Patapons, Zigotons, and Everything In-Between
The other day, I went out to lunch with my mother in penance for being such an absentee son. After waxing ridiculous about IHOP’s Horton Hears a Who cross-promotion (pancakes that secrete pink and blue something, and Sprite mixed with insoluble hard candies), I attempted to explain Patapon, a game on the PSP, to my mom. Understand that, under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have even given thought to such a feeble gesture, but having only just discovered Patapon’s joys mere minutes earlier, I was determined to spread the word.
As you probably expected, the end result was disastrous. She thought the game’s concept sounded weird and lame, and I was sadly without disciples for my Pataponian movement. Well, having invested a little more time in the game, I’ve now realized that, contrary to the results of my lunchtime escapade, Patapon is an excellent title for those hard of gaming. At the same time, however, it’s unfortunately incapable of reaching many of those people.
So, you’ve stuck with me this long; I think it’s time to actually explain Patapon. It is, at first glance, a simplistic rhythm game wherein you guide a handful of eyeball people by banging on ethereal drums. Now, I’ll admit that this concept sounds extremely odd, but it’s really fun! Basically, you’re a god of sorts, and each “pata” and “pon” of your drums drives your tribe of eyeball people forward. And they really are a tribe: they utilize primitive weaponry, display the heads of their fallen foes for all to see, and practice voodoo magic (that actually works).
Sounds creepy, right? Wrong. Patapon is wrapped in the most tasteful candy-coated aesthetic I’ve ever seen, and without it, the game would fail. Each tiny tribesman is uniquely adorable, and even the game’s Jurassic-sized bosses, at their fiercest, look fit to be Barney the Dinosaur’s rebellious cousins. But while the graphics are stunning in their simplicity, they’re far from the main attraction. That honor goes to the music, which takes the form of initially simple chantings composed on-the-fly by your characters.
It’s no exaggeration to say that these chantings are the core of the entire game. Each time you beat out a simple pattern on your drums (controlled by the PSP’s shape-themed buttons), the game’s music takes an upswing. Soon, your little army gets so riled-up that it enters Fever mode and begins shredding through all that gets in its path, causing your enemies to rue the day the were born into a strictly two-dimensional world. All throughout the madness, however, you have to keep up with the rhythm; every few seconds, “pata pata pata pon” must rebound off your drums or else your army will literally lose its rhythm and fall to the ground. As you can imagine, it takes a fair amount of concentration for something that seems so simple. But that’s why Patapon is an ideal non-gamer’s game.
See, thus far, I’ve only given you the skinny on Patapon’s basic gameplay — something so basic that you need only one hand to play it*. With hardly any previous gaming experience, a soccer mom, businessman, or annoying younger sibling would find themselves comfortably fitting into Patapon’s addictive stylings. But with a wee bit of digging, they’d discover something truly deep.
For one thing, Patapon isn’t simply about moving and attacking. There’s defending, too. End of paragraph. It’s about managing the ebb and flow of those advances. If you advance at the incorrect time, you’ll find yourself falling to the slings and arrows of outrageous, well, slings and arrows. In addition, at a point in the game where you should be sufficiently skilled in managing the battle’s flow, Patapon introduces you to miracles. Since you’re a god, it only makes sense that you’d get a few perks aside from banging on the drum all day, and miracles fit the bill. They come at a cost, however: Fever. As an example, one miracle allows you to call down rain from the heavens — subsequently putting out fires and making your eye-tribe’s mascara run. But what happens when a boss sets your army on fire? Do you allow your devoted followers to suffer a hell on earth in order to do more damage to the boss, or do you put out the fire in the hopes that causalities will be lessened? And all the while, “pon pon pata pon.”
“But what’s so important about casualties?” you ask. Well, at first, nothing. Here again, though, everything’s simple at first; the game only teaches you things when you’re ready. Soon though, you gain the ability to grow patapons from a suggestively-shaped tree at your home base. With each mission, you’ll collect new parts to use in the genetic recombination process, while offing the patapons that no longer fit your needs. Before long, you’ll find yourself growing attached to your ultimate eyeball fighting force, especially once you start decking them out in cute little weapon sets. Needless to say, losing your team won’t merely cause emotional damage, as a well-bred army is far more powerful than a normal one.
At this point, you’re probably thinking that Patapon is prohibitively complex — like a high-level game of Magic: The Gathering or Dungeons and Dragons. But in reality, Patapon is more like a rhythmic version of chess — a game with simple concepts and intricate possibilities. In fact, you can ignore much of the army customization and be ok; the game even auto-optimizes your army’s equipment if you so desire. The other complexities fall into place like new pieces in Tetris; they just make sense.
These complexities, ironically enough, are the main reason Patapon is such a great non-gamer’s game. Sure, many other games fit the bill in more traditional ways, but Patapon is progressive. By melding the ingrained human concept of rhythm with full-blown RPG and strategy elements, Patapon forms an exquisite bridge between gaming’s two diametrically-opposed sides. It can lure non-gamers in with simple charms and then introduce them to the basics of hardcore gaming’s favorite genres. There’s one caveat, however: in order to really understand Patapon, you have to play it. It’s a shame, then, that the people who would most benefit from Patapon are the most likely to miss out on it. But like the patapon, we can prevail over this issue. We must band together and spread the good word. For if not gamers, then who?
*Next time on Vahn16’s Blog: Why Patapon is a great game for pirates
Passive Complacency
How many movies have you seen in the past month? Probably more than me, as, unless you count quickly glancing at the cover of Solaris, I haven’t seen a single one. So I got to thinking about my plight and realized something: movies, in my mind, are time-wasters. “Oh-ho-ho,” you retort, “aren’t videogames, sci-fi books, rock music, and breathing (my order of priority, not yours) also time-wasters?” Kinda. Recently, I’ve taken to believing that videogames have cheapened all passive media for me. Why blankly stare at something when you can blankly stare at it and press buttons? Or at least, that’s how I rationalized it.
A couple of days ago, however, I started back into Children of the Mind by Orson Scott Card, a book which I started over Christmas break, but that post-break schoolwork prevented me from finishing. Well, I’m completely enthralled, and my “active media = winnar” theory is looking for a new job. The book’s story is wonderfully intricate and my blind devotion to Ender and his compatriots probably hurts my objectivity just a tad.
Luckily, I managed to escape Children’s gravitational pull just long enough to pick up another forsaken tale, Lost Odyssey on the Xbox 360. After fighting the abominable snow raptor, the game’s cast was thrust into a beautifully orchestrated show of political intrigue as well as a fight against some robots. The point is, Lost Odyssey’s story managed to captivate me as well, but — by virtue of its being a steampunk-fantasy romp — in a different way.
My mind is a battlefield.
Hooray, I just proved that passive media and active media both have their places — of course, I also discovered fire when I looked in my gas-powered fireplace yesterday, so I’m a king among pioneers.
There’s one sticking point, though. The fact is, Lost Odyssey’s gripping plot is portrayed through dramatic camera angles, uncontrollable events (why did we allow two children unquestioned access to a monstrous train?), and other such cinematic techniques. Yep, it’s just like a movie. (I swear, this argument is becoming so circular that I can probably make it spherical with a little more effort.) So then, if this is the case, why do I refuse to watch movies? Is it because I like having illusory control over the cast in what is essentially an interactive film? Or maybe I’m such a misanthrope that I can’t stand the sight of real actors and need polygonal models instead. Maybe I’m afraid of losing my virginity in a dimly-lit movie theater. Who knows? But we can all be sure of one thing: It’s not because I’m too damn lazy to pry myself away from my chair and check out the latest box office smash. It’s because I’m a Facebook addict.
Sins of a Solar Egomaniac
My list of “Things to Do” has many entries; among other things, I’d like to complete a triathlon, run 50 miles, and then do both while not dreaming. But in the foreseeable future, I have one real goal: to play an RTS (real-time strategy) for a significant amount of time.
My ongoing quest to deprecate myself has revealed a startling inadequacy. The only three RTSes I’ve ever finished are Warcrafts I & II and Starcraft. The fact that I’ve never attended a Blizzcon is more than a little startling, but I digress.
Upon noticing my lack of RTS literacy, I began a journey of introspection. The journey lead me to the depths of my soul and back, so it took about five minutes. While down there, I made a connection between RTSes and RPGs; see, both genres are prohibitive — that is to say, they’re complex to the uninitiated. But that’s where the similarities end. Accordingly, I sit on the RPG side of the wall, and so far as I can tell, not even Ronald Reagan would be much help in tearing down the divide.
RPGs, with their number-crunching character creation and intricate battle systems, can be just as complex and diverse as RTSes. So why do I love one and loathe the other? In both genres, you must take time to learn the ins-and-outs of each game within those genres. For instance, superficially speaking, Rise of Nations shares little in common with Starcraft outside of resource management. Similarly, Lost Odyssey and Mass Effect share the same engine, but that’s where they draw the line. Yet, in both genres there exists a lexicon of gameplay techniques and ideas — learned instincts, if you will — that most every game shares, but puts its own spin on. It would seem then, that during my vital mental development phases, I was exposed to the RPG, while the RTS was shunned. Where language fell in all this, I don’t know; but I talk good, right?
On multiple occasions, I’ve attempted to dig into an RTS here or there. Each time, however, I scarcely make it out of the tutorial. It really is akin to learning another language, one spoken through mouse clicks and keyboard strokes. And like a lazy high school student, I just can’t pick it up. This time, however, will be different; this time, I’ll succeed.
So what is “this time”? Well, on the recommendation of a friend, I’m playing Sins of a Solar Empire. For those who are “in the know,” this probably seems like a bad introductory RTS. But as much as I may seem like a crazy person — sometimes even muttering irrelevant asides at random times — I have a reason.
Computer Gaming World (now Games For Windows) has always been one of my favorite magazines. Each month, they run a “column” called “Tom Versus Bruce,” wherein the eponymous Tom and Bruce clash in a PC game of their choosing and then chronicle their adventures. The column is uniformly excellent, but it reaches ZOMGAwesome levels only when RTSes are involved. I mean sure, just like most other games, RTSes have their own stories and backdrops, but when multiplayer is involved, the game’s main plot ceases to be the focal point. Instead, the story of two players locked in an ever evolving war blots out all other factors. This may not sound like much — all multiplayer games do it to an extent — but in RTSes, there are so many factors to consider. So, when my friend told me about Sins of a Solar Empire’s sometimes month-long skirmishes, I was enthralled. How’s this sound: You’re beaten back to your main planet, and all hope seems lost. An armada of enemy frigates is in mid-jump space (or slip-space) and your planet is the trampoline. But then, just failure looms imminent, an even larger armada of your own ships jumps in from way across the galaxy and saves the day. A victory that sweet is sure to give you amazing satisfaction. And diabetes.
Sins is also extremely pretty. If it were a girl, its milkshake would most assuredly bring all the boys to the yard.
It was with hope for that kind of valiant struggle that I booted-up Sins. Frankly, a single word can describe the game: daunting. Complex tech trees grow from every figurative orifice Sins posseses, and their bark is nearly impenetrable. Additionally, along with normal resource gathering, you have to tax the planets under your rule. And not only do structures produce units; units produce other units. My brain just winced. The game seems like a 4X turn-based strategy, but in real-time. This, of course, gives the game a unique pacing that allows for strategies suitably complex.
All things considered, Sins seems loaded with potential. Hopefully once I move beyond the first two tutorials (say that five times fast), it’ll prove me correct.
Videogames 73: Stacked
Have you ever felt completely overwhelmed? Totally crushed by some oppressive weight? The answer is probably “yes.” But has that weight ever been a literal stack of games leering at you from across your desk, scolding you because you really shouldn’t have purchased that copy of Patapon when you still needed to finish a JRPG, a lawyer-based adventure game for review, and a smattering of PS2 games you bought on the fly? If the answer is still “yes,” then you’re me. But if the above situation merely sounds familiar, then you’re probably a gamer not unlike myself — never finishing what he (or she) started before getting wrapped-up in yet another game.
It’s such an odd psychological quirk. I mean, I love Lost Odyssey in ways some might deem inappropriate, but the second I set down the controller, I feel compelled to trek up to Gamestop and blankly gaze into a veritable jungle of game cases. The more I perform this little ritual, the more likely I am to make an impulse purchase — thus adding to my Katamari-esque collection. Before long, I fear it’ll have its own gravitational pull. And this doesn’t even include my Pile ‘O’ Shame; the less said about that, the better.
In order to cleanse my guilt-ridden mind, let’s dig into those games which are quickly becoming victims of my bad habit.
Lost Odyssey: When I first popped this one into the ole’ Xbox360, my heart incurred a hairline fracture. See, I still haven’t finished Final Fantasy XII. I mean, Hironobu Sakaguchi is undoubtedly great, but Yasumi Matsuno. It’s akin to buying a Fallout Boy (yuck) CD and then pirating an album from your favorite up-and-coming group. That is to say, typical JRPGs will always be there for me, but Matsuno’s mature stories and experimental gameplay need gamers’ support. Otherwise, the genre will evolve more slowly than it already is, and well, have you taken a look at Dragon Quest lately? Now, I’ve already played a good portion of FFXII, so my support’s sitting comfortably on Matsuno’s side of the ring, but I can’t be content to go half-way in this case. But, uh, Lost Odyssey.
Lost Odyssey is excellent — no doubt. My previous post on it stated as much. Odds are, I’ll finish this one, so my conscience is eased. This is great therapy.
Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney: Spoiler alert: this is my next review title. I know, shocking. Now, this a review title, so of course I’ll finish it, but this is a nice place to ramble about aspects of the game irrelevant to my review.
As is typical of gaming nerds, I’m quite partial to the music that stems from our hobby. Gyakuten Meets Orchestra? Yes please. And thanks to that little collection of tracks, Apollo Justice’s smartly-written script is no longer the central reason for my enjoyment of the game. Each of Apollo’s great victories is punctuated by his low-fi, yet surprisingly epic theme song. I live for those moments. “Ding!” begins the midi-bell, and I’m in bliss. But soon, it fades away, and I’m back to slogging through evidence. I’m not trying to take anything away from Apollo’s story or gameplay — they’re great. But some of the music is positively spectacular.
Apollo and company are ready to “get down” and “boogie” at a moment’s notice.
One more thing: Apollo is a poster-boy for Naruto-syndrome. No, the game doesn’t become Dragonball Z with lawyers — a concept that I’ll surely trademark — but it does become mired in its own flashbacks. Sometimes, it goes so far as to re-air an event that happened a conversation-or-two ago, but in black and white! Sadly, no cheesy piano music accompanies these flashbacks.
Jade Empire: I enjoy many things — nearly as many as I dislike, in fact. Two things stand-out, however: videogames and martial arts — oh, and also Bioware RPGs. In theory, it’s the perfect game, and aside from a shallow battle system, it’s perfect in practice as well. So why can’t I finish the damn thing? Answer: the Imperial City. The Empire is so powerful, they transcend the game world in which the exist. Thus, upon arriving in the Imperial City, their witch-magic causes me to abandon my controller/keyboard and never look back. This is so plausible, I’m being forced to remind you how plausible it is.
Also, more psychology: For some reason, I can’t play more than one RPG at once, so no Jade Empires until I finish my Lost Odysseys.
Games yet to receive any serious attention: Ugh, time to dredge up all the bad feelings, huh? In descending order of guilt, from greatest to least: Professor Layton and the Curious Village, Devil May Cry 1, 2, and 3, Sins of a Solar Empire, Metal Gear Solid 3 (partially started, at least) , Fallout 1&2, and Patapon. This is bad enough, and really, I have no excuse for most of these. But hey, I have time, right? Maybe not. Now, this is very personal, and as such, it will be kept between me and the Internet: I’m getting the World of Warcraft itch again. (No, not like that; mind, gutter, please stop co-mingling.) Fortunately, WOW isn’t installed on my computer of choice. So long as it stays that way, I don’t see this being an issue. No problem, right?
As I mentioned earlier, these games are not in my Pile ‘O’ Shame — not yet, at least. That little red mark on my perfect gaming record deserves a post of its very own. A horrifying prospect to be sure.
So how many games are you working through? Is your “to play” stack obscuring your Pile ‘O’ Shame, or are they conflating into an entirely new entity? Or, stranger still, do you actually finish games one at a time?
News Bites: Take-Two and EA sitting in a conference room, T-A-L-K-I-N-G
For Electronic Arts, the second time looks to be a charm: their less-than-benevolent maneuvers in Ubisoft’s direction haven’t really panned-out, but Take-Two could very well be the next feather in EA’s cap. It’s only a matter of time until the two companies reach a compromise on price point and Michael Patcher’s prognostication comes true.
Of course, many people are crying out against EA’s Borg-like tendencies, but really, this won’t be so bad. Why? Because.
…
Ok, here’s why:
Money: Take-Two has been riding a roller-coaster as of late, and not the debatably good, wheeled-kind. Between the Manhunt 2 controversy, executive re-shufflings, and stocks that rode the aforementioned roller-coaster long past the point of barfing, Take-Two could use a little stability. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but EA seems to have a fair amount of the green stuff (money, not throw-up) backing their projects. If Take-Two hopped on board, they would too. Now on to the less obvious benefits.
Freedom: I know. This seems like a stretch to anyone who casually follows gaming news, but it’s practically fact these days. EA is no longer an artless, franchise-milking corporation. They’re still a corporation, but now they encourage creativity and individuality. Evidence? Well, for one thing, look at the Valve situation; EA publishes Valve titles at retail and misses out on lucrative online profits. And never once (to our knowledge) have they tried to consume Valve. Additionally, take a look at the veritable waterfall of intriguing games EA is producing: Facebreaker, Battlefield: Heroes, Army of Two, Burnout Paradise, and many more! Note that instead of iterating on tried-and-true franchises, EA is creating new ones while re-inventing the grizzled veterans. Lastly, for an example that much resembles the Take-Two situation, observe EA’s purchase of Bioware-Pandemic. EA owns them, but they’re still autonomous. Hell, Bioware is allegedly working on KOTOR Thr…er, a project with LucasArts. Similarly, EA’s GDC speech focused on why it’s a terrible idea to absorb free-thinkers into a rigidly structured skyscraper of a company. I mean, they’re actually admitting that they used to really screw-up. But now, like an unfaithful lover, they’re making amends.
Competition in the marketplace: Blizzavision? Actard? However you choose to mangle the company’s name, Activision Blizzard is the new old-EA (iterating franchises ad nauseam, being really big) and now new EA is the only force able to stop Activison Blizzard from firing their evil complacency beam on an unsuspecting industry. Ok, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but a single, uncontested company is never a good thing; if nothing else, Monopoly should’ve instilled you with such knowledge.
So, this post was originally going to discuss Playstation Home and my impressions of Lost Odyssey as well as the Take-Two buyout, but it looks like I’m out of time. Sleep is sweet, sweet nectar, and without it, well, I really don’t know where I was going with that analogy. So yeah, sleep.
Oh, one more thing: Story In Games week isn’t over. Look forward to its other two installments on Friday and Saturday. I’m really pushing it in terms of what could be considered a week, aren’t I?
Miscellaneous Debris
Far Cry was many things to many people: A shooter, a graphical powerhouse, an excellent demonstration of non-linear gameplay — but we must continue down life’s rough road without it. Yes, Far Cry has passed on. And where’d it go? Well, just watch.
Apparently Fatman from Metal Gear Solid 2 found new work. Good for him!
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How do you feel about the idea of a singular, unified console that eschews optical media in favor of downloadable content, incorporates perfect motion-detection-based gameplay, allows for easily accessible user-created content, and is mostly free of Skynet’s influence? Well, you might not be waiting much longer. Or maybe you will — according to Evan Wilson, anyway.
Since we officially entered the new current-gen, or new-gen, roughly three days ago, we are now allowed to feverishly anticipate a new next-gen, or next next-gen. Wilson, an analyst from Pacific Crest Securities, has predicted the advent of the next console cycle as occurring in 2010. Yep — two years from now.
If we place the current console cycle’s beginning at November of 2005, the day gamers giddily entered the world of Perfect Dark Zero, then that means the PS3-Wii-360 cycle will have just barely lasted five years before being approached by a new challenger.
Wilson believes Nintendo will be first out the gate — supply issues be damned — followed by Microsoft — supply issues be damned. Is he onto something here? Well, kinda. Nintendo has an impetus to launch first — the Wii is graphically underpowered when matched against its large and imposing competitors. And Microsoft launched first during the current console cycle, so why not follow their figurative jab with a cross five years later?
But after that, the argument sort of falls apart. The Wii is on top of the videogame market, wielding a jewel-encrusted Wiimote as a gleaming scepter, and it’s only gaining speed. Why? Innovation and price point. The Wii is proof positive that graphical prowess is secondary to new and interesting experiences; Nintendo knows this. What reason do they have to launch early when they’re already graphically inferior and, in part, winning because of that fact?
In the handheld arena, Wilson believes both the DS and the PSP will also see the future in 2010. Here, he’s more or less correct. Both handhelds will be hitting their “sell-by” dates right around that time, and maybe slightly sooner. But then, both portables are still speeding right along — occasionally lapping their monolithic cousins — and bringing in money by the truckload for their respective creators. So yeah, 2010 sounds about right.
Dear Diar…Gaming Journal: Entry Two.
2/12/08 One Piece: Unlimited Adventure
Well, it’s certainly long, anyway.
Oddly enough, this game is really winning me over. Quite frankly, I went into OP:UA expecting a typical underperforming anime game – generic cel-shaded graphics, shallow gameplay, and a story that’d be better suited to, well, a filler episode of a long-running anime series.
But that’s not what I got. OP:UA is essentially Zelda, but without dungeons and, as a result of that, it features far fewer puzzles. Combat is par for the course, although little flourishes – like the characters’ signature moves and the way Zoro confidently sheathes his blades after he vanquishes a foe — create a slight, but noticeable spark that fuels a spectacular blaze. What do I mean? Well, in OP:UA, the license definitely makes the game, but it doesn’t hold back the gameplay while doing it.
OP:UA exudes personality just like the anime on which it’s based. Seriously, instead of aping a filler episode, the game is a perfect example of why the series has so many fans. The overall plot tends to slip into generic territory on occasion, but the writing is so well done that your disappointments tend to dissolve away into gleeful laughter.
And oh is there laughter. Funimation crafted an excellent script and their voice actors’ performances are so natural that you’ll believe the dialogue was recorded by an authentic fictional pirate crew – not some voice actors trapped in a dark room at odd parts of the day. Actually, I’m not sure if the Japanese release of OP:UA had such a great script. Funimation tends to re-write anime scripts into something more suited for a delicate American palette. But unlike most every other studio, Funimation not only chops the script into bite-sized pieces, but they deftly reassemble it into a figurative omelet – a delicious mix of chopped-up yet essential Japanese story elements stirred together with American sensibilities and humor.
As enticing as I’m sure all this sounds, I fear you’ll have to wait until my Worthplaying review goes live in a week or so to find out more about the gameplay and other constituent elements. In penance, I’ll walk the plank. A plank. A wooden floor.
Dear Diar…Gaming Journal: Entry One.
2/11/08 Devil May Cry 4
I had a revelation during my post-breakfast DMC play session: Nero may not be near the badass that Dante is, but damn it if Nero doesn’t match my play style better. See, DMC4 is all about offense – the best defense is a good offense, and the best offense is apparently a Stretch Armstrong-style, spiky, glowing arm.
Enemies in DMC4 attack much like a swarm of bees – taken alone, few enemies can even touch Dante or Nero, let alone harm them. But together, a multitude of prickly, irritating stings is enough to splatter even the greatest Spardan warrior’s blood. Thus, it’s crucial to keep foes at a distance – an area in which Nero – ahem – excels. Puppet demons and lizard men swarming all around you? Simply burst free from the crowd, but don’t forget to bring company; the Devil Bringer whips-out and reels-in enemies as though they were – and in some cases, they are – fish. In fact, I suppose Nero’s gameplay sections are really a giant fishing metaphor. He guts them and everything!
Anyway, Dante – having at this point saved the world multiple times – is the one who deserves to be baking under a hot sun and casting-out the ole’ line, but he shows an unfortunate disinterest in doing so. As such, for me, playing as Dante involves using a three or four combos and occasionally switching weapons. Generally, I take my Dante on fine Rebellion silver with a dash of Gilgamesh, but that leads to an issue: Like a celebrity in a paparazzi convention, I just can’t keep my malefactors off me. In desperation, I mash the B button, but Dante merely twirls his blade, as though he were shrugging off my laughable attempts and wondering why I’d prefer his love-struck protégé over the Son of Sparda himself.
Dante is, however, the perfect proportions of cheese, cockiness, and hilarity rolled into a devilishly handsome package. What? I can have a man-crush, can’t I?
