REVIEW: Might and Magic: Clash of Heroes

This review is long overdue, but for a time I wasn’t really sure where I came down, but now I am. I’ll be brief.

I guess I should start by expressing my fondness for being able to try things before purchasing them. I don’t think that’s ever going to get old. However, demos can give a faulty perspective: producing a slither of gameplay that perfectly encapsulates the entire experience of a game would be a fantastic thing. But what if a demo could actually do that? Well, said demo would either represent the pinnacle of fine-tuning, or the game itself would turn out to be rather shallow. I hope you can see where I’m going with this. I will give a mild hint: Clash of Heroes is not a long and complex experience.

Now I feel like I’ve lurched into a foregone conclusion. Notice I didn’t say the game was bad, though. Because it isn’t: I would simply like to move the less shiny parts out of the way first. The main issue I have stems from a mild frustration with the formula of the single-player: you go through the campaign one protagonist and realm at a time, shifting through a heavy-handed (but fun!) fantasy story all the while. You begin as a level one (of ten) character, with new units, items and abilities delivered at an enticing rate as you make your way through the stylised scenery to a conclusive, final encounter. Then you do that again, four times. Credits. Okay, that’s not fair: there’s a multiplayer mode, too.

Luckily the major highlights of this game jut forth into some extremely acute points. For one, it is a good price: a kind of ‘I can’t believe this is how much two tickets to the cinema costs’ kind of price. Also, the desire I felt for things to get kicked up a gear was the result of an already-solid system reiterating itself. So what is that system? The demo can show it better than I can explain, as it is practically a microcosm of the entire game. But that is an unsatisfying answer so I will quickly throw-up an explanation. It’s a turn-based strategy game that can easily trick a player into thinking it is a puzzle game. Maybe it is both. Your block of units faces the enemy’s; the player can either move a unit from the back of a given line to another, or use their move in deleting one of their own units. When three units of the same colour (there are three colours) and the same type (three basic types, too) are lined up they either form a permanent wall or an attack column. This is the simple base from which a promising sum of customisation is built, with obligatory RPG-elements thrown in for good measure.

I love that the story doesn’t take itself too seriously. Frankly, it was an enormous relief. Too many titles get sucked into a land where nothing is more important than whatever bland, generic arc has taken the fore. This doesn’t mean that titles can’t or shouldn’t be wholly serious. Fuck no. This title couldn’t (and shouldn’t) be wholly serious. The moments where the game indulges in its gratuitous personality were some of the best for me: the bright and soft art-style fits this path, far more than trying to make me care about some impending demonic invasion. The music, too, felt best at its most mirthful and playful moments. That said there is a consistent vibrancy on this front: I’m pretty easy on music with as much heart as this, though there could be (ahem) more of it. The demo manages—seemingly, anyway—to make most of this manifest.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t find the over-all experience a little simplistic. The items can change the flow of the game substantially, but by the third ‘starting area’ I just craved something sharper. I wanted some new hook to show up and kick my ass to the curb if I didn’t have the decency to comprehend it; I wanted the game itself to expand as far as it could, or else come to an end with deft concision. That was pretty greedy of me. I have no right to more: the sum of content provided for the price was far from inadequate. In this case I would appreciate more liberal use of scissors, by which I mean editing down. I’m sure it is common to feel an obligation to finish what’s been started. In the case of games this can take some time; even as you become painfully aware that the developers have ran out of tricks you push on, hoping there is something new around the next corner. There’s another feeling that accompanies this, though, and it happens as the credits roll. A little-spoken-of sentiment that I like to think finds form in a long, drawn-out sigh: the paradoxical mixture of relief, satisfaction and disappointment.

Ahh, Christmas. Now that that's over with, Sonic Generations and Donkey Kong Country Returns. Yes.

Comparative analysis was always fun for me (I was a weird kid). I could never understand why it got such little use; so robust! In any case, I figured wheeling out the ‘side-by-side’ approach could be amusing (with the magical powers of editing I can say, in retrospect, that I may have been slightly over-optimistic). This kind of style has the advantage of being light on requisite experience: a vague familiarity with just a portion of a segment of a morsel of the series—either series—is all that’s needed for some concise (maybe slightly constricted?) points to emerge. And there was a smooth, even crisp, overlap of genre here. First, though: what are the threads that tie these two games together more than anything else? What is the unifying synergy? After a few minutes of thought, it struck me: rolling. Then, several minutes later, it struck me again: rolling is a stupid and arbitrary choice. So, instead, 2D platform games are happening.

I’ll go through some similarities first; differentiation is always better served in context. Despite variances in the end-products, the foundations bear more than a little resemblance. For one, Sonic Generations and Donkey Kong Country Returns—as far as throwbacks go—are executed with noticeable care. So you can expect an experience that is consistent with whatever demos or test-plays are available to you. It’s the kind of focus more often reserved for projects that push things forwards (or, at least, are trying to.) Make no mistake: these games do not do that. They are, for the most part, the antithesis of innovative. While this in no way means they’re bad, it is highly evident in the design choices that ‘How do we mix things up?’ was not at the top of either team’s agenda.

The fundamentals are simple: a combination of original content (updated visuals, all-new map designs, gameplay flairs) and highly refined mechanics. It’s the kind of gameplay that developers have had centuries to experiment with; over time the fundamental formula can, apparently, be twisted into a smoother and more idealised state. I guess it’s kind of obvious that most of what comes from this is dependent, not just on the taste of the player, but also the goals of the designers and what they have to work with. For me, both experiences delivered sustained entertainment. Sadly, the variance of user mileage is a thing that exists, so I’ll continue.

As I pushed through the campaigns here I grew more and more confident that they were each built on this consistent basis: a kind of ‘homage and sustenance’ thing. It’s a strong design goal. Drawing attention to sturdy conventions strikes as a worthy objective that money can get behind. That said, this should raise some warning flags if you hate things that aren’t new. I don’t know who this theoretical ultra-hipster is, but I think they would certainly hate the idea of these games. I would challenge even this hypothetical creature not to enjoy the products, though. This is where I need to differentiate a little.

With a simple framing device Sonic Team transforms the idea of a tribute into an actual functioning story. Our blue protagonist, the modern 3D Sonic, is thrown into time-travelling escapades with his non-talkative 2D self from the past. It’s the perfect excuse to split the gameplay into a clear dichotomy: the first act of every stage is played in the classic style, with the old guard of spin-dashing and platform negotiation taking the fore; the second act is a more mercurial beast. Ostensibly these levels are the 3D answer to the first stages, but to leave it there wouldn’t give the full picture. The fact is, there are depthless sections in every ‘Modern’ stage. If I had to pick one way this game stands out more than previous try-hard Sonic titles over the last decade, it would have to be this dimensional refrain.

Our 'Classic' protagonist, passing through some familiar territory. The Havok physics engine makes some of the older gameplay elements slightly off. Other than that, it handles very much like the Genesis/Megadrive titles.

Outwardly, Donkey Kong looks like the more original experience: it has an all-new set of banana-thieving antagonists in what I can only describe as Sentient Tiki Mask Guys; there is a vista of unique stages (which come with original enemy designs) and, promisingly, a revamped co-op mode. These facets aren’t out-and-out deceptive: they are new things. Still, I prefer to err on the side scepticism and say that the skeleton of this game resembles every other DKC game. In fact, there are several qualities which could easily provoke the idea that this is the least original title in the series yet. Some of the sections—the jungle area, the industrial area, the cave area—are more than a little familiar in concept; half of the music is lifted from the first entry in the series, imbued with smoother tones and mild remixes. The Donkey & Diddy Kong setup can’t really be faulted, but it seems relevant to this emulation theme that this was only used once before in the 'Country' titles, to begin the series. I know this may sound counter-intuitive, but the pronounced lack of risk-taking is kind of impressive. Maybe it’s the confidence that borders on swagger.

I take only a slither of joy in the irony that Generations—with a story that is singularly based on reliving the SEGA mascot’s past—looks to have a much fresher approach to progression. While DKC has a lot more levels than Generations, the tried and tested linear island-hub is not nearly as enticing as Sonic’s simple 2D time-scape. The freedom to choose between progressing through the conventional levels and tackling the many challenges that surround them was neat. And I mean that in the sense of economy and tidiness: no elements of the experience are ever more than a short sprint and a couple of jumps away.

Here's 'Modern' Sonic in the same place. As you can see his mere presence is, ahem, explosive.

Like most modern games, the creeping RPG influence makes itself no stranger here. Actually, all Donkey Kong has to answer for is the gathering of coins with which to procure throw-away items. While this system is open to ruthless and/or shameless abuse, it is not invasive. And its ease-of-access ends up making for a useful counter-balance to that most arcane of conventions: a limited number of lives. In Generations the need for a number which increases over time is sated by the passive acquisition of points as content is cleared. These points can subsequently be spent on extra lives and optional techniques that make the two Sonics even more savage. If you get a good rank, or simply complete a challenge, you’re gifted concept art and, our old friend, re-hashed music. It’s like a honey-comb of incentives: there are five ‘Red Star Rings’ hidden in every stage, too, that affect the aforementioned music, pictures and points; certain challenges will unlock new techniques to be bought from the shop, prompting you to gather yet more points. This kind of stuff almost pulled me away from the simple fun of rushing through some well-rendered scenery, but it’s all relatively auxiliary until the temptation of skill customisation takes over. Even though you’re not compelled to, I couldn't help but go through every challenge in order to gather more things. Extra music tracks, in particular, are irresistible to me. Choice aside, I think it is safe to say that some of the concepts to these challenges are half-assed. Perhaps even quarter-assed. 

I mentioned earlier that there is a lot more levels to Kong than Sonic. Part of the reason for this could stem from a greater effort on Sonic Team’s part to cut redundant content and keep the game concise, though I don’t entirely buy this. I’m sure design philosophy is a larger factor: as Sonic, speed is a thing you are conditioned to want. A density of visually stunning set-pieces flies past; twists into the fore and background are not uncommon, along with divergent routes and hidden paths. To contrast, the many stages of Country—while constructed smoothly and superbly—do not have any qualms with recycling their tricks, or following a linear path.

The speed element is seductive, to be sure, but it is also the main constriction of Generations. In short, inertia is a bitch. If you’re unfamiliar with a level, a suicidal jump is sometimes too easy. And I don’t think it was an unintended consequence of the fully-three dimensional areas that the speed is difficult to control; when it works (which is most of the time) the fluidity and power feels great. Sometimes it doesn’t work, though. While I’m talking about the new-age Sonic I should mention that camera failure is at an all-time low. It’s still a thing that happens, but in manageable doses.

The real issue with the new-found focus on the speed is that it limits the scope of gameplay: it sets a tone of necessary hurriedness. There is almost an audible clunk upon transitioning from blistering speed to careful platform-hopping. It's not that Generations can’t handle jumping sections, just seldom to a sophisticated or sustained degree. Again: inertia is a bitch. Donkey Kong Returns ends up feeling much more stable in this regard: the tenets of careful timing and patience root this game in place. The player is given the ability to move and change direction with rapidity and precision, and in this mode, much possibility is created.

I feel like this screen-shot is misleading. It gives absolutely no warning that giant waves will periodically crash into the foreground, and that said waves are more lethal than fire.

So, re-hashed music is another recurring element that I feel deserves some attention. Again, that pesky issue of unoriginality. In the case of Sonic Generations, its explicit emulation of past stages earns it much leverage with regards to re-mixing: it’s something that, given the story, anyone should reasonably expect. What follows is two distinct remixes per area: like the stages themselves, a ‘Classic’ and a ‘Modern’ version. It’s hard to pin down a predictable relationship between the two, though the strongest distinction seems to lie with the tones: the first act’s music makes heavy use of synth, while the second act reaches for more real sounds. ‘Rooftop Run’ makes for a good example of this. There’s a respectable variance in the styles Generations makes use of, and the over-all vibrancy is refreshing.

I found it harder to reconcile myself with Kong’s musical direction. Like the ‘Donkey & Diddy’ thing; none of the other Country games borrowed music from their predecessors. This is a reboot, though, so, we should be charitable? I don’t know. It is an overall strong soundtrack. More interestingly, it is very consistent in tone. The variance in Sonic’s music fits each disparate stage in turn, which itself serves the time-travelling theme; the over-all aesthetic is necessarily unfocussed. The tones of DKCR all fit an acoustic theme, and the layers of percussion, woodwind and synth here further feed into Retro’s model of consistence. Hell, the Evil Tiki Mask Guys are even shaped like instruments. It doesn’t stand out as much as the music of Generations, but it serves the synergy of the whole, which is probably a harder challenge for a composer.

All that’s left to comment on is the visuals, and, well, that's tall order. There are very few snags or ambiguities here that I can mercilessly attack with red-pen. Important visual cues are intuitive yet non-invasive, while vibrancy and variety fill the rest of the screen.  The size of your avatars and their position in front of the camera are traits one could predict, and with great accuracy. For the sake of these particular games, the developers couldn't move away from their roots: everything about the construction and appeal demands adherence to the formula. It's hardly surprising, then, that visual innovation is marginalised—like other aspects of these games—in favour of a mirror-shine. That sprinkling of new is nice, though. The example that sticks in my mind the strongest would lie with Kong. A few of his stages utilise a smooth, almost monochromatic, colouring style that ended up playing out far more handsomely than I had expected. Nothing so simple or suave for Sonic’s outing, but the clarity of viable paths and the variety of fantastic locations are sweet enough.

Simple, vibrant, mechanically synergistic and surprisingly relaxing, too. It could be the accompanying jazz remix of 'Jungle Hijinx'.

So, there we have it. The puzzles may not wrack the mind so much, but that doesn't matter: the main attraction—to both of these games—are the delicious mechanics. Also, I am a sucker for these kinds of reboot-spectacles. As much as I fear that this imbues me with overt bias, I know that this also corresponds with a pretty wide experience of analogous titles. The likes of Yoshi's Island DS and New Super Mario Bros. are the first that come to mind: Sonic Generations and DKCR laugh at them. As I said earlier: the kind of care taken on these two is not the norm.

Oh, one more caveat: DK was not marketed well. At all. These games match each other's quality (with their own unique grotesqueries), but Nintendo did themselves no favours with only a limited release. Generations was in  the Steam sale a couple of days ago, a service I would recommend to anyone who enjoys games on their PC. It was pushed to about seven pounds (so eleven to twelve dollars, I suppose.) On the other hand DKCR, a game that came out a year ago, is difficult to find and, when you do, somehow much more expensive than Generations. Words lose me at this. It's a sad thing, but they are still there. It is my hope that lessons have already been learned, and all we are left with now is good product.

A Dubious Marketing Technique

I don’t know if this phenomenon applies to other countries, but retail pricing of games is a strange thing in the UK. Or, at least, it has been for the last couple of years. Amid a tough economy Nintendo pushed Donkey Kong Country Returns upon us, and it hit the markets at £45 in November of last year. I found, over a good few months, that this was the case in every game shop I visited: I decided to ask an employee why. Apparently it was much more popular than expected, and few copies were distributed. Flash forward to a year later and new copies are still extremely rare in public, with pre-owned boxes marked around £40. Online sellers seem to be maintaining a high price, too, with a £35 tag on Amazon.

The reason this whole situation re-kindled in my imagination (other than the fact that I was able to borrow DKCR from a friend a couple of weeks ago) is that Nintendo recently registered a loss in excess of £500m. I’m not going to draw a line from the Kong title to Nintendo’s apparent failure (not with the piece of fail that is the one-trick-3DS in the picture), but there is something deeply unsettling about this: such an obviously well-polished title being pushed so gently into the market. Competing games at the time (with similarly high praise from critics) were experiencing cuts at a shocking rate: Assassin’s Creed 2 and then, about a year later, Bioshock 2, dropped £10 from their respective tags within a fortnight. They can now each be bought new for less than £10. I think the thing to take away from this is that Nintendo has maintained a very… interesting business model, at least when viewed against their competitors’ approaches. They produce quality games, and then try to not sell them.

That quality can be assured, though. At least in the case of DKCR. The term ‘solid platformer’ isn’t solid enough to convey this thing’s solidity. It’s dense, even: the kind of re-play value that the older Country games could only dream of. It’s like it was finished, and then Retro decided to finish it again. And perhaps a third time. But that would be it. I do need to level one complaint, though, and considering the cavalcade of issues that can crop up when a platformer is just off, think of the lack of further grievances as proof of a robust product. That said this is a very fundamental issue. I’m not talking about how there are no longer those certain bonus stages where you collect swathes of bananas as a rhino, ostrich or swordfish (though I’m sure this is a disappointing fact for some.) The control scheme leaves a purposeful vacuum. There is no support for the classic pad; no way to re-map controls; and flat-out shoe-horned waggle-tech.

Okay, so that sounds bad. I can’t imagine that Retro made this decision by themselves, because it’s pretty stupid. But which is the dumber thing to perceive: when one of the best titles on a machine makes absolutely no use of that machine’s specific abilities, or if said title ignores a superior control-scheme to facilitate said abilities? In my head it’s a no-brainer. I’m biased by the fact that I had the latter option include the words ‘ignores’ and ‘superior’ in close proximity, though. What I don’t understand is how Nintendo thought this design choice was beneficial: how could limiting player control options possibly result in more sold units? Or is it about obfuscating the fact that this, some of the best gaming the Wii has to offer, could be done better on the competitors’ machines? Like I said before, though: this game is strong. I let a lot of these outward flaws push me away from getting it, but some very poor marketing decisions shouldn’t keep us from games that are awesome.