Friday, April 27, 2007
NBA Street Homecourt
In a world where video game reviews are taken way too seriously, a street corner preacher will stand tall atop his soapbox and extol the virtues of reviewing games only after they have been played to exhaustion. If such a person actually existed, I would stand right alongside this screaming man, handing out pamphlets to further sway passersby. I suffered through the likes of Hotel Dusk and Lost Planet to give the definitive word on the horrendous experiences I had to endure. But sometimes, a game is so ill conceived, it takes little more than an hour to solve the puzzle and deem it a failure. Electronic Arts made my job pretty easy with NBA Street Homecourt. It is so ludicrously awful, I could not even figure out what elements people are supposed to have fun with.
Normally, I only play EA games with a loaded gun pointed unwavering at my brow. There is a reason I have avoided their products for more than a decade - they don't make good games. But my expectations were different with Homecourt. I was actually looking forward to playing it. With the NBA playoffs at full throttle, I needed a basketball video game to sooth my beating heart during the hours when live basketball was not an option. And not only did I crave video ball, but I specifically demanded one that veered away from the sometimes sluggish pace of a simulation. A game without the full assortment of players clogging the court or utilitarian rules weighing me down. I was in the mood for NBA Jam, and Homecourt is the closest thing the industry has going right now. If anything, I was so excited for some street balling action, I would have looked past any little problems. For once in my life, I was actually biased towards an EA game, and they still managed to let me down.
Homecourt breaks the two most important aspects of arcade-style basketball: the pace and the rules. The pace, which should move at a blistering rate, is chunky and uneven. Because the game is all about showboating, offensive possessions actually take longer than they would in a normal NBA contest. With players rolling the ball around the count and spinning like Mikhail Baryshnikov, it feels more like a dance competition than a basketball game. When you get the ball on offense, you madly jam on the X and Y buttons to perform moves. This makes your player dribble the ball through their legs, roll it along the court, and generally behave like the ass of an ill mannered horse. Every possession has you striving not only to score, but to rack up style points as well. So every possession takes forever. You just dribble around like a selfish Harlem Globetrotter until you feel like dunking.
Notice I said dunking. This brings us to the other fatal flaw: the rules. Jump shots are completely useless in Homecourt. When making a stripped down version of a real sport, you have to carefully decide which rules to keep and which to toss by the wayside. Obviously, the vast majority of rules are useless, serving only to slow down the frantic pace. But there are certain rules that are necessary for a game to maintain some structure. For some reason, EA abolished goaltending. This means that every time someone tries to shoot the ball, you can just jump up and grab it right out of the sky. In NBA Jam, this was a feature you had to earn. Homecourt makes the process of snatching a shot right out of the air so ordinary, it removes any thrill of playing defense.
This breaks the game beyond repair. Every offensive possession is the same because the only legitimate way to score is by way of a dunk. On the other side of the court, the best strategy is to just hang back by the hoop and try to knock shots out of the sky or push would be dunkers to the ground. I played a few games against the computer on various difficulty settings and saw no variation in offensive strategy. Dribble like a fool and then dunk. I tried a few online games as well to see how people who have been playing since February performed. Though the moves they used to humiliate their opponent (me) were more diverse, such as rocketing the ball off my face from a foot away, the game was still a sloppy dribbling fest followed by a crazy dunk. Over and over and over again.
I have no idea how this could be considered fun.
NBA Jam is infinitely more entertaining than this game despite being developed more than a decade ago. There is a bigger emphasis on defense, more variety on offense and the experience is not halted by unwieldy special moves and inane trash talking. Homecourt is a complete joke. If it can't please a diehard basketball fan craving some arcade action, it clearly has no place in this world.
Normally, I only play EA games with a loaded gun pointed unwavering at my brow. There is a reason I have avoided their products for more than a decade - they don't make good games. But my expectations were different with Homecourt. I was actually looking forward to playing it. With the NBA playoffs at full throttle, I needed a basketball video game to sooth my beating heart during the hours when live basketball was not an option. And not only did I crave video ball, but I specifically demanded one that veered away from the sometimes sluggish pace of a simulation. A game without the full assortment of players clogging the court or utilitarian rules weighing me down. I was in the mood for NBA Jam, and Homecourt is the closest thing the industry has going right now. If anything, I was so excited for some street balling action, I would have looked past any little problems. For once in my life, I was actually biased towards an EA game, and they still managed to let me down.
Homecourt breaks the two most important aspects of arcade-style basketball: the pace and the rules. The pace, which should move at a blistering rate, is chunky and uneven. Because the game is all about showboating, offensive possessions actually take longer than they would in a normal NBA contest. With players rolling the ball around the count and spinning like Mikhail Baryshnikov, it feels more like a dance competition than a basketball game. When you get the ball on offense, you madly jam on the X and Y buttons to perform moves. This makes your player dribble the ball through their legs, roll it along the court, and generally behave like the ass of an ill mannered horse. Every possession has you striving not only to score, but to rack up style points as well. So every possession takes forever. You just dribble around like a selfish Harlem Globetrotter until you feel like dunking.
Notice I said dunking. This brings us to the other fatal flaw: the rules. Jump shots are completely useless in Homecourt. When making a stripped down version of a real sport, you have to carefully decide which rules to keep and which to toss by the wayside. Obviously, the vast majority of rules are useless, serving only to slow down the frantic pace. But there are certain rules that are necessary for a game to maintain some structure. For some reason, EA abolished goaltending. This means that every time someone tries to shoot the ball, you can just jump up and grab it right out of the sky. In NBA Jam, this was a feature you had to earn. Homecourt makes the process of snatching a shot right out of the air so ordinary, it removes any thrill of playing defense.
This breaks the game beyond repair. Every offensive possession is the same because the only legitimate way to score is by way of a dunk. On the other side of the court, the best strategy is to just hang back by the hoop and try to knock shots out of the sky or push would be dunkers to the ground. I played a few games against the computer on various difficulty settings and saw no variation in offensive strategy. Dribble like a fool and then dunk. I tried a few online games as well to see how people who have been playing since February performed. Though the moves they used to humiliate their opponent (me) were more diverse, such as rocketing the ball off my face from a foot away, the game was still a sloppy dribbling fest followed by a crazy dunk. Over and over and over again.
I have no idea how this could be considered fun.
NBA Jam is infinitely more entertaining than this game despite being developed more than a decade ago. There is a bigger emphasis on defense, more variety on offense and the experience is not halted by unwieldy special moves and inane trash talking. Homecourt is a complete joke. If it can't please a diehard basketball fan craving some arcade action, it clearly has no place in this world.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Super Paper Mario
It would be much easier to buy a gift for Intelligent Systems if they were a gardening company instead of a video game developer. If they worked with plants for a living, I would have the perfect gift for them to enjoy: pruning sheers. Any gardener worthy of a green thumb would already have a pair of razor sharp sheers at their disposal, but let's assume for a second that InSys had never heard of them. Their garden is lush and vibrant, but it has overgrown to the point of endangering those who enter its botanical refuge. The lilacs are undeniably beautiful but their vast numbers beckon forth a vicious swam of sting-wielding bees. Their maple trees are thick and hearty, but the sap oozes out in such a deadly flow you are liable to lose that arm you have resting against the trunk. Their garden threatens to engulf any being that wrongly chooses to find sanctuary under its shadowy leaves. The only way to save yourself is to hack away the petals and roots that threaten your very existence. If only there was a way to use those same sheers to trim the overgrown belly of Super Paper Mario.
I sense a horrible trend in the Paper Mario universe. Stylish graphics and witty writing take hold as the journey starts. The game urges you to see the world behind its doors, talk to the beings that live there, and laugh at the unbridled ridiculousness that is streaming forth at a constant rate. It is an inviting oasis to those who have wielded guns and been immersed in pools of blood for too long. Super Paper Mario is seemingly a bastion of hope for those who long for the days of gaming's simple past. It's a cute platforming/RPG hybrid that doesn't take itself too seriously. Unfortunately, the entire train ride of pleasure crashes abruptly into a mountain two thirds of the way through the game. With sheers in tow, Intelligent Systems could have chopped off the lagging later Chapters and delivered a satisfying experience from beginning to end. As it is, I long for the days when I was a naive boy shouting that Super Paper Mario was the best damn game on the Wii.
I don't think I have ever played a game quite like SPM, and that is a very good thing. Before release, I was not quite sure what genre this game resided in. As I watched video of Mario jumping upon the heads of Goobmas and Koopa Troopas, I chalked it up as a stylish new platformer. When I read tales of talkative characters, backtracking fetch quests and a story that does not end, I sadly admitted that it might be an RPG in disguise. The truth lies somewhere in the middle. As you manage items and listen to Count Blech cry about his unfair past, you'll recognize the agonizing pain of a classic Japanese RPG. But then you forget the pain while you shove bombs into the mouth of a hungry combustible being. The combination of the two genres provides enough action to please those dying for a new Mario platformer while dishing out the requisite story to make RPG gamers giggle with glee. It is fun and engaging and, despite the horrid finish, a really enjoyable game.
What makes the game take an abrupt U Turn towards the game's finale is a shift in what had worked so well the first five Chapters of the journey. This game is built on being completely irreverent. The levels are imaginative, the characters are unique and the game is genuinely funny. SPM is all about making fun of the both the gamer and the entire industry. One puzzle early in the game forced you to collect 1,000,000 rubies to pay back a debt. Searching in vain for an easy way to accumulate the wealth, you happen upon a hamster wheel. You have to actually run on the wheel for five minutes, numbly holding right on the D Pad while you wonder why such an insulting task would be in the game, to get a decent amount of money. Though many complained about this ridiculous chore, I thought it was very creative. Another task later in the game requires you to manually type out "Please" five times before you can coax a secret out of a reluctant caveman. It is puzzles like these that make the game unique and memorable. The game truly shines when it makes fun of video game conventions with the subtlety of a hammerhead shark.
Sadly, the later levels do not have any such ingenuity. The pastel wonderland is replaced by a lifeless castle. Even more damning, the story ceases to entertain. Where earlier scenes involve an obsessively geeky gecko trying to marry Peach, later levels are about human sacrifice. Sacrifice in a Nintendo game? Yeah, I thought it was a bad idea as well. SPM is about escaping the dark and mature games that inhabit this industry. It is supposed to be simple and enjoyable. When the creative puzzles fall by the wayside and the story turns into bitter tears, there is nothing left to hold the pieces together. The last level is a monochrome nightmare, removing the last semblance of fun from the early joy-filled chapters.
If only Intelligent Systems could have chopped off the last few levels and any reference to sacrifice. This could have been a shining example of game design. As it is, SPM is a bloated concept that falls into the same video game conventions it so thoroughly mocks. I still recommend this to any Wii owner yearning for a new experience. The first 15 hours are nothing short of a masterpiece in both art and writing. Just be prepared for a kamikaze crash at the end.
I sense a horrible trend in the Paper Mario universe. Stylish graphics and witty writing take hold as the journey starts. The game urges you to see the world behind its doors, talk to the beings that live there, and laugh at the unbridled ridiculousness that is streaming forth at a constant rate. It is an inviting oasis to those who have wielded guns and been immersed in pools of blood for too long. Super Paper Mario is seemingly a bastion of hope for those who long for the days of gaming's simple past. It's a cute platforming/RPG hybrid that doesn't take itself too seriously. Unfortunately, the entire train ride of pleasure crashes abruptly into a mountain two thirds of the way through the game. With sheers in tow, Intelligent Systems could have chopped off the lagging later Chapters and delivered a satisfying experience from beginning to end. As it is, I long for the days when I was a naive boy shouting that Super Paper Mario was the best damn game on the Wii.
I don't think I have ever played a game quite like SPM, and that is a very good thing. Before release, I was not quite sure what genre this game resided in. As I watched video of Mario jumping upon the heads of Goobmas and Koopa Troopas, I chalked it up as a stylish new platformer. When I read tales of talkative characters, backtracking fetch quests and a story that does not end, I sadly admitted that it might be an RPG in disguise. The truth lies somewhere in the middle. As you manage items and listen to Count Blech cry about his unfair past, you'll recognize the agonizing pain of a classic Japanese RPG. But then you forget the pain while you shove bombs into the mouth of a hungry combustible being. The combination of the two genres provides enough action to please those dying for a new Mario platformer while dishing out the requisite story to make RPG gamers giggle with glee. It is fun and engaging and, despite the horrid finish, a really enjoyable game.
What makes the game take an abrupt U Turn towards the game's finale is a shift in what had worked so well the first five Chapters of the journey. This game is built on being completely irreverent. The levels are imaginative, the characters are unique and the game is genuinely funny. SPM is all about making fun of the both the gamer and the entire industry. One puzzle early in the game forced you to collect 1,000,000 rubies to pay back a debt. Searching in vain for an easy way to accumulate the wealth, you happen upon a hamster wheel. You have to actually run on the wheel for five minutes, numbly holding right on the D Pad while you wonder why such an insulting task would be in the game, to get a decent amount of money. Though many complained about this ridiculous chore, I thought it was very creative. Another task later in the game requires you to manually type out "Please" five times before you can coax a secret out of a reluctant caveman. It is puzzles like these that make the game unique and memorable. The game truly shines when it makes fun of video game conventions with the subtlety of a hammerhead shark.
Sadly, the later levels do not have any such ingenuity. The pastel wonderland is replaced by a lifeless castle. Even more damning, the story ceases to entertain. Where earlier scenes involve an obsessively geeky gecko trying to marry Peach, later levels are about human sacrifice. Sacrifice in a Nintendo game? Yeah, I thought it was a bad idea as well. SPM is about escaping the dark and mature games that inhabit this industry. It is supposed to be simple and enjoyable. When the creative puzzles fall by the wayside and the story turns into bitter tears, there is nothing left to hold the pieces together. The last level is a monochrome nightmare, removing the last semblance of fun from the early joy-filled chapters.
If only Intelligent Systems could have chopped off the last few levels and any reference to sacrifice. This could have been a shining example of game design. As it is, SPM is a bloated concept that falls into the same video game conventions it so thoroughly mocks. I still recommend this to any Wii owner yearning for a new experience. The first 15 hours are nothing short of a masterpiece in both art and writing. Just be prepared for a kamikaze crash at the end.
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