Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A taste of Mario
I am freaking out with the sheer awesomeness that is Super Mario Galaxy. I am bursting with Mario love and need to contain it somewhere while I'm trapped at work. My expectations for this game were simply Game of the Year. After playing it for a few hours yesterday, it has risen to a place far above simple awards. Galaxy has redefined platforming and adventure games forever. It has fundamentally changed how to construct a level in 3D space. Most importantly, Mario Galaxy is the new high water mark for pure gaming fun.
I am not prepared to write a full review yet, but I have to at least give you a taste of this experience. Bear with me as I try to arrange mere words to describe this truly revolutionary experience. I won't try to explain why this game is so very different from everything else quite yet. Let me play through the whole game and digest its gooey center first. But I can say, it will make everything smell like septic slime for quite some time. If it is possible for a game to be too good, this would be the prime candidate to take this award.
Note: The following three paragraphs describe three separate experiences I have had in the early goings of what promises to be one of the greatest games ever created. If you would like your Galaxy experience to be completely pure, you should probably skip this column entirely.
At one point early in the game I found myself inside a small cube. Gravity was not welcomed in this domain. The walls and ceiling were fair game for my wanderlust. Using ramps to navigate the six sides, I was sprinting around the enclosed world like an overactive rat on amphetamines. It was fun and pointless, just like a game should be. But then, as I set foot on the ceiling, a box beckoned to me. I am well-trained in Mario. I know to open tempting boxes. I spun into it, revealing... notes? Rainbow colored musical notes bounced out, forming a line along the ceiling and walls. As I collected them, the music changed. With each note I picked up, one note from the original Mario theme was played. As I sped up, so too did the tune. I would have clapped with joy had I not been holding a controller, but I did shout.
At another section, I found myself in an open world with a towering mountain ahead of me. From the bottom hole, a cave three times as high as Mario and ten times as wide, a black thing began to slowly emerge. I walked towards this hole, eager to see what would spring forth. I walked in front of it just as a boulder came rushing out. I did a turn-flip and sprinted down the path in front of me. Just as it was about to squash me, I did a long jump. The boulder turned slightly and rolled harmless away from me. Just as I caught my breath from a near-death experience, a whoosh of black flashed from my left. I spun the camera and saw a Bullet Bill speeding towards me. His nose was turning red (was he about to explode?) as I started to run away. I jumped over a little hill and ran back around to the front side. I had lost him. His little arms waved in frustration as he crashed into the hill.
During a race on the back of a manta ray, I accelerated into an approaching wave at an odd angle. My craft shot into the air with me still firmly attached to it. I landed an inch from the edge of a bottomless pit, my momentum carrying me to sudden doom. I grabbed the controller with two hands and slammed it to the side. My ray turned sharply, still drifting towards our mutual death. With one fin hanging precariously off the side, we both finally stopped. Thanking our lucky stars, I turned us back towards the race track and began to speed off towards the finish line. As I was trying to reorient myself, another wave crashed into us, finally knocking us into the dark reaches of space.
In every section of the game, Galaxy offers memorable experiences like this. It quickly changes between an exploration heavy adventure to a combat oriented action game to an intense platforming challenge to an off-the-wall gravity-be-damned navigational nightmare and back to exploration without even a blink or a warning. This is the most tightly designed game I have ever experienced. If Mario 64 showed how a 3D adventure game could be made, Galaxy shows how one should be made.
I am not prepared to write a full review yet, but I have to at least give you a taste of this experience. Bear with me as I try to arrange mere words to describe this truly revolutionary experience. I won't try to explain why this game is so very different from everything else quite yet. Let me play through the whole game and digest its gooey center first. But I can say, it will make everything smell like septic slime for quite some time. If it is possible for a game to be too good, this would be the prime candidate to take this award.
Note: The following three paragraphs describe three separate experiences I have had in the early goings of what promises to be one of the greatest games ever created. If you would like your Galaxy experience to be completely pure, you should probably skip this column entirely.
At one point early in the game I found myself inside a small cube. Gravity was not welcomed in this domain. The walls and ceiling were fair game for my wanderlust. Using ramps to navigate the six sides, I was sprinting around the enclosed world like an overactive rat on amphetamines. It was fun and pointless, just like a game should be. But then, as I set foot on the ceiling, a box beckoned to me. I am well-trained in Mario. I know to open tempting boxes. I spun into it, revealing... notes? Rainbow colored musical notes bounced out, forming a line along the ceiling and walls. As I collected them, the music changed. With each note I picked up, one note from the original Mario theme was played. As I sped up, so too did the tune. I would have clapped with joy had I not been holding a controller, but I did shout.
At another section, I found myself in an open world with a towering mountain ahead of me. From the bottom hole, a cave three times as high as Mario and ten times as wide, a black thing began to slowly emerge. I walked towards this hole, eager to see what would spring forth. I walked in front of it just as a boulder came rushing out. I did a turn-flip and sprinted down the path in front of me. Just as it was about to squash me, I did a long jump. The boulder turned slightly and rolled harmless away from me. Just as I caught my breath from a near-death experience, a whoosh of black flashed from my left. I spun the camera and saw a Bullet Bill speeding towards me. His nose was turning red (was he about to explode?) as I started to run away. I jumped over a little hill and ran back around to the front side. I had lost him. His little arms waved in frustration as he crashed into the hill.
During a race on the back of a manta ray, I accelerated into an approaching wave at an odd angle. My craft shot into the air with me still firmly attached to it. I landed an inch from the edge of a bottomless pit, my momentum carrying me to sudden doom. I grabbed the controller with two hands and slammed it to the side. My ray turned sharply, still drifting towards our mutual death. With one fin hanging precariously off the side, we both finally stopped. Thanking our lucky stars, I turned us back towards the race track and began to speed off towards the finish line. As I was trying to reorient myself, another wave crashed into us, finally knocking us into the dark reaches of space.
In every section of the game, Galaxy offers memorable experiences like this. It quickly changes between an exploration heavy adventure to a combat oriented action game to an intense platforming challenge to an off-the-wall gravity-be-damned navigational nightmare and back to exploration without even a blink or a warning. This is the most tightly designed game I have ever experienced. If Mario 64 showed how a 3D adventure game could be made, Galaxy shows how one should be made.
// posted by Tom @ 2:20 PM 
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