Another Metroid 2 Remake - Thoughts

Back in my Stardew Valley entry, I mentioned how we're in an era where the torches of stale Japenese IPs are being passed onto Western indie devs. Nested in this claim are also hundreds of passion projects based off of the framework of an already existing franchise. Whereas a game like Stardew Valley seeks to leave its own unique mark on the world, there are plenty of fan-made games that aim to honor their predecessors by using an existing engine or creating a new—but unmistakably similar—one. Entries like Streets of Rage Remake, Mega Man Unlimited, and a veritable ocean of Doom wads both honor and expand off of their source material, rivaling (and sometimes surpassing) their elders in quality. Joining this pantheon of fan-crafted greatness is Another Metroid 2 Remake (AM2R), a game that masterfully melds Metroid 2 and Metroid: Zero Mission together.

As a diehard Metroid fan that regards Super Metroid as his favorite game of all time, I'm reasonably skeptical of anything that has Samus' Varia-clad sprite attached to it. The series has a special look and style to it that's not easy to imitate; though dozens of Metroidvanias are released each year, only Axiom Verge has come close to capturing the energy and tonality of the original NES Metroid. Delving into a fan-made project can also be a bit of a gamble, since you're unsure of the level of quality you're likely to get... or if the project leader even likes said game for the same reasons you do. An example of something I was kinda looking forward to was Super Mario Fusion for its clever twist on classic Mario gameplay, before it eventually devolved into an orgy of nonsense. Not every project suffers its fate of course, but I'd argue it's more likely for fan games to dive off the deep end due to a lack of guidance than your run-of-the-mill retail product (er, before the advent of Steam Greenlight I suppose).

Thankfully, Another Metroid 2 Remake suffers no such fate. Samus' old-new adventure remains loyal to its predecessor's design while updating it with the modern hallmarks of a 2D Metroid. You'll find familiar items scattered around slightly-familiar locations (Speed Booster, Power Bombs, stacking beams, etc.), and besides a handful of boss battles and one new area, AM2R follows the Game Boy version's structure quite religiously. There's ruins to plunder, dens to be smoked out, and boiling lava to be drained once you've eradicated enough metroids. Despite the Metroid 2 skin, it looks and handles mostly like Zero Mission (with a handful of tweaks you can apply to make it closer to Super Metroid), which is a blessing since the diminutive Game Boy screen didn't allow Samus much flexibility in the older title. Oh, and the soundtrack takes an inspirational nod from the Metroid Prime series, which fits surprisingly well here.

I cannot stress enough how successful AM2R is in both revering and expanding off of Metroid 2's core design philosophy. If you've never played it before, Metroid 2 is kind of a weird game that doesn't quite feel like the other entries in the series: you're never required to backtrack to previous areas for power ups and a significant amount of your time is spent fighting the ~50 metroids in their various evolutionary stages. It's one part spelunker and another part boss rush; Metroid 2 is the one Metroid game that feels truly oppressive, since you're always descending ever-deeper into the vile metroid nest (plus, the soundtrack and the 2-bit color palette contributed greatly in making SR388 feel dark and lifeless).

AM2R successfully takes these aspects and presents them to the player in a prettier bundle, managing to retain what made the original game feel so unique. There's still a sense of unease to encountering a metroid den or traveling too deep into a facility with no save point in sight. Metroid fights are tense, long, and arduous like they were in the original game, though significantly less dependent on spamming missiles and more about studying/absuing AI patterns, especially in the exhausting Zeta and Omega battles. The game is still centered around the bite-sized areas branching off of the main path, though they're thankfully far more original and less repetitive this time around. And lastly, there's plenty of slow, plodding spider ball portions where you'll travel along the ceilings of vast caverns looking for goodies.

These things may not sound too appealing to you—the metroid fights can definitely feel like a chore due to their high HP pool—but I feel that above all else, AM2R respects its forebearer. The project doesn't look upon the Game Boy entry as a failure that needed refinement, but as an under-appreciated gem that would flourish with a new coat of paint and some classic power-ups added. AM2R treats Metroid 2's enemies and layout with reverence, wanting to do more with them by envisioning what a SNES/GBA port of the game might be like. What conveyed this message best wasn't in the opening moments or all the subtle variations I noticed throughout the game—it was the quiet, ambient jaunt the player takes before reaching the final save point. This monsterless vignette is an extremely odd (and slightly uncomfortable) section in the original Metroid 2 that felt a little out of place considering you're already in narrow corridors for the final fifth of the game, but rather than ax the segment, AM2R's philosophy was to showcase—not replace. I still find that portion a bit strange, but it's cool to see that it's been kept.

Like Metroid: Zero Mission long before it, AM2R practically renders its precursor obsolete. For better or worse, it manages to keep the peculiar design decisions that made Metroid 2 feel so divisive whilst wrapping them inside of a more palatable skin, and each of the new tweaks, sounds, and fights it adds feel right at home. Sadly there are still some things that disappointed me—the final fight in particular is nowhere near as insanely nerve-wracking as its original incarnation (dull might be a good word for it)—but I felt that this entry should be about praising DoctorM64 for accomplishing something I'm sure many were doubting would ever even see the light of day. Honestly, it feels damn good to play a great, new 2D Metroid game in 2016...

... though it's unfortunate that Nintendo doesn't feel the same way about the project.

No Man's Sky - Thoughts

Forget the promises.

Forget the ambiguous interviews, bald-faced deceptions, and misled hype. These issues are no doubt problematic for the future of Sean Murray and Hello Games, but what I want to talk about is the naked beast that rests beneath it all. Behind the mask of this recent consumer frustration is what I would dare call a pitiful game. Forget what it aimed to be and what it may yet become some distant day—playing the No Man's Sky as it currently stands is a chore. I don't fault other players for finding enjoyment in it—tastes are subjective and all that—but a deep game it certainly is not. If you reap no pleasure from its repetitive structure and inventory masochism, then nothing but disappointment shall inevitably await you.

To better articulate the conclusion I've reached, I'm going to walk you through my (very brief) experience of No Man's Sky. The tutorial was a straight-up mess for me, because as awesome as it is to plop the player immediately down into the game world, there's very little direction or proper tutelage on what the player is supposed to be looking for or doing. Sure, I have a crashed ship there, but what are all these things on the ship? What is this laser module I crafted for my multitool? Which elements are more important than others? What does it mean to transfer materials from player to ship? Add to that the constantly decreasing life gauge from the toxic atmosphere, and my introduction to No Man's Sky felt more like a trial by fire than anything.

Not that its hands-off approach was a terrible thing, mind you. Like many players, I feel the game is at its strongest during its first few hours, where everything is captivating because it's new. Roaming the untapped surface of your first planet and feasting your eyes upon the spectacular (and bizarre) randomly generated creatures can be quite thrilling, especially if your home is thriving and verdant. Mine was not however, and wanting to get off of that putrid rock as fast as I could, I made a beeline for completing my ship ASAP. To its credit, the game does occasionally pulse a mission objective at the bottom right of the screen, but it was often interrupted by (paraphrased) "YOU HAVE PRE-ORDER CONTENT TO REDEEM!", forcing me to swap out my ship for the shiny preorder one in order to assuage its nagging.

Launching into space and yearning to leave that hellhole behind, I warp jumped to the next system and began engaging with my favorite part of the game: rigorously naming everything. Having a penchant for nonsensical words (my preferred moniker is dobu gabu maru after all), I dubbed my solar system "Kah Nim Thursh" and set about designating every planet a type of "Kah"—like "Sunburst Kah" or "Drygreen Kah". As each celestial body was a slight variant of a desert biome, I had a challenging (but entertaining) time thinking up alternate names to things like the pale, carbon-rich "Flatbone" and rotund, rocky "Stiffstone". It didn't feel like I was making active progress through the game but it at least felt like these planets were found and claimed by me, their names to endure until the last light in the universe dies out (or the servers go down).

But therein lies the rub—nothing you do in No Man's Sky really matters. Since there's no multiplayer there's no camaraderie or stake in claiming planets for you or your friends. While you can "upload" your findings, there's no communal drive that pushes the game forward, thus no reason to designate something by other than its RNG name. The planets are so large that finding outposts feels trivial, and the weird, tiny steps you take towards advancing the story are so microscopic that stumbling upon a Knowledge Stone felt as fulfilling as finding a generic rock. Combine this with a stupefying amount of patronizing congratulatory screens that take you out of gameplay (like "CONGRATULATIONS ON WALKING 5000 UNITS"/"TALKING TO 3 ALIENS!"), and it feels like your actions in this game may as well be devoid of intention, the design lauding you for simply messing about on its worlds.

This isn't to say I require a guiding hand in all my video games; Minecraft is one of my favorite games because it virtually simulates playing with Legos in a unique and dazzling way. Beyond that though, Minecraft also has an impressive gameplay loop between mining, crafting, and building that keeps you motivated enough to finish each personal objective (like say, creating a fortress in the sky). Even if No Man's Sky was just as "pointless" as Minecraft, it remains inferior because the ancillary elements are wholly uninteresting. Shooting feels poor and awkward, space mining is laughably shallow, planet mining is painstakingly grindy, and the fact that the same space station, outposts, and basic elements await you in every solar systems robs the player of any kind of intrigue or danger. At the very core of No Man's Sky exists only a loathsome inventory management simulator, something that is both awkward yet necessary to interact with in order to progress, and will have you shaking in disbelief at how dumb it can be (I need four inventory slots open to craft the ingredients for one ship part even though I have all the raw materials to make it already? Why? Why? Why?!!!)

I tried to keep my pessimism in check while playing, but my space sojourn had swiftly reached its end when I unfortunately became a permanent resident in "Kah Nim Thursh". You see, since I switched to the preorder ship I accidentally skipped the steps required to obtain the warp drive recipe by jumping to a new solar system, meaning I was SOL unless I could find antimatter somewhere (a necessary ingredient used to travel to a new system which I couldn't manually craft [and I had already bought & used the one in the space station]). I had switched ships again in the new solar system before I discovered this error, and despite my attempt to locate my abandoned preorder ship so I could use its remaining fuel to jump back to my starting galaxy, there was no way to place markers or survey the topography of a planet to find where I had discarded the vessel. Having to choose between restarting the game or forging ahead in hopes that I stumble upon more antimatter, I opted instead to simply abandon the game altogether. There, in "Kah Nim Thursh", my lone space ranger had met his end, the tutorial bubble endlessly suggesting I jump to another system with a ship that was incapable of doing so...

... It was a very fitting way to close out my time with No Man's Sky.

No Man's Sky may put up a strong argument if it was a $20 Early Access title, but its a poor purchase as a released, retail product. Besides getting irrecoverably stuck in it, there was no reason for anyone to visit my "Kahs" and no structures worth seeing that couldn't be seen elsewhere—hell I couldn't even notify people where I was stranded. Each planet contained nothing more than useless, randomly generated materials for me to abscond away with, or psudeo-Spore fauna I could shoot when I got bored of watching them trot in circles. No planet felt like home, no solar system felt necessary, and all I really cared about at the end was mindlessly scouring the surface for inventory upgrades that would allow me to play the game longer. No Man's Sky's true objective wasn't hidden out among the flickering stars, but rather surreptitiously concealed inwards, nestled at the bottom of my stupid, tiny backpack. I walk away from it feeling that despite all the seething rage Mighty No. 9 received at its release, Inafune's effort was at least fun to play.

Shantae - Thoughts

It was hard putting my finger on what exactly I didn't like about Shantae. Since the original Game Boy Color cart is ludicrously expensive, I downloaded the game on my 3DS when it hit the Virtual Console store and only got around to finishing it recently. I played it in chunks that were months apart mainly because the game repeatedly failed to grab me; I kept trying to convince myself to keep playing, that it wasn't a wasted purchase. Finally, after trudging through it, I can conclude that while Shantae looks absolutely stunning, what lurks beneath its polished exterior is a game that excels at nothing.

My main gripe is that Shantae doesn't feel good to play. The half-genie's attack is short and ineffectual, forcing her to pause and stand in place as she whips her hair, freezing the combat and any reaction you might make. This wouldn't be too problematic if enemies took 1-2 hits to defeat, but every single baddie has a ton of health, especially when the sun goes down and their vitality is doubled. You'll soon learn that the best strategy is to simply flee from the lengthy encounters, which becomes frustrating since the cramped GBC screen means you have to react fast to avoid damage. I eventually felt comfortable with the game when I had accumulated five heart containers, merely because I could tank my way through any area at full speed.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that you can buy a wide range of items to help you tackle your foes, but I found equipping and using these to be more of a hassle than simply leaping over the fleshy obstacles. Avoiding so many enemies also meant that I lacked the funds to purchase attack upgrades (as I was spending all my money on health potions and spinning balls), so I have no idea if those would've helped or not—I didn't want to grind on enemies to find out either (900 gems? Getouttahere!) The only enemies I couldn't skip were the bosses, and they were more or less a mixed bag: some were too easy, some were too hard, none of them really memorable.

To its credit, Shantae looks phenomenal. WayForward (to me) is synonymous with "excellent animation, iffy gameplay" and Shantae is undoubtedly the poster child for their ludography. Jammed in here are elaborately animated sprites, a variety of amazing dances, the aforementioned day & night cycles for every area, and more colorful enemies than you can shake a stick at. The care and attention put into the presentation makes the gameplay that much more disappointing, because you feel the game should play better than it does.

Besides the kinetic parts of Shantae, the design also comes into doubt frequently too. Shantae can pick up animal transformations in each of the game's four dungeons, which is a neat spin on the classic Zelda formula, except that they take abundantly long to switch between. I like the idea behind dancing to transform, but if I knocked Link's Awakening for its cumbersome item-swapping, Shantae receives the same complaint tenfold. The dungeons themselves aren't that interesting either, punishing you with frequent dead ends and containing highly repetitive puzzles that as soon as you've solved once, you've solved a hundred times. Warping between towns is also locked behind hidden collectibles which cripples exploration, since you're pushed to finish the dungeons before exploring each new area—a "better" solution to this would be to have the town warps unlock when you arrive, and use the collectibles towards upgrading your attacks.

I'm not averse to trying out the other titles in the series—in fact, I'm interested in seeing what Shantae's sequels expand on. But the first entry honestly feels like a rough draft, containing too many glaring errors (poor combat, so-so puzzles, terrible world hopping) in spite of its careful construction. The half-genie hero is a lovable character and I think I can understand her appeal, but this is a far cry from being one of the Game Boy's premier platformers. Thus far, you've failed to impress me Shantae.
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Images obtained from: youtube.com, utah3ds.com, engadget.com

Extermination - Thoughts

[contains minor spoilers]

For as close as Dino Crisis stuck to the Resident Evil formula, it remained a memorable (and pretty enjoyable!) game because of it. Mikami's early survival horror style isn't designed for everybody in mind, but the way you're forced to conserve munitions and memorize important intersections is a unique touch that's integral to his design. Survival horror isn't intended to make you feel comfortable—the genre is supposed to stress you out but keep you moving, urging you to learn the intricacies of its mechanics as fast as you can, or doom your save to incompletion.

So what would a bad Resident Evil clone look like? If you've been searching for the answer to this question, look no further than Deep Space's Extermination.

Where to start with this? Swery65 is the brains behind Extermination, which should already provide ample gameplay concerns (I adore Deadly Premonition, but a fun game it is not). Akin to Carpenter's The Thing, the player is whisked off to an Antarctic base that's soon overrun by fleshy alien monstrosities. Despite the Metal Gear Solid 2 resemblance, Extermination most closely mimics Resident Evil, from the limited health pickups, to the constant backtracking, to the scores of notes to read, to the awkward combat, even down to resource-based saves. As you traverse through more of the complex and reunite with former friends, the facility will gradually get more corrupted and new enemies will begin to spawn into old areas... and that's the only commendable idea the game has.

Extermination botches everything else—the combat in particular is an unmitigated chore. You must manually aim to attack your opponents and their weak spots which discourages fighting early on (as it's much easier to run away), and as the game progresses the dollar store abominations gain more and more health. This leaves your gun and its mods feeling greatly ineffectual, especially since the respawning slug enemies are so numerous that it's often more dangerous to fight rather than flee. Add to this the fact that you must stand still to climb over obstacles or enter rooms and you have yourself a recipe for frustration.

To understand why this game can get so aggravating, you must first learn that there's essentially two health systems—your standard physical health percentage, and an infection percentage. Health is easily manageable since you'll come across a lot of pickups, but the infection rate of this game is downright unbalanced. Foes frequently increase the percentage by double digits when you get attacked, and when it reaches 100% you'll start to gradually lose HP (and get stunned when touching water, which is everywhere). Your only hope if that happens is to hobble back to a save room to cleanse yourself, but the much simpler solution is to just restart in order to keep your supplies intact. I know it doesn't sound too bad, but it's absolutely awful considering how often you'll be assaulted by those dastardly slugs. Good luck trying to escape from those slimy bastards too, as I found no reliable method to shake them off before they burst into neon green gas.

The story in Extermination is barely worth mentioning. There's really nothing interesting or unique here outside of the hilariously bad voice acting ("I'll give my LIFE to protect her"). Since the major conflict between the game's central characters happens off screen you're given no means to understand why Andrew is so important to everyone (what kind of guy was he? Why should we care if he died, or if Dennis feels guilty about it?). The most disappointing part about the story is that there's barely any narrative in the notes you find; whereas Resident Evil uses its notes to both provide information and expand its lore, Extermination primarily uses them to give you the most boring, unnecessary instructions possible. Want to read several pages on draining water from the basement of the facility when the solution is right in front of you? What about extensive military orders for characters that get one minute of screen time? How about a three page list of specifications for a 20mm gatling gun? A good indicator of how bungled the narrative delivery in this game is is that only near the end of the story do you discover what the monsters are even called.

Speaking of the end, I cannot understate how stupid the final battle is—it's really, really, really awful. It's only beatable through sheer brute force, as the second and third forms of the boss relentlessly pelt you with damage, meaning that if you have less than 6-8 healing items stocked up you're basically screwed. Despite my playtime being 3.5 hours total, that encounter alone took nearly two hours thanks to the dozens of retries it took me; rarely do I come across a section in a game where it legitimately feels like it wasn't playtested, but lo and behold, Extermination always finds a way to disappoint.

The uncanny similarity between last week's Wolverine and Extermination is that both games punish you for fighting its enemies, but whereas Wolverine is short enough to remain more entertaining than frustrating, Extermination is the exact opposite. Its combat is terrible, its world is boring, its story is barely amusing, and its level design is ultimately shallow (the battery packs are used for what, like four doors?). Every remotely interesting idea gets squished faster than the slugs in this game do—Extermination is arguably survival horror at its worst. Perhaps the only achievement I'll grant it is that—despite its best efforts—the game is at least beatable. Oh, and Roger's death is pretty good too.
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Images obtained from: youtube.com, giantbomb.com

Wolverine - Thoughts

Did you ever want to know what it would be like if Wolverine was a coward? Well have I got good news for you! LJN's aptly titled Wolverine is a platformer that discourages fighting, punishing the player with terrible combat if they dare engage their enemies. It's best for Logan to run away with his tail tucked between his legs, finishing every level by clumsily leaping over all foes and obstacles. The game is actually somewhat entertaining when you're forced to play this way, though the awful design makes it more funny than fun.

Despite being known as one of the most dangerous of the X-Men, LJN neuters Wolverine by reducing his attack range to a scant few pixels in front of his face. Our eponymous hero can unsheathe his claws for some extra range but it comes at the cost of health, and considering how often he'll collide with enemies in an attempt to pummel them, it's easier just to skip combat altogether. Oh, and there's also one little teeny tiny itsy bitsy caveat: you possess no invulnerability frames at all, so any mistakes on your part will be trumpeted by "BWEWEWEWEW" as your health evaporates faster than dew in the desert at high noon.

As abysmal as Wolverine seems, it's still beatable. There's some atrocious traps and pitfalls awaiting you (the blind jumps and insta-death in the "Trial by Fire" level are absolute shlock), but the game rewards memorization similar to Battletoads or Werewolf: The Last Warrior. By the end of it I was sitting on a fresh cache of lives, having mapped efficient routes for each level in my head. It's not particularly fun for those that abhor trail and error, but as someone that grew up on these types of games this task was right up my alley. True, the game frequently irked me, but the path to its mastery was brief so I harbor no real ill will towards it.

Wolverine is a game that treads a thin line between player engagement and monotony. The fact that it makes combat so deplorable is kind of intriguing, especially considering the bizarre i-frame preclusion (they had to have playtested it and known it was a terrible idea, right?). Without extra continues sprinkled throughout the game I would've soured on the experience much faster, but for what it is, it's certainly far from the worst of LJN's library. Wolverine is a messy platformer that demands that you take advantage of its poor design, and I'm always down for that so long as it's viable (and doesn't cost me a dozen hours).





... And this doesn't really fit anywhere, but I wanted to mention that when you fill up the "BERZERKER" bar, Wolverine begins to flash and attack entirely at random—isn't that just so awful it's amazing?

Mighty No. 9 - Thoughts

It's difficult finding the words to describe my feelings on Keiji Inafune's Mega Man successor, Mighty No. 9. As a backer of the game and longtime fan of the blue bomber, my expectations for it were sky high with Inti Creates onboard. Gradually that excitement fizzled out as the project was repeatedly delayed, each video of the ongoing alpha builds doing nothing to rouse me. Receiving a lukewarm reception at launch, I didn't quite know what to expect from Rock's estranged cousin, and even after finishing it... I still don't know what to say. If I had to lead with something, it's that Mighty No. 9 is a troubled game.

... That's not to say it's a terrible game. Embittered fans (and foes) of a franchise are often too eager to resort to hyperbole as a means of entertainment, chomping at the bit to watch a game crash and burn. Keiji Inafune also did himself no favors when he boldly attempted to grow the Mighty No. 9 franchise before the game was even released, his business strategy coming across as unchecked arrogance. Comcept having to port the game to ten separate SKUs and implement a plethora of promised features outright crippled development, and the longer the game stayed in development the worse it seemed to age. Stacking these factors together meant the game was ripe for verbal lashings when it was released, with plenty of people gleefully denouncing the folly of both Kickstarter and Inafune alike.

But here's the kicker: Mighty No. 9 is most definitely a Mega Man game at heart. Those that peer at the older titles with rose-tinted glasses may not see the comparison, but the Mega Man franchise has always had its fair share of issues. From the hilariously incremental differences between the NES games to the baffling design decisions that plagued the PlayStation titles, the 2D series has ranged from "pretty good" to "grossly mediocre" (and in X7's case, "an affront to platformers everywhere"). This isn't to excuse Mighty No. 9's problems but rather to illustrate that Comcept's debut is more or less what I would expect from a (non-NESlike) Mega Man game made nowadays, flaws and all.

Of the many problems Mighty No. 9 has, nothing stands out more than its bland visuals. The game looks like a PSP title, complete with stretched textures and pitiful character models. The character art is fine in and of itself, it's just that the execution leaves a lot to be desired. I would've loved for the game to adopt a sprite-based artstyle—especially since Inti Creates is so damn good at it—but luckily after an hour with the game you quickly become numb to the cavalcade of flat, lifeless polygons before you. The only part where I thought to myself "hey this looks alright" was the anteroom before Countershade; every level frankly fails to impress.

The gameplay holds up quite well in comparison. The main mechanic that separates Beck from his inspiration is that he can dash into weakened enemies to absorb them, gaining a temporary boost to one of his stats. It gives the Mighty No. 9 a closer feel to the X series with its focus on dexterity and speed, the pace at which you can clear certain sections of a level being surprisingly satisfying (provided your frame rate remains stable). Level design is alright too—I've seen many lambaste the game for it's terrible stages, but outside of Countershade and Call's missions there's a decent heaping of traps, enemies, and environmental hazards to keep an eye out for. Certain sections in the game are sadly too demanding for a Normal playthrough (crumbling towers in Pyro's stage, the turbines in Dyna's stage, spike sections in each of the penultimate levels), but barring that the game is surprisingly fair and fun.

There's a couple of other things I would also like to remark on—like how I think it's really cool that bosses help you out after you defeat them, and that the final boss is atrociously designed—but my thoughts are so disorganized that I'm trying to hit all the important bits before the end of this entry. I don't think it's a bad game, but I also don't think it's a game that people unaccustomed to Mega Man will enjoy. A legion of tiny issues lie in wait beneath its unremarkable exterior, but there's nothing in there that I would deem game breaking or unforgivable; I lean less "it's boringly mediocre" and more "this game seems to be designed by amateurs". In a way, it's almost more fun to take Mighty No. 9 apart piece by piece and analyze it rather than play it, pointing out where it works best and where it trips and falls flat on its face.

Mighty No. 9's greatest sin is that its sloppiness appears unbefitting of its pedigree. I specifically state appears because the game is actually an oddly balanced blend of both Mega Man (1) and Mega Man X6. There's a promising blueprint here—insofar as it's worthy of its legacy—but the game is spread so thin between all its different modes (four difficulties, two characters, co-op, speedrun, challenge missions) that corners were bound to get cut. If more time was spent refining the core gameplay for a single platform I reckon a lot more people would've been pleased with the outcome of this project—as it stands now it's uh...

... something, I guess.

Hook - Thoughts

Hook is a brief yet pleasant title that's all about following lines. If that sounds really simple to you, it's because... well, it is. Despite being labeled as a puzzler, Hook feels more like the skeleton of a puzzle game, requiring only a rudimentary grasp on its mechanics to reach the end. Your first task in the puzzle genre—which step do I take first?—is the only question that the game asks of you, every mechanic introduced serving to obfuscate the answer. It's a fun diversion for the maze-minded, but don't expect your brain heat up while playing it.

If there was one thing that could greatly increase it's longevity, it would be to implement a "least moves" objective for each problem. Introducing something as simple as "complete the puzzle in X number of black button clicks" would at least force the player to look at all options on the table, instead of chipping away at the tangled latticework piecemeal. It might not seem like much, but since the game can be safely completed in under an hour I kinda wish there was just a tiny bit more to do.

Screenshots belie its complexity; Hook is very approachable and aesthetically pleasing title that I gladly devoted two brief afternoons to. While I still wish there was more lurking beneath its surface, every game I play can't be Fire 'n Ice—what's here is nice, especially when you take the price tag into account.