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.

Out With The Old, In With The Old. Golden Sun: Dark Dawn Review

Review: Golden Sun: Dark Dawn

It takes a series like Golden Sun to show a player where their favourite assets lie in RPGs. Not since Final Fantasy: Tactics have I felt normality to be displaced as rapidly as it is here. I should clarify: what makes these titles so thought-provoking for the genre isn’t any kind of ruthless casting to the side of conventions. No, these series embrace their roots with zeal, but minimise certain elements in favour of others. Tactics provided a level of strategy combat tools which can only be surmised as comprehensive. From racial deviations of combat ability, to environmental tinkering; the series was a succession of battlefields waiting to happen. But Golden Sun marks the antithesis to this approach: its simple turn-based fighting is tucked neatly to the side, as puzzles, narrative and aesthetical variety are thrown into focus.

Most RPGs paint the combat as the back-bone to the gameplay. We’ve all experienced it in some form or another, that point at which our customisation pays off with lethal precision. With such an enormous accumulation of conventions over the years, very specific predictions start to seem reasonable. New dungeons are expected to pose a threat. They are supposed to hold weapons and armour somehow superior to any area you’ve previously visited. They are inexplicable bastions of labyrinthine tunnels, unknown enemies and deadly confrontations. This is where Golden Sun: The Dark Dawn stands out the most: it is almost completely bereft of this danger. I found myself wandering ominous corridors, expecting to stumble across some Real Enemies at any second. Notice the capitalisation: this may be presumed to denote their stark paucity. No matter how malicious-looking the dungeon you’re never far from the gentle prods of the suicidal locals.

If the combat-vacuum this suggests worries you, perhaps the content which fills this gap can sate your appetite. Namely dialogue and puzzles. Your team of young magicians (or ‘adepts’ in this world) use their spells (Psynergy) to progress through tricky terrain and solve mechanical constructs. Is there usually a boss battle at the end of the dungeon? Would you settle for a long conversation followed by another fightless puzzle-section instead? There is one mainstay of combat here, though: the world map. It is, in comparison to other environments in the game, a savage place, with extremely frequent random encounters. It makes for an unpleasant contrast to Dark Dawn’s puzzle-hole, safety-first dungeons.

Maybe Golden Sun just doesn’t suit my tastes anymore. I’ve grown to love the combat of modern titles, and while a good story will usually take priority over a game’s mechanics, I know which component is most likely to keep me coming back. That said, I would question the elements this title chooses to emphasise anyway: the puzzles are practically the same as the first two Golden Sun titles, whose story I also felt was harnessed to a much greater effect. I was invested at the time for a number of reasons: the lack of alternative RPG titles on the GBA, a hunger for a title with a rich plot, and the general idea that dialogue was simply a good thing for games to have. Over-abundance wasn’t a consideration. At the same time, though, I feel that the musical quality has remained pretty consistent in strength. That is, above average, but nothing really ear-catching.
With Dark Dawn you find yourself in control of the sons/daughter of the original protagonists, as they set off on a thinly contrived adventure. I can roll with a lot of story choices, but this approach smacks of laziness. If nothing else it’s extremely difficult to invest in characters that are carbon-copies of their parents. It’s a shame Camelot chose such a weak basis to move into a story that clearly had a lot of thought put into it. Characterisation and shifting geographies develop to fine points as the game progresses, and it seems worth mentioning a certain proficiency with narrative hooks and convention here. The best example I can give is the reason you set off on your adventure to begin with. Though both irritatingly convenient and inexplicable all at once, the goal feels like a neat throwback to older RPGs. Your group is searching for a giant bird called a Mountain Roc with the intention of getting one of its feathers. Nice and simple, although the reams of dialogue which spurn this on would suggest otherwise.

Even with all of this said, though, I feel like I’ve undersold the game. The length here is considerable, and the narrative seldom falls into lulls. If you can see yourself enjoying an RPG where NPCs divulge their life-story at the drop of a hat, then you’re in luck. Maybe this game works best for newcomers. Every element is so rehashed that I find myself hard-pressed to consume Camelot’s leftovers, yet I know there are strengths here. I’ve bashed the puzzles, but they will fit many players’ palettes and are satisfyingly conceived for the most part. While many players prefer puzzles whose obscure, mind-wrenching answer bestows an almost divine sense of providence upon completion, I am more of the inclination to enjoy puzzles that don’t take the piss. And while this title would definitely suit the latter category, it does so at the expense of a challenging experience.

Portal 2’s Reviews, and a Portal 2 Review

When a team of developers continuously transmutes their code into gold, people start expecting more. Or such is the argument reviewers put forward to justify the obligatory nit-picking that follows. Actually, the critical reception of this game has been pretty good; it’s praised like it should be. Although there’s only so many ways people can phrase ‘It’s funny, well-paced and the puzzles are ever so wonderful.’ More worrying are the reviewers who feel the need to point this out right from the get-go. Seriously, it’s Portal 2: quit insulting your readers’ intelligence. Aren’t those numbers-out-of-whatever supposed to mean something? There are certain pieces of information that any reader with half a brain can deduce from the information available: if your review is on the internet, and you have a giant number right at the top of it, do you really think the reader would be interested to learn that Valve has expanded on its use of objects which interact with portals? Do the Fast5 reviews point out that bright cars are driven amidst exploding scenery? Hang on, I’ll check.

It’s about half and half. And the reviews which indulge in the obvious car prominence tend to carry some vague inquiry as to whether the dumb simplicity sells it or not, but I digress.

In all honesty, I can’t be too harsh on the critics. Not when it’s the user reviews that have funniest content: cue hype-based angst. Portal 2 is significantly better than your average videogame, but because of Valve’s sterling reputation people expect—Christ knows what they expect! Get a load of user Stabby’s (Metacritic) ire: “If this is the game of the year, then it definitely is a bad year for games. I could see how this game could be challenging and funny to 10 year olds, but for adult gamers its[sic] just too easy and childish in its execution, don't believe the hype.” I love that they command anyone who reads not to ‘believe’, when perhaps they should have used the word ‘invent’. They clearly had some imaginative model cooked up for what this game should be and that can be a pretty dangerous mentality to adopt, especially around sequels. This guy abandoned any logical basis for reviewing the game, all because it didn’t fit their fantasy. Someone should have reminded them that the original Portal’s single-player wasn’t hugely challenging, either: it’s still fun.

The esteemed ‘Stabby’ raises another interesting point, though: game of the year. The year isn’t actually half way through yet, but I’ll let that go. This is like someone moaning about who the Oscar for best film went to, only even more dumb since there’s no real consensus-body for aggregating industry opinion. But if there was a de facto Gaming Oscar, it would be just that: opinion. Sure, it’s nice to back a winner and, by corollary, annoying to see something that disappointed you celebrated by everyone else. But a horde of professional approval is seldom misplaced.

This guy doesn’t even know that Portal 2 is going to be game of the year for any publication, but the idea infuriates him! So much so that he was compelled to place a sneering ‘four’ atop his review. It’s pre-emptive hate, in a sense: the belief that a title is so over-rated that its reputation must be just as over-tarnished if the truth is to carry forward. It happened to Final Fantasy VII, too: a huge fan-base, followed by a second wave of people who were told to expect some kind of playable Rembrandt painting. Hardly surprising that people walk away angry.

My favourite point in the reviews of Portal 2, though, is how much bigger the single-player is this time around. It’s a fact: the solo mode is about three times as large as the original. But come on: this is a self-contained game. I think people would be a little pissed off if Portal 2 was the same length. When The Orange Box was on the horizon Portal was just that small game that came with the second Half-Life 2 episode and Team Fortress 2. It’s not a legitimate criticism to point to the lengthier campaign and bemoan some loss of concision; nor is it a particularly praise-worthy comparison to draw with its predecessor; this game had to be bigger. But it is interesting to consider how the developers tackled the issue.

Firstly, Valve made the decision this time around that the single-player is a story before a puzzle game. It captures both elements, but the sections with test-chambers are always leading up to something. The balance is undeniably impressive, but it’s an important (and unavoidable) distinction to make. There are about three or four separate test-chamber areas and, though it feels like each section could have progressed into harder and harder puzzles, the tendency, instead, is to stop short of jarring the player’s progress through the story. So, invariably, Valve had to sacrifice potential puzzles for the sake of the pacing here. The result? Well, there’s a clear aversion to punishing players over and over. But some people like to slave over obscure solutions; it’s practically a tenet of older single-player games. But it might be something best left for dedicated experiences whose aim is not to tell any kind of conventional story.

Once the clarity of the narrative took hold the part of me that wanted harder puzzles was supplanted by a dream of chronological consistence: alongside the sharpest of gameplay mechanics, as here, it turns into the pinnacle of conventional story-telling in games. Nothing is more jarring to this illusion than getting snagged on a hard section, and being subsequently forced to re-live a moment. So how do you go about solving the necessity and complicating nature of difficulty? Well, the pacing has a lot of stress on its seams in this regard: at the points of narrative-lull you can expect the more thought-provoking puzzles to crop up. But as you stand there, analysing the ways in which you might fling yourself to the next section, the muffled narrative pushes against the puzzle. The lack of time-frame in these sections almost becomes a detriment, with the imperative kicking against the fact of the diversionary puzzle. Then, just as quickly, the narrative springs into life; the previous mystery becomes a relic.

Any left over longing for a harder angle on the Portal 2 concept still finds its fulfilment in the form of the cooperative campaign: the final touch this game needed. While the single-player mode is primarily chamber-based, the concise narrative is the real, hidden backbone. Thus the cooperative focus on puzzles: a new take on the game, introducing the need to abuse four portals, and your friends’ free time. In short: the perfect outlet for the dedicated puzzle game experience.

So unless you’re looking for a stack of painfully difficult puzzles with little or no consideration for narrative pacing, I think it’s fair to say that most will enjoy this game. Now if only we could see a little restraint from the critical community’s love of the obvious. Oh, speaking of which, John Simmons and Stephen Merchant play prominent roles in this title. Are they amusing, well-implemented, apt even? Take a guess.