My latest review in Indie Game Mag. (Click for a larger version)
Slide Colors, by Simpson’s Paradox
Update Jan. ’10: This review was quoted in TayKrOn’s press release about the launch of Slide Colors for the Xbox. “This is a solid breaktime puzzle game, and the different puzzle styles help hold players interest.”
Stick looked up from the fridge, disappointed. “Oh, are we all out of pears?”
“Um. Yeah.” I said, “Well, there was only one left… were you saving it?”
“Yes.”
“Forgive me
It was delicious
so sweet
and so cold.”
“Better vocab through poetry class still going well, then?”
The other day I was googling for “I’m stuck on an island with a total moron,” er, I mean, reading a bit about Lost in Blue 2, and I stumbled upon this Guide 2 Games review of Jack and Amy’s adventures.
Sexual Content
At one point, the two teens discover a hot spring, and there’s the option to have them bathe together. Amy responds to this by telling you she’s a little shy. However, both are shown with their clothes still on even in the water. Still, at first the implication is there that this was not the case, especially if you choose one of them to go in alone. The other one will look away.Also worth noting is that Amy and Jack live together while on the island. Now, both are shown sleeping in separate beds, but it’s still worth noting in this day and age.
My first reaction was giggles, because the hot springs cutscene takes about 15 seconds, compared to the HOURS AND HOURS OF MY LIFE I’ve spent repetitively spear-fishing, picking fruit, cooking food, walking Jack to the stream to drink, and trying to get Jack to eat the lunchboxes in his bag instead of STARVING TO DEATH.
Where was I going with this? Oh, right, Lost in Blue 2 is so open-ended that you need to have a certain relationship level been Jack and Amy, go visit the hot springs, and pick a certain dialogue option, and then the kids relax in the hot spring together, fully clothed, with space between them. (But the famed Hot Coffee mod in Grand Theft Auto was much harder to access, and I don’t think being less-than-obvious makes content unimportant.) Also the kids sleep on separate piles of leaves when they take shelter in the same cave after a shipwreck, it’s hardly steamy cohabitating romance.
This type of rating review seems to have a checklist of what the writer or publication thinks may cause offense, so the review becomes a boob, booze and blood alert. One of the first computer games I played was the original Monkey Island, a game that would earn a Teen rating — and some of the ire that Nancy Drew Dosser: Lights, Camera, Curses received — for existing in a universe that also involves alcohol. The problem with the checklist type of review is that it doesn’t address how that element is incorporated into the game. A pirate drinking grog is different from, say, a struggling, recovering alcoholic as an NPC. Review ratings often cite Princess Maker — an awesome game — for showing your princess’ paper-doll panties as she changes her dress, and more rarely mention the assumptions in the game’s goal of helping your princess to be pretty, cook, look after children and marry rich. There’s no blood when Grandpa Sim dies, but seeing his grieving family is much more emotionally affecting than a huge, bloody bodycount in a shooter. I could go on and on with examples of disservices the hotbutton checklist does to games and to potential players.
But we read reviews because we really want to know what’s in the game. It’s important let players and game shoppers know what they’re getting into, whether it’s a parent choosing a game for a child, or just a player of any age looking for a suitable, enjoyable game. I don’t need a rating to protect me from so-called objectionable themes, but I don’t really enjoy running through corridors splattering guts. I recently focus-tested the new Shutter Island game, but I spent most of the session asking the producer to please please warn me if there were going to be any body parts or dead people or icky things. The lines between an adventure game, a RPG with combat, a RPG with bloody combat, and a total gorefest can be fluid, and I’d like to know what I’m going to play.
I wonder if there’s any way to talk about game content without condemning games with certain elements or slapping on an age rating. Can reviewers talk about what a game contains, without jumping to decide who should play it? Can we let potential players know what they’ll find in the game without putting our own biases into a rating review? Or is what’s acceptable on the screen too closely linked with what we find acceptable in real life?
Random guy outside library: Are you an angel for Halloween?
Meg: What?
Guy: Is this your angel costume, baby?
Meg: No, I… Oh! Wait! You’re hitting on me! Thus proving that the library really is the place to meet boys!
A few weeks ago, I was trying to pin down what I don’t like about Cary. I know some of it is feeling like Cary is an extended blank verso between the close of our Beijing adventure and the beginning of the next chapter. I’ve been trying to put into words exactly what it is I’m not getting from perfectly nice complexes of shops with manicured grass in the lane dividers, or from perfectly nice houses on branching cul-de-cacs.
What I meant to say was, I wanted this.
I’m playing and reviewing THQ’s My Boyfriend DS game right now, which was funny before I even opened the game. Stick’s asked me if I like My Boyfriend, if I’m glad I got My Boyfriend, if I’m going to write about how great My Boyfriend is, and so forth. (He gets like this sometimes.) It’s been nonstop since I got the game.
“Wow, this is an awful cover design.” I said.
“Are you saying My Boyfriend is ugly?” Stick asked. “Don’t be shallow, Meg, you should only care about what’s inside.”
I try to ignore him, but he keeps going.
“Did you rent this?” he asks.
“You know I didn’t.”
“Good, I didn’t want to hear that you checked out My Boyfriend.”
Optimist Club Originally uploaded by Simpson’s Paradox
This proves my theory that the people I hear talking about how great it is to live in the south and avoid winter, or how convenient everything is to the beltway are all secretly in league with each other.
So, I’ve been working on some other projects, and now I’m going to recycle snips of those articles into a blog post, I mean, share what I’ve been working on!
First, I recently reviewed the new Nintendo DS game Women’s Murder Club: Games of Passion on ThumbGods:
WMC follows the usual pattern of story cutscenes, hidden objects and minigames. The hidden objects casual adventure game is a pretty crowded genre, so it’s hard for a new game to really stand out. Probably the most unique characteristic was the James Patterson characters. Players solve crimes and meet with the WMC ladies as Patterson’s detective Lindsay Boxer, and supporting characters with solid personalities made this more that just a reskinned HO game.
The story progresses via cutscenes and dialogue options. Players have some choices for what to say, but it was more of a quiz on recent plot events. Believable banter makes the cutscenes worth reading, and the linear storyline makes it feel like reading a novel, not being hemmed
Random side note: The mysterious Chinese markings found on the victim actually do say bu zhong, Not Loyal. My Chinese literacy is just good enough to be completely thrilled with the developers for using real words when dramatic red scribbles would have acceptable. (It always cracks me up when I see upside-down characters or random other words.) Good work, THQ.
Via Thumb Gods » Game Review: Women’s Murder Club
I know I’m supposed to be all blase about it, but that’s a photo of my review copy of WMC. It’s a hard copy with a press letter and everything. I’m going to keep it it on the shelf next to my other review copy, just as soon as I finish doing my I’m-a-real-journalist happy dance.
I also reviewed the Screaming Narwhal:
Telltale’s new Monkey Island is not to be confused with the LucasArts updated re-release. No, the Screaming Narwhal is an all-new tale in the saga of Guybrush Threepwood, mighty pirate. Elaine and LeChuck (and at least one other familiar character!) are back as well, revamped from their grainy 2d incarnations, but following the spirit of the originals.
Goofy dialogue, creative uses for found items and pirate-y silliness are the hallmarks of the Monkey Island games, and the Screaming Narwhal has them all. Guybrush uses his razor-sharp wits to deal with the wacky denizens of Flotsam Island, whether that’s a clever ruse of selling fine leather jacket, an amazing use of misdirection (Look! It’s Louis XIV!) or coming up with a believable excuse on the spot. The dialogue is not a memory test of in-game facts, but a chance for zany interactions.
Via Thumb Gods » Tales of Monkey Island: Launch of the Screaming Narwhal
And over on TechCoquette, I have a new piece about beginning a relationship on Facebook:
The awkward conversation in which you ask the one you’re seeing if the two of you are in a relationship isn’t new, but Facebook adds a new dimension. Are we in a relationship … on our Facebook profiles?
If you’re taking your new relationship Facebook-public, congrats! That little in a relationship with link is our generation’s class ring or football jacket, a public announcement that what you’ve got going on is more than just a couple of dates. It says you’re exclusive, and it also means no more of those awkward “my, um, friend” introductions.
Via Being “In a Relationship” on Facebook | TechCoquette
And I have another article on TechCoquette about ending a relationship and defriending the ex on Facebook.
If you actually meant that line about still being friends, Facebook defriending may help you create the space you need to become comfortable on your new footing. You may refriend him the future, when time has passed and you’re both ready to reconnect; but until then, you don’t have to be reminded of him whenever you see his status updates. Also, you won’t have to read sickly-sweet wall chatter between him and his new girl, and you won’t be reminded when he goes back to your favorite brunch spot. Even after a mutual decision to split, reading a feed of your ex’s daily life and thoughts can be unpleasant.
Via Let’s Not Be Friends: Facebook Ex Etiquette | TechCoquette
This last one is significant because it’s one of the rare times I’ve titled one of my own articles and been really happy with the title. Let’s Not Be Friends. Clever, huh? And much better than my usual lame titles like What I’ve Been Working On.
I always leave happy and mellow, so I guess it’s a step up from my previous workout routine, but somehow yoga isn’t instantly making me thin and fit. Don’t know why. I think I’ll have a cupcake and try to figure that out.
I told Hal Jordan that maybe this isn’t the best way to maintain a secret identity, but he didn’t listen to me.
