. We could take a peek once in a while to check on them when they make the television, but we would do so with a look over our shoulder to try and maintain our mask of adulthood and maturity. It was time to only watch mature programming, and play mature games while doing other such mature things, like swearing while our parents weren't around. This is what is expected of us now, it's time to leave it behind to the next generation who will grow with the next set of games, whom may also leave once they have grown past it....with another generation to follow.....and the cycle repeats....
My time was over, much like Kanto and the Game Boy, but despite what life and middle school demanded of me, I would never be too far away.
I am home, I always have been.
Hades
2018
only so many times I can go thru the same floors with the same enemies and the same bosses and the same weapons and the same everythings. for something so lauded I expected some variety. I'm sure some bozo will tell me "umm actually curse, there's six billion lines of bespoke artisinal stone baked dialogue" but you can blow it out your ass if the whole thing's contingent on slaving away in the metalayer currency mines for hours on end
every room seems to go on forever man. imagine if in isaac or monolith you cleared a room and then it filled back up with the same shit five more times. what the fuck guys? you have like four enemies per zone, you don't need to rub it in. is the expectation that I'm basking and luxuriating in these encounters? I'm not. I'm bored before I hit the third floor
maybe it gets better once I suck up to every NPC and collect all the gizmos and upgrade the weapons and upgrade the dungeon and upgrade the shop and upgrade the trinkets and fill out my pokedex, but I'll never know. I fuck with greek mythology when it's about cronus eating his kids and perseus cutting heads and severed testicles goin in the sea, but I don't think I'm the target audience for this kinda snarky post-tumblr young adult stuff. I'm glad folks like jacking off to it, I guess?
probably beats playing it!
every room seems to go on forever man. imagine if in isaac or monolith you cleared a room and then it filled back up with the same shit five more times. what the fuck guys? you have like four enemies per zone, you don't need to rub it in. is the expectation that I'm basking and luxuriating in these encounters? I'm not. I'm bored before I hit the third floor
maybe it gets better once I suck up to every NPC and collect all the gizmos and upgrade the weapons and upgrade the dungeon and upgrade the shop and upgrade the trinkets and fill out my pokedex, but I'll never know. I fuck with greek mythology when it's about cronus eating his kids and perseus cutting heads and severed testicles goin in the sea, but I don't think I'm the target audience for this kinda snarky post-tumblr young adult stuff. I'm glad folks like jacking off to it, I guess?
probably beats playing it!
Felvidek
2024
A game made with much love in RPG-maker, I had a great time with Felvidek. The humor is top notch, and the graphics are absolutely gorgeous, especially during the cutscenes. I loved the environment and the fight style, and really loved having an RPG party with a 15th-century priest helping you fight. There was lots of humor involving the time period, including jokes at the past's expense, that I felt played pretty well. 15th-century Slovakia is interesting because well, there was no Slovakia! The area was probably under Hungarian rule at this point (...maybe German, who knows), with threat from the Ottoman's eventually taking over as well. It's a topic brought up often in the game, and I feel it makes Felvidek even cooler! Not only does it focus on an uncommon setting for a video game, but it focuses on a precise group within the time-period on top of it all.
The music is great, the art is gorgeous, and the gameplay is fun! Check Felvidek out if you can, it's a very strong game released into the 2024 pool that's worth checking out if you're interested in playing some indie goodies from this year.
3.5/5
The music is great, the art is gorgeous, and the gameplay is fun! Check Felvidek out if you can, it's a very strong game released into the 2024 pool that's worth checking out if you're interested in playing some indie goodies from this year.
3.5/5
Final Fantasy XVI
2023
The fifth best Final Fantasy XIV expansion, a modern Final Fantasy IV: Final Fantasy XVI is a game that I understand why people like it, but I cannot really conceive of how somebody would love this game. And don't let me stop you from loving it if you truly do, there's certainly moments of beauty within FFXVI that feel meant for somebody with much different sensibilities than I, it just remains a pretty thoroughly underwhelming affair to me personally -- both in what the game promises and in what it fails to deliver.
Mechanically adequate, systemically superfluous, and structurally mundane, but where Final Fantasy XVI really fucks up is with its thoughtlessly derivative narrative and dull characters. The way CBU3 have plucked concepts, backstories, and characterizations from popular shows like Game of Thrones isn't necessarily the worst thing they could do on the face of it, it's just how little those aspects end up mattering outside of being familiar tropes that the player can quickly identify. The same could be said for the game's attempt at a more serious tone with a focus on geopolitical affairs. The game starts off with two sequences that are almost identical to ASOIAF/GoT's Winterfell introduction, which is then followed by a Red Wedding-esque event to make sure you understand how fucked up this world really is. Except, that's kinda where everything stops being like that, they copied GRRM's homework, now it's time to be Final Fantasy!
Which like, if they wanted to copy Game of Thrones, you'd think they'd be a little more confident about it. Like, the way Final Fantasy II, Final Fantasy IV, and Final Fantasy VI cop shit from Star Wars (and I guess a bit of Dune and LotR) feels like expert craftsmanship in comparison, because they also fairly accurately replicate the tone of space operas (just, you know, in the form of pseudo-sci-fi medieval fantasy). They sort of try to keep up with the underlying geopolitics aspect throughout the game, but it mostly falls apart by the end and Valisthea never really ends up feeling like a real place to me. So post-GoT-esque intro, the first third of the game's tone plays out like a more linear, bootleg Witcher 3, in a kind of unflattering way.
The remaining two-thirds of the game do feel pretty distinctly Final Fantasy (with a pretty weak undercurrent of half-baked Matsuno-isms) with structure identical to a Final Fantasy XIV expansion. The latter aspect was comforting at first since I kinda enjoy the simplicity of a fresh FF14 expansion, but it's easily the worst part about the moment-to-moment experience of Final Fantasy XVI, making the game much more prolonged -- and much of it being coated with the tasteless grey sludge of live service content creation habits -- than it really needed to be during its most important narrative escalations. The former aspect is what keeps the experience feeling adequate, but it really just doesn't do enough to differentiate itself from most of the series in terms of character dynamics, overarching themes, and fantasy elements. Really feel like most people who aren't allergic to turn-based combat are better off playing Final Fantasy IX or VI for most of the stuff XVI is trying to pull off. There's even this point where the characters decide to embark on this Final Fantasy V/Final Fantasy VII-esque quest to save the environment, and that also just kind of goes nowhere as the game buckles under concept bloat and is wordlessly replaced with a different thing later on.
The funniest part is the last third of the game is so clearly bogged down in its own bullshit that they had to add this NPC that feels like she was ripped out of Dragon Age Inquisition or something to explain the plot to the player because there isn't actually enough deliverable gameplay moments or constructive skits to bookend all the threads the game has set up by this point. I guess it's more disappointing than funny in the end, there were moments in FFXVI that made me wanna feel that it's all somehow worth it, but so much of it is just unearned or passively malicious in what it's conveying to the player.
The thing that almost makes the whole experience worth it -- a pretty common opinion -- is def the eikon fights, though I can understand if they're too spread apart and too mechanically fluffy for somebody who wants more substantial action gameplay to sink their teeth into. They're carried by their presentation and spectacle, as the gameplay interaction ends up feeling pretty junk food-y, but fuck they rule. Even the one towards the end that everybody I hates, I love that one too! Though maybe it's because I'm permanently a sucker for CBU3's boss encounter design, even if it's gotten a little stale in Final Fantasy XIV itself lately.
The combat design might be another story unfortunately, like, it's not bad, I actually kind like it because I have the issue with my brain where I enjoy performing class rotations in MMOs, but slapping that kinda shit onto DMC5-lite was not the move I think. There's just not enough going on here to be having a cooldown-based system integrated with kinda barebones action gameplay, and I don't think the individual eikon abilities themselves are interesting or cohesive enough to make up for the lack of both strategy and truly engaging action. Glad to see the stagger system here, but I kind of almost would've preferred if CBU3 had copied even more from the FF13/FF7R dev team's combat ideas.
The game is clearly designed around the fact that you can only play as Clive, and it only adds to that dynamism that's sorely lacking from most of the characters; if you're not going to show me enough of who these characters are in the cutscenes themselves, you could at least communicate it through gameplay, like other games in the series do. Clive's solipsistic streak feels pretty fucking forced compared to protags like Zidane or Cloud, Clive is just way too fucking reasonable of a dude most of the time I don't really buy it! And that's fine, I like having nice protagonists sometimes, but they spend the entire game trying to convince he's this brooding lone wolf! It doesn't help that in the game's pursuit of copying and pasting elements from other FFs, it also steals their mistakes: like Clive's main motivating factor being resolved like 5 hours into the game just like Cecil in FF4 and forgetting to make any of the women actually characters, also like Final Fantasy IV.
Like, I wanna say on average Jill is better written than FF4 Rosa, but at least you get to play as Rosa! Sure, both Jill and Rosa are treated as fragile baby birds who are forced to stay at home while the men go fight, but at least Rosa gets to defy that notion when it counts. It's just kinda pathetic what's happened here, like, CBU3 doesn't have an amazing track record with women characters, but at least they do get to do things and have individual motivations for participating in the story in Final Fantasy XIV. Even compared to the FF14 expansion that preceded the start of FF16's development, Heavensward, it feels notably regressive.
It'd be bad enough if it stopped there, but the two other women in the main cast are probably treated even worse. The first one's whole characterization is how she manipulates men with sex to gain power, with the writers using threat of SA as a motivating factor for her transformation into an eikon. Actually fucking vile! They even just straight up copy a panel from Berserk! And the other one's main character trait is she's an evil mom (basically just Cersei Lannister without any of the actual interesting parts). There's one secondary woman character towards the back half of the narrative who's probs the only woman with a personality, which is a shame! Jill especially had a lot of potential as at least Clive's best friend and confidant, and it's just wasted on a character who sits there and placidly stares while bloodlessly agreeing with everything Clive says and does. They can't even make her interesting as an extension of Clive, let alone as a person with actual interiority.
I don't really hate Final Fantasy XVI as much as this review would make you believe: I love adventures and I love action RPGs, and it does a pretty decent job of both. It's "comfy", but it could've been so much more with the kind of talent that Square and CBU3 have on hand, but consistently have failed to utilize to their fullest, outside of maybe Shadowbringers. Like the soundtrack is the best microcosm of all of this; Soken has an insane pedigree, and while his work here is mostly high quality, it feels like his strengths are being misutilized to adhere to a specific vision that maybe should've gotten a few more complete redraftings. Final Fantasy XVI half-heartedly commits to aesthetic ideals and tropes that were already outdated years before it released, in a way that feels almost Final Fantasy, but is ultimately never really elevated into its own cohesive identity.
Anyways, play Asura's Wrath instead. It's got the same misogyny per capita, but it's basically like if you cut out all the rest of the bad parts of Final Fantasy XVI and then also made it way cooler at the same time. 'Star Wars x Fist of the North Star x Buddhism and Hinduism' clears 'Spark Notes of A Song of Ice and Fire books 1 thru 3 x Buzzfeed Article History of Final Fantasy Series' any day.
Mechanically adequate, systemically superfluous, and structurally mundane, but where Final Fantasy XVI really fucks up is with its thoughtlessly derivative narrative and dull characters. The way CBU3 have plucked concepts, backstories, and characterizations from popular shows like Game of Thrones isn't necessarily the worst thing they could do on the face of it, it's just how little those aspects end up mattering outside of being familiar tropes that the player can quickly identify. The same could be said for the game's attempt at a more serious tone with a focus on geopolitical affairs. The game starts off with two sequences that are almost identical to ASOIAF/GoT's Winterfell introduction, which is then followed by a Red Wedding-esque event to make sure you understand how fucked up this world really is. Except, that's kinda where everything stops being like that, they copied GRRM's homework, now it's time to be Final Fantasy!
Which like, if they wanted to copy Game of Thrones, you'd think they'd be a little more confident about it. Like, the way Final Fantasy II, Final Fantasy IV, and Final Fantasy VI cop shit from Star Wars (and I guess a bit of Dune and LotR) feels like expert craftsmanship in comparison, because they also fairly accurately replicate the tone of space operas (just, you know, in the form of pseudo-sci-fi medieval fantasy). They sort of try to keep up with the underlying geopolitics aspect throughout the game, but it mostly falls apart by the end and Valisthea never really ends up feeling like a real place to me. So post-GoT-esque intro, the first third of the game's tone plays out like a more linear, bootleg Witcher 3, in a kind of unflattering way.
The remaining two-thirds of the game do feel pretty distinctly Final Fantasy (with a pretty weak undercurrent of half-baked Matsuno-isms) with structure identical to a Final Fantasy XIV expansion. The latter aspect was comforting at first since I kinda enjoy the simplicity of a fresh FF14 expansion, but it's easily the worst part about the moment-to-moment experience of Final Fantasy XVI, making the game much more prolonged -- and much of it being coated with the tasteless grey sludge of live service content creation habits -- than it really needed to be during its most important narrative escalations. The former aspect is what keeps the experience feeling adequate, but it really just doesn't do enough to differentiate itself from most of the series in terms of character dynamics, overarching themes, and fantasy elements. Really feel like most people who aren't allergic to turn-based combat are better off playing Final Fantasy IX or VI for most of the stuff XVI is trying to pull off. There's even this point where the characters decide to embark on this Final Fantasy V/Final Fantasy VII-esque quest to save the environment, and that also just kind of goes nowhere as the game buckles under concept bloat and is wordlessly replaced with a different thing later on.
The funniest part is the last third of the game is so clearly bogged down in its own bullshit that they had to add this NPC that feels like she was ripped out of Dragon Age Inquisition or something to explain the plot to the player because there isn't actually enough deliverable gameplay moments or constructive skits to bookend all the threads the game has set up by this point. I guess it's more disappointing than funny in the end, there were moments in FFXVI that made me wanna feel that it's all somehow worth it, but so much of it is just unearned or passively malicious in what it's conveying to the player.
The thing that almost makes the whole experience worth it -- a pretty common opinion -- is def the eikon fights, though I can understand if they're too spread apart and too mechanically fluffy for somebody who wants more substantial action gameplay to sink their teeth into. They're carried by their presentation and spectacle, as the gameplay interaction ends up feeling pretty junk food-y, but fuck they rule. Even the one towards the end that everybody I hates, I love that one too! Though maybe it's because I'm permanently a sucker for CBU3's boss encounter design, even if it's gotten a little stale in Final Fantasy XIV itself lately.
The combat design might be another story unfortunately, like, it's not bad, I actually kind like it because I have the issue with my brain where I enjoy performing class rotations in MMOs, but slapping that kinda shit onto DMC5-lite was not the move I think. There's just not enough going on here to be having a cooldown-based system integrated with kinda barebones action gameplay, and I don't think the individual eikon abilities themselves are interesting or cohesive enough to make up for the lack of both strategy and truly engaging action. Glad to see the stagger system here, but I kind of almost would've preferred if CBU3 had copied even more from the FF13/FF7R dev team's combat ideas.
The game is clearly designed around the fact that you can only play as Clive, and it only adds to that dynamism that's sorely lacking from most of the characters; if you're not going to show me enough of who these characters are in the cutscenes themselves, you could at least communicate it through gameplay, like other games in the series do. Clive's solipsistic streak feels pretty fucking forced compared to protags like Zidane or Cloud, Clive is just way too fucking reasonable of a dude most of the time I don't really buy it! And that's fine, I like having nice protagonists sometimes, but they spend the entire game trying to convince he's this brooding lone wolf! It doesn't help that in the game's pursuit of copying and pasting elements from other FFs, it also steals their mistakes: like Clive's main motivating factor being resolved like 5 hours into the game just like Cecil in FF4 and forgetting to make any of the women actually characters, also like Final Fantasy IV.
Like, I wanna say on average Jill is better written than FF4 Rosa, but at least you get to play as Rosa! Sure, both Jill and Rosa are treated as fragile baby birds who are forced to stay at home while the men go fight, but at least Rosa gets to defy that notion when it counts. It's just kinda pathetic what's happened here, like, CBU3 doesn't have an amazing track record with women characters, but at least they do get to do things and have individual motivations for participating in the story in Final Fantasy XIV. Even compared to the FF14 expansion that preceded the start of FF16's development, Heavensward, it feels notably regressive.
It'd be bad enough if it stopped there, but the two other women in the main cast are probably treated even worse. The first one's whole characterization is how she manipulates men with sex to gain power, with the writers using threat of SA as a motivating factor for her transformation into an eikon. Actually fucking vile! They even just straight up copy a panel from Berserk! And the other one's main character trait is she's an evil mom (basically just Cersei Lannister without any of the actual interesting parts). There's one secondary woman character towards the back half of the narrative who's probs the only woman with a personality, which is a shame! Jill especially had a lot of potential as at least Clive's best friend and confidant, and it's just wasted on a character who sits there and placidly stares while bloodlessly agreeing with everything Clive says and does. They can't even make her interesting as an extension of Clive, let alone as a person with actual interiority.
I don't really hate Final Fantasy XVI as much as this review would make you believe: I love adventures and I love action RPGs, and it does a pretty decent job of both. It's "comfy", but it could've been so much more with the kind of talent that Square and CBU3 have on hand, but consistently have failed to utilize to their fullest, outside of maybe Shadowbringers. Like the soundtrack is the best microcosm of all of this; Soken has an insane pedigree, and while his work here is mostly high quality, it feels like his strengths are being misutilized to adhere to a specific vision that maybe should've gotten a few more complete redraftings. Final Fantasy XVI half-heartedly commits to aesthetic ideals and tropes that were already outdated years before it released, in a way that feels almost Final Fantasy, but is ultimately never really elevated into its own cohesive identity.
Anyways, play Asura's Wrath instead. It's got the same misogyny per capita, but it's basically like if you cut out all the rest of the bad parts of Final Fantasy XVI and then also made it way cooler at the same time. 'Star Wars x Fist of the North Star x Buddhism and Hinduism' clears 'Spark Notes of A Song of Ice and Fire books 1 thru 3 x Buzzfeed Article History of Final Fantasy Series' any day.
They fully leaned into the millennial cute cat memetics, and honestly, it sort of works. It's a very cute game that doesn't really try to do much else aside from being cute. And that's alright.
I do feel that these kinda of cutesy/wholesomy kind of games often ends up feeling a bit substance-less and fast food-y; And LKBC isn't immune to that; but honestly, that's also fine. I was reading a tweet by the devs about how they made sure that the game didn't have anything scary or morbid in it, because they wanted very young children to be able to enjoy it, and I think that's cool and good.
I unno, it's short and cute and I enjoyed it and I wish I could have a cat but I'm not allowed one in my apartment.
I am not immune to cataganda.
I do feel that these kinda of cutesy/wholesomy kind of games often ends up feeling a bit substance-less and fast food-y; And LKBC isn't immune to that; but honestly, that's also fine. I was reading a tweet by the devs about how they made sure that the game didn't have anything scary or morbid in it, because they wanted very young children to be able to enjoy it, and I think that's cool and good.
I unno, it's short and cute and I enjoyed it and I wish I could have a cat but I'm not allowed one in my apartment.
I am not immune to cataganda.
Justice for All is widely agreed on to be the weakest of the Ace Attorney trilogy, for reasons I can understand. It only contains four cases out of the typical five, for one. The first case being a tutorial and the third, infamously, being brought down by the pedophile love triangle plotline. For all of that though, it still introduces incredibly important developments for the series; premiering Fransizka and finishing with the much revered Farewell, my Turnabout
As a child this was easily the least influential game for me, I absolutely could not STAND Fransizka and none of the cases stood out to me much. Now though, I definitely feel more positive about it. I still dont have much attraction for the 1st and 3rd cases but I'm pretty impressed by the overall implications the events in this game have over the rest of the series. In a way, some of it feels partly like a set up for T&T, especially the happenings with Morgan and Pearl. But heres where we start getting smarter and more thoroughly crafted cases, psyche locks also being an intresting way to interact with and progress characters outside of court. As a kid I think I preferred Maya, but honestly Pearl is very endearing and a delight to have as an assistant. Her being more "mature" than her cousin despite her age introduces a lot of funny situations and also reinforces my belief that 9 year old girls are the greatest force on the planet. Mimi Miney and Acro are two of my favorite killers in the trilogy, and I thought Mimi's situation in the 2nd case specifically was very cleverly thought out.
Unfortunately this game (all of the trilogy, really) has some bad habits which annoyed me in JFA particularly. One is just straight up showing you who the killer is- if not in the opening cutscene then just at a random point throughout the case. The other is withholding all developement until you present a random item/profile to a character- despite the fact that you may have already discussed said item with said character 2 or 3 times but you havent ACTUALLY unlocked the conversation topic for it until you show them. And it is very easy go forget what you should be showing whom as theres no way to keep track of dialouge, so that can be a tad frustrating.
Farewell, my Turnabout is a huge bombshell in terms of the logic of the series and opens up a lot of questions that it is still answering. Mainly, what it means to be a defense lawyer and what the search for truth actually looks like, if the law can even uphold that standard, and how to make the right decision within that confinement. Watching Phoenix grow throughout the game from being an anxious rookie to a genuine attorney is important, but it's really only evident through the developments in this case as his and Miles' relationship is reestablished. Miles himself has grown into the character we more or less remember him as, and in a world where prosecutors hate your guts, it is very refreshing to watch a dynamic where the two work together and mesh with each other so easily. Because of the game's length, Fransizka tended to be sidelined a great deal of the time (being the only prosecutor to not even have her own theme), but she did get her moments throughout case 4 that made my heart hurt a little. Especially the post credits scene which had me tearing up a bit at the end, it is a huge shame we dont really see more of her throughout JFA and T&T because I adore her and she should be treated better.
Overall I'm kind of just happy to finally be playing T&T now, and while I wouldnt risk it all dying on the hill of defending JFA- it IS still a very good and important game to the Ace Attorney series regardless of how much you may want to hang Trilo upsidedown by his feet and force feed him milk till he pukes.
umm, like... how do I close out a review? I kind of, like, forgot. Sorry.
As a child this was easily the least influential game for me, I absolutely could not STAND Fransizka and none of the cases stood out to me much. Now though, I definitely feel more positive about it. I still dont have much attraction for the 1st and 3rd cases but I'm pretty impressed by the overall implications the events in this game have over the rest of the series. In a way, some of it feels partly like a set up for T&T, especially the happenings with Morgan and Pearl. But heres where we start getting smarter and more thoroughly crafted cases, psyche locks also being an intresting way to interact with and progress characters outside of court. As a kid I think I preferred Maya, but honestly Pearl is very endearing and a delight to have as an assistant. Her being more "mature" than her cousin despite her age introduces a lot of funny situations and also reinforces my belief that 9 year old girls are the greatest force on the planet. Mimi Miney and Acro are two of my favorite killers in the trilogy, and I thought Mimi's situation in the 2nd case specifically was very cleverly thought out.
Unfortunately this game (all of the trilogy, really) has some bad habits which annoyed me in JFA particularly. One is just straight up showing you who the killer is- if not in the opening cutscene then just at a random point throughout the case. The other is withholding all developement until you present a random item/profile to a character- despite the fact that you may have already discussed said item with said character 2 or 3 times but you havent ACTUALLY unlocked the conversation topic for it until you show them. And it is very easy go forget what you should be showing whom as theres no way to keep track of dialouge, so that can be a tad frustrating.
Farewell, my Turnabout is a huge bombshell in terms of the logic of the series and opens up a lot of questions that it is still answering. Mainly, what it means to be a defense lawyer and what the search for truth actually looks like, if the law can even uphold that standard, and how to make the right decision within that confinement. Watching Phoenix grow throughout the game from being an anxious rookie to a genuine attorney is important, but it's really only evident through the developments in this case as his and Miles' relationship is reestablished. Miles himself has grown into the character we more or less remember him as, and in a world where prosecutors hate your guts, it is very refreshing to watch a dynamic where the two work together and mesh with each other so easily. Because of the game's length, Fransizka tended to be sidelined a great deal of the time (being the only prosecutor to not even have her own theme), but she did get her moments throughout case 4 that made my heart hurt a little. Especially the post credits scene which had me tearing up a bit at the end, it is a huge shame we dont really see more of her throughout JFA and T&T because I adore her and she should be treated better.
Overall I'm kind of just happy to finally be playing T&T now, and while I wouldnt risk it all dying on the hill of defending JFA- it IS still a very good and important game to the Ace Attorney series regardless of how much you may want to hang Trilo upsidedown by his feet and force feed him milk till he pukes.
umm, like... how do I close out a review? I kind of, like, forgot. Sorry.
a few months ago I told backloggd D:OS was better than D:OS2. my heart and my best intentions still tell me that's true, but the facts and the evidence tell me it is not
you can expect my apology video shortly, I'm just looking for the right breed of dog to bring out the full flavour of how sorry I am
you can expect my apology video shortly, I'm just looking for the right breed of dog to bring out the full flavour of how sorry I am
Today is my birthday! And for such an occasion, me and my bestie are playing through the Ace Attorney trilogy, in what is the first revisit I've had to the original games since I was a child
Anyone who knows me knows the importance the AA trilogy had in my early years. As an adult, I'm somewhat forced to view the game in a different manner, but I can also now look back to see the purpose this held to me, in the past. To be a child in the western world is to be ignored, I think. Especially a child like me who could understand these things more than most. Adults play little lords who can offer no refuge from the agony they bring, purposeful or not. It always seemed to me that everyone was making base mistakes that I could never fathom, that reflected off them and burned into me because children have no say in anything that goes on around them. And I could never understand their actions- I could never understand the screaming, I could never understand the deeply ingrained violence, I never understood why no one listened or could even parse things that were immediately obvious to me. Or why no one felt spurred to change. For years, I just ghosted the world feeling like one big tear all the time, very alone, but I would rather be alone than be with people like that. But I never forgot it, the extreme frustration of being that child. The child who is forced into situations with no voice and no autonomy, getting punished when I myself could not say anything back, lashing out and being unable to convey my desperation. Its pure bile and anger to be there.
I had so many feelings and thoughts about this growing up, the above can only be a tame simplification of many years of displacement. But one day, I caught a glimpse of a weird lawyer game on my shitty little ipod's app store in 2013, and things kind of changed. As I played, suddenly, I could see what it was like to have a voice. I could see what it was like to have friends, to find a family. I was introduced to a manner of things through Ace Attorney, a new manner of thought even, which at the time felt very cathartic to me. It reinforced a conviction that I've held since I could remember and I could see myself a little in it, sometimes. It was a comforting space. As an adult who knows more about the world than I did then, the writing isnt so mind-blowingly fantastic. But boy, as a child was it sure fucking incredible. To shout your objections and have pure, undeniable proof of what you meant at terrible people who otherwise would never see it. It was the spark of that more than the actual meat of it.
As for this game itself, it's more about what it did for me rather than what it is. To encourage thinking for ones self, to encourage that faith in an informed conviction. And that which fueled my fire for creative work, that I am still drawimg today. I talked about this a lot in my aai2 review, and I will talk about it again, but the introduction of Miles Edgeworth resonated with me so much back then. Who doesnt want to watch their shitty father bash their head into a wall- but that meant so much to me then. Actually, I forgot that this character largely introduced the concept of homosexuality to me. I would have figured myself out sooner or later, as I would with all these things, but at the very least I finished this game back then with an appreciation for a masculine demeanor and a strong need for a fitted suit.
I'm kind of rambling, and not well, but its my birthday so I'm allowed to. In present times, I'm noticing many spelling errors and sometimes a lacking of tone. And sometimes I feel like it relies too much on a joke so that the whole thing comes off as clowny, but I also feel like it might just be the english translation that made things this way. This was the first of its kind after all, and I've seen how the series has grown, so I can cut it some slack. Turnabout Goodbyes and Rise from the Ashes are still fantastic cases, and what's been even more fun than running down memory lane is watching my best friend experiencing it with me for the first time. I cant explain how much I absolutely love every piece of these games, though. They feel like a part of me, and I'm fairly proud of that. Its been a blast, and I cant wait to rediscover the rest of the series again.
Dont forget DL-6!
Anyone who knows me knows the importance the AA trilogy had in my early years. As an adult, I'm somewhat forced to view the game in a different manner, but I can also now look back to see the purpose this held to me, in the past. To be a child in the western world is to be ignored, I think. Especially a child like me who could understand these things more than most. Adults play little lords who can offer no refuge from the agony they bring, purposeful or not. It always seemed to me that everyone was making base mistakes that I could never fathom, that reflected off them and burned into me because children have no say in anything that goes on around them. And I could never understand their actions- I could never understand the screaming, I could never understand the deeply ingrained violence, I never understood why no one listened or could even parse things that were immediately obvious to me. Or why no one felt spurred to change. For years, I just ghosted the world feeling like one big tear all the time, very alone, but I would rather be alone than be with people like that. But I never forgot it, the extreme frustration of being that child. The child who is forced into situations with no voice and no autonomy, getting punished when I myself could not say anything back, lashing out and being unable to convey my desperation. Its pure bile and anger to be there.
I had so many feelings and thoughts about this growing up, the above can only be a tame simplification of many years of displacement. But one day, I caught a glimpse of a weird lawyer game on my shitty little ipod's app store in 2013, and things kind of changed. As I played, suddenly, I could see what it was like to have a voice. I could see what it was like to have friends, to find a family. I was introduced to a manner of things through Ace Attorney, a new manner of thought even, which at the time felt very cathartic to me. It reinforced a conviction that I've held since I could remember and I could see myself a little in it, sometimes. It was a comforting space. As an adult who knows more about the world than I did then, the writing isnt so mind-blowingly fantastic. But boy, as a child was it sure fucking incredible. To shout your objections and have pure, undeniable proof of what you meant at terrible people who otherwise would never see it. It was the spark of that more than the actual meat of it.
As for this game itself, it's more about what it did for me rather than what it is. To encourage thinking for ones self, to encourage that faith in an informed conviction. And that which fueled my fire for creative work, that I am still drawimg today. I talked about this a lot in my aai2 review, and I will talk about it again, but the introduction of Miles Edgeworth resonated with me so much back then. Who doesnt want to watch their shitty father bash their head into a wall- but that meant so much to me then. Actually, I forgot that this character largely introduced the concept of homosexuality to me. I would have figured myself out sooner or later, as I would with all these things, but at the very least I finished this game back then with an appreciation for a masculine demeanor and a strong need for a fitted suit.
I'm kind of rambling, and not well, but its my birthday so I'm allowed to. In present times, I'm noticing many spelling errors and sometimes a lacking of tone. And sometimes I feel like it relies too much on a joke so that the whole thing comes off as clowny, but I also feel like it might just be the english translation that made things this way. This was the first of its kind after all, and I've seen how the series has grown, so I can cut it some slack. Turnabout Goodbyes and Rise from the Ashes are still fantastic cases, and what's been even more fun than running down memory lane is watching my best friend experiencing it with me for the first time. I cant explain how much I absolutely love every piece of these games, though. They feel like a part of me, and I'm fairly proud of that. Its been a blast, and I cant wait to rediscover the rest of the series again.
Dont forget DL-6!
This review contains spoilers
I recently played Sephonie, a 3D Platformer by Analgesic Productions. This was partially due to my familiarity with Analgesic’s previous games, including Anodyne 2. Familiarity is underplaying it though, because around 3 years ago, I would’ve called Anodyne 2 my favorite game. In fact, wanting to write a review of this game is part of why I joined this website in the first place. As time went on, my thoughts on the game slowly degraded for multiple reasons, but I still held it in high regard. When I started playing Sephonie, I inevitably began to think about Anodyne 2, and I felt a need to replay it. I couldn’t help but wonder how my perception of the game would change three years removed.
The game remains great, and even occasionally brilliant. It follows Nova, who shrinks down and cleans dangerous nanodust from the insides of people. This cleaning saves people from corruption, and Nova moves on to help other people in need. That’s how it starts at least; The plot soon becomes an allegory for faith, structure, and purpose, where Nova gains more perspective on nanodust and the greater world. Combine this with mix of 3D exploration and top-down dungeons, sprinkle in some quirkiness, and add a dash of progressive themes, and that’s basically Anodyne 2. Now, this may seem akin to many indie games: games that mean well but execute their concepts confusedly and amateurishly. Honestly, that’s how I’d describe some other Analgesic’s games. However, this game nails what matters most. I’d be lying if I called the 3D exploration incredible, as it’s mostly carried by atmospheric, alien locations. Optional collectibles and fun character interactions don’t make up for the lack of environmental interaction and compelling puzzles or platforming. Even as an overworld for the top-down dungeons, the 3D world feels far too sparse given the breadth of the environments. The car transformation and late-game fast travel somewhat rectify this issue, but only somewhat.
The excellent top-down Zelda-esque sections do the heavy lifting here. The Zelda comparison isn’t entirely apt, as you don’t get a bunch of new items throughout the games. No, Nova mainly just uses a vacuum cleaner, sucking up items and enemies a la Kirby’s Dream Land (Side note, going from a broom in the first game to a vacuum cleaner here is funny). The game gets a lot of mileage out of this, constructing really fun puzzles and combat scenarios. The efficiency with which this game establishes and expands on concepts surprises me; It does a lot with little, and the game respects the player’s ability to figure mechanics out for themselves. The initially simple dungeons with straightforward mechanics and stories eventually give way to more wacky and varied levels, with one being a parody of classic RPGs. This high-quality design is accompanied by a narrative justification for the shift from 2D -> 3D: Nova is “Shrinking” the resolution of the game while she shrinks in size. Tons of indie games mash two genres together, but few make sense of such a combination the way Anodyne 2 does.
I have a few benign complaints about the 2D gameplay. The lack of difficulty hurts my enjoyment a bit. I’ll assume the leisure with which I finished the game is due to it being a second playthrough (And also me being good at videogames). Regardless, the plentiful checkpoints mean I never felt much of a threat, even in the rare occasions when my health did diminish. The other issue I have is more of a missed opportunity related to the titular dust. Dust gates progression, but you can’t really hold that much, and depositing it requires backtracking. Again, this is usually merely benign (Unless you go for the ‘bad’ ending, where you need to collect tons of dust), but having that dust just sit there made me think about how it could’ve been used for other gameplay purposes. The concept of channeling dust is mentioned, but the gameplay implications of this were extremely minor. An extra use for dust could’ve been really interesting, especially considering how often it sits in the player’s tank.
The story makes no effort to hide its messages of seeking purpose and meaning, but I consider it a compelling story regardless. The narrative is supported by some good character progression and decent twists. Nora initially sees the benefits of structure and believing in an inherent purpose, but later realizes finding your own purpose can also be fulfilling. In the ‘good’ ending, Nova rejects her purpose given to her by the Center, a representation of Leaders\Religion. It’s a pretty solid story overall, although I admit that most of what I enjoy comes down to specific concepts and moments. One of the highlights comes midway through the game. Palisade, a mother figure of sorts to Nova, creates a playground for Nova and dies soon after. Eventually Nova finds this playground and assumes that it’s meant to train her. The concept of having fun is alien to her; everything has an inherent meaning, even random dice rolls. This moment does a great job of characterizing Nova and representing the game’s themes
One initially inconspicuous section compels me more than any other in the game. You meet a ‘bugged’ NPC, and upon shrinking down and entering this NPC, you see the story of Nora, who exists in what seems to be the real world. In this section, the game implies that the main story is simply Nora escaping the problems of her life by playing a videogame, only exercising freedom in fantasy. This compelling extra layer looks at the escapist nature of games, and the happy ending of the game now seems to almost be a red herring.
Unfortunately, the dialogue often undercuts what should just speak for itself. Nora starts talking about minimum wage at one point and I’m just sitting here thinking, “Ok, sure, but does this need to be here?” There’s one section of the story that’s conceptually excellent: Nova tries to help a rock guy who blindly commits to a purpose and pays the price. This sets up the idea that blindly following a purpose isn’t always a good idea, which the game later expands on. However, the dialogue hammers this idea in way too hard. Even worse, this dialogue can’t be skipped. The game literally puts up progression gates that only go down once you talk to all the people. This would be obnoxious for even the best writing. The game takes the ‘Tell don’t show’ approach far too often, and this approach often hurts otherwise impactful story beats. Excess aside, the dialogue can be hit-and-miss, regardless of if it aims for drama or comedy. Often it leans too far into self-indulgence and quirk, briefly becoming that indie game stereotype I described at the beginning. The best jokes and story beats are told visually. There’s some graffiti that reads “Environmental Storytelling” earlier on. In the aforementioned JRPG Parody, the game makes fun of the way staircases are presented in Dragon Quest games. There’s an announcer that’s a spider named ‘Announci’, a joke I only picked up on this playthrough. None of these gags are forced on the player, which means even the occasional annoying dialogue from an NPC is bearable. I suppose this strength of optional content and dialogue fits, since Anodyne 2 explores free will and finding your own purpose…
These themes of freedom and finding purpose are characterized on a gameplay level by Metacoins. Metacoins can be collected in the 3D Areas (And occasionally in 2D levels), and you can buy various items with them. However, what if you wanted to get all of them? There’s not much of a reason, but what if you just really wanted to? Well, you gotta look hard. In fact, you have to go beyond the bounds of reality. Many of these coins are hidden in walls and out of bounds. To get them, you have to glitch the game. For a game going against what you’re ‘supposed’ to do, this concept somehow balances being both logical and insane. This optional sidequest that appears halfway through the game remains the best part of the 3D gameplay. Make of that what you will. Despite my love for this game, I never ended up getting every single coin. I looked online too, but considering this game’s obscurity, I could find little. Honestly though, I love the sense of mystery in this game. Metacoins aside, there’s a lot of weird optional stuff here, much of which reveals itself in the post-game. Nowadays I try to avoid guides for games as much as possible, and I think this game’s sense of mystery may have contributed to this habit. In that spirit of mystery, I won’t spoil anything about what the post-game has to offer.
Analgesic spoiled us with the audiovisuals though. This game released around the time low-poly visuals were making a resurgence, and I do enjoy the visual style despite some issues. Some locations look great, but others are muddled and dull. Could this have been an intentional homage to the actual visuals of the time? Maybe, but if so, the game’s very selective in its faithfulness. It’s also worth noting that cutscenes, assuming they don’t play out with still images or in dialogue, lack pretty much any unique animations; Characters will stand in their idle animations and talk. Yes, this game was made by a small team, but the lack of animation distracted me nonetheless. The 2D sections generally look better on a surface level, and the visuals often nicely tie into a character’s psyche. However, 2D or 3D sections, the music always resonates with me. The audio balances style and substance beautifully; I can tell if a song is from this game, but the compositions have a great range regardless.
Replaying this game was fun. Not just because it’s a great game, but also because it makes me think about how I’ve changed. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder if part of why I identified with this game’s story so much was the fact that I struggled with what my purpose should be as well. I played this game the same month I graduated from High School. I started college months later, not necessarily because I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but because that’s what people expected me to do. For the same reason, I considered going into a medical career. Having something present that dilemma of purpose probably vindicated me. Nowadays though, I have a much better idea of what I want to do with my life. I enjoy learning about Math in College, I’m more confident in myself, and I’ve even made friends and stuff. I’m not perfect of course, but who is…
I’ve never really bought into the notion that certain experiences with art are invalid. Even if a game was made with a specific audience in mind, people outside that audience deserve a voice. Good stories should at least be entertaining or compelling for people who don’t personally relate to the main character. Anodyne 2 certainly targets an audience, but it also houses good gameplay, an interesting story, and great music. This game isn’t a 10/10 masterpiece, and I’m hesitant to rate it 9/10 either. However, even three years later I had a great time, and that’s enough for me. My numerical rating doesn’t matter much at the end of the day; I can’t imagine this review would actually convince many people to play the game. It's being posted on a fairly obscure website by an even more obscure user. It’s basically a useless review. However, I wrote it because I wanted it to exist. Does this review really need a purpose? That question resonates even more for my review from three years ago. That poorly written, dated review doesn’t really serve a purpose, but it represents who I was back then. Shouldn’t that person, flaws and all, still be allowed to exist? I think so.
The game remains great, and even occasionally brilliant. It follows Nova, who shrinks down and cleans dangerous nanodust from the insides of people. This cleaning saves people from corruption, and Nova moves on to help other people in need. That’s how it starts at least; The plot soon becomes an allegory for faith, structure, and purpose, where Nova gains more perspective on nanodust and the greater world. Combine this with mix of 3D exploration and top-down dungeons, sprinkle in some quirkiness, and add a dash of progressive themes, and that’s basically Anodyne 2. Now, this may seem akin to many indie games: games that mean well but execute their concepts confusedly and amateurishly. Honestly, that’s how I’d describe some other Analgesic’s games. However, this game nails what matters most. I’d be lying if I called the 3D exploration incredible, as it’s mostly carried by atmospheric, alien locations. Optional collectibles and fun character interactions don’t make up for the lack of environmental interaction and compelling puzzles or platforming. Even as an overworld for the top-down dungeons, the 3D world feels far too sparse given the breadth of the environments. The car transformation and late-game fast travel somewhat rectify this issue, but only somewhat.
The excellent top-down Zelda-esque sections do the heavy lifting here. The Zelda comparison isn’t entirely apt, as you don’t get a bunch of new items throughout the games. No, Nova mainly just uses a vacuum cleaner, sucking up items and enemies a la Kirby’s Dream Land (Side note, going from a broom in the first game to a vacuum cleaner here is funny). The game gets a lot of mileage out of this, constructing really fun puzzles and combat scenarios. The efficiency with which this game establishes and expands on concepts surprises me; It does a lot with little, and the game respects the player’s ability to figure mechanics out for themselves. The initially simple dungeons with straightforward mechanics and stories eventually give way to more wacky and varied levels, with one being a parody of classic RPGs. This high-quality design is accompanied by a narrative justification for the shift from 2D -> 3D: Nova is “Shrinking” the resolution of the game while she shrinks in size. Tons of indie games mash two genres together, but few make sense of such a combination the way Anodyne 2 does.
I have a few benign complaints about the 2D gameplay. The lack of difficulty hurts my enjoyment a bit. I’ll assume the leisure with which I finished the game is due to it being a second playthrough (And also me being good at videogames). Regardless, the plentiful checkpoints mean I never felt much of a threat, even in the rare occasions when my health did diminish. The other issue I have is more of a missed opportunity related to the titular dust. Dust gates progression, but you can’t really hold that much, and depositing it requires backtracking. Again, this is usually merely benign (Unless you go for the ‘bad’ ending, where you need to collect tons of dust), but having that dust just sit there made me think about how it could’ve been used for other gameplay purposes. The concept of channeling dust is mentioned, but the gameplay implications of this were extremely minor. An extra use for dust could’ve been really interesting, especially considering how often it sits in the player’s tank.
The story makes no effort to hide its messages of seeking purpose and meaning, but I consider it a compelling story regardless. The narrative is supported by some good character progression and decent twists. Nora initially sees the benefits of structure and believing in an inherent purpose, but later realizes finding your own purpose can also be fulfilling. In the ‘good’ ending, Nova rejects her purpose given to her by the Center, a representation of Leaders\Religion. It’s a pretty solid story overall, although I admit that most of what I enjoy comes down to specific concepts and moments. One of the highlights comes midway through the game. Palisade, a mother figure of sorts to Nova, creates a playground for Nova and dies soon after. Eventually Nova finds this playground and assumes that it’s meant to train her. The concept of having fun is alien to her; everything has an inherent meaning, even random dice rolls. This moment does a great job of characterizing Nova and representing the game’s themes
One initially inconspicuous section compels me more than any other in the game. You meet a ‘bugged’ NPC, and upon shrinking down and entering this NPC, you see the story of Nora, who exists in what seems to be the real world. In this section, the game implies that the main story is simply Nora escaping the problems of her life by playing a videogame, only exercising freedom in fantasy. This compelling extra layer looks at the escapist nature of games, and the happy ending of the game now seems to almost be a red herring.
Unfortunately, the dialogue often undercuts what should just speak for itself. Nora starts talking about minimum wage at one point and I’m just sitting here thinking, “Ok, sure, but does this need to be here?” There’s one section of the story that’s conceptually excellent: Nova tries to help a rock guy who blindly commits to a purpose and pays the price. This sets up the idea that blindly following a purpose isn’t always a good idea, which the game later expands on. However, the dialogue hammers this idea in way too hard. Even worse, this dialogue can’t be skipped. The game literally puts up progression gates that only go down once you talk to all the people. This would be obnoxious for even the best writing. The game takes the ‘Tell don’t show’ approach far too often, and this approach often hurts otherwise impactful story beats. Excess aside, the dialogue can be hit-and-miss, regardless of if it aims for drama or comedy. Often it leans too far into self-indulgence and quirk, briefly becoming that indie game stereotype I described at the beginning. The best jokes and story beats are told visually. There’s some graffiti that reads “Environmental Storytelling” earlier on. In the aforementioned JRPG Parody, the game makes fun of the way staircases are presented in Dragon Quest games. There’s an announcer that’s a spider named ‘Announci’, a joke I only picked up on this playthrough. None of these gags are forced on the player, which means even the occasional annoying dialogue from an NPC is bearable. I suppose this strength of optional content and dialogue fits, since Anodyne 2 explores free will and finding your own purpose…
These themes of freedom and finding purpose are characterized on a gameplay level by Metacoins. Metacoins can be collected in the 3D Areas (And occasionally in 2D levels), and you can buy various items with them. However, what if you wanted to get all of them? There’s not much of a reason, but what if you just really wanted to? Well, you gotta look hard. In fact, you have to go beyond the bounds of reality. Many of these coins are hidden in walls and out of bounds. To get them, you have to glitch the game. For a game going against what you’re ‘supposed’ to do, this concept somehow balances being both logical and insane. This optional sidequest that appears halfway through the game remains the best part of the 3D gameplay. Make of that what you will. Despite my love for this game, I never ended up getting every single coin. I looked online too, but considering this game’s obscurity, I could find little. Honestly though, I love the sense of mystery in this game. Metacoins aside, there’s a lot of weird optional stuff here, much of which reveals itself in the post-game. Nowadays I try to avoid guides for games as much as possible, and I think this game’s sense of mystery may have contributed to this habit. In that spirit of mystery, I won’t spoil anything about what the post-game has to offer.
Analgesic spoiled us with the audiovisuals though. This game released around the time low-poly visuals were making a resurgence, and I do enjoy the visual style despite some issues. Some locations look great, but others are muddled and dull. Could this have been an intentional homage to the actual visuals of the time? Maybe, but if so, the game’s very selective in its faithfulness. It’s also worth noting that cutscenes, assuming they don’t play out with still images or in dialogue, lack pretty much any unique animations; Characters will stand in their idle animations and talk. Yes, this game was made by a small team, but the lack of animation distracted me nonetheless. The 2D sections generally look better on a surface level, and the visuals often nicely tie into a character’s psyche. However, 2D or 3D sections, the music always resonates with me. The audio balances style and substance beautifully; I can tell if a song is from this game, but the compositions have a great range regardless.
Replaying this game was fun. Not just because it’s a great game, but also because it makes me think about how I’ve changed. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder if part of why I identified with this game’s story so much was the fact that I struggled with what my purpose should be as well. I played this game the same month I graduated from High School. I started college months later, not necessarily because I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but because that’s what people expected me to do. For the same reason, I considered going into a medical career. Having something present that dilemma of purpose probably vindicated me. Nowadays though, I have a much better idea of what I want to do with my life. I enjoy learning about Math in College, I’m more confident in myself, and I’ve even made friends and stuff. I’m not perfect of course, but who is…
I’ve never really bought into the notion that certain experiences with art are invalid. Even if a game was made with a specific audience in mind, people outside that audience deserve a voice. Good stories should at least be entertaining or compelling for people who don’t personally relate to the main character. Anodyne 2 certainly targets an audience, but it also houses good gameplay, an interesting story, and great music. This game isn’t a 10/10 masterpiece, and I’m hesitant to rate it 9/10 either. However, even three years later I had a great time, and that’s enough for me. My numerical rating doesn’t matter much at the end of the day; I can’t imagine this review would actually convince many people to play the game. It's being posted on a fairly obscure website by an even more obscure user. It’s basically a useless review. However, I wrote it because I wanted it to exist. Does this review really need a purpose? That question resonates even more for my review from three years ago. That poorly written, dated review doesn’t really serve a purpose, but it represents who I was back then. Shouldn’t that person, flaws and all, still be allowed to exist? I think so.
Ico
2012
Ico is the type of game I dread to play, critically acclaimed, landmark classic of the medium, influenced various games and designers I love. I dread playing those because of a fear I have, a fear that's come true : I don't like ICO, in fact, I think I might hate ICO. And now I will have to carry that like a millstone around my neck, "that asshole who doesn't like ICO". Its not even really that external disapproval I dread, its the very reputation that causes me to second guess my own sincerely held opinions. I thought I liked minimalism in game design, and cut-scene light storytelling and relationships explored through mechanics but I guess I don't. There's some kinda dissonance, cognitive or otherwise reading reviews by friends and writers I respect and wondering if there's something wrong with me or if I didnt get it or played it wrong or any other similar foolishness that gets bandied around in Internet discussions. "I wish we could have played the same game" I think, reading my mutuals' reviews of ICO. Not in a dismissive asshole way of accusing them of having a warped perception, but moreso in frustration that I didnt have the experience that has clearly touched them and countless others.
But enough feeling sorry for myself/being insecure, what is my problem with ICO exactly? I don't really know. Genuinely. I wasnt even planning on writing a review originally because all it would come down to as my original unfiltered reaction would be "Playing it made me miserable". Thankfully the upside of minimalism in game design is that its easier to identify which elements didnt work for me because there are few in the game. I think the people who got the most out of ICO developed some kind of emotional connection to Yorda, and thats one aspect which absolutely didn't work for me. As nakedly "gamey" and transparently artificial as Fallout New Vegas' NPCs (and Skyrim and F3 etc) locking the camera to have a dialogue tree, they read to me as infinitely more human than the more realistic Yorda; for a few reasons. Chief among them is that despite some hiccups and bugs the game is known for, you are not asked to manage them as a gameplay mechanic beyond your companions and well, my main interaction with Yorda was holding down R1 to repeatedly yell "ONG VA!" so she'd climb down the fucking ladder. She'd climb down, get halfway through and then decide this was a bad idea and ascend again.
ICO has been to me a game of all these little frustrations piling up. Due to the nature of the puzzles and platforming, failing them was aggravating and solving them first try was merely unremarkable. It makes me question again, what is the value of minimalism genuinely? There was a point at which I had to use a chain to jump across a gap and I couldnt quite make it, I thought "well, maybe theres a way to jump farther" and started pressing buttons randomly until the circle button achieved the result of letting me use momentum to swing accross. Now, if instead a non-diegetic diagram of the face buttons had shown up on the HUD instead what would have been lost? To me, very little. Sure, excessive direction can be annoying and take me out of the game, but pressing buttons randomly did the same, personally. Nor did "figuring it out for myself" feel particularly fulfilling. Thats again what I meant, victories are unremarkable and failures are frustrating. The same can be said for the combat which, honestly I liked at first. I liked how clumsy and childish the stick flailing fighting style was, but ultimately it involved hitting the enemies over and over and over and over again until they stopped spawning. Thankfully you can run away at times and rush to the exit to make the enemies blow up but the game's habit of spawning them when you're far from Yorda or maybe when she's on a different platform meant that I had to rely on her stupid pathfinding to quickly respond (which is just not going to happen, she needs like 3 business days to execute the same thing we've done 5k times already, I guess the language barrier applies to pattern recognition as well somehow) and when it inevitably failed I would have to jump down and mash square until they fucked off.
I can see the argument that this is meant to be disempowering somehow but I don't really buy it. Your strikes knock these fuckers down well enough, they just keep getting back up. Ico isnt strong, he shouldnt be able to smite these wizard of oz monkeys with a single swing, but then why can they do no damage to ICO and get knocked down flat with a couple swings? Either they are weak as hell but keep getting remotely CPRd by the antagonist or they're strong but have really poor balance. In the end, all I could really feel from ICO was being miserable. I finished the game in 5 hours but it felt twice that. All I can think of now is that Im glad its done and I can tick it off the bucket list. I am now dreading playing shadow of the colossus even harder, and I don't think I ever want to play The Last Guardian, it just looks like ICO but even more miserable. I'm sure I've outed myself as an uncultured swine who didnt get the genius of the experience and will lose all my followers but I'm too deflated to care. If there is one positive to this experience is that I kept procrastinating on finishing the game that I got back into reading. I read The Name of the Rose and Rumble Fish, pretty good reads. Im going to read Winesburg Ohio next I think.
But enough feeling sorry for myself/being insecure, what is my problem with ICO exactly? I don't really know. Genuinely. I wasnt even planning on writing a review originally because all it would come down to as my original unfiltered reaction would be "Playing it made me miserable". Thankfully the upside of minimalism in game design is that its easier to identify which elements didnt work for me because there are few in the game. I think the people who got the most out of ICO developed some kind of emotional connection to Yorda, and thats one aspect which absolutely didn't work for me. As nakedly "gamey" and transparently artificial as Fallout New Vegas' NPCs (and Skyrim and F3 etc) locking the camera to have a dialogue tree, they read to me as infinitely more human than the more realistic Yorda; for a few reasons. Chief among them is that despite some hiccups and bugs the game is known for, you are not asked to manage them as a gameplay mechanic beyond your companions and well, my main interaction with Yorda was holding down R1 to repeatedly yell "ONG VA!" so she'd climb down the fucking ladder. She'd climb down, get halfway through and then decide this was a bad idea and ascend again.
ICO has been to me a game of all these little frustrations piling up. Due to the nature of the puzzles and platforming, failing them was aggravating and solving them first try was merely unremarkable. It makes me question again, what is the value of minimalism genuinely? There was a point at which I had to use a chain to jump across a gap and I couldnt quite make it, I thought "well, maybe theres a way to jump farther" and started pressing buttons randomly until the circle button achieved the result of letting me use momentum to swing accross. Now, if instead a non-diegetic diagram of the face buttons had shown up on the HUD instead what would have been lost? To me, very little. Sure, excessive direction can be annoying and take me out of the game, but pressing buttons randomly did the same, personally. Nor did "figuring it out for myself" feel particularly fulfilling. Thats again what I meant, victories are unremarkable and failures are frustrating. The same can be said for the combat which, honestly I liked at first. I liked how clumsy and childish the stick flailing fighting style was, but ultimately it involved hitting the enemies over and over and over and over again until they stopped spawning. Thankfully you can run away at times and rush to the exit to make the enemies blow up but the game's habit of spawning them when you're far from Yorda or maybe when she's on a different platform meant that I had to rely on her stupid pathfinding to quickly respond (which is just not going to happen, she needs like 3 business days to execute the same thing we've done 5k times already, I guess the language barrier applies to pattern recognition as well somehow) and when it inevitably failed I would have to jump down and mash square until they fucked off.
I can see the argument that this is meant to be disempowering somehow but I don't really buy it. Your strikes knock these fuckers down well enough, they just keep getting back up. Ico isnt strong, he shouldnt be able to smite these wizard of oz monkeys with a single swing, but then why can they do no damage to ICO and get knocked down flat with a couple swings? Either they are weak as hell but keep getting remotely CPRd by the antagonist or they're strong but have really poor balance. In the end, all I could really feel from ICO was being miserable. I finished the game in 5 hours but it felt twice that. All I can think of now is that Im glad its done and I can tick it off the bucket list. I am now dreading playing shadow of the colossus even harder, and I don't think I ever want to play The Last Guardian, it just looks like ICO but even more miserable. I'm sure I've outed myself as an uncultured swine who didnt get the genius of the experience and will lose all my followers but I'm too deflated to care. If there is one positive to this experience is that I kept procrastinating on finishing the game that I got back into reading. I read The Name of the Rose and Rumble Fish, pretty good reads. Im going to read Winesburg Ohio next I think.
Rental
2022
Visually pretty, short little game jam project. Like most of it's kind, Rental is a little rough around the edges but the idea and presentation is strong, I kind of wish it was a full game- or at least extended somewhat with more structure- but that's how these event games usually tend to go. But otherwise, its pretty cute (and free), a perfectly harmless way to kill a few minutes.
Chrono Cross
1999
initially was going to convey this in a meaner, snarkier way for the bit but with how this game tied into trigger closer to the end i decided not to. the game is not subtle about how it feels having to follow up a dream team project like trigger and a certain set of characters basically have to refrain themselves from explicitly saying serge ruined chrono trigger, and because of that i would honestly feel kind of bad bringing that kind of attitude with this review. regardless, while i played chrono cross, the main thought that went through my head was "how is it that people thought cross didn't live up to trigger rather than the other way around?" but as i finished the game and write this review i feel as though cross didn't need to live up to trigger and that hinging its value on whether or not it does is a very childish way of looking at things.
to me, chrono trigger is a game that is held back by how near perfect it is. there's so little wrong with it that at least to me nothing really stands out anymore. there's nothing to grab onto, no imperfections to make it feel "complete" to me and as such i feel as though its reverence, while not necessarily misplaced, is harder for me to grasp because to me a "perfect" game without imperfections, as contradictory as it sounds, will never be perfect to me. meanwhile, chrono cross i found to be an amazing, thought provoking, mesmerizing game that pushed the playstation to its limits aesthetically, a game with so much to say about what it means to live and exist, what it means to dream. chrono cross is messy and imperfect in such beautiful ways, it knows its following up chrono trigger and while it still intends to be a continuation of a work like trigger it doesn't care what kind of shadow its living in and intends to be its own experience, flaws and all.
whether or not it lives up to chrono trigger is irrelevant, the arguments surrounding such are just attempts at insecure and childish posturing because these games, while connected are so different that its hardly worth comparing in that sense. i understand that nothing exists in a vacuum, let alone a sequel, but maybe it would do some people a lot of good to both understand the context of something like chrono cross while also letting it be its own experience.
to me, chrono trigger is a game that is held back by how near perfect it is. there's so little wrong with it that at least to me nothing really stands out anymore. there's nothing to grab onto, no imperfections to make it feel "complete" to me and as such i feel as though its reverence, while not necessarily misplaced, is harder for me to grasp because to me a "perfect" game without imperfections, as contradictory as it sounds, will never be perfect to me. meanwhile, chrono cross i found to be an amazing, thought provoking, mesmerizing game that pushed the playstation to its limits aesthetically, a game with so much to say about what it means to live and exist, what it means to dream. chrono cross is messy and imperfect in such beautiful ways, it knows its following up chrono trigger and while it still intends to be a continuation of a work like trigger it doesn't care what kind of shadow its living in and intends to be its own experience, flaws and all.
whether or not it lives up to chrono trigger is irrelevant, the arguments surrounding such are just attempts at insecure and childish posturing because these games, while connected are so different that its hardly worth comparing in that sense. i understand that nothing exists in a vacuum, let alone a sequel, but maybe it would do some people a lot of good to both understand the context of something like chrono cross while also letting it be its own experience.
Deus Ex
2000
Finished my replay of this game on hard mode. There wasn't much of a difference with normal except that obviously you take fewer hits before you go down. Perhaps one day I'll play on realistic but something tells me that will cross the line into being annoying for my playstyle.
If you've followed me for a while or even if you've been in the same room as me for more than 15 minutes you might now that I despise stealth games. I've tried, but I genuinely hate them all. MGS, Thief, Dishonored, even stealth sections in games I like (shenmue, max payne, disaster report 4). I've had bad luck with so called Immersive Sims because of it, as most of them are essentially stealth arpg hybrids like Deus Ex, but so far its basically only the OG (and consortium by virtue of not having stealth) that I mess with. Its not exactly a mystery why, and consider this a plea for other games to follow suit : let me murder everyone. Give me an actual choice between stealth and combat and not just stealth and "you fucked up the stealth you idiot! you might as well reload a save"
Importantly, Deus Ex's combat is deceptively fun to get to grips with. Its so simple but really effective the way that you start out as someone who takes 2 business days to line up a pistol shot to being able to run around with the gep gun blowing people up like nothing. I'm surprised no one else has tried emulating the system, with your RPG esque weapon stats determining how fast your crosshair takes to narrow and become fully accurate, presumably imitating how it takes someone to aim down the sights and prepare to fire a shot.
Now, obviously for this kind of game there has to be push back, and even with a combat build your ass is not going to last if you're trying to play the game like half life, which is precisely why its satisfying to completely forgo stealth and murder everyone through traps, ambushes etc. This playthrough I discovered how useful the non lethal gas grenades are for murder runs (ironically) cause it makes enemies freeze up to rub their eyes, lining up to get headshot with the pistol for maximum murder efficiency.
The playthrough did however highlight Deus Ex's biggest flaw : the save system. Its one of those systems which is simultaneously too annoying and too forgiving. Its annoying because I am forgetful, and losing 15 mins of progress because I forgot to save is just... frustrating. On the other hand, there is basically nothing stopping you from hardcore save scumming every 5 seconds. Ironically, there is nothing more appropriately "mean" for a choice based rpg than an aggressive auto save, as it is, you can basically game most of the big decisions and encounters. Maybe even a save room system like RE4 might be appropriate? Could even lock them behind doors with an interesting weighing up of resources if its worth risking a loss of progress for a lockpick or multitool? Idk now Im playing armchair designer but either way.
Area 51 is still kinda annoying, I didnt use console commands to noclip through it this time but I still fused with Helios because it was the fastest way to complete the level, the later bits of the game are kind of a downgrade from the initial half of the game.
If you've followed me for a while or even if you've been in the same room as me for more than 15 minutes you might now that I despise stealth games. I've tried, but I genuinely hate them all. MGS, Thief, Dishonored, even stealth sections in games I like (shenmue, max payne, disaster report 4). I've had bad luck with so called Immersive Sims because of it, as most of them are essentially stealth arpg hybrids like Deus Ex, but so far its basically only the OG (and consortium by virtue of not having stealth) that I mess with. Its not exactly a mystery why, and consider this a plea for other games to follow suit : let me murder everyone. Give me an actual choice between stealth and combat and not just stealth and "you fucked up the stealth you idiot! you might as well reload a save"
Importantly, Deus Ex's combat is deceptively fun to get to grips with. Its so simple but really effective the way that you start out as someone who takes 2 business days to line up a pistol shot to being able to run around with the gep gun blowing people up like nothing. I'm surprised no one else has tried emulating the system, with your RPG esque weapon stats determining how fast your crosshair takes to narrow and become fully accurate, presumably imitating how it takes someone to aim down the sights and prepare to fire a shot.
Now, obviously for this kind of game there has to be push back, and even with a combat build your ass is not going to last if you're trying to play the game like half life, which is precisely why its satisfying to completely forgo stealth and murder everyone through traps, ambushes etc. This playthrough I discovered how useful the non lethal gas grenades are for murder runs (ironically) cause it makes enemies freeze up to rub their eyes, lining up to get headshot with the pistol for maximum murder efficiency.
The playthrough did however highlight Deus Ex's biggest flaw : the save system. Its one of those systems which is simultaneously too annoying and too forgiving. Its annoying because I am forgetful, and losing 15 mins of progress because I forgot to save is just... frustrating. On the other hand, there is basically nothing stopping you from hardcore save scumming every 5 seconds. Ironically, there is nothing more appropriately "mean" for a choice based rpg than an aggressive auto save, as it is, you can basically game most of the big decisions and encounters. Maybe even a save room system like RE4 might be appropriate? Could even lock them behind doors with an interesting weighing up of resources if its worth risking a loss of progress for a lockpick or multitool? Idk now Im playing armchair designer but either way.
Area 51 is still kinda annoying, I didnt use console commands to noclip through it this time but I still fused with Helios because it was the fastest way to complete the level, the later bits of the game are kind of a downgrade from the initial half of the game.
Final Fantasy IX
2000
Replayed this for the sake of nostalgia and its themes of accepting your own death resonate with me even more now because this account is dying on May 27th, 2024
I picked up Shenzhen Solitaire by Zachtronics a couple years ago and didn't think much of it. I played it a little and found it confusing and arcane. My mind couldn't think or plan ahead the way the game needed you to, and I got frustrated having to reset constantly.
For a long time I have struggled with feelings of inadequacy, in all aspects of my life. What is self-worth when you have so little with which to define one's self? The kind of destructive thinking that informs anything and everything you do. I have 3000+ hours on Paladins. More than half of that time I have probably spent frustrated- about my aim, my KDA, my game sense and knowledge. Constantly checking the stat trackers, getting discouraged that I can never be like the good players.
Shenzhen Solitaire has a way of sneaking up on you, as you sit there resetting the board. I got into the habit of clicking and slightly dragging a card over and over as I scan the board for possible routes, the way someone might shuffle or fidget with a physical deck of cards. The same droning ambient loop plays in perpetuity, to this day I don't even know if I really even like it. But I could listen to that loop for hours, and I did end up listening to it for hours. Turning it off was weird- the silence actually felt deafening.
Getting my first win was a revelatory moment, cause I had probably lost 50-100 times before I finally cleared the board. The feeling of accomplishment may have been the closest I had gotten to self-actualization in a long time. I have these moments of hyperfixation my entire life. They all matter to me in different ways, but solitaires a bit different. I felt like I was clearing cobwebs in my brain through constant iteration. I felt satisfied, and I realized I had stopped getting frustrated a long time ago. Awhile later, I reached 20 wins, and it clicked for me why it was working so well for me. It's because I was feeling, for a brief moment in the whirlwind of life, like I was actually at peace.
There's a lot of writing out there on what makes solitaire so compelling. Francine Prose wrote in Solitaire: Me vs. Me the following: "Like writing, it’s entirely private, the exertion is purely cerebral; you’re playing against yourself, against your previous best, against the law of averages and the forces of chance. You’re taking random elements and trying to put them together in a pleasing way, to make order out of chaos."
As I sit there, fighting against both my brain and the board state, I finally make a move that allows me to sort out an entire pile. I feel a feeling of elation that video games very rarely give me anymore. Its as if my thoughts have decayed by the constant low-level dread of depression, and I have sunk into the worst kinds of maladaptive coping mechanism. Competitive online gaming gave me an outlet to let out frustration and anxiety, but I rarely was feeling good whether I won or I lost. I was always on-edge, always annoyed at something. Even the act of running the game itself became a source of anxiety. Researching monitors, FPS optimizations, mouse polling rates and DPI. Everything felt like a constant tightrope and I think to myself, when did this stop being a game? When did I stop having fun doing this?
Zachtronics Solitaire Collection has allowed me a calm respite in the storm of my thoughts- a world in which I can both relax and challenge myself in a healthy manner. While regular Freecell and Klondike solitaire are very simple conceptually, they provide a solid blueprint for creatives to remix into extremely deep play experiences.Fortune's Foundation, with its beautiful tarot cards and complicated ruleset, is a particular standout. It has so many possible fail states that Zach included an Undo button, which is somewhat of a rarity in the popular Solitaire-likes. Even with the option, it's such a difficult game that I have yet to clear it. I have gotten close- so tantalizingly close- only to realize an action I made 50 moves ago has painted me in a corner. I realize it, I note where I went wrong, I reset, and I try again.
I think it has taught me to deal with failure in a far more healthy way. I come from a career field where making a mistake is met with open hostility, and I make many mistakes. It's so easy to internalize failure in the immediate moment as an inherent failing of either the self or others. In the smorgasboard of sight and sound that is competitive gaming, where its so easy to tie your self-worth with your mechanical skill, it becomes natural to spiral into the worst impulses.
The repetitive, calming nature of solitaire has become a therapeutic exercise for me, in ways I mostly imagined games to be. I long called gaming my coping mechanism- but it was hardly anything like that. Being able to find an experience like this, in solitude, has made all the difference for me. Gaming is a personal experience, as all art is. So what makes something like a standard deck of cards into a meditative gaming experience is just that.
In Solitaire, all that awaits failure is the humdrum ambience of the background and the opportunity to reset the board and try again. In solitude, I learned to center myself in the moment rather than allow my anxiety to consume my every thought. In solitude, I learned to give myself a chance.
For a long time I have struggled with feelings of inadequacy, in all aspects of my life. What is self-worth when you have so little with which to define one's self? The kind of destructive thinking that informs anything and everything you do. I have 3000+ hours on Paladins. More than half of that time I have probably spent frustrated- about my aim, my KDA, my game sense and knowledge. Constantly checking the stat trackers, getting discouraged that I can never be like the good players.
Shenzhen Solitaire has a way of sneaking up on you, as you sit there resetting the board. I got into the habit of clicking and slightly dragging a card over and over as I scan the board for possible routes, the way someone might shuffle or fidget with a physical deck of cards. The same droning ambient loop plays in perpetuity, to this day I don't even know if I really even like it. But I could listen to that loop for hours, and I did end up listening to it for hours. Turning it off was weird- the silence actually felt deafening.
Getting my first win was a revelatory moment, cause I had probably lost 50-100 times before I finally cleared the board. The feeling of accomplishment may have been the closest I had gotten to self-actualization in a long time. I have these moments of hyperfixation my entire life. They all matter to me in different ways, but solitaires a bit different. I felt like I was clearing cobwebs in my brain through constant iteration. I felt satisfied, and I realized I had stopped getting frustrated a long time ago. Awhile later, I reached 20 wins, and it clicked for me why it was working so well for me. It's because I was feeling, for a brief moment in the whirlwind of life, like I was actually at peace.
There's a lot of writing out there on what makes solitaire so compelling. Francine Prose wrote in Solitaire: Me vs. Me the following: "Like writing, it’s entirely private, the exertion is purely cerebral; you’re playing against yourself, against your previous best, against the law of averages and the forces of chance. You’re taking random elements and trying to put them together in a pleasing way, to make order out of chaos."
As I sit there, fighting against both my brain and the board state, I finally make a move that allows me to sort out an entire pile. I feel a feeling of elation that video games very rarely give me anymore. Its as if my thoughts have decayed by the constant low-level dread of depression, and I have sunk into the worst kinds of maladaptive coping mechanism. Competitive online gaming gave me an outlet to let out frustration and anxiety, but I rarely was feeling good whether I won or I lost. I was always on-edge, always annoyed at something. Even the act of running the game itself became a source of anxiety. Researching monitors, FPS optimizations, mouse polling rates and DPI. Everything felt like a constant tightrope and I think to myself, when did this stop being a game? When did I stop having fun doing this?
Zachtronics Solitaire Collection has allowed me a calm respite in the storm of my thoughts- a world in which I can both relax and challenge myself in a healthy manner. While regular Freecell and Klondike solitaire are very simple conceptually, they provide a solid blueprint for creatives to remix into extremely deep play experiences.Fortune's Foundation, with its beautiful tarot cards and complicated ruleset, is a particular standout. It has so many possible fail states that Zach included an Undo button, which is somewhat of a rarity in the popular Solitaire-likes. Even with the option, it's such a difficult game that I have yet to clear it. I have gotten close- so tantalizingly close- only to realize an action I made 50 moves ago has painted me in a corner. I realize it, I note where I went wrong, I reset, and I try again.
I think it has taught me to deal with failure in a far more healthy way. I come from a career field where making a mistake is met with open hostility, and I make many mistakes. It's so easy to internalize failure in the immediate moment as an inherent failing of either the self or others. In the smorgasboard of sight and sound that is competitive gaming, where its so easy to tie your self-worth with your mechanical skill, it becomes natural to spiral into the worst impulses.
The repetitive, calming nature of solitaire has become a therapeutic exercise for me, in ways I mostly imagined games to be. I long called gaming my coping mechanism- but it was hardly anything like that. Being able to find an experience like this, in solitude, has made all the difference for me. Gaming is a personal experience, as all art is. So what makes something like a standard deck of cards into a meditative gaming experience is just that.
In Solitaire, all that awaits failure is the humdrum ambience of the background and the opportunity to reset the board and try again. In solitude, I learned to center myself in the moment rather than allow my anxiety to consume my every thought. In solitude, I learned to give myself a chance.