Let's Build a Zoo lets you gene-splice your way to a perfect park
Just John Hammond your way to riches
When I first booted up the beta build of Let's Build a Zoo, I had humble ambitions. Safariland, as I had named my establishment, would be a family-friendly park. Our first enclosure held tiny little rabbits, graciously offered to Safariland by another zoo in Australia.
And then I got the opportunity to buy a hippooose on the black market. Things kind of spiraled from there.
Let's Build a Zoo is an upcoming zoo management game from Springloaded and No More Robots, and on its face, it's a pretty cute little tycoon game. There is a darker side though, and if you choose to, you can forgo lofty ideals of a pristine animal sanctuary and dive deep into the seedier side of zoo management.
As Safariland grew, so did my costs. Researchers, caretakers, and janitors all cost money—even my sources of cash, like my hot dog and balloon stands, required staff members to operate, and those are all salaries I had to pay. A soda machine was a stopgap; I needed income, and that meant ticket sales.
To draw people in, I needed the rare and exotic, not just rabbits. At one point, an artist made me an offer: he would paint my horses, for free, to look like zebras. They wouldn't actually be zebras, and it was highly unethical, but it was tempting. I decided no, I could meet my demands with one simple addition: the hippooose.
One of the big draws of Let's Build a Zoo is its gene splicing. Once you've built a CRISPR station, you can mix any DNA strands you'd like to create new species of animal. The hippooose is a combination: one part hippo, one part goose. I'm not so sure mixing the mind of a goose with the body and destructive capabilities of a hippo was a good idea, but the people loved it.
Soon, I was expanding, and learning a lesson in the process: tons of zoos had normal animals, but I could have rare animals, the kind no one's ever seen. By demo's end I only managed to forge one more gene-spliced attraction—a half-snake, half-rabbit hybrid—but I was already seeing the appeal. In other tabs there were black market options, and the ability to buy or sell my creations to help fund my ventures. Let's Build a Zoo's trailer implies even darker machinations, but aside from some light gene-splicing that would make Jurassic Park's John Hammond bust out his wallet, I kept things mostly above board.
Even playing a stuffy, ethical zoo manager was really engaging, though. The initial appeal of a darker side to zoo management is exciting, but what kept me fully absorbed was just how easy it was to map out my business. New terrain and pathing is easy to plot out, buildings can freely move, and enclosures can swap animals at any point.
Most of the important work is ensuring animals are happy in their enclosures (at least, if you want them to be happy). Keeping them engaged with toys and trampolines is crucial, as is ensuring there are enough water troughs. Attendees might enjoy seeing a beautiful fountain or a fun stand-up to take pictures with, but the animals are why they're really there.
In that way, I would've liked a little more of a guiding hand towards some of the deeper mechanics. Let's Build a Zoo is way, way deeper of a sim than you might think just glancing at screenshots. Enclosures have a variety of objects that can affect both the animal's well-being and the appeal of the enclosure to park goers; employees have salaries that have to be managed, and recruiting new workers means posting a job and searching for candidates; supplies need to be watched, and corners can be cut if you need a little boost to make payments.
To that end, a little more guidance in navigating menus, or even understanding why certain advancements or options were being gated, would help. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to figure out how the water management worked, and even after playing through the beta period, I had some trouble relocating where certain options were or figuring out why I couldn't add a second researcher yet.
Yet the best testament to how much Let's Build a Zoo pulls the player in is how much I want to keep playing. It has that crucial hook of playing just one more day, just expanding a little bit more, always keeping a new goal or some new addition a few steps ahead of you. It took me very little time to start working with the tools Let's Build a Zoo provides, and within minutes I was imagining what I could do once I filled out the research grid and developed new tools for sprucing up my park.
And that's not even diving into some of the other things that are unavailable in the beta but still visible. It seems like there's going to be a frankly incredible number of avenues to go down in managing a zoo, when all is said and done. How that gets done is really up to you; nice and neat, or shady and extremely profitable?
All I know is, once the full game is out, I'm making more hippoooses. Let's Build a Zoo is slated to launch sometime in the future on PC.
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Oh look, a Switch Pro Amazon listing, amid more rumors of its imminent announcement
Any day now for the Pro, just like the last three years
Switch Pro rumors are on overdrive.
I mean…Nintendo rumor mongering is kinda always hyperactive. But with outlets like Bloomberg getting on the train this year, it's been a little more interesting than just random Twitter insiders saying "it's coming" every month and then correctly "predicting" a first-party game announcement.
Amid several rumors from the game writing circle that Nintendo plans to announce the Switch Pro soonish (even before E3!), Bloomberg reports that the Switch Pro could come "as soon as September." The newest info alleges that the Pro unit will actually "replace" the original (with it being "phased out over time"), and that Nintendo intends to sell it above the typical $299.99 asking price.
Allegedly, Nintendo has secured the semiconductors needed for this massive Switch Pro rollout, and assembly will "begin" in July. Thanks to Twitter account Nintendeal we now have a more active lead, as Amazon Mexico listed a "New Nintendo Switch Pro" model on the site: the listing has since been taken down.
No one knows why Nintendo announces things on the days and random mornings they do: it's their way. I've heard numerous stories of the publisher intending to reveal something at X time, only to move it to Y, which might be the next day or weeks/months away. We've seen this happen with games as well as any number of other content releases, it's just how marketing works. Especially…well, now.
It's very clear that this is an important, delicate announcement, and Nintendo needs to get the Switch Pro messaging right. If Bloomberg is correct and it will "replace" the original model, they need to have some sort of FAQ ready to answer everyone's concerns. Exactly when the original will be "phased out over time" is likely part of that messaging.
Nintendeal [Twitter] Thanks John!
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Why did I wait so long to play Undertale?
Oh, now I get why people went nuts over this thing
Have you ever been too intimidated to play a video game? I think I'm mature enough to say that I have been on multiple occasions. Usually, it's with a survival horror title. I'm a sucker for the stories of those games, but a massive coward when it comes to the actual scares. To give you an idea of how easily I frighten, I barely made it through Gone Home. I'm sure there are many great games and narratives I've missed over the years because the expectation of jump scares and pure dread intimidated me too much to actually give it a go.
Undertale was another title that intimidated me. Not because of its content, of course. I've known since before it released it was an RPG inspired by the likes of Earthbound and Moon: Remix RPG Adventure, which are both right up my alley. But every time I approached the possibility of popping the game into my Switch, I'd have people giving me a reason not to. Namely, the fanbase.
We are long past the point when Undertale was at the center of the gaming zeitgeist, but at the height of its popularity, some fans on the internet took their obsession with it way too far. A cursory Google search of "Undertale fans toxic" will bring up a wide variety of articles and videos on the problem. I was warned that I shouldn't talk about the game on Twitter if I wasn't doing a pacifist run, lest I invoke the wrath of strangers with an internet connection and way too much time on their hands.
In hindsight, I should have realized nobody gives a shit about my Twitter account and just done it anyway. But at the time, that was enough for me to never open my Switch copy. It's sat on my shelf ever since, accumulating dust and hopefully, a respectable resell value on eBay. As the years passed and the frenzy over the game subsided, the itch to play it stayed with me. Seeing Sans appear in Smash Bros. only added to that desire, but it was after I went through Moon last year that I realized I'd waited long enough. I made a pact with myself to play the game within the year, and when it was added to Xbox Game Pass back in March, I knew the time had come.
If you don't know what Undertale is about, honestly, stop reading this and just play it. It's only about seven hours long, and like with Twin Peaks, it's best to go in with as little knowledge as possible. If you read my lede and are worried you might play the game wrong, don't be. For starters, you can always delete your save file if you mess up. But more important than that, you can easily get the best ending possible if you just follow directions.
RPGs have a long history of making players jump through flaming hoops if they want to see the best endings to their stories, so the lack of some substantial requirements here was something of a surprise. But the further I ventured through the Underground, the more I realized it wouldn't make sense to gatekeep such a conclusion behind absurd tasks. Because Undertale is fundamentally about one thing: listening. You listen to monsters when they're your enemies and you listen to them when they're your friends.
Taking their words to heart will help you solve their issues and ultimately guide you toward the preferred conclusion to this tale. Hiding the best ending behind some ridiculous collect-a-thon wouldn't make much sense for a game that rewards players for having a sympathetic ear.
I will say, had I played this before Moon, the idea of treating monsters like they're not your enemy might have had a bigger impact on me. It's still something of a revolutionary idea in an industry that's always thinking of bigger and bloodier ways to dispose of your opponents, but it wasn't as fresh as it might have been. However, the experience still impacted me due to the themes sewn throughout the game. Kindness, determination, and non-violence are all prevalent, but it's Undertale's message of courage that perhaps resonates the most, and nowhere is that better illustrated than with Dr. Alphys.
All the principal characters you meet have to muster up some form of courage for you to reach that true ending, such as the courage to let go or the courage to admit defeat. For Dr. Alphys, the Underground's neurotic royal scientist, it's the courage to be herself, which, for many people, is a lot harder than it sounds. As somebody who has been massive twine-ball of self-doubt for all of his life, her story arc spoke to me as if Toby Fox had secretly monitored my life like I was the subject of The Truman Show. Sure, my past blunders don't have the extensive consequences of hers, but they still eat at me like Joey Chestnut at Nathan's Famous.
I think that's one of the things Undertale does better than the games that inspired it. The denizens of Moon were mostly just kooky characters that made you laugh, but the monsters of the Underground are like celebrities in Us Weekly — they're just like us. They may look different and eat questionable food, but when you take a step back, it's easy to see these monsters are no different than the humans, and boy, is that a lesson a lot of people in this world could use right now.
Certainly, one of the most enjoyable aspects of playing through Undertale is the fact that it tries to make you a better person when you put the controller down. You don't really get that a lot in this industry, so for one title to have so many morals is substantial. Play through and you'll learn about the power of love, the importance of giving people a chance, and the fact that doing the right thing isn't always the easiest. In fact, sometimes it can be downright difficult if my many deaths at the hand of Undyne are any indication.
While it may not be easy to do what's right, it certainly is rewarding, and Undertale does a great job of showing players the positive consequences of their peacenik ways. As much as I appreciate the game for providing players with a visual cause and effect of their actions, I do think there is one instance where it can be too demanding of the player's virtue.
Very early in your adventure, when most players are still getting their bearings, you come across a bake sale by spiders for spiders. You have the opportunity to purchase one of the two items, but chances are the first time you reach the bake sale, you won't have enough money for either. That's what happened on my first attempt at beating the game. Without enough money, I just moved on. I didn't return when I had enough funds, and I certainly didn't think to grind for cash in a game where you're not really supposed to grind. Besides, it's just an item shop. What's the worst that could happen?
A few hours later, I got an answer to that question. Deep in the Hotland section of the Underground, you'll encounter a second spider bake sale where both items are probably well beyond what you have in your wallet. A hop, skip, and a jump after that, you'll walk into a spider lair, home of the arachnid Muffet. While she's technically a miniboss, she is, without a doubt, the most difficult opponent I faced in Undertale.
I lost count of how many times I died trying to spare her in my first run through the game. You have to survive 17 increasingly difficult rounds with her without giving in to the temptation of bashing her head in with a burnt pan. Eventually, I had to give up, delete my save file, and start from scratch, this time making sure I bought something from that first bake sale. Because if you do that, you avoid this battle altogether.
It's frustrating to know that you can do everything right in this game — help the monsters instead of killing them, go back and make friends with your would-be enemies — and still be subject to an excessively difficult battle all because you missed your opportunity to buy a spider pastry hours earlier in an area you can't return to once you leave. I can totally understand why people get a neutral ending their first time through because I wanted to kill that damn spider after a dozen deaths. Ultimately, the point of the spider bake sale is to show players that every little thing you do matters, and you should always support the most vulnerable among us. But, surely, there is a better way to get that message across than subjecting us to that infuriating encounter.
Thankfully, once you get past Muffet, the pacifist run is smooth sailing. After making my way back to that point, it was only a couple of hours more before I reached the eyegasmic final battle and the True Pacifist Ending. And I gotta say, even with that restart, this game floored me. It started out good, and then it just got better and better until it was blowing my mind at every corner. Undertale is an immaculate game and easily one of the best adventures I've ever been on. It's the type of experience that makes me want to create a game of my own even though I know that will never happen.
Now that I've seen it through to the end, I'm actually quite glad I waited to play this. Had I started it five years ago, it definitely would have had the same effect on me as it does today. It's just that good. But had I played it then, I probably would have been sucked into the culture surrounding it. I would have been in forums and comment sections arguing with the more toxic members of the fanbase, and that would have led to me to resent the game. So I'm just glad I got to skip all that drama and enjoy Undertale for the masterpiece that it is. And having beat it, I can't wait to play Deltarune…
…in 2027.
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Konami's Time Pilot '84 is this week's Arcade Archives release
So, we're just living in 1984 now, I guess? (send tweet)
Another week, another classic shmup from Hamster's Arcade Archives, bringing the quarter-munchers of yesteryear onto today's platforms. This week sees the return of Konami's space shootin' sequel Time Pilot '84, now available to download on PS4 and Nintendo Switch.
Released on the arcade scene in — unsurprisingly — 1984, Time Pilot '84: Further into Unknown Worlds is the sequel to Konami's own Time Pilot, but chooses to switch out the timezone-hopping, jet-fighter gameplay of the original for a free-roaming perspective, a spaceship, and a more structured "futuristic" setting.
Players guide the vessel as it fends off hordes of enemies attacking from all directions. A deft hand for evasion and pixel-perfect aiming are required if the player wishes to stay alive, destroy the baddies, and combat each stage's Silver Space Boss. Honestly, the game bears little to no relation to its predecessor, suggesting that this was a separate project adapted to capitalize on the original's success.
Time Pilot '84 is available to download now on PS4 and Nintendo Switch, priced at around $8. Check out the action in the video below, courtesy of YouTuber Old Classic Retro Gaming.
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Maneater on Switch isn't quite jawsome, but is worth a bite if it's your only option
Fin Baller
You all know me… know how I earn a living. I'll review Maneater for you. But it ain't gonna be easy. Switch port. Not like booting up the PC to go down to Resident Evil Village. This port report embargo… swallow your weekend… a little eyestrain, a little finger cramp, and down you go.
I'm gonna keep it quick, that'll bring back the players, put all your eShop customers on a paying basis. But it's not gonna be pleasant. I value free time more than your gaming Twitter clout, Chief. I'll check out your Switch port. I'll install it for 3,000 clicks, but I'll play it — and review it — for 10. Carter got no volunteers, and I've got no mates. But you gotta make up your minds: 10,000 clicks… For me, by myself.
For that you get the screencaps… the summary… The Whole Damn Thing.
Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water, Tripwire Interactive has returned with a Nintendo Switch port of its open-sea adventure, Maneater, which troubled doomed beachgoers and out-of-their-league fishermen back in the spring of 2020. Lauded by many as "a game they didn't know they wanted," Maneater won over a cult of bloodthirsty fans who were able to push through numerous gameplay issues and technological shortcomings and simply bask in the gleeful nihilism and wanton violence found in the fathoms of Port Clovis.
Maneater sees the player oversee the life of a young bull shark, torn from her mother's carcass and tossed back into the waters by ornery Cajun fisherman, (and reality TV star), Scaly Pete. Players guide the young shark as she evolves from a helpless orphan into a terrifying local legend. As the player explores Port Clovis (a thinly-veiled stand-in for the Louisiana Bayou), our dead-eyed protagonist will battle dangerous predators, ward off fame-seeking hunters, damage the local scenery, and slaughter holidaymakers, before ultimately coming jaws-to-face with her parent's killer in an apocalyptic, operatic, clash of the titans. Eat your heart out, Hemingway.
Nintendo fans will be pleased to hear that the Switch port of Maneater is more than serviceable. While the original game was never a resource-hungry powerhouse, it's worth remembering that it launched on PC and consoles with myriad technical problems — from quest-breaking bugs and a brutal save-wiping glitch, to a strange technical issue that would cause consoles to overheat! A year on, most of these more serious problems have thankfully long since been eliminated.
That isn't to say Maneater for Switch is perfect. I've frequently come across an issue where prey — be it fish or human — will simply "freeze" into position, requiring a nudge or bite to get them moving again. I've also had on-screen prompts hang around a little longer than they were needed… minutes longer. While some players admit that the adventure's imperfections are part of its charm and appeal, it should be clearly stated that while Maneater's most egregious problems are no longer a concern, the Switch port features its own finful of minor irritants.
Maneater runs smoothly in both docked and handheld mode. Frame rate is important in a title such as this, where atmosphere and immersion are dictated by the natural flow of the water. Save for a couple of extremely brief drops upon resurrection, or when entering a new area of the map, Maneater scores high in the all-important stability stakes, albeit with a little sacrifice of both resolution and draw distance.
It should also be noted that Maneater is a control-heavy title, with battles requiring frequent use of almost every button on the Joy-Con, often in quick succession. As such, I found handheld mode a little unsuitable for longer sessions, with a sense of hand cramp building during particularly long fights. Toss in Maneater's notoriously unruly camera, and this might be a job for the Pro Controller.
The Switch port of Maneater sports comparable visuals to its PS4/Xbox One brethren. While none of the scenery or character models were ever top-tier, Maneater's palette of comic-book colors and atmospheric lighting bring life and variety to its aquatic world, giving each area of Port Clovis — as well as its gorgeous "Grotto hubs" — unique identity. The Switch handles these effects admirably, though it should be reiterated that Maneater — even on the most powerful platforms — is typified by its "last-gen" aesthetic.
So, should you bite? It's a tough call. Maneater as a whole is a fascinating example of raw gameplay built around the concept of fun, action, and chaos. Nobody can take that away from it. But it remains both the title's blessing and its curse. While Maneater boasts an engaging story, uniquely told, and offers players a meat-and-potatoes thrill ride akin to the gaming of yesterday, Tripwire's dramatic adventure is undeniably a repetitive one, offering much of the same objectives and action over and again, with only the slightest of variables.
This is not a fault of the game's design, per se, but more of its conceptual limitations. After all, there isn't really all that much for a shark to do other than jet through the surf, chewing up fish and hapless fools in dinghies. Quite honestly, I think Maneater's price weighs heavily on its value. The Switch port is launching at $40, while the PS4/Xbox and Epic Games Store editions — now 12 months old — often feature innumerable sales. The cheaper you can find Maneater, the more likely you are to overlook its negatives and enjoy its many positives.
A year into its reign of terror — and on the crest of its first major DLC expansion — Maneater's Switch debut is a solid one. The repetitious nature of its core gameplay remains an undeniable downer, but the unbridled catharsis of being mankind's greatest predator, (now with electric teeth!), is as spirited as ever. Maneater for Switch is a suitable purchase for those wishing to go portable for the aquatic apocalypse. Those with access to other platforms might be better served picking up the original release.
[This port report is based on a retail build of the game provided by the publisher.]
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Sonic the Hedgehog (2006) was an embarrassing 15th birthday present
Thanks, Sega, this kusoge was exactly what I wanted
This may sound peculiar, but I don't necessarily pick games for this column and expect to hate them. Spelunker, for example, I legitimately like, despite its reputation. So I went into Sonic the Hedgehog '06 with a little bit of history with the title. I figured I'd mostly be picking it apart for its mediocrity; a disappointing release for the new generation of consoles. I'd probably make fun of the typically daft Sonic plot.
But after I sat down with the game for a little while, I got this feeling of betrayal. I was warned, sure, but someone should have intervened. The person who sold it to me should have first demanded a psychological evaluation. My PS3 should have just obliterated the disc. Why does no one care that I do this to myself?
What I'm saying is Sonic '06 is shockingly bad. I thought I knew what I was in for, and I was wrong.
My first experience with Sonic '06 was back in, well, 2006. My best friend in college was a huge Sonic fan. Massive. Sonic Riders, Shadow the Hedgehog, he ate it all up. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't completely blind to the series' declining quality. It's fine. At the time, I was still in love with Star Fox and we were able to comfort each other while the caskets of our favorite franchises were slowly being lowered into the ground.
He kept the faith, though, so he scooped up Sonic the Hedgehog on release. Oh, he knew it was a bad game. He played it quite a bit, but was quick to demonstrate to me its flaws. The one that I remember best was a level that starts Sonic out on a grind rail, but every time the level loaded, the blue blur would just blur past the rail and into the awaiting death below. Every. Time. Later, he eventually returned and told me what the problem was: he was pressing a direction on the stick when the level loaded, and apparently you weren't supposed to do that.
I don't remember if I ever touched the game at that time; I don't think I did. I've never been much of a Sonic fan. Maybe as a child I had some appreciation for the titles that I'd play on my cousin's Genesis, but the Sonic Adventure games had me scratching my head to see the appeal. Oh, Chao Garden? Yeah, that's whiz.
The problems with Sonic '06 are apparent the moment you start playing it. The camera is locked inverted on both the X and Y axis and there's no way to change it. Fine, I can get used to it. The framerate plummets frequently, but things don't just get choppy, the whole game completely slows down. The game controls like a shopping cart that just gained sentience and became aware of the horror of its existence. The loading screens are glacial, and if you fail a task, you have to go through four of them to try again.
Just grabbing rings in the first stage is a pain. When the blue blur is at top speed, it feels like he ignores commands completely. This is at its worst when there are pickups in front of you or the little dunce starts leaning dangerously towards the edge of a loop. The camera doesn't give up any fucks, either. It constantly gets stuck behind scenery, tries in vain to follow the action, and is sometimes preoccupied with showing you something cool happening in the background rather than what's directly in front of you.
The best parts are when you can take a hand off the controller. Grind rails, boost sections, the little wall jumpy things; they all give you a chance to reach down and pet your dog (or cat, if you're into that sort of thing). They look cool, I guess, they're just kind of shallow and pointless.
The story is a nauseating, disconnected mess. It all revolves around Princess Elise, who Dr. Eggman wants for her connection to the Flames of Disaster, which will let him rule the world or something. Most of the plot is Elise getting re-kidnapped and Sonic trying to get her back. Constantly. Oh my goodness, constantly. Sonic turns his back for a second and, whoop, she's gone.
There's time travel, the Chaos Emeralds do what they do (which is anything the writer wants), and the story even includes interspecies romance. Even if the plot was actually coherent, we'd still have to put up with insipid lines like, "If you have time to worry, then run." At least the cutscenes look nice for a 2006 title.
You can also play as Shadow the Edgehog and Silver, who is also a hedgehog, but from the future. To the game's credit, each character's chapter has its own style of gameplay, with Shadow driving crappy vehicles and Silver throwing things. They each tell their own side of the story, and honestly, I almost started liking Silver's gameplay. The framerate chugs like a train submerged in molasses, but throwing stuff — when it actually works properly — is satisfying and his platforming is mostly inoffensive. Physics based attacks were so popular back in 2006. Just look at Half-Life 2 and that expansion for Doom 3.
Sonic '06 is absolutely excruciating to play. It seems that every few minutes it comes up with new ways to break and screw the player over, but there's sort of a reason for its failure.
Sega wanted this big, new, next-generation Sonic the Hedgehog to revitalize the franchise and celebrate the series' 15th anniversary. All hands were on deck until Sega decided they also wanted Sonic on the upcoming Wii, and Sonic '06 wasn't going to fit with its specs. So, in its infinite wisdom, Sega slashed the team in twain — with one half staying on the PS3/360 version, and the other half going to work on what would become Sonic and the Secret Rings. Around the same time, series co-creator, Yuji Naka, dropped from Sega and took off with 10 high profile staff members.
Normally, you'd expect a publisher would either extend development time or replenish the ranks of their developer so they could meet their deadline, but no. Sega was insistent that this title get released by the end of 2006 as a celebration of their beloved mascot's anniversary. This would result in the video game equivalent of suffocating someone with their own birthday cake.
The team had to rush to make a complete game, which meant that they had to forego the typical pleasantries of bug testing and polish, and does it ever show. Most of Sonic '06's problems come down to things that should have been fixed in the final product. I think that if the team was actually given a proper chance, they might have pulled something reasonable together. The pieces are there, they were just put together with a glitter glue stick. I still doubt I'd enjoy the finished result — as I mentioned, I'm not really a Sonic fan — but I probably wouldn't be talking about it like it crawled out of my toilet.
But even if we absolve the dev team of sin, Sega still decided to release this at full price. It even had the gall to release DLC for the game. Paid DLC for an unfinished game. Classy. This was its attempt to establish the series on a new generation of hardware, and instead it cemented it as a laughing stock.
Both the Sonic franchise and Sega itself has had ups and downs since then. Behind every Sonic Generations and Sonic Mania there seems to lie a Sonic Boom: Rise of the Lyric and Sonic Forces, but even those games don't reach the nadir of Sonic '06. I assume. Please don't make me play them.
For previous Weekly Kusoge, check this link!
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Dragon Quest at 35: What are your memories of this legendary series?
Cblogs of 5/22 to 5/28/2021
–Gamingnerd writes an excellent retrospective on the Dragon Quest series on its 35th anniversary.
–Flegma talks about maps in video games and the importance of "orienteering" in development.
–Exber reviews Pandora's Tower on the Wii.
–Humantofu wonders if there is really a proper way to play The House of the Dead today.
–RiffRaff writes about the history of the Adventure genre by focusing on some key examples.
–Black Red Gaming continues their playthrough on Sir Brante's Life, According to Myself and Others.
–Skeet warns Sega that a riot is coming if they don't release Daytona USA on the Switch.
–My Enormous Hairy Downstairs Kitchen writes about the magnificent speed of Wipeout 4.
–GamingDino introduces the Raptor in ARK: Survival Evolved.
–TheBlondeBass wants to makes some "Weapon Stories" for Nier: Automata.
–ChronoLynxx opens this week's TGIF thread for open community discussion.
Thanks to our readers for the great blogs and to Lord Spencer for providing us with the recap. This week, Destructoid will undergo some technical, which may temporarily affect the Cblog section as various levers are flipped and dials are spun. So just this bear this in mind if you plan to write a blog this week. Hopefully normal service will be resumed ASAP.
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A cheesy take on why E3 is more than just a convention
For the past few years, a speculative question has been buzzing around as we get closer and closer to summer: Is E3 dying? By the mid-2010s, game studios started to pull their booths and presentations out from under the E3 banner because of costs, and the event started selling tickets to the public when it was usually known for being more exclusive for those in the industry. The writing was on the walls that something was up, and the global pandemic causing cancellations of any in-person events seemed like the final nail in the coffin.
Now that E3 2021 is finally here, it got me reflecting a lot on my own experience — I was able to attend the convention for the first and only time in 2018, when my career in games was just beginning, and I didn't quite yet know what I was getting myself into.
I started getting back into gaming again when I was in college, and attending E3 immediately became a new bucket-list item for me. Part of that was because I felt so isolated in my small town and going all the way across the country was a huge deal, but also because in any coverage I saw of the event… it just looked so cool. The lights, the game demos, the booths — not to mention the presentations with huge, roaring audiences, were more excitement than I had seen in my entire childhood.
After deciding I wanted to work in games, I was able to land an editorial internship with pop-culture website Nerdist, where they let me write about game news for their website. Huge shout out to them, they went out of their way to make sure I had an amazing experience that summer — including letting me tag along to E3, knowing it was a dream of mine.
I remember walking onto the show floor in the LA Convention Center, so overwhelmed by it all. There were huge, floor-to-ceiling light-up panels with some of my favorite characters, life-size replicas of props from various Nintendo properties, and a façade of New York City with a life-size Spider-Man hanging from it. It was a real "Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore" situation.
The definite highlight for me was the behind-the-scenes demo and interview with Sucker Punch for Ghost of Tsushima. One of the Sucker Punch employees (I think it may have been a lead programmer?) was playing the game live for us, while one of the directors (I feel terrible for not remembering which one) was describing what was going on in the game, as well as some of the behind-the-scenes work that went into making it. At one point he launched into an impassioned monologue about the research they had done about samurai katanas, and enthusiastically described that the various designs on the hilt have different meanings.
That moment stood out to me because I could tell that he didn't care about all of the fanfare or clout surrounding the game, he just honestly loved what he was making and wanted other people to love it, too. I even (embarrassingly) teared up, because working with people who are so insanely passionate is what made me want to work in games in the first place.
Another great moment from that day was going to play the Shadow of the Tomb Raider demo. For the sake of making sure I had the coolest experience possible, my boss just walked up to the Square Enix booth and asked if we could get a gameplay demo, even though we didn't have an appointment.
For context, there was a huge line that wrapped all the way around the booth, and people were waiting hours to get in. But we showed them our press badges and they ushered us right in, as there were a few consoles that were reserved specifically for journalists. Let me tell you, I had never felt like such a rockstar in my life, and haven't since. This line of work definitely has its perks, but as some kid who was just experiencing this all for the first time, it was a special moment.
Despite all of the moments that made me feel like I was being punk'd because it was so cool, I think there's an interesting irony in this whole experience. That E3 weekend was just at the start of my career, and one of the first big things I really did that launched me into this industry. At the same time, though, the convention was closing out another chapter in its storied history, to the point that it's likely to never be the same event ever again.
The games industry continues to grow and make more money each year, sure, but I think more than growth, this industry is about a life and death cycle. Look at what happened to fads like motion controls, or Guitar Hero. E3 was just as much of the game industry's history as anything, but now it's having to change, adapt, and evolve to survive.
In past journalistic work about E3, I posited that it's likely to die soon, which I was sad about. At this point anything could happen, but now I'm more convinced that the convention will instead rebrand as something new, rather than disappearing entirely. It might sound kind of scary that E3 is in some ways threatening to disappear, but based on the convention's history, it would honestly be more unusual if it didn't go through some major changes every few years.
It's been fascinating to see how the industry is working around the pandemic with all of the virtual announcements, but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't something missing from the whole thing. The awkward, slightly out-of-touch presentations and subsequent memes about them are probably what I would look forward to the most from E3 every year, and I think gamers' love for the hype surrounding them is what makes it feel like something we all really look forward to.
I look back on that weekend so fondly because it was the last real time I looked at games with a certain childlike wonder. It was before I became jaded, before I went through everything in the games industry that put cracks in the rose-colored glasses through which I would view my career. I grew up very sheltered, and honestly led quite a boring life until I became an adult, which was both good and bad. In being shielded from how rough the real world could be, I was blissfully unaware of all of the bullshit I was going to have to slog through.
But that turmoil would eventually come to an end, and although I'm still picking up some of the pieces, I can always look back to that weekend as being a pristine example of my hope in the games industry. That hope may have dulled over the past few years, but it's still there, and coming closer to the surface every day. Hell, I'm still writing about games, right?
If it was always your dream to attend E3, maybe you felt similarly. Making the trip to LA to be among the throngs of gamers and developers is a pilgrimage of almost spiritual proportions, especially when coming from a small town where everyone looks at you like you're an alien when let on to your love of point-and-click adventures. Take it from someone who lived it, it might be for the best that that dream stays a dream. After all, "don't meet your heroes" is a cliché for a reason.
In theory, a physical E3 conference going away shouldn't be a big deal at all. 99.9% of gamers likely wouldn't get to attend the event in person, so their experience wouldn't change anyway, right? Well, I think it's because E3 is more than just a conference every year — it stands for something much bigger than that.
E3 is a presentation for gaming companies to show off their latest work, sure, but as it grew to be more consumer-facing over time, it became beloved by developers and fans alike. It went from being a more stoic, sterile event to garner the attention of potential investors to a monolith of sentimentality, preaching the hope of a bright future from the pulpit of the LA Convention Center.
If we're honest with ourselves, most games don't usually live up to the hype they create through their trailers or gameplay demos, especially when they're initially received by an audience of thousands of fanpeople foaming at the mouth. It's not that they always give us empty promises per se — it's that they have to pack all of the fun you could possibly experience in dozens or even thousands of hours of gameplay into a 2-10 minute package. The amount of coordination and choreography it takes to make a perfect gameplay demo is honestly really cool, and something I'd love to go into more detail about in another piece someday. But I digress.
My whole point here is that everything you're seeing at these events, whether it's as a developer or a fan or a journalist, is orchestrated with the maximum amount of care to make sure you're walking away thinking it's the coolest thing you've ever seen in your goddamn life.
Some might say that that's insincere, or that they shouldn't be manipulating people, but I beg to differ. Think of it this way — despite all of the garbage that's floating around in the games industry, it's an industry that's incredibly sentimental. "Welcome to the next level," "Now you're playing with power," "Power to the player." For decades, gaming marketing has been all about power, and agency, and crafting your own life to be exciting and magical. It makes sense coming from an industry that was saved from a huge crash in the '80s by being marketed as children's toys.
[Image Source: Sony Interactive Entertainment]
Sure, sometimes we can take this sentiment to cringy proportions, but I think that the desire to create the life that you want to live, outside of what other people might dictate to you, is a noble one. And over the years, E3 has become a tentpole of that ideal.
Are the presentations and lame jokes and weirdly dated rituals kind of uncomfortable to watch? Of course. Games have certainly come a long way in being a more, uh, acceptable pastime in the eyes of the mainstream. However, there will always be a little part of me that will never quite be able to take it seriously — but I think that's what makes it endearing in the first place.
The whole point of games, and escapism really, is to provide us with ways to indulge us in wild fantasies that reach down into quintessential parts of what make us human — becoming the hero, or romancing our crush, or even doing something as mundane as creating our own cozy farm.
E3 has become the epitome of the love we all share for what is arguably the most immersive form of escapism there is: interactive media. It's a place we can all go, either online or in-person, to indulge in our unabashed excitement, which isn't something we'd normally get to do in our adult lives. To me, sharing that kind of childlike wonder is one of the most beautiful things in the world, especially in spite of what we have to face on a daily basis.
It seems like every year I grow older, life just gets a little bit more complicated. But you know what stays the same? The excited anticipation I feel when I start gearing up for E3. The event might look different, sure — it might change venues or cease to be an in-person event altogether. But I am a firm believer in the fact that we will never get rid of the mythos surrounding E3, because it has grown to be bigger than any one convention or moment. Somehow, the life cycle will always continue.
In spite of the bitterness I hold for certain parts of the industry, there will always be a little part of me that retains that childlike wonder when it comes to seeing new announcements or trailers for a game I'm amped about. Those pre-rehearsed gameplay demos don't seem disingenuous to me at all — in fact I feel quite the opposite. They are the epitome of the fantasy we get to escape into, and when you mix that with the sheer enthusiasm for getting to see it for the very first time, it's pretty magical.
At the risk of sounding reductive, it's easy to get down on the bad things in life, whether it's something as big as a global pandemic or something as small as our favorite gaming convention potentially closing down. The cool thing about humans, though, is that we're really good at finding meaning in things, especially when it's something bigger than ourselves. It's pretty silly that I'm speaking about our collective love of gaming like it's some kind of religion, but if it's something that helps me or anyone else live a happier life, who cares? Embrace the cringe.
Noelle from 2018 would be shocked to see how much she's changed, for better and for worse, but I'd want to tell her to remember to find the hope in the things she loves, even when they don't stack up to the exceedingly high expectations she set up for them. In the same way I'm able to rediscover my joy in an industry that hasn't always been the kindest, we will all continue to find our passion for games, regardless of how E3 continues on from this point. It's a bummer to maybe lose what we once had, but I think it's more important to remember why we grew to love it in the first place.
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Here's Virtua Fighter 5: Ultimate Showdown's roster in all their boxy, retro glory
Real Polygon Kid
Earlier in the week, we revealed that Sega's upcoming slugger Virtua Fighter 5: Ultimate Showdown was getting an amusing DLC bundle, offering players the opportunity to play as the entire Virtua Fighter 5 clan in a fashion recalling their old-school, polygonal roots.
The "Legendary Pack" DLC, which launches June 1 for $10, features two skins for each of VF 5's pugilists, reflecting each character's P1 and P2 regalia. Best of all, latter-day characters such as Brad Burns and El Blaze also receive VF 1-style skins, giving us a glimpse of what might have been had they appeared in the formative projects of Sega AM2.
For funsies, I took an in-game shot of every roster member sporting the new skins. They all look pretty great and some, such as Brad Burns and Vanessa, have two distinctly different looks to choose from. Sadly, the faces are not animated, so we don't get to see Lau's creepy, eyebrow-raising sneer. The Legendary Pack also includes an option to replace the redesigned U.I. with that of the original release in this classic series. Now all we need are a full range of Figmas. Make it happen, Good Smile Co.!
Virtua Fighter 5: Ultimate Showdown launches June 1 on PS4. It will be included in June's PlayStation Plus selection, or can be purchased separately for $30, which includes the DLC.
Akira Yuki
Jeffry McWild
Pai Chan
Lau Chan
Wolf Hawkfield
Jacky Bryant
Sarah Bryant
Kagemaru
Shun Di
Lion Rafale
Aoi Umenokoji
Taka-Arashi
Lei-Fei
Vanessa Lewis
Goh Hinogami
Brad Burns
Eileen
El Blaze
Jean Kujo
The post Here's Virtua Fighter 5: Ultimate Showdown's roster in all their boxy, retro glory appeared first on Destructoid.
Whatcha been playing this week, Destructoid?
I've been RIDING THE TIGER
Something wicked this way comes. It starts with an "E" and it ends with a "3". Except it doesn't end, because that is the way of modern gaming media. What was once a half-week of constant excitement, reveals, news drops, and hard work has become a drawn out, months-long gala of constant streams, hours dedicated to individual games, and 160-minute PC showcases.
Still, it's hard not to feel the vibe as we approach gaming's biggest week. Who knows what we will see? I guess it comes down to what you want to see. Regardless, the best part of E3 is spending it with y'all, and we hope that this year you'll join us in the comments once again with your takes on this year's industry offerings. You'll make it all worth the effort. You always do.
But enough living in the future, let's live in the now. And by "live in the now", I mean "live in the past"… erm… Look, I'm telling you that I'm back in the boxy world of Virtua Fighter, courtesy of Sega's upcoming re-release Virtua Fighter 5: Ultimate Showdown. It's been nice to get my three-button grove back on, at my age it's about as complicated as my greying cells can manage. I have many thoughts on this re-release, (which I'm not allowed to share right now), so be sure to watch out for a review come Tuesday.
I hope you all have a wicked weekend, whatever you're getting up to. But before it begins, dive into the comments and share the games that are currently spinning up your hard drives. I've been doing this for years now, never missed a Saturday, and you still come out in droves, which means the world to me. So keep the train chuggin' along, and share with us your current gaming obsessions.
Have a wonderful weekend, from all of us at Destructoid.
The post Whatcha been playing this week, Destructoid? appeared first on Destructoid.
Unreal Engine 5 demo's robot dabs if you input the Konami code
Robot, hit the dab
Games have all kinds of hidden secrets, and few are as infamous as the Konami code. It's so pervasive that it's become the input to trigger Easter eggs in other games, and even demos like one for Unreal Engine 5.
Discovered by Jon Terp and shared on social media, and confirmed by an Unreal engineer at Epic, inputting the Konami code during the UE5 demo Valley of the Ancients makes its giant robot dab. And it dabs a lot.
Apparently if you enter the Konami code in the @UnrealEngine 5 demo project the big robot dabs. Forever. 10/10 pic.twitter.com/o8eYHvPaKc
— Jon Terp (@JonTerp) May 27, 2021
Unreal Engine 5 has been pretty remarkable to see in motion already, but this adds another layer. Hopefully someone ends up recreating this moment in Dreams as well.
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Strangeland – Review in 3 Minutes
From our sister site The Escapist
In this 3 Minute Review, The Escapist's Jesse Galena covers Strangeland, a dark point-and-click adventure from Wormwood Studios, the team behind Primordia. I have a phobia of creepy carnivals.
There's only so much time each week to check out new games, much less play them — much less fully review them! — and inevitably, plenty of interesting games are destined to slip through the cracks as many of us move onto the next shiny thing. To supplement Destructoid's usual coverage, we're teaming up with our sister site The Escapist to fill in some of these gaps with their helpful 3 Minute Reviews.
The post Strangeland – Review in 3 Minutes appeared first on Destructoid.
Microsoft Flight Simulator patch brings down its base file size
But can it fit in the overhead storage?
Video games are big, and they've kept getting bigger. So it's always nice to see devs find ways to make a reduction in their storage imprint like the Microsoft Flight Simulator team has with v1.16.2.0.
In its release notes for an update on May 25, the Microsoft Flight Simulator team notes it has performed some optimizations for the initial full download of the game. Now, the base game should be only 83 GB in size, rather than over 170 GB.
That's a boon for anyone trying to save on storage space right now, especially as storage solutions can be fraught. Microsoft Flight Simulator hasn't hit the Xbox Series X or S just yet, but when it does, having a smaller impact on the file storage will be pretty handy. Those expansion cards don't grow on trees, you know.
Microsoft's beefy flight sim has been getting steady updates since its launch last year, adding crafted locales and, of course, virtual reality. I'm absolutely terrible at flying anything in it, but the tech behind the sim has resulted in some amazing things, like tracking real-life storms from a virtual cockpit.
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