rainfrog
74 Reviews liked by rainfrog
Tunic
2022
By showing you things you find familiar, Tunic tells you what it isn't.
When Tunic begins, you're a fox in a Tunic waking up on a beach. Anyone in my age group and, perhaps some younger cohort I can't really extrapolate the lived experience of, will immediately think, "Oh, I'm playing Link's Awakening". When you get a few steps into the game your first goal becomes clear, you're to ring two bells, each in different locations. To gamers of any age, this information communicates to you that you are also playing Dark Souls. But by telling you this so immediately and so begging-for-a-lawsuit brazenly, Tunic is making clear that it is neither Link's Awakening nor Dark Souls. By this point in the game it has, however, shown you what it is-- a game about an instruction booklet.
Tunic strives to capture the experience, perhaps most concretely, of a child who grew up with a love for gaming and a mother tongue that no one in the games industry had a love for localizing. Left to their own devices, these kids had to rely on careful reading of every available context, poring over the included instruction manual for every game when stuck in any seemingly impossible impass. When Tunic shows you a Link fox with a Dark Souls combat set, it's telling you that you already know what's going on, and encouraging you to focus on what the game instead is really about, which is the experience of the unbridled joy that games can bring in the form of discovery.
Impressively, Tunic's combat system and enemies are finely tuned to be challenging yet fair. Its interconnected world maybe not perfect, but designed well enough for the player to internalize and familiarize themselves with. It has plenty of depth, but doesn't overstay its welcome when you feel satisfied and ready to beat it. Tunic is a gamer's game.
When Tunic begins, you're a fox in a Tunic waking up on a beach. Anyone in my age group and, perhaps some younger cohort I can't really extrapolate the lived experience of, will immediately think, "Oh, I'm playing Link's Awakening". When you get a few steps into the game your first goal becomes clear, you're to ring two bells, each in different locations. To gamers of any age, this information communicates to you that you are also playing Dark Souls. But by telling you this so immediately and so begging-for-a-lawsuit brazenly, Tunic is making clear that it is neither Link's Awakening nor Dark Souls. By this point in the game it has, however, shown you what it is-- a game about an instruction booklet.
Tunic strives to capture the experience, perhaps most concretely, of a child who grew up with a love for gaming and a mother tongue that no one in the games industry had a love for localizing. Left to their own devices, these kids had to rely on careful reading of every available context, poring over the included instruction manual for every game when stuck in any seemingly impossible impass. When Tunic shows you a Link fox with a Dark Souls combat set, it's telling you that you already know what's going on, and encouraging you to focus on what the game instead is really about, which is the experience of the unbridled joy that games can bring in the form of discovery.
Impressively, Tunic's combat system and enemies are finely tuned to be challenging yet fair. Its interconnected world maybe not perfect, but designed well enough for the player to internalize and familiarize themselves with. It has plenty of depth, but doesn't overstay its welcome when you feel satisfied and ready to beat it. Tunic is a gamer's game.
Cursed to Golf
2022
Interesting game. Maybe a little less than the sum of its parts, mainly because pretty much everyone has the same takeaway after playing it a bit: "why is this a roguelike?" The roguelike elements really aren't even very good - the power creep you get as you progress gets kind of crazy. But that also lent itself to me clearing the game in about 6-7 hours - if I had lost my final run, I'm not sure I would have given it another go, but that also left me with a decent impression. The rough-around-the-edges nature also (funnily enough) gave me a little bit of fire to go back after my first couple failed runs to show that stupid game who's boss, which made me giggle.
The levels tend to be quite long which feels more suited to a normal game format rather than a roguelike, and while I think the platforming is pretty interesting, technical, and satisfying to pull off (by the end I was really confident in handling spin despite it initially feeling unreliable), there is a pretty lacking element of that flow and the flight that I associate with golf. The presentation is very good though - the 2nd and 3rd boss themes were a bit lacking after the absolute gigabanger that is the 1st boss theme, but still great OST, excellent art, and charming enough writing despite some perhaps too-long tutorials. It seems like since release there have been several great QoL patches too. Overall, while the game might have some glaring flaws, I enjoyed my time, and the drive to mash up all these gameplay elements and follow through on finishing the project is artistically commendable. I appreciate it.
The levels tend to be quite long which feels more suited to a normal game format rather than a roguelike, and while I think the platforming is pretty interesting, technical, and satisfying to pull off (by the end I was really confident in handling spin despite it initially feeling unreliable), there is a pretty lacking element of that flow and the flight that I associate with golf. The presentation is very good though - the 2nd and 3rd boss themes were a bit lacking after the absolute gigabanger that is the 1st boss theme, but still great OST, excellent art, and charming enough writing despite some perhaps too-long tutorials. It seems like since release there have been several great QoL patches too. Overall, while the game might have some glaring flaws, I enjoyed my time, and the drive to mash up all these gameplay elements and follow through on finishing the project is artistically commendable. I appreciate it.
Hypnospace Outlaw
2019
Hypnospace Outlaw is a funny and pretty spot-on parody of late 90's internet and the communities who grew up on it.
A few of the puzzles are obtuse enough that it might help to have a walkthrough on-hand to help out (although admittedly, I had a pretty bad fever when I was playing so wasn't in the most analytical of mindsets), especially near the end of the game.
My main complaint about Hypnospace Outlaw, which applies to a lot of other faux-retro games, is that fonts in old PC user interfaces were much more readable than people seem to remember. Long paragraphs are a pain to read with such blocky fonts and for a game entirely about reading old websites, that can be an issue.
A few of the puzzles are obtuse enough that it might help to have a walkthrough on-hand to help out (although admittedly, I had a pretty bad fever when I was playing so wasn't in the most analytical of mindsets), especially near the end of the game.
My main complaint about Hypnospace Outlaw, which applies to a lot of other faux-retro games, is that fonts in old PC user interfaces were much more readable than people seem to remember. Long paragraphs are a pain to read with such blocky fonts and for a game entirely about reading old websites, that can be an issue.
The thing about putting actual gay characters in your seemingly-yuribait game is that it's a very refreshing surprise, yes, but after that you've blown the whole lid off the premise. There's no more plausible deniability to building a luxurious bed and invited ten other girls to cuddle you in it, we all know that shit is gay now.
What I'm saying is Ao/Uta real. 5/5.
What I'm saying is Ao/Uta real. 5/5.
Paper Mario Sticker Star was a landmark experience in my relationship with video games.
At one point in time, Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door was my favorite game. I didn’t know what a JRPG was, and from how I heard people talk at school, thought it had something to do with the war in Iraq. I hadn’t played Chrono Trigger yet. But anything with Mario on it passed my parents' arbitrary content filtration, so Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door remained a unique game that pressed multiple buttons I liked. The art style spoke to me as an aspiring vector graphic artist. There was strategy, there was story, with enough player engagement and metatextual dressing to sell me on turn-based combat. It was funny, it was cute, with just enough depth to help me graduate from the simplicity of the Mario platformers I was used to.
Super Paper Mario was fine. I knew it was a different genre before it came out, which offset my disappointment somewhat, enough that I never said out loud, “this art style is lame.” My Smash Bros. friend thought it was hilarious, so I liked it, too. I got my sister to play it, in an attempt to convince myself to love it. It didn’t work, but Super Paper Mario became the first game she ever finished. I was happy for her. So I never said out loud, “this game should have been better.” But I felt it.
Sticker Star came out during a long period when I didn’t play video games. I didn’t get to it for years. By the time it was $10 on clearance, there were other games I liked. Maybe Xenoblade Chronicles or Fire Emblem Awakening were my new favorite games. But now Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door had ~nostalgia~ status, before I knew what that word meant, much less what it meant for me.
I played all of Sticker Star. I finished it. I remembered and remember nothing about it. I felt nothing. Or thought I felt nothing. Until I saw empty achievement podiums in the post-game inviting me to do a bunch of pointless grindy bullshit to check off some checklists.
My first reaction was “oh, more content! More Paper Mario!” until my brain processed what the game was asking of me. Find all the trinkets? Win a lottery 50 times? Collect 10,000 coins?
I said out loud, “Why would anyone do that?”
Then a profound realization washed over me. I did not like this game. I did not enjoy any of my time with this game. I had finished this entire game precisely because of my remembered love for a different game with the same name. A love that had at once been unexamined, treasured, and rendered featureless and sourceless with time.
I stared at the achievement markers, not yet knowing what an achievement was, and felt an inscrutable feeling of dread and betrayal. This game was bad. But beyond the game being bad, Sticker Star was also behaving as if it were unaware it was bad. Smash Bros. had checklists, but they unlocked new stages, new characters. Those checklists were crude interfaces for unlocking fun surprises. This was just… homework.
But why would Nintendo give me homework? Why would Mario give me homework? And why would a real life human do that homework if they weren’t getting graded or paid? I quietly saved the game, returned it to its case, and closed my 3DS, more pensive and alone feeling than I was expecting to feel that day. I told no one about this experience. I told no one I had even played the game. My Smash Bros. friend was gone and married at that point, anyway.
I’d watched people at school play bad flash games, so I knew bad games existed. But they seemed to poke fun at themselves, aware of their own disposability. This was the first time my childish, uncritical brain was forced to confront the reality that bad games could come from Brands™ made by Adults. Because the more I stewed on why the idea of those achievements felt like homework, the more I realized the entire experience of playing the game felt like homework. Stripped of context, stripped of story, the basic actions of the game were straight unfun to play. But that meant the presentation hadn’t made the game fun, it had only been a distraction from the neutral hell of paying money to do homework for zero learning or recognition.
I don’t want to oversell Sticker Star’s importance in my developing critical facilities, but it is the clearest turning point of my self-awareness with a game before several of my behaviors changed. I stopped getting excited for games before their release. I stopped visiting IGN - they’d given this game an 8.3! I stopped saying a game was among my favorites if I couldn’t remember why. I actually finished Xenoblade Chronicles. That ending suuuuucked, and the game stopped being in my top 10.
There’s a good chance many of these changes would have come about as side-effects of growing up. But maturity and wisdom are not guaranteed with age. New ‘bad’ Paper Mario games keep coming out, and I see its “fan” base go through phases of evangelical rage and disappointment with every release. Fans who never learned the lessons that Sticker Star offered, that fans should sprout up around products, and not that products will be made for fans.
I have no rage for Sticker Star. I successfully recognized that Sticker Star did not deserve to tap into the well of emotions that had been drilled by the Thousand Year Door. With that realization, the bubble of nostalgia around the Thousand Year Door popped, its warm glow confined to its own identity instead of allowed to exist as an emotionally ethereal entity that could bless and inhabit other games. With that skill obtained, other nostalgia bubbles began to deflate over the years until none remained. It was a melancholic mental transformation, but with it came a confidence that the games I liked were Actually Good instead of emotional echoes of a previous self.
The Paper Mario series effectively taught me how the commodification of game series changes its identity. I’m tempted to say “and robs it of its soul,” but the new bad Paper Mario games have a different soul. A beige-colored soul. A market-tested soul that sets sales records, with legs enough that whatever Paper Mario came out on the Switch can probably tap into nostalgia people have for Sticker Star. (A concept that belongs in my personal version of hell.)
It’s only fitting that Mario, who introduced me to platforming, racing, and JRPGs, would also be the one to teach me about the dystopian rot of corporate game production.
I am not grateful.
At one point in time, Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door was my favorite game. I didn’t know what a JRPG was, and from how I heard people talk at school, thought it had something to do with the war in Iraq. I hadn’t played Chrono Trigger yet. But anything with Mario on it passed my parents' arbitrary content filtration, so Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door remained a unique game that pressed multiple buttons I liked. The art style spoke to me as an aspiring vector graphic artist. There was strategy, there was story, with enough player engagement and metatextual dressing to sell me on turn-based combat. It was funny, it was cute, with just enough depth to help me graduate from the simplicity of the Mario platformers I was used to.
Super Paper Mario was fine. I knew it was a different genre before it came out, which offset my disappointment somewhat, enough that I never said out loud, “this art style is lame.” My Smash Bros. friend thought it was hilarious, so I liked it, too. I got my sister to play it, in an attempt to convince myself to love it. It didn’t work, but Super Paper Mario became the first game she ever finished. I was happy for her. So I never said out loud, “this game should have been better.” But I felt it.
Sticker Star came out during a long period when I didn’t play video games. I didn’t get to it for years. By the time it was $10 on clearance, there were other games I liked. Maybe Xenoblade Chronicles or Fire Emblem Awakening were my new favorite games. But now Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door had ~nostalgia~ status, before I knew what that word meant, much less what it meant for me.
I played all of Sticker Star. I finished it. I remembered and remember nothing about it. I felt nothing. Or thought I felt nothing. Until I saw empty achievement podiums in the post-game inviting me to do a bunch of pointless grindy bullshit to check off some checklists.
My first reaction was “oh, more content! More Paper Mario!” until my brain processed what the game was asking of me. Find all the trinkets? Win a lottery 50 times? Collect 10,000 coins?
I said out loud, “Why would anyone do that?”
Then a profound realization washed over me. I did not like this game. I did not enjoy any of my time with this game. I had finished this entire game precisely because of my remembered love for a different game with the same name. A love that had at once been unexamined, treasured, and rendered featureless and sourceless with time.
I stared at the achievement markers, not yet knowing what an achievement was, and felt an inscrutable feeling of dread and betrayal. This game was bad. But beyond the game being bad, Sticker Star was also behaving as if it were unaware it was bad. Smash Bros. had checklists, but they unlocked new stages, new characters. Those checklists were crude interfaces for unlocking fun surprises. This was just… homework.
But why would Nintendo give me homework? Why would Mario give me homework? And why would a real life human do that homework if they weren’t getting graded or paid? I quietly saved the game, returned it to its case, and closed my 3DS, more pensive and alone feeling than I was expecting to feel that day. I told no one about this experience. I told no one I had even played the game. My Smash Bros. friend was gone and married at that point, anyway.
I’d watched people at school play bad flash games, so I knew bad games existed. But they seemed to poke fun at themselves, aware of their own disposability. This was the first time my childish, uncritical brain was forced to confront the reality that bad games could come from Brands™ made by Adults. Because the more I stewed on why the idea of those achievements felt like homework, the more I realized the entire experience of playing the game felt like homework. Stripped of context, stripped of story, the basic actions of the game were straight unfun to play. But that meant the presentation hadn’t made the game fun, it had only been a distraction from the neutral hell of paying money to do homework for zero learning or recognition.
I don’t want to oversell Sticker Star’s importance in my developing critical facilities, but it is the clearest turning point of my self-awareness with a game before several of my behaviors changed. I stopped getting excited for games before their release. I stopped visiting IGN - they’d given this game an 8.3! I stopped saying a game was among my favorites if I couldn’t remember why. I actually finished Xenoblade Chronicles. That ending suuuuucked, and the game stopped being in my top 10.
There’s a good chance many of these changes would have come about as side-effects of growing up. But maturity and wisdom are not guaranteed with age. New ‘bad’ Paper Mario games keep coming out, and I see its “fan” base go through phases of evangelical rage and disappointment with every release. Fans who never learned the lessons that Sticker Star offered, that fans should sprout up around products, and not that products will be made for fans.
I have no rage for Sticker Star. I successfully recognized that Sticker Star did not deserve to tap into the well of emotions that had been drilled by the Thousand Year Door. With that realization, the bubble of nostalgia around the Thousand Year Door popped, its warm glow confined to its own identity instead of allowed to exist as an emotionally ethereal entity that could bless and inhabit other games. With that skill obtained, other nostalgia bubbles began to deflate over the years until none remained. It was a melancholic mental transformation, but with it came a confidence that the games I liked were Actually Good instead of emotional echoes of a previous self.
The Paper Mario series effectively taught me how the commodification of game series changes its identity. I’m tempted to say “and robs it of its soul,” but the new bad Paper Mario games have a different soul. A beige-colored soul. A market-tested soul that sets sales records, with legs enough that whatever Paper Mario came out on the Switch can probably tap into nostalgia people have for Sticker Star. (A concept that belongs in my personal version of hell.)
It’s only fitting that Mario, who introduced me to platforming, racing, and JRPGs, would also be the one to teach me about the dystopian rot of corporate game production.
I am not grateful.
edited 1/30/22
Covid-19 is intrinsic to Animal Crossing: New Horizon's profile. I have a lot of games I played during this scary time in our lives, but it's AC: NH that defines it; merely days after it dropped, my state went into lockdown. At that point, my family and I were quarantined to try and remain safe in the hopes of weathering out the pandemic. When I think back to those first few months of lockdown, I think of how much of a comfort waking up to play on my island was. I would play for quite literally hours at a time, though I only recently clocked in with nearly 400 hours of gameplay.
All that said, I don't think that this was a game meant to be played for an upwards of 400 hours in less than two years. That might not seem like a lot, but the majority of my playtime these days is firmly settled on maybe an hour a day— when I remember to play, that is.
This game is often, understandably, compared to AC: New Leaf. There's an important piece of that discussion that I feel is often ignored: NL introduced the Dream Suite, which allowed players to create a dream address for their towns they could then share online. This let other players visit their towns without the mayor needing to allow them entry. It essentially was like exploring a cloud backup of a town, and some players got extremely creative with this, giving their towns themes and stories for dream visitors to uncover as they explored. An example of this would be the infamous Aika village. Additionally, the Able sisters' shop had a machine in it where players could make custom designs that they could upload to the internet. Other players could then download it through an assigned QR code that would be punched into the same machine in their game. Players could use this design to customize their town or their character. The 3DS’' touch screen changed the landscape for customization in Animal Crossing. While there was a lot to do in NL, the customization aspect was probably what I most remember and arguably what kept NL puttering along until the big "Welcome Amiibo" update. I think NH is the continuation of that, with perhaps the biggest proof being how quickly Luna was introduced into the game. However, in order to focus on aesthetics, the game has been stripped down to the bare essentials, with Nintendo arguably putting out an incomplete game.
This is a YMMV thing, I suppose. I see people creating in depth, stunning islands, and my immediate first thought when I spot them is that I am frankly not playing the same game as them. In the hands of someone with more creativity than me, I can see how this game could be a personal favorite. Most of the focus has been shifted to online play, trading, and island customization. I've seen "playable islands," which is stuff like island wide mazes, something that Nintendo has gotten in on themselves.
One of the biggest reveals leading up to the release of New Horizons was that your island was fully customizable. You could create your own cliffs, rivers, waterfalls, and there were a number of different customization options for bridges and inclines. DIY’d furniture could be customized, refreshed with a new coat of paint in the absence of Reese and Cyrus’ shop. These two factors, combined with how fast Luna was implemented, seem to indicate that aesthetics were the driving force of development in New Horizons. This would be fine, except there’s a number of problems that become even more strained and obvious the longer they go unaddressed.
Firstly, I would be remiss to not mention Nook Miles. A new addition to Animal Crossing, Nook Miles are a new in-game currency that you could use to purchase different items through a curated catalogue hosted by Nook Industries. You can purchase items, DIYs and Nook Mile Tickets with Nook Miles, but all of these come with a caveat. This title, more than previous titles, has had it’s online play stressed again and again for better or worse. In your Nook Miles shop, you’ll find a street light. Mine is brown, personally, but yours might be a different color; white, maybe. You will only be able to purchase that color from your Nook Miles shop— if either of us ever want a different color street lamp, we will need to get it from a second party every single time we want one. This is the same for any item for sale on the NM shop: Trading is a necessity if you want to focus on the aesthetic of your island, something that is encouraged by the game’s design.
Design surrounding customization and aesthetic in this game seem to be carefully chosen to encourage players to, well, play. Seasonal DIYs drop from balloons. You can only get certain DIYs from completing tasks— if you want the Mermaid series back, you need to hunt for scallops in the Summer so Pascal can pop up and ask you to trade your new scallop for a DIY. Talking to villagers during October can net you some Spooky DIYs. If you notice I keep mentioning DIYs, it’s because New Horizons launched with a limited selection of furniture. The Rococo line is gone, as are a number of others. They could be reintroduced at a later date, but I have to wonder if it’s too little at this point. There are new furniture sets in New Horizons, however: The wedding furniture can only be obtained by engaging in a seasonal daily minigame that loses all its charm the longer you play. The Sanrio furniture line was locked to Amiibo cards that sold out immediately, so your only hope is trading for the items, or buying knock offs of the cards online. Both options technically cost real world money— you need an online membership to trade, after all. I’ve already paid for the game, so tacking on $5 inclements to get more furniture to decorate my island when that’s what was promoted feels… well, not very consumer friendly.
With the mention of real world money and the previous mention of Nook Miles, you might be wondering how strong the similarity between a mobile Animal Crossing and New Horizons is. In talking about New Horizons, I can’t not also talk about Pocket Camp, the mobile version of Animal Crossing that comically enough has more content in it than New Horizons presently does. Part of this is the paywall— you purchase items to decorate your campsite with, but there’s also more fruit to collect in Pocket Camp, more incentive to catch fish and bugs in order to work up to those F2P options. More crossovers, collabs, more promotions; the list is exhaustive. New Horizons, in comparison, feels bare. Comparing the two feels dirty, because a mobile game functions and plans differently from a console game. When I need to pay extra money monthly to fully experience the game as intended, though, I have to wonder if New Horizons is all that different. If you’re still wondering: I wouldn’t say New Horizons has much in common with Pocket Camp beyond Nintendo’s clear greed and anti-consumer fundamentals, but this isn’t new to Nintendo. It’s simply more frustrating to see laid out in plain text.
One of the biggest misses in New Horizons is just how little time it actually spends getting you to play. There’s a severe lack of minigames, and significantly less traveling visitors to your island. Katrina is missing, and famously Brewster, but Kapp’n is nowhere to be seen either, even though there’s a dock on the beach. All three of these NPCs are associated with minigames or game mechanics, which New Horizons desperately needs. For what it’s worth, datamines consistently show that Brewster is slowly being implemented, and Katrina has been spotted on the Nintendo Online app. The dock has been in game from launch. With any luck, at least this trio might be seen in forthcoming updates, but for now, New Horizons is mostly menus and text.
Speaking of text, you read a lot of it in New Horizons.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a not-insignificant amount of my time in the game is spent doing just that simply due to menus. Since launch, a vocal part of the playerbase has been asking Nintendo to work on bulk crafting options simply because players will often do just that: craft in bulk. As an example, a recommended strategy for the fish and bug tournaments is to craft a multitude of fishing poles and nets beforehand. You go through the same set of menus every time you craft anything, and I can’t imagine that the development team did not expect players to craft in bulk at some point in designing the game— but the crafting menus are not nearly as bad as Orville’s menus. If you want to fly to another island, you’ll need to run down to the airport and talk to Orville, which kicks up a comical amount of menus. Menus lead to menus lead to menus in New Horizons. I couldn’t tell you why. I don’t know if villager hunting was a strategy the devteam planned on players engaging with, but they surely expected us to go to Mystery Islands back to back, right? I’m no longer hurting for resources in New Horizons. I don’t need more fruit or flowers or weeds or trees, so my only reason to go to these islands is to get a lucky roll or find a new villager. In the latter case, I spend much less time on the Mystery Island than in the menus upon menus. It’s odd.
Odd choices are a bound in New Horizons— updates are a Problem depending on who you talk to, but I find a lot of odd decisions are made within them. The aforementioned Nook Miles can also be obtained by visiting the terminal within Resident Services, which is fine because prior to an update where the terminal could now be accessed through your in-game phone, you could only check your new daily set of items for sale by visiting it. Now, you have to walk into the Resident Services, open the menu to get the Nook Miles, and if you’re like me, you already checked the shop, so you just leave.
Another odd decision is that the game functions on a grid. Basically, each part of your island is designed in squares. This means that some items will never be centered, and it makes terraforming— again, one of the Big Promotional Things— a bigger chore than you expect. I understand it fundamentally, but it feels like a midway point where something just doesn’t quite fit. It’s almost there, but it feels clunky and difficult more often than not. Maybe I’m just not good at it.
Additionally, while you can have multiple characters on the island, you can only have one island per console. This is an odd choice for a game where the demographic seems to be families; my younger siblings should be allowed to have their own islands on my Switch. For a game so focused on customization, I don't see why I can't have multiple islands or save datas. Then again, you have to purchase a memory card for your switch in order to have more than a handful of games on it, so perhaps it is simply a memory issue. Regardless, it is a feature I feel is necessary for games like this.
I’ve seen a lot of conversation surrounding the repetitive dialogue in the game, and I will be frank: There is a lot of it. Villagers repeat things, there’s a fair few glitches like villagers “blue screening” and we all had to put up with Raymond in a maid dress. That said, I can’t say it’s better or even worse than New Leaf. I booted up New Leaf because I remembered it very fondly, but after playing around in it for a while, I realized I had run into the same dialogue with my villagers a few times. In my experience, they’re just as lacking as before, but the bare bones gameplay has resulted in this being even more prominent than before. One thing I do miss is being invited over to villager houses at certain times and days, but missing that had no consequence in New Leaf. To be honest, I kind of miss the mean villagers from the Gamecube game. Go figure, right? I want the stress-free game to be more stressful.
This is a lot of text, and you might think I hate New Horizons. To be honest, though, I really don’t I didn’t sink 400 hours of my time into it because I had nothing to do. I got bored of it and moved onto other games: I’ve only played New Horizons in the Spring and Summer, because that’s when I get the Animal Crossing Itch. When I get back to the game, I do spend hours in it. The customization aspect of the game does hit certain points for me, and I have worked a lot on my island. My house is paid off, and nearly all decorated. I don’t open up the game out of spite— I legitimately enjoy it for a half hour or so, and then I’m done. That’s probably the intention of this game, now, but I can’t help but think about how I wish I had more to do in it. How the implication of more is in every corner of my island getaway.
The closed off upper level of Nook’s Cranny, the two empty walls on either side of the top level of the museum, the dock where Kapp’n could park his boat and wait for me to hop on in. The secret beach was eventually revealed to be where Redd docks his boat, and there’s still areas on my island where another building or two could fit. It’s like New Horizons has potential, but it doesn’t know when or how to unlock it. Maybe the problem is me though— maybe I’m looking for something exciting in my getaway package now that it’s started to feel like real life: Trapped in the same routine with no way out, doing my silly little tasks, while I hope for something to shake it up.
Anyway I think New Horizons is not a very good game
ETA: my opinion of 2.0 is reflected in how i took away half a star for it
Covid-19 is intrinsic to Animal Crossing: New Horizon's profile. I have a lot of games I played during this scary time in our lives, but it's AC: NH that defines it; merely days after it dropped, my state went into lockdown. At that point, my family and I were quarantined to try and remain safe in the hopes of weathering out the pandemic. When I think back to those first few months of lockdown, I think of how much of a comfort waking up to play on my island was. I would play for quite literally hours at a time, though I only recently clocked in with nearly 400 hours of gameplay.
All that said, I don't think that this was a game meant to be played for an upwards of 400 hours in less than two years. That might not seem like a lot, but the majority of my playtime these days is firmly settled on maybe an hour a day— when I remember to play, that is.
This game is often, understandably, compared to AC: New Leaf. There's an important piece of that discussion that I feel is often ignored: NL introduced the Dream Suite, which allowed players to create a dream address for their towns they could then share online. This let other players visit their towns without the mayor needing to allow them entry. It essentially was like exploring a cloud backup of a town, and some players got extremely creative with this, giving their towns themes and stories for dream visitors to uncover as they explored. An example of this would be the infamous Aika village. Additionally, the Able sisters' shop had a machine in it where players could make custom designs that they could upload to the internet. Other players could then download it through an assigned QR code that would be punched into the same machine in their game. Players could use this design to customize their town or their character. The 3DS’' touch screen changed the landscape for customization in Animal Crossing. While there was a lot to do in NL, the customization aspect was probably what I most remember and arguably what kept NL puttering along until the big "Welcome Amiibo" update. I think NH is the continuation of that, with perhaps the biggest proof being how quickly Luna was introduced into the game. However, in order to focus on aesthetics, the game has been stripped down to the bare essentials, with Nintendo arguably putting out an incomplete game.
This is a YMMV thing, I suppose. I see people creating in depth, stunning islands, and my immediate first thought when I spot them is that I am frankly not playing the same game as them. In the hands of someone with more creativity than me, I can see how this game could be a personal favorite. Most of the focus has been shifted to online play, trading, and island customization. I've seen "playable islands," which is stuff like island wide mazes, something that Nintendo has gotten in on themselves.
One of the biggest reveals leading up to the release of New Horizons was that your island was fully customizable. You could create your own cliffs, rivers, waterfalls, and there were a number of different customization options for bridges and inclines. DIY’d furniture could be customized, refreshed with a new coat of paint in the absence of Reese and Cyrus’ shop. These two factors, combined with how fast Luna was implemented, seem to indicate that aesthetics were the driving force of development in New Horizons. This would be fine, except there’s a number of problems that become even more strained and obvious the longer they go unaddressed.
Firstly, I would be remiss to not mention Nook Miles. A new addition to Animal Crossing, Nook Miles are a new in-game currency that you could use to purchase different items through a curated catalogue hosted by Nook Industries. You can purchase items, DIYs and Nook Mile Tickets with Nook Miles, but all of these come with a caveat. This title, more than previous titles, has had it’s online play stressed again and again for better or worse. In your Nook Miles shop, you’ll find a street light. Mine is brown, personally, but yours might be a different color; white, maybe. You will only be able to purchase that color from your Nook Miles shop— if either of us ever want a different color street lamp, we will need to get it from a second party every single time we want one. This is the same for any item for sale on the NM shop: Trading is a necessity if you want to focus on the aesthetic of your island, something that is encouraged by the game’s design.
Design surrounding customization and aesthetic in this game seem to be carefully chosen to encourage players to, well, play. Seasonal DIYs drop from balloons. You can only get certain DIYs from completing tasks— if you want the Mermaid series back, you need to hunt for scallops in the Summer so Pascal can pop up and ask you to trade your new scallop for a DIY. Talking to villagers during October can net you some Spooky DIYs. If you notice I keep mentioning DIYs, it’s because New Horizons launched with a limited selection of furniture. The Rococo line is gone, as are a number of others. They could be reintroduced at a later date, but I have to wonder if it’s too little at this point. There are new furniture sets in New Horizons, however: The wedding furniture can only be obtained by engaging in a seasonal daily minigame that loses all its charm the longer you play. The Sanrio furniture line was locked to Amiibo cards that sold out immediately, so your only hope is trading for the items, or buying knock offs of the cards online. Both options technically cost real world money— you need an online membership to trade, after all. I’ve already paid for the game, so tacking on $5 inclements to get more furniture to decorate my island when that’s what was promoted feels… well, not very consumer friendly.
With the mention of real world money and the previous mention of Nook Miles, you might be wondering how strong the similarity between a mobile Animal Crossing and New Horizons is. In talking about New Horizons, I can’t not also talk about Pocket Camp, the mobile version of Animal Crossing that comically enough has more content in it than New Horizons presently does. Part of this is the paywall— you purchase items to decorate your campsite with, but there’s also more fruit to collect in Pocket Camp, more incentive to catch fish and bugs in order to work up to those F2P options. More crossovers, collabs, more promotions; the list is exhaustive. New Horizons, in comparison, feels bare. Comparing the two feels dirty, because a mobile game functions and plans differently from a console game. When I need to pay extra money monthly to fully experience the game as intended, though, I have to wonder if New Horizons is all that different. If you’re still wondering: I wouldn’t say New Horizons has much in common with Pocket Camp beyond Nintendo’s clear greed and anti-consumer fundamentals, but this isn’t new to Nintendo. It’s simply more frustrating to see laid out in plain text.
One of the biggest misses in New Horizons is just how little time it actually spends getting you to play. There’s a severe lack of minigames, and significantly less traveling visitors to your island. Katrina is missing, and famously Brewster, but Kapp’n is nowhere to be seen either, even though there’s a dock on the beach. All three of these NPCs are associated with minigames or game mechanics, which New Horizons desperately needs. For what it’s worth, datamines consistently show that Brewster is slowly being implemented, and Katrina has been spotted on the Nintendo Online app. The dock has been in game from launch. With any luck, at least this trio might be seen in forthcoming updates, but for now, New Horizons is mostly menus and text.
Speaking of text, you read a lot of it in New Horizons.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a not-insignificant amount of my time in the game is spent doing just that simply due to menus. Since launch, a vocal part of the playerbase has been asking Nintendo to work on bulk crafting options simply because players will often do just that: craft in bulk. As an example, a recommended strategy for the fish and bug tournaments is to craft a multitude of fishing poles and nets beforehand. You go through the same set of menus every time you craft anything, and I can’t imagine that the development team did not expect players to craft in bulk at some point in designing the game— but the crafting menus are not nearly as bad as Orville’s menus. If you want to fly to another island, you’ll need to run down to the airport and talk to Orville, which kicks up a comical amount of menus. Menus lead to menus lead to menus in New Horizons. I couldn’t tell you why. I don’t know if villager hunting was a strategy the devteam planned on players engaging with, but they surely expected us to go to Mystery Islands back to back, right? I’m no longer hurting for resources in New Horizons. I don’t need more fruit or flowers or weeds or trees, so my only reason to go to these islands is to get a lucky roll or find a new villager. In the latter case, I spend much less time on the Mystery Island than in the menus upon menus. It’s odd.
Odd choices are a bound in New Horizons— updates are a Problem depending on who you talk to, but I find a lot of odd decisions are made within them. The aforementioned Nook Miles can also be obtained by visiting the terminal within Resident Services, which is fine because prior to an update where the terminal could now be accessed through your in-game phone, you could only check your new daily set of items for sale by visiting it. Now, you have to walk into the Resident Services, open the menu to get the Nook Miles, and if you’re like me, you already checked the shop, so you just leave.
Another odd decision is that the game functions on a grid. Basically, each part of your island is designed in squares. This means that some items will never be centered, and it makes terraforming— again, one of the Big Promotional Things— a bigger chore than you expect. I understand it fundamentally, but it feels like a midway point where something just doesn’t quite fit. It’s almost there, but it feels clunky and difficult more often than not. Maybe I’m just not good at it.
Additionally, while you can have multiple characters on the island, you can only have one island per console. This is an odd choice for a game where the demographic seems to be families; my younger siblings should be allowed to have their own islands on my Switch. For a game so focused on customization, I don't see why I can't have multiple islands or save datas. Then again, you have to purchase a memory card for your switch in order to have more than a handful of games on it, so perhaps it is simply a memory issue. Regardless, it is a feature I feel is necessary for games like this.
I’ve seen a lot of conversation surrounding the repetitive dialogue in the game, and I will be frank: There is a lot of it. Villagers repeat things, there’s a fair few glitches like villagers “blue screening” and we all had to put up with Raymond in a maid dress. That said, I can’t say it’s better or even worse than New Leaf. I booted up New Leaf because I remembered it very fondly, but after playing around in it for a while, I realized I had run into the same dialogue with my villagers a few times. In my experience, they’re just as lacking as before, but the bare bones gameplay has resulted in this being even more prominent than before. One thing I do miss is being invited over to villager houses at certain times and days, but missing that had no consequence in New Leaf. To be honest, I kind of miss the mean villagers from the Gamecube game. Go figure, right? I want the stress-free game to be more stressful.
This is a lot of text, and you might think I hate New Horizons. To be honest, though, I really don’t I didn’t sink 400 hours of my time into it because I had nothing to do. I got bored of it and moved onto other games: I’ve only played New Horizons in the Spring and Summer, because that’s when I get the Animal Crossing Itch. When I get back to the game, I do spend hours in it. The customization aspect of the game does hit certain points for me, and I have worked a lot on my island. My house is paid off, and nearly all decorated. I don’t open up the game out of spite— I legitimately enjoy it for a half hour or so, and then I’m done. That’s probably the intention of this game, now, but I can’t help but think about how I wish I had more to do in it. How the implication of more is in every corner of my island getaway.
The closed off upper level of Nook’s Cranny, the two empty walls on either side of the top level of the museum, the dock where Kapp’n could park his boat and wait for me to hop on in. The secret beach was eventually revealed to be where Redd docks his boat, and there’s still areas on my island where another building or two could fit. It’s like New Horizons has potential, but it doesn’t know when or how to unlock it. Maybe the problem is me though— maybe I’m looking for something exciting in my getaway package now that it’s started to feel like real life: Trapped in the same routine with no way out, doing my silly little tasks, while I hope for something to shake it up.
Anyway I think New Horizons is not a very good game
ETA: my opinion of 2.0 is reflected in how i took away half a star for it
The Path
2009
the path is a video game in which you assume the role of little red riding hood on her way to grandmother's house in the forest. it is a shockingly vibrant game, with an art style rooted in modern pop art and the uncanny valley nature of playstation 2 models, which makes the long trek to grandma's house a blindingly bright experience. it is pure white, ketchup red and vomit green with inspired, whimsical character designs laser-focused on communicating character personality and nothing else. upon reaching your goal, you shuffle uncomfortably through grandma's empty, foreboding house with a sense of unease, and then your character's model settles on the bed next to the corpse-like image of her grandmother, and you get the news. you were ranked with a "failure."
as a walking simulator, the path is equal parts game and art experience. it is a horror tinted vision where the goal is to encourage you to think and relate to the game in your own way. playing the path felt like holding a microscope up to my own recollection of childhood memories, picking out the moments that seemed to echo the path. it is primarily interested in the dissection of childhood and what it feels like to grow up in a world that you're still learning about. each of the little red riding hoods has her own personality, storyline and wolf to encounter in the woods, adding to this feeling of growing up as you play. proceeding from youngest to oldest is a stark experience of growing up from a young girl to a teenager and then burgeoning young woman; it echoed my own life experiences in a haunting way, but perhaps it wouldn't be as such for every other person out there.
decorated with a unique artstyle that indulges in the doll-like appearance of ps2 models, the path also sounds lovely with an ambience that has not be replicated in games since it. it is handcrafted to feel like a fairytale that is held together with wire, drapes and shadows, never quite revealing what it's end game is until you decide you've had enough and want to digest it on your own. it has a vested interest in leading you through an emotionally uncomfortable experience, allowing each player to have a unique take on what they interpreted the game to be about. the closest thing to it is looking at a painting and talking to other people about it: everyone notices and feels something different, so robust conversation that gives you peeks into one another as human beings feels like a component that has been baked into the path.
it is a bug-laden mess that is a pain and a half to get running these days, and when you get it to, there's still hoops to jump through. still, getting it to play feels like hitting a coffin after digging into the earth for hours. it feels like a skeleton you shouldn't be looking at, like the past is haunting you as you play.
it's worth noting that there is simply no user interface to this game. in fact, it probably is one of the earliest examples of a modern game completely forgoing a UI to hammer in the experience of it's stage. it expects you to learn to walk on your own, taking the game at your own pace and exploring as you wish, alongside the red riding hood of your choice. in this day and age, this doesn't quite achieve the effect it did almost fifteen years ago, but i'm sure that it added to the sense of disorientation back then. it just felt like something worth mentioning: there are multiple instances where things feel dated. the intuitive ui is one example, but the writing can be another. overwrought at times with a desperate need to sound like a page out of a fairytale, it can miss the mark when it really cannot afford to.
i don't think this is a game for everyone and i would hesitate to recommend it even to close friends. if you like stuff like night in the woods or what remains of edith finch, this #ArtGame might be for you. it's a masterclass in atmosphere, topped with some of the most uncomfortable gaming experiences i've ever had that were completely on purpose. the path is also arguably the best of tale of tales' gaming catalogue, and the development team's thumbprint is still pressed into the silicon form of gaming today.
as a walking simulator, the path is equal parts game and art experience. it is a horror tinted vision where the goal is to encourage you to think and relate to the game in your own way. playing the path felt like holding a microscope up to my own recollection of childhood memories, picking out the moments that seemed to echo the path. it is primarily interested in the dissection of childhood and what it feels like to grow up in a world that you're still learning about. each of the little red riding hoods has her own personality, storyline and wolf to encounter in the woods, adding to this feeling of growing up as you play. proceeding from youngest to oldest is a stark experience of growing up from a young girl to a teenager and then burgeoning young woman; it echoed my own life experiences in a haunting way, but perhaps it wouldn't be as such for every other person out there.
decorated with a unique artstyle that indulges in the doll-like appearance of ps2 models, the path also sounds lovely with an ambience that has not be replicated in games since it. it is handcrafted to feel like a fairytale that is held together with wire, drapes and shadows, never quite revealing what it's end game is until you decide you've had enough and want to digest it on your own. it has a vested interest in leading you through an emotionally uncomfortable experience, allowing each player to have a unique take on what they interpreted the game to be about. the closest thing to it is looking at a painting and talking to other people about it: everyone notices and feels something different, so robust conversation that gives you peeks into one another as human beings feels like a component that has been baked into the path.
it is a bug-laden mess that is a pain and a half to get running these days, and when you get it to, there's still hoops to jump through. still, getting it to play feels like hitting a coffin after digging into the earth for hours. it feels like a skeleton you shouldn't be looking at, like the past is haunting you as you play.
it's worth noting that there is simply no user interface to this game. in fact, it probably is one of the earliest examples of a modern game completely forgoing a UI to hammer in the experience of it's stage. it expects you to learn to walk on your own, taking the game at your own pace and exploring as you wish, alongside the red riding hood of your choice. in this day and age, this doesn't quite achieve the effect it did almost fifteen years ago, but i'm sure that it added to the sense of disorientation back then. it just felt like something worth mentioning: there are multiple instances where things feel dated. the intuitive ui is one example, but the writing can be another. overwrought at times with a desperate need to sound like a page out of a fairytale, it can miss the mark when it really cannot afford to.
i don't think this is a game for everyone and i would hesitate to recommend it even to close friends. if you like stuff like night in the woods or what remains of edith finch, this #ArtGame might be for you. it's a masterclass in atmosphere, topped with some of the most uncomfortable gaming experiences i've ever had that were completely on purpose. the path is also arguably the best of tale of tales' gaming catalogue, and the development team's thumbprint is still pressed into the silicon form of gaming today.
Neon White
2022
it's hard for me to write a review about this game. i feel like it was designed in a lab to be optimally enjoyable for exactly me, much like how McDonald's french fries are chemically engineered to be Mathematically and Provably Delicious for the general American public.
i can't talk about Neon White without talking about Arcane Kids. in the mid-10s, being someone who staked a lot of identity into playing games was profoundly embarassing. ignoring the truly heinous shit that goes without saying, year after year, AAA studios continued to pump out "mids at best." on the other side of things, "indie" games were no longer new and were in something of an awkward puberty. i can't tell you how many "physics-based puzzle platformers with a gimmick" i had pitched to me that promised to be Actually Good. they weren't. however, during this time, the Unity weirdos were churning away in their art scenes around the globe. the new derisive joke became "make a game in unity, make a million dollars." of course, the people making these jokes didn't know what they were talking about, but i guess none of us really did back then.
---
Arcane Kids existed as something of an antithesis to the games of the time. when we had more than enough pixel-art RPGs, they gave us ZINETH. when we got innundated with walking simulators, they gave us Bubsy 3D: Bubsy Visits the James Turrell Retrospective. when indies decided to try and be funny with things like Goat Simulator, we got Sonic Dreams Collection, CRAP! No One Loves Me, and this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RNCyc3hzAw). while a lot of these games were "funny" or "jokes," they always had deeper ideas to them beneath the surface around player agency, the joy of moving your avatar, the love of Videogames As Videogames.
i cannot possibly explain how strange it felt to turn on the game and have the title screen after the intro cutscene splash in with a voice echoing "NEON WHITE" as the moodiest witch house track creeps in through your headphones. the fake scanlines, the neon glow on the characters, the tone, the vibes. i thought to myself, "they finally did it." as i played more, i confirmed my suspicions.
Arcane Kids finally made the game it feels like they had been working toward all these years. blazing fast, huge jumps, easy-to-learn-but-hard-to-master, tight, violent, horny, loud, freaky, all at once. in Mission 11, as breakneck-paced breakcore blasted out of my screen, i screamed aloud in my room to my partner who was watching me play "I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS. GAME." in time with each click of the RMB that shot me across the map at incredible speeds. in moments like this, you know for a fact that moments like Bubsy pulling out an uzi and a katana at the end of Bubsy 3D or them subjecting a crowd of people at a game conference to vape trick videos that inspired their previous game (https://youtu.be/2pO23GTaBtk?si=ldB9w6CU2UC3TkHI&t=1791) was not just them contributing to the general irony-poisoned sense of humor of the time; they legitimately thought that it was tight as fuck.
-----
one line from the infamous Arcane Kids Manifesto (https://arcanekids.com/manifesto) that i always think about is "the purpose of gameplay is to hide secrets."
at a time when even FromSoft has started to move away from their smaller, more-focused world design in favor of chasing the lucrative open-world design potential in Elden Ring, it feels amazing that we have a game like Neon White that is about intricately crafted and infinitely replayable level design. after years of waiting, we finally have the one true Indie Puzzle Platformer, but this time it has guns.
the gameplay (for me, usually) fell into a flowchart like this:
-beat a level once and get whatever medal you get
-go back to find the secret gift
-during this second trip, notice which parts of the levels you can skip or save time on that were hidden to you before
-play the level a 3rd time to get a gold medal
-use the hint from the Gold medal to get an Ace medal on your 4th time
-over time, you begin to amass a collection of "hey, did you know this quirk" movement secrets like shooting bullets, bunny hopping after a dash, or sliding with the shotgun's discard
game design that calls attention to itself like this is beautiful. level designers are artists. we've known this since Doom WADs. however, in the time since Doom we've had several games like Gears of War, Halo, and their ilk that said "wasn't the sickest part about Doom being a huge buff guy with loud guns just blasting disgusting freaks and seeing them explode???" while that does indeed whip, Neon White is on the other side of the coin saying "wasn't the best part about Doom the level design and the joy of figuring out how to move as fast as you can through a level???"
after 11 years of watching speedrunning streams nearly every day, Neon White finally made me feel like maybe i could do it too. first you pit yourself against the Ace medal time, then your friends, then the Dev Times, then your own ghost, and then the world. to this day, i have yet to have a global #1, but i've had a #2 and two #3s. i'll keep going though.
[EDIT 7/17/23: i did it :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWT2b9pwRMI]
---
Neon White is a love letter in videogame form
i can't talk about Neon White without talking about Arcane Kids. in the mid-10s, being someone who staked a lot of identity into playing games was profoundly embarassing. ignoring the truly heinous shit that goes without saying, year after year, AAA studios continued to pump out "mids at best." on the other side of things, "indie" games were no longer new and were in something of an awkward puberty. i can't tell you how many "physics-based puzzle platformers with a gimmick" i had pitched to me that promised to be Actually Good. they weren't. however, during this time, the Unity weirdos were churning away in their art scenes around the globe. the new derisive joke became "make a game in unity, make a million dollars." of course, the people making these jokes didn't know what they were talking about, but i guess none of us really did back then.
---
Arcane Kids existed as something of an antithesis to the games of the time. when we had more than enough pixel-art RPGs, they gave us ZINETH. when we got innundated with walking simulators, they gave us Bubsy 3D: Bubsy Visits the James Turrell Retrospective. when indies decided to try and be funny with things like Goat Simulator, we got Sonic Dreams Collection, CRAP! No One Loves Me, and this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RNCyc3hzAw). while a lot of these games were "funny" or "jokes," they always had deeper ideas to them beneath the surface around player agency, the joy of moving your avatar, the love of Videogames As Videogames.
i cannot possibly explain how strange it felt to turn on the game and have the title screen after the intro cutscene splash in with a voice echoing "NEON WHITE" as the moodiest witch house track creeps in through your headphones. the fake scanlines, the neon glow on the characters, the tone, the vibes. i thought to myself, "they finally did it." as i played more, i confirmed my suspicions.
Arcane Kids finally made the game it feels like they had been working toward all these years. blazing fast, huge jumps, easy-to-learn-but-hard-to-master, tight, violent, horny, loud, freaky, all at once. in Mission 11, as breakneck-paced breakcore blasted out of my screen, i screamed aloud in my room to my partner who was watching me play "I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS. GAME." in time with each click of the RMB that shot me across the map at incredible speeds. in moments like this, you know for a fact that moments like Bubsy pulling out an uzi and a katana at the end of Bubsy 3D or them subjecting a crowd of people at a game conference to vape trick videos that inspired their previous game (https://youtu.be/2pO23GTaBtk?si=ldB9w6CU2UC3TkHI&t=1791) was not just them contributing to the general irony-poisoned sense of humor of the time; they legitimately thought that it was tight as fuck.
-----
one line from the infamous Arcane Kids Manifesto (https://arcanekids.com/manifesto) that i always think about is "the purpose of gameplay is to hide secrets."
at a time when even FromSoft has started to move away from their smaller, more-focused world design in favor of chasing the lucrative open-world design potential in Elden Ring, it feels amazing that we have a game like Neon White that is about intricately crafted and infinitely replayable level design. after years of waiting, we finally have the one true Indie Puzzle Platformer, but this time it has guns.
the gameplay (for me, usually) fell into a flowchart like this:
-beat a level once and get whatever medal you get
-go back to find the secret gift
-during this second trip, notice which parts of the levels you can skip or save time on that were hidden to you before
-play the level a 3rd time to get a gold medal
-use the hint from the Gold medal to get an Ace medal on your 4th time
-over time, you begin to amass a collection of "hey, did you know this quirk" movement secrets like shooting bullets, bunny hopping after a dash, or sliding with the shotgun's discard
game design that calls attention to itself like this is beautiful. level designers are artists. we've known this since Doom WADs. however, in the time since Doom we've had several games like Gears of War, Halo, and their ilk that said "wasn't the sickest part about Doom being a huge buff guy with loud guns just blasting disgusting freaks and seeing them explode???" while that does indeed whip, Neon White is on the other side of the coin saying "wasn't the best part about Doom the level design and the joy of figuring out how to move as fast as you can through a level???"
after 11 years of watching speedrunning streams nearly every day, Neon White finally made me feel like maybe i could do it too. first you pit yourself against the Ace medal time, then your friends, then the Dev Times, then your own ghost, and then the world. to this day, i have yet to have a global #1, but i've had a #2 and two #3s. i'll keep going though.
[EDIT 7/17/23: i did it :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWT2b9pwRMI]
---
Neon White is a love letter in videogame form
i'm an old crone at this point in my life, so i have fond memories of the internet prior to it's sanitization for advertisers. i spent a lot of time online in my youth and was practically raised on the old, moderated nickeloden forums on a diet of spongebob flash games. flash is now dead and in it's wake is links to subscribe to watch, or links to shops. advertisers' chokehold on the internet has forced people to congregate onto the same social media websites, meaning that while i grew up flipping krabby patties or helping blue solve clues, a lot of children are spending hours scrolling through tiktok or even watching not at all child-safe streams on twitch. meanwhile, it's near impossible to have adult spaces because of this. advertisers want everything to be family friendly, but remove all possible child friendly parts of the internet in an attempt to monetize further.
this advertiser friendly internet is the setting for needy streamer overload. the goal is to help ame achieve a seemingly impossible milestone of one million subscribers to her METUBE channel in one month. on it's surface level, nso is a critique of the clout chase or worse yet, Streamer Girl Culture. ame is a vapid young woman who believes her face is one of her better qualities and can do the heavy lifting for her budding streaming career. she concocts a character for her to act as, "OMGkawaiiangel" or "KAngel", the internet angel. prior to every stream, she has a tongue-in-cheek magical girl transformation to represent this change of character.
this separation of identity is a running theme in nso. ame has been raised by the internet, neglected by her family and is seemingly friendless in real life. p-chan is her only companion, and she deludes herself into thinking that they're the only person she truly needs. as an ol' biddy, i remember the pre-advertiser friendly internet being a wild west of sorts. you had your online life and your irl completely separated. now, parasocial relationships are a problem you can take to the bank. ame even counts on this and wants people to adopt a near idol-esque view of kangel. she hides she has a partner from her viewers, and there's even a few comments stating how upset people would be, in universe, if kangel did have a partner. to keep her career growing, she has to make sure this fictional character she acts as never entirely gets away from her, but still give the people what they want. it's a dynamic that sends her further spiraling in her addictive, delusional behaviors.
there are references to the current state of the internet and how things functioned in the past in game. ame dates herself by mentioning she used to record episodes of anime to VHS, a technological advancement that hasn't very relevant since the year 2000. i know plenty of young women like her, who are walking contradictions used to compartmentalizing parts of themselves to be accessible, friendly, or consumable. i'd count myself part of that demographic. it's a tactic born from either trauma or spending wholly too much time online. i spent the entirety of my teens hiding my internet on-goings from my parents, even though they definitely weren't unaware i had internet friends. this wedge between rl and internet has grown even bigger in the recent years as people scramble to figure out ways to monetize the internet further. now, everyone i know has a public twitter account and a locked twitter account. a public persona and a private persona, much like ame herself.
while there's definitely something the game wants to say about clout chasing, it also seems interested in discussing how the current state of the internet encourages people to indulge in the ways ame does. she very clearly has an internet addiction to go with her drug addiction because she just can't seem to log off. she always rises to the challenge of chat's insults, and can't walk away. tying herself to the internet as her way of making money to survive is more than counter-productive to her state of mind: it's actively hurting her. this is represented in her relationship with herself and with p-chan. self-harm through addictive behavior threads itself through needy streamer overload's narrative the same way sutures run along a wound. narratively speaking, i think the game is often misunderstood by people who love it and people who hate it. the core of the game is concerned with self-betterment and in order to get to that point, ame has to see the worst parts of herself. seeing it touted purely as an abusive relationship simulator is a gross misread of needy streamer overload. it's both about logging off as much as it is a small love letter to the internet of yore. i don't think it's a coincidence that NPCs chatter about how the internet doesn't feel like it has a place for people like them anymore. all the same, ame hasn't been helped by the internet before and her shaky sense of identity born out of loneliness is only fed to the wolves here.
despite the surprisingly expansive narrative and wealth of replayability, nso often feels like a slog and a half. i enjoy raising sims but something about this feels tedious. maybe it's ame herself and how uncomfortable it can be telling her what to do, but keeping track of her stats and trying to hold out to the end of the month is less stressful and more of an annoyance at times. some endings are just flat out unpleasant to get, for the wrong reasons. there's one ending in particular that is obviously a doki doki literature club nod and i would truly say it's probably my least favorite ending i've gotten in a game like this in years. in fact, the ddlc nods in nso are frankly just painful to sit through. buuuut maybe it's just me.
not all of nso's inspirations are as cringefail comp to me, though, because the menhera inspired aesthetic sticks the landing. pastel, girly colors accented by the blocky pixel art style reminiscent of both early 2000s anime and RPGmaker games from the same gives the impression of something released around five to ten years ago. i can't help but think of ib or hello charlotte when i look at needy streamer overload. menhera itself is a movement in japan similar to punk where those part of the subculture dress in cute, comfortable clothing with mental health awareness themed coords to beat down the stigma surrounding discussion of one's mental health. i wouldn't call it menhera themed so much as inspired, but mental heatlh is an important conversation in nso. regardless, it's very eye-catching and nice to look at. nyalra's nailed it with their designs and inspirations. the music is also exceptional. i found myself moving in time with the instrumentals often, aiobahn & is a very talented musician. ame is also a realistic depiction of a young internet addictive woman, and genuinely charming more often than not. i hope she logs off often!
reception to needy streamer overload has been a seesaw. people either think it's absolute dogshit or a complete masterpiece. personally, i think it's more of a middling experience with some standout moments from the narrative. it's also a shining example of what an excellent localization can do for a game; i think this would be a lot more niche than it is were it not for how good the adaption of memes and internet language as a whole is in nso. ultimately, i'm wishing the team behind it a long, fruitful career in game dev.
this advertiser friendly internet is the setting for needy streamer overload. the goal is to help ame achieve a seemingly impossible milestone of one million subscribers to her METUBE channel in one month. on it's surface level, nso is a critique of the clout chase or worse yet, Streamer Girl Culture. ame is a vapid young woman who believes her face is one of her better qualities and can do the heavy lifting for her budding streaming career. she concocts a character for her to act as, "OMGkawaiiangel" or "KAngel", the internet angel. prior to every stream, she has a tongue-in-cheek magical girl transformation to represent this change of character.
this separation of identity is a running theme in nso. ame has been raised by the internet, neglected by her family and is seemingly friendless in real life. p-chan is her only companion, and she deludes herself into thinking that they're the only person she truly needs. as an ol' biddy, i remember the pre-advertiser friendly internet being a wild west of sorts. you had your online life and your irl completely separated. now, parasocial relationships are a problem you can take to the bank. ame even counts on this and wants people to adopt a near idol-esque view of kangel. she hides she has a partner from her viewers, and there's even a few comments stating how upset people would be, in universe, if kangel did have a partner. to keep her career growing, she has to make sure this fictional character she acts as never entirely gets away from her, but still give the people what they want. it's a dynamic that sends her further spiraling in her addictive, delusional behaviors.
there are references to the current state of the internet and how things functioned in the past in game. ame dates herself by mentioning she used to record episodes of anime to VHS, a technological advancement that hasn't very relevant since the year 2000. i know plenty of young women like her, who are walking contradictions used to compartmentalizing parts of themselves to be accessible, friendly, or consumable. i'd count myself part of that demographic. it's a tactic born from either trauma or spending wholly too much time online. i spent the entirety of my teens hiding my internet on-goings from my parents, even though they definitely weren't unaware i had internet friends. this wedge between rl and internet has grown even bigger in the recent years as people scramble to figure out ways to monetize the internet further. now, everyone i know has a public twitter account and a locked twitter account. a public persona and a private persona, much like ame herself.
while there's definitely something the game wants to say about clout chasing, it also seems interested in discussing how the current state of the internet encourages people to indulge in the ways ame does. she very clearly has an internet addiction to go with her drug addiction because she just can't seem to log off. she always rises to the challenge of chat's insults, and can't walk away. tying herself to the internet as her way of making money to survive is more than counter-productive to her state of mind: it's actively hurting her. this is represented in her relationship with herself and with p-chan. self-harm through addictive behavior threads itself through needy streamer overload's narrative the same way sutures run along a wound. narratively speaking, i think the game is often misunderstood by people who love it and people who hate it. the core of the game is concerned with self-betterment and in order to get to that point, ame has to see the worst parts of herself. seeing it touted purely as an abusive relationship simulator is a gross misread of needy streamer overload. it's both about logging off as much as it is a small love letter to the internet of yore. i don't think it's a coincidence that NPCs chatter about how the internet doesn't feel like it has a place for people like them anymore. all the same, ame hasn't been helped by the internet before and her shaky sense of identity born out of loneliness is only fed to the wolves here.
despite the surprisingly expansive narrative and wealth of replayability, nso often feels like a slog and a half. i enjoy raising sims but something about this feels tedious. maybe it's ame herself and how uncomfortable it can be telling her what to do, but keeping track of her stats and trying to hold out to the end of the month is less stressful and more of an annoyance at times. some endings are just flat out unpleasant to get, for the wrong reasons. there's one ending in particular that is obviously a doki doki literature club nod and i would truly say it's probably my least favorite ending i've gotten in a game like this in years. in fact, the ddlc nods in nso are frankly just painful to sit through. buuuut maybe it's just me.
not all of nso's inspirations are as cringefail comp to me, though, because the menhera inspired aesthetic sticks the landing. pastel, girly colors accented by the blocky pixel art style reminiscent of both early 2000s anime and RPGmaker games from the same gives the impression of something released around five to ten years ago. i can't help but think of ib or hello charlotte when i look at needy streamer overload. menhera itself is a movement in japan similar to punk where those part of the subculture dress in cute, comfortable clothing with mental health awareness themed coords to beat down the stigma surrounding discussion of one's mental health. i wouldn't call it menhera themed so much as inspired, but mental heatlh is an important conversation in nso. regardless, it's very eye-catching and nice to look at. nyalra's nailed it with their designs and inspirations. the music is also exceptional. i found myself moving in time with the instrumentals often, aiobahn & is a very talented musician. ame is also a realistic depiction of a young internet addictive woman, and genuinely charming more often than not. i hope she logs off often!
reception to needy streamer overload has been a seesaw. people either think it's absolute dogshit or a complete masterpiece. personally, i think it's more of a middling experience with some standout moments from the narrative. it's also a shining example of what an excellent localization can do for a game; i think this would be a lot more niche than it is were it not for how good the adaption of memes and internet language as a whole is in nso. ultimately, i'm wishing the team behind it a long, fruitful career in game dev.
i tried this after a friend who i didnt take for liking these types of games sung its praises, and man just from the first time period its writing is honestly....really really good. understands the internal state of elementary kids really well, of a time when any dumb argument could feel like a massive rift, when nothing gestures could be imbued with love that you couldnt really understand yourself at the time, the sensations of having a childhood crush and navigating the personalities of other children. it allows you to re-enter that space through how you interpret your dialogue choices and its so effective. theres a part where you go to a bbq and it actually overwhelmed me, reminding of an instance of where i wanted to feel safe with one of my parents out of some sense of sensory overload that i dont recall the cause of. could be something like that for you in this.
its fluff yeah but incredibly nostalgic and emotionally acute fluff. im not done with this, im waiting until its all out before i keep going, but its been impressive so far and im hoping it keeps up for the rest of it.
its fluff yeah but incredibly nostalgic and emotionally acute fluff. im not done with this, im waiting until its all out before i keep going, but its been impressive so far and im hoping it keeps up for the rest of it.
What seems like a very simple, flash-in-the-pan management game is ultimately none of that at all.
Needy Streamer Overload is a game that doesn't pull any punches as it explores the myriad ways that the internet unnoticeably changes our brains and thought patterns, and that unflinching devotion to honesty, even in the face of extremely dark, disturbing content matter, is what it makes hit so hard. None of it is for shock value, sheer meanness, or the pursuit of edge aesthetic, though. It's simply what's required for the game's message, and game's message is devastatingly poignant.
NSO is distressingly genuine, with the mirror it holds up to society and ourselves casting a wide enough net that you're bound to see seeds of you or someone you know in something that happens to Ame. And, well...that sucks. And it's hard not to feel like I need to do something for myself because of that.
Needy Streamer Overload is a game that doesn't pull any punches as it explores the myriad ways that the internet unnoticeably changes our brains and thought patterns, and that unflinching devotion to honesty, even in the face of extremely dark, disturbing content matter, is what it makes hit so hard. None of it is for shock value, sheer meanness, or the pursuit of edge aesthetic, though. It's simply what's required for the game's message, and game's message is devastatingly poignant.
NSO is distressingly genuine, with the mirror it holds up to society and ourselves casting a wide enough net that you're bound to see seeds of you or someone you know in something that happens to Ame. And, well...that sucks. And it's hard not to feel like I need to do something for myself because of that.
A super unflinching look at the ways the internet preys on our worst tendencies and regards the hurt it causes with apathy at best.
Both extremely funny and intensely threatening all at once, I really appreciate how real the whole game is, honestly. There were a lot of times where Ame's behavior in certain endings, while taken to an extreme in a lot of cases, very much made things feel like I was seeing myself from the outside in. I've never been in quite as dark a headspace as she gets into in places here, but I could very easily see my life veering in just as many self-destructive directions if things had turned out even a little differently. The writing here is extremely sharp, and while I'd definitely still play and likely enjoy a lighter version of this game's basic premise, I'm glad this is willing to explore territory this dark without holding back at all.
I loved it, a lot of it will stick with me for a very long time. Just go in knowing that things can get extremely, extremely heavy. There's a content warning at the start for a reason.
Both extremely funny and intensely threatening all at once, I really appreciate how real the whole game is, honestly. There were a lot of times where Ame's behavior in certain endings, while taken to an extreme in a lot of cases, very much made things feel like I was seeing myself from the outside in. I've never been in quite as dark a headspace as she gets into in places here, but I could very easily see my life veering in just as many self-destructive directions if things had turned out even a little differently. The writing here is extremely sharp, and while I'd definitely still play and likely enjoy a lighter version of this game's basic premise, I'm glad this is willing to explore territory this dark without holding back at all.
I loved it, a lot of it will stick with me for a very long time. Just go in knowing that things can get extremely, extremely heavy. There's a content warning at the start for a reason.
This review contains spoilers
"how do i get to 1 million followers without ame breaking down, being unhappy or being pushed to her limit? :("
that's the point. you mostly can't.
so, this is only the second vn i've ever played, and the first did not prepare me for this. i haven't gotten ALL of the endings, but many of them seem to bad endings that are only really be attainable if you neglect or mistreat ame and i...can't really bring myself to do that so take this review with a grain of salt. i probably won't see many of the worse scenes myself, but i do know there's one scene where ame forces you to cut her wrists, and it is possible to overdose on "medication". so uh. yeah. can you guess that i never did the no mercy route in undertale?
so first up, this game does NOT shy away from the issues you'd figure it'd deal with, being kinda menhera in nature. suicide, drugs, self harm, depression, delusions, things in that ballpark. every so often ame will go off the rails and panic and doubt everything and will need p-chan's assurance. if it hits too close to home it can be a little tiring to play for a long time though (anyone who knows that kinda pain knows it's not fun, it's not desirable, it's not something anyone would want to live with)
but that's kinda what i like? it doesn't romanticise the whole "i wish i had a mentally ill streamer gf :)" aesthetic (later edit: kinda debatable, but.), nor does it demonise her as in the wrong for just wanting to live a life without her pain, no, it faces them and some of the realities of mental illness head-on. it doesn't go VERY into depth, i mean, i wasn't expecting groundbreaking psychonauts-tier exploration, but just enough to make its point. especially on the nature of being Very Online and of making connections online. it truly faces the harsh realities of mental illness, online communication and finding your way in society.
i am familiar enough with how ame and p-chan think and what it's like to be around people like them. for that reason, the game was a little uncomfortable to play at the start - ame is very standoffish at lower affection levels and is very prickly if you give her the "wrong" response. not a fun reminder. i'll be real: she is not a nice person. learning healthier thought patterns isn't really the goal of the game though, and that's more just something that happens in some endings maybe?? but yeah. she is very much someone who projects her pain onto others.
sometimes you see what the game seems to hint to her being: a lonely young woman in pain, in desperate need of love and approval. in those moments i feel bad for her because we've all been there. it's on realising this that the game started to click bc honestly?? given the dialogue choices, p-chan's also kinda a jerk. so many times i'm given dialogue choices where i'm like...i don't like any of these :/ sometimes i just wanna tell ame not to talk so lowly of herself, and it doesn't help that there are only really two stickers that can be interpreted as positive responses (when would i ever use the idc sticker other than being a jerk on purpose)
i'm mostly saying a lot bc i'm still playing but tl;dr: man. if this game had gone more all in on the mental health angle and gone a little more into ame's unhealthy behaviours i MAY have liked this a little more. the stream "minigame" is decent enough but let's be real, maybe the unhealthy part is the point; that stardom and being a streamer will not always lead to success, and more often than not leads to ruin. bc the game's right. i know wonderful streamers who started streaming because they were really down, but they've all made their own way since then. but rely on others to make you a person all the time, and it will not turn out well.
as for the music, i'd...call it a weak point tbh :< even the image song for this doesn't show up prominently and most of the bgm doesn't stick out and can even get repetitive. it's good when you listen to it by themselves but ingame they don't work so well (ie angel yamu, ascension of angel and internet overdose go hard, but you'll spend most of the game hearing the track referred to as angel boring)
did i write too many words about what might just be an "idol management sim" to some? maybe. but that's ok. i have many more words.
( i really wish they properly listed content/trigger warnings though ;; )
that's the point. you mostly can't.
so, this is only the second vn i've ever played, and the first did not prepare me for this. i haven't gotten ALL of the endings, but many of them seem to bad endings that are only really be attainable if you neglect or mistreat ame and i...can't really bring myself to do that so take this review with a grain of salt. i probably won't see many of the worse scenes myself, but i do know there's one scene where ame forces you to cut her wrists, and it is possible to overdose on "medication". so uh. yeah. can you guess that i never did the no mercy route in undertale?
so first up, this game does NOT shy away from the issues you'd figure it'd deal with, being kinda menhera in nature. suicide, drugs, self harm, depression, delusions, things in that ballpark. every so often ame will go off the rails and panic and doubt everything and will need p-chan's assurance. if it hits too close to home it can be a little tiring to play for a long time though (anyone who knows that kinda pain knows it's not fun, it's not desirable, it's not something anyone would want to live with)
but that's kinda what i like? it doesn't romanticise the whole "i wish i had a mentally ill streamer gf :)" aesthetic (later edit: kinda debatable, but.), nor does it demonise her as in the wrong for just wanting to live a life without her pain, no, it faces them and some of the realities of mental illness head-on. it doesn't go VERY into depth, i mean, i wasn't expecting groundbreaking psychonauts-tier exploration, but just enough to make its point. especially on the nature of being Very Online and of making connections online. it truly faces the harsh realities of mental illness, online communication and finding your way in society.
i am familiar enough with how ame and p-chan think and what it's like to be around people like them. for that reason, the game was a little uncomfortable to play at the start - ame is very standoffish at lower affection levels and is very prickly if you give her the "wrong" response. not a fun reminder. i'll be real: she is not a nice person. learning healthier thought patterns isn't really the goal of the game though, and that's more just something that happens in some endings maybe?? but yeah. she is very much someone who projects her pain onto others.
sometimes you see what the game seems to hint to her being: a lonely young woman in pain, in desperate need of love and approval. in those moments i feel bad for her because we've all been there. it's on realising this that the game started to click bc honestly?? given the dialogue choices, p-chan's also kinda a jerk. so many times i'm given dialogue choices where i'm like...i don't like any of these :/ sometimes i just wanna tell ame not to talk so lowly of herself, and it doesn't help that there are only really two stickers that can be interpreted as positive responses (when would i ever use the idc sticker other than being a jerk on purpose)
i'm mostly saying a lot bc i'm still playing but tl;dr: man. if this game had gone more all in on the mental health angle and gone a little more into ame's unhealthy behaviours i MAY have liked this a little more. the stream "minigame" is decent enough but let's be real, maybe the unhealthy part is the point; that stardom and being a streamer will not always lead to success, and more often than not leads to ruin. bc the game's right. i know wonderful streamers who started streaming because they were really down, but they've all made their own way since then. but rely on others to make you a person all the time, and it will not turn out well.
as for the music, i'd...call it a weak point tbh :< even the image song for this doesn't show up prominently and most of the bgm doesn't stick out and can even get repetitive. it's good when you listen to it by themselves but ingame they don't work so well (ie angel yamu, ascension of angel and internet overdose go hard, but you'll spend most of the game hearing the track referred to as angel boring)
did i write too many words about what might just be an "idol management sim" to some? maybe. but that's ok. i have many more words.
( i really wish they properly listed content/trigger warnings though ;; )
"princess maker but for mentally ill e-girls" is a polarizing concept. i was excited by the grim premise, but also concerned that it could come across less as parody and more as a disturbing fetishization of itself in the same kind of way "milk outside a bag..." ended up
i'm happy to say it sticks the landing as the former. while ame is definitely easy to get attached to for her convincing and genuinely excellent writing (hats off to the localization team - you guys fuckin' nailed it) it's still abundantly clear that the relationship between the streamer and her producer is a codependent and mutually destructive one
the self awareness goes two ways, and thankfully no punches are pulled. for every funny reference or silly moment there's an equal measure of rightfully tactless and bluntly disturbing content that's bound to transport you back to your most emotionally abusive relationships. ame's a fucking mess and the game never wants you to forget that, but it also doesn't shy away from pointing out that you're a shitbag too
check it out, but don't take it too seriously. after all, this is an idol management sim where the best outcome results from getting therapy and abandoning streaming altogether
actually - take that last part extremely seriously
i'm happy to say it sticks the landing as the former. while ame is definitely easy to get attached to for her convincing and genuinely excellent writing (hats off to the localization team - you guys fuckin' nailed it) it's still abundantly clear that the relationship between the streamer and her producer is a codependent and mutually destructive one
the self awareness goes two ways, and thankfully no punches are pulled. for every funny reference or silly moment there's an equal measure of rightfully tactless and bluntly disturbing content that's bound to transport you back to your most emotionally abusive relationships. ame's a fucking mess and the game never wants you to forget that, but it also doesn't shy away from pointing out that you're a shitbag too
check it out, but don't take it too seriously. after all, this is an idol management sim where the best outcome results from getting therapy and abandoning streaming altogether
actually - take that last part extremely seriously
The tale this game tells with a girl with a desperate need for approval and how her only coping mechanisms are online approval from strangers and numbers is honestly quite realistic and relevant, especially now. I don't think this story could have been told in any other format and this is what I hope video games can be something that's relevant not only for now but in the future. People will use this game for all sorts of arguments for and against streamer culture and vtubers but its main message is just fucking go outside.
This game is my game of the year regardless of how good some others might be when they finally release this one is the one I'll hold in the highest regard and my hope is that it stays niche. Legitimately one of the best surprises to come out this year and I eagerly await more from nyarla and ohisashiburi
This game is my game of the year regardless of how good some others might be when they finally release this one is the one I'll hold in the highest regard and my hope is that it stays niche. Legitimately one of the best surprises to come out this year and I eagerly await more from nyarla and ohisashiburi