RIP NPG
I wrote these reviews several years ago for a now-defunct gaming site. I post them here for your edification, with the occasional annotation in italics.
Vib-ribbon
The premise of Vib-ribbon is simplistic enough. Vibri the wireframe rabbit runs along a line, jumping over obstacles. That's it. A friend of mine interpreted this scenario as a metaphor for constant tedium and anguish, but I mention this only as an indication of how messed-up in the head my friends are. There are four base objects for Vibri to navigate, and she must also contend with four combination objects. There is no deep and meaningful dialogue, and there are no intriguing plot twists. Still, The Phantom Menace did okay, didn't it?
Gameplay: The gameplay is in the same vein of Parappa the Rapper, but more entertaining. Jump the obstacles and Vibri gains points. Fail, and she will become more and more wobbly, before eventually being reduced to a frog, a worm, and then nothing. Clear many obstacles in a row to evolve back up, eventually becoming Super-Vibri! Clearing the obstacles is merely a matter of timing, and anyone reasonably adept with a joypad will sail through the first two levels with ease. Of course, once combination objects appear, things get more complicated. Of course you merely have to press two of the four buttons - but which two? Then the obstacles start coming thick and fast, drifting around one another, turning upside down, and generally making you feel suspicious about whatever you last ate. However, I take no issue with the learning curve; I found it to be spot on. After a while, recognising the shapes becomes a matter of instinct, not thought.
With only three levels on the disc, you could be forgiven for thinking that Vib-ribbon is a short game. You'd still be woefully incorrect, though. The game is actually infinite in length, as you can switch to any of your own audio CD's (or games with audio tracks) and play levels generated from those instead. This feature is where Vib-ribbon comes into its own. Different music gives different games. Simplistic beats give evenly spaced obstacles, while more complex songs set the shapes twirling upside down and moving about again. Some music renders the game fiendishly difficult, but I have never once felt annoyed with it. The mere sight of that funky rabbit playing dead before leaping to her feet with a smile is enough to spur me on to try again!
Control: The controls are so simplistic that I can explain them right here, redundant though it may be. L1 for blocks, down for pits, R1 for loops and X for zig-zags. For combinations, press two buttons at once. (I won't give examples; I've insulted your intelligence enough.) The control system is easy to grasp, but of course missing a complicated obstacle can reduce the strongest constitution to thrashing wildly at whichever buttons come to hand, flailing like an idiot. This is why the game should be played in mixed company.
Graphics: Some people, no doubt, when presented with Vib-ribbon, will complain that the graphics are 2D. At which point I will scream "They're not 2D, moron!" before slamming their faces repeatedly into a hard, flat surface. Vibri and her environment are in fact rendered in black and white wireframe graphics. This adds to the game's charm. I would never have paid it any attention in the first place had my attention not been caught by the line-clad rabbit prancing about in circles on a screen in the shop. Vib-ribbon is testament to the clichéd-but-true fact that graphics do not a good game make. In any case, wireframe animals are great.
Sound: Of course, due to the very nature of the game, you can have any music you want in the background. But that aside, the provided soundtrack (by Laugh And Beats) (It's Laugh And Peace, actually. It's still ace, though.) is fabulous. I challenge anybody to listen to it and not smile. The Japanese have a wonderful way with lyrics, and I readily confess to having listened to the music in its own right on several occasions. Anyone who doesn't like it should be violently cheered up by a mob of drunken morons shouting "Cheer up mate, it might never happen!"
I should also make reference to the voice of Vibri herself, as it is absolutely incredible. It's a synthesised squeaky chatter, and reduced my friends and myself to helpless hysterics upon first hearing it. Also, the voice has not been translated, so you may pick up a rudimentary grasp of Japanese. If you can make out a word she's saying, that is.
Conclusion: Simply put, Vib-ribbon is one of the best games ever. It's a pure example of gameplay over everything else (which may account for its non-release in America.) I urge everyone to go and buy it. Import it, if necessary. I'm sure having to guess what the menu options mean merely enhances the whole experience. Put it on your present list, found a religion, and announce a festival of plenty, just so you can get it more quickly.
Pros: Constant fun. Good music. Vibri is great. Unlimited possibilities.
Cons: A little trial and error can be necessary to find a track of appropriate difficulty level. You are, of course, limited to your own music library.
Rating: If Vibri were to jump with enthusiasm to a height proportional to how great this game is, she'd now be bouncing higher than a cheque for thirty billion quid signed by Swampy.
(Looking back: Whilst I would still argue that Vib-ribbon is a great game, I have to admit the novelty wore off sooner rather than later. I still have the soundtrack on my MP3 player, though.)
Tombi
Tombi (or Tomba, if you happen to live in the wrong place) is a funky pink-haired dude. He lives in the magical world of the adventure game, where the paths are deceptively straight and the people all mill around waiting to be asked questions. However, the equilibrium of the land has been shattered by malevolent porcine invaders. Well... to be honest... evil pigs. Yes. Now why did nobody ever think of that one before?
Tombi's a tad upset, as these pigs have stolen his gold bracelet. It has sentimental value (being a man of the wilderness, Tombi's not particularly materialistic) and so he sets out to recover it. His adventure will take him through the village to meet the hundred year old man, who will send him to the village of the dwarves, whhere the Dwarf Elder has a quest for Tombi to complete before they can tell him the secret of how to go about destroying the evil pigs... and that's where the playable demo ended, so I went went and got a hold of the full game.
Gameplay: Tombi may have 3D aspects, but it's clear where its roots lie. A good old 2D platformer! The little guy leaps and bounds his way around the areas, capturing the pigs, avoiding bottomless pits and collecting fruit. It's a familiar set-up, and it's still great. The game also has RPG/adventure elements. Tombi must collect items and use them to complete various quests. Not all of them are necessary to complete the game, but you find yourself wanting to achieve as much as possible. In villages, you wander around talking to the locals, who may give you useful information and new quests. Your ultimate goal is to destroy the evil pigs. But you'll be running around the various different areas for a long while before you can get close to achieving that task.
The game takes place on quite a large map, with several diverse zones, ranging from overgrown rainforests to cursed villages. You will meet various people on your travels - dwarves, thieves, mice and the like. Also, there are the ever present wise old men, whose ages become increasingly ludicrous (the hundred year old man is by far the youngest...) Occasionally you will come across a more interesting character, such as Charles the helpful monkey, and the terrified inhabitants of the Village of Civilisation. There are also occasional moments of humour which betray the writers' real selves (self-referentialism, anyone?) One interesting aspect of the game is that Tombi himself never actually speaks, the other characters presumably supplying his part of the dialogue in their own imagination. The issue is never addressed; you just accept it. This is an interesting device, which was ruined in the sequel by that annoying fly thing. (You can tell I hadn't played many RPGs, can't you? I was still right about the annoying fly thing, though.)
The gameplay usually feels reasonably well-balanced and fair, and there are few points where it becomes frustrating. I would say that the windy mountainous area can become irritating, as you can spend a lot of time falling to your death after misjudging some of the monstrous gaps. This is linked in with probably the game's greatest flaw - lives. I would have preferred it if, like the sequel, there was not a lives system. To play for hours only to come up against a Game Over screen seems harsh, and as everyone will then load their saved game rather than start all over again, it's somewhat redundant. (Some people might prefer to be able to save at any time, but you should find that a save point is never far away.) That said, there are plenty of extra lives scattered about, and after a short while spent being especially careful, it ceases to be an issue.
Control: The control system is not a problem to master. There are separate buttons for attacking, speaking and jumping, and items are accessed through a menu system. Many areas have a foreground and a background, which are navigated by jumping up and down suitable walls. It's also possible to alter the camera angle with the shoulder buttons, but not particularly necessary. The control system is explained as you play, particularly when you learn new moves (such as the indispensible Animal Dash.) In short, the control system is easy to get to grips with, and using advanced items such as the grappling hook becomes second nature within minutes.
Graphics: The sprites in this game are as amusing and cartoony as any you could hope to see. Tombi has that vague Japanese look about him, whilst the pigs are almost reminiscent of Porky himself. The landscapes are three dimensional, and although they're not what I'd call spectacular, they serve a purpose. Far prettier are the occasional 2D areas where you wander around isometrically (that is to say, the villages.) They remind you how great it would be if anyone still dared to make 2D games. There is a small amount of FMV tacked onto the beginning and end of the game. It would perhaps have been nice to see the entire game in 2D, but it seems either memory restrictions or contemporary values stopped this from happening.
Sound: The effects are reasonably generic, but fun. The thwack as Tombi grabs onto a wall is quite satisfying. Speech is represented by a vague chattering sound. The in-game music is jaunty and fitting, and never grated on my nerves. However, the best sound in the entire game must be the burst of music when an event is solved, which is so satisfying it's unreal. You will find yourself gesticulating in triumph.
Conclusion: Tombi is that rare thing in this age; an interesting game. And by what may or may not be a coincidence, it is also a ridiculously enjoyable game. It is, perhaps, a little easy, but I still went back to it again and again. Buy it if you can find it, which may be difficult, as it doesn't conform to the modern market's blinkered idea of what makes a game worth marketing.
(Looking back: I agree with this one most of the three. The world is a richer place for having this game in it.)
Sentient
The oh-so-cleverly-named space station Icarus is in a steadily declining orbit round a distant sun. Tensions are rife within the station. Radiation sickness abounds, the captain is dead, and mutiny is just an ill-timed comment away. You are a medic dispatched to the station to help out, and guess what? Your ship has crashed in the landing bay, leaving no way back out. Thus, you're stuck in this hell-hole amongst manic scientists, resentful engineers, confused medics and soulless security guards, none of whom trust you in the slightest. Here you must run spurious errands, ask risky questions, and ultimately try to figure out who to save and how. Unfortunately, in this stifling climate it's every man for himself...
Gameplay: Sentient is unlike any game I've ever played. It's an adventure game, but not like you've seen them done before. It boasts a highly detailed character interaction system. When talking to someone, you are not restriced to three or four preset sentences. You construct statements and questions through a detailed (and, necessarily, long-winded) menu system. If you want to ask a medic what he thinks of his boss, you're free to do so. If you want to tell an engineer that your medical scanner is broken, go right ahead. (Whether they'll care to give you the answers you're looking for is a different matter, of course.) This system is fun to play with, and it's impressive to watch non-player characters indulging in idle gossip in the corridors, and to realise that they're all having these conversations even when you're not there.
You begin to realise why saved games take up six blocks when you observe your colleagues' feats of memory. Ask someone what they're doing, and a well-crafted reply will result. Tell someone your name, and they will stop calling you 'Medic' all the time. Repeatedly insult someone, and you certainly get the impression you're going down in their estimation. On the other hand, the system is often more complicated than the game can handle. For example, the snippets of gossip you hear are all prescripted and have no bearing on people's alleged opinions. Gekkle Malichek and Dania Luvey are supposed to be bitter rivals, but if you ask them, they exhibit indifference towards one another. And while you do get the impression of a fully working space station, it is somewhat depressing when you realise that most of it is completely irrelevant. There are hundreds of rooms in the game, and yet you only need to visit a handful of them. The more you play, the more you realise that the scope of the engine is brought crashing down by the limitations of the plot.
Adventure game it may be, but don't expect anything as forgiving as, say, Monkey Island. Near the start of the game, the chief of medical staff asks you to fetch a report and bring it to you. The first time I played it, I forgot where she said she was going, failed to find anyone who knew, and subsequently wandered around the deck aimlessly until the station plummeted into the sun. Be aware that if you're not in the right place at the right time, you'll be cut out of the loop. This is realistic, but at times it can be too demanding. You are, after all, only human. It takes a while to get the hang of navigating your way around the station, and sweet-talking people into helping you to find things.
Say the right things to the right people, and you find yourself moving through the plot. It seems linear at first, and indeed it is for the first half of the game. However, from there on in the game branches quite impressively, and it's up to you which story elements to chase. It's an interesting game to play, but a sometimes unfairly challenging one. Some quite spectacular leaps of the imagination are required to negotiate certain problems, and sometimes the complex speech system can make it more difficult to find the right statement. But who cares? Most of the fun is in meeting people in the corridors and asking them intrusive questions.
Control: The controls are simple enough to get to grips with. As mentioned before, the conversation menus are cumbersome by their very nature, but you'll be chattering like a prole withing minutes. The only thing that bothered me was that nobody told me how to use the teleporter. Just so that you never have to suffer like I did, I'll tell you: you press X, use the up and down buttons to select a deck, and press X again...
Graphics: Ah, now here's where you shouldn't get your hopes up. Sentient was released in the early days of the PlayStation, and thus has that old game look. In fact, it's worse than that. The corridors and rooms look bland and depressing (just about acceptable withing the confines of the plot, I suppose) and the objects are blocky and simplistic. And then there's the people. Ahem. I won't skirt around the issue. The people in this game are ugly. More than that, they're actually scary. It's hard to define what exactly is wrong with them, but it seems to me that there's not enough of a gap between the outer boundaries of their faces and the edges of their heads. It doesn't even seem to be a hardware issue, as they look exactly the same in FMVs. You get the vague impression you must be wandering around some sort of specialist hospital. What's even more terrifying is that I began to get used to them after a while... There is one massive benefit to the grotesque characters, however. You can recognise them. Easily. There are dozens of people on the station, and you really do start to remember their names.
Sound: Well, there's no speech, save for in a few mediocre FMVs. It wouldn't have been possible to have in-game speech that didn't sound absurd. Don't expect much by way of music, either. The most you're getting is some background noies and an occasional sound effect, I'm afraid. And your footsteps.
Plot: I certainly liked the plot set-up, which made for a tense setting for the game. It proceeds quite well up to a point, but I found it got weaker towards the end. I won't spoil the story, but I was disappointed by the pretentiously ethereal turn it started to take. I much preferred the earlier angle, which concentrated on the suspicions and resentment between the four departments on the station. The other quibble I have relates to the endings, of which there are several. The problem is that each one left me feeling vaguely unfulfilled. There is no ending that makes you think "yes, I've won!" The feeling is always more one of "oh, that was a little abrupt. Perhaps I should have done it a different way." Whilst this feeling spurs you onward to find a better ending, you do eventually get the impression that there isn't one.
Still, it's good while it lasts, and there are some interesting characters, especially the department heads. I particularly liked the visiting ambassador, an angry coward who refuses to travel without his gang of moronic bodyguards (think Quina Quen.) It's the little touches that make the game so endearing. Just listen to Seral Camik berating officer Voosto, or Holman Azirra's demented ramblings.
Conclusion: Judging from the review thus far, you could be forgiven for thinking that I don't really like Sentient. Now, don't get me wrong on this one. Yes, the game is at times unfair. Yes, the plot deteriorates right up to the end, and yes, the game is too small for the programming. But the fact remains that it is unlike any other game I have ever played, and I was at all times impressed by its vision. Perhaps the game could be done better with today's next-next-generation technology, but I doubt anyone will ever try. Thus, Sentient will remain the monarch of its little sub-genre, and to me it was worth it for that alone.
Pros: A unique experience.
Cons: The plot becomes absurd. Just doesn't quite work, in practice.
Rating: Just that little bit too ambitious. Still worth it for the spectacle.
(Looking back: God, I was generous with this one. Sentient is not a good game by any stretch of the imagination. I just have this fascination for failed experiments. Better to suffer from too many ideas than too few, but it still doesn't work as a game.)
Vib-ribbon
The premise of Vib-ribbon is simplistic enough. Vibri the wireframe rabbit runs along a line, jumping over obstacles. That's it. A friend of mine interpreted this scenario as a metaphor for constant tedium and anguish, but I mention this only as an indication of how messed-up in the head my friends are. There are four base objects for Vibri to navigate, and she must also contend with four combination objects. There is no deep and meaningful dialogue, and there are no intriguing plot twists. Still, The Phantom Menace did okay, didn't it?
Gameplay: The gameplay is in the same vein of Parappa the Rapper, but more entertaining. Jump the obstacles and Vibri gains points. Fail, and she will become more and more wobbly, before eventually being reduced to a frog, a worm, and then nothing. Clear many obstacles in a row to evolve back up, eventually becoming Super-Vibri! Clearing the obstacles is merely a matter of timing, and anyone reasonably adept with a joypad will sail through the first two levels with ease. Of course, once combination objects appear, things get more complicated. Of course you merely have to press two of the four buttons - but which two? Then the obstacles start coming thick and fast, drifting around one another, turning upside down, and generally making you feel suspicious about whatever you last ate. However, I take no issue with the learning curve; I found it to be spot on. After a while, recognising the shapes becomes a matter of instinct, not thought.
With only three levels on the disc, you could be forgiven for thinking that Vib-ribbon is a short game. You'd still be woefully incorrect, though. The game is actually infinite in length, as you can switch to any of your own audio CD's (or games with audio tracks) and play levels generated from those instead. This feature is where Vib-ribbon comes into its own. Different music gives different games. Simplistic beats give evenly spaced obstacles, while more complex songs set the shapes twirling upside down and moving about again. Some music renders the game fiendishly difficult, but I have never once felt annoyed with it. The mere sight of that funky rabbit playing dead before leaping to her feet with a smile is enough to spur me on to try again!
Control: The controls are so simplistic that I can explain them right here, redundant though it may be. L1 for blocks, down for pits, R1 for loops and X for zig-zags. For combinations, press two buttons at once. (I won't give examples; I've insulted your intelligence enough.) The control system is easy to grasp, but of course missing a complicated obstacle can reduce the strongest constitution to thrashing wildly at whichever buttons come to hand, flailing like an idiot. This is why the game should be played in mixed company.
Graphics: Some people, no doubt, when presented with Vib-ribbon, will complain that the graphics are 2D. At which point I will scream "They're not 2D, moron!" before slamming their faces repeatedly into a hard, flat surface. Vibri and her environment are in fact rendered in black and white wireframe graphics. This adds to the game's charm. I would never have paid it any attention in the first place had my attention not been caught by the line-clad rabbit prancing about in circles on a screen in the shop. Vib-ribbon is testament to the clichéd-but-true fact that graphics do not a good game make. In any case, wireframe animals are great.
Sound: Of course, due to the very nature of the game, you can have any music you want in the background. But that aside, the provided soundtrack (by Laugh And Beats) (It's Laugh And Peace, actually. It's still ace, though.) is fabulous. I challenge anybody to listen to it and not smile. The Japanese have a wonderful way with lyrics, and I readily confess to having listened to the music in its own right on several occasions. Anyone who doesn't like it should be violently cheered up by a mob of drunken morons shouting "Cheer up mate, it might never happen!"
I should also make reference to the voice of Vibri herself, as it is absolutely incredible. It's a synthesised squeaky chatter, and reduced my friends and myself to helpless hysterics upon first hearing it. Also, the voice has not been translated, so you may pick up a rudimentary grasp of Japanese. If you can make out a word she's saying, that is.
Conclusion: Simply put, Vib-ribbon is one of the best games ever. It's a pure example of gameplay over everything else (which may account for its non-release in America.) I urge everyone to go and buy it. Import it, if necessary. I'm sure having to guess what the menu options mean merely enhances the whole experience. Put it on your present list, found a religion, and announce a festival of plenty, just so you can get it more quickly.
Pros: Constant fun. Good music. Vibri is great. Unlimited possibilities.
Cons: A little trial and error can be necessary to find a track of appropriate difficulty level. You are, of course, limited to your own music library.
Rating: If Vibri were to jump with enthusiasm to a height proportional to how great this game is, she'd now be bouncing higher than a cheque for thirty billion quid signed by Swampy.
(Looking back: Whilst I would still argue that Vib-ribbon is a great game, I have to admit the novelty wore off sooner rather than later. I still have the soundtrack on my MP3 player, though.)
Tombi
Tombi (or Tomba, if you happen to live in the wrong place) is a funky pink-haired dude. He lives in the magical world of the adventure game, where the paths are deceptively straight and the people all mill around waiting to be asked questions. However, the equilibrium of the land has been shattered by malevolent porcine invaders. Well... to be honest... evil pigs. Yes. Now why did nobody ever think of that one before?
Tombi's a tad upset, as these pigs have stolen his gold bracelet. It has sentimental value (being a man of the wilderness, Tombi's not particularly materialistic) and so he sets out to recover it. His adventure will take him through the village to meet the hundred year old man, who will send him to the village of the dwarves, whhere the Dwarf Elder has a quest for Tombi to complete before they can tell him the secret of how to go about destroying the evil pigs... and that's where the playable demo ended, so I went went and got a hold of the full game.
Gameplay: Tombi may have 3D aspects, but it's clear where its roots lie. A good old 2D platformer! The little guy leaps and bounds his way around the areas, capturing the pigs, avoiding bottomless pits and collecting fruit. It's a familiar set-up, and it's still great. The game also has RPG/adventure elements. Tombi must collect items and use them to complete various quests. Not all of them are necessary to complete the game, but you find yourself wanting to achieve as much as possible. In villages, you wander around talking to the locals, who may give you useful information and new quests. Your ultimate goal is to destroy the evil pigs. But you'll be running around the various different areas for a long while before you can get close to achieving that task.
The game takes place on quite a large map, with several diverse zones, ranging from overgrown rainforests to cursed villages. You will meet various people on your travels - dwarves, thieves, mice and the like. Also, there are the ever present wise old men, whose ages become increasingly ludicrous (the hundred year old man is by far the youngest...) Occasionally you will come across a more interesting character, such as Charles the helpful monkey, and the terrified inhabitants of the Village of Civilisation. There are also occasional moments of humour which betray the writers' real selves (self-referentialism, anyone?) One interesting aspect of the game is that Tombi himself never actually speaks, the other characters presumably supplying his part of the dialogue in their own imagination. The issue is never addressed; you just accept it. This is an interesting device, which was ruined in the sequel by that annoying fly thing. (You can tell I hadn't played many RPGs, can't you? I was still right about the annoying fly thing, though.)
The gameplay usually feels reasonably well-balanced and fair, and there are few points where it becomes frustrating. I would say that the windy mountainous area can become irritating, as you can spend a lot of time falling to your death after misjudging some of the monstrous gaps. This is linked in with probably the game's greatest flaw - lives. I would have preferred it if, like the sequel, there was not a lives system. To play for hours only to come up against a Game Over screen seems harsh, and as everyone will then load their saved game rather than start all over again, it's somewhat redundant. (Some people might prefer to be able to save at any time, but you should find that a save point is never far away.) That said, there are plenty of extra lives scattered about, and after a short while spent being especially careful, it ceases to be an issue.
Control: The control system is not a problem to master. There are separate buttons for attacking, speaking and jumping, and items are accessed through a menu system. Many areas have a foreground and a background, which are navigated by jumping up and down suitable walls. It's also possible to alter the camera angle with the shoulder buttons, but not particularly necessary. The control system is explained as you play, particularly when you learn new moves (such as the indispensible Animal Dash.) In short, the control system is easy to get to grips with, and using advanced items such as the grappling hook becomes second nature within minutes.
Graphics: The sprites in this game are as amusing and cartoony as any you could hope to see. Tombi has that vague Japanese look about him, whilst the pigs are almost reminiscent of Porky himself. The landscapes are three dimensional, and although they're not what I'd call spectacular, they serve a purpose. Far prettier are the occasional 2D areas where you wander around isometrically (that is to say, the villages.) They remind you how great it would be if anyone still dared to make 2D games. There is a small amount of FMV tacked onto the beginning and end of the game. It would perhaps have been nice to see the entire game in 2D, but it seems either memory restrictions or contemporary values stopped this from happening.
Sound: The effects are reasonably generic, but fun. The thwack as Tombi grabs onto a wall is quite satisfying. Speech is represented by a vague chattering sound. The in-game music is jaunty and fitting, and never grated on my nerves. However, the best sound in the entire game must be the burst of music when an event is solved, which is so satisfying it's unreal. You will find yourself gesticulating in triumph.
Conclusion: Tombi is that rare thing in this age; an interesting game. And by what may or may not be a coincidence, it is also a ridiculously enjoyable game. It is, perhaps, a little easy, but I still went back to it again and again. Buy it if you can find it, which may be difficult, as it doesn't conform to the modern market's blinkered idea of what makes a game worth marketing.
(Looking back: I agree with this one most of the three. The world is a richer place for having this game in it.)
Sentient
The oh-so-cleverly-named space station Icarus is in a steadily declining orbit round a distant sun. Tensions are rife within the station. Radiation sickness abounds, the captain is dead, and mutiny is just an ill-timed comment away. You are a medic dispatched to the station to help out, and guess what? Your ship has crashed in the landing bay, leaving no way back out. Thus, you're stuck in this hell-hole amongst manic scientists, resentful engineers, confused medics and soulless security guards, none of whom trust you in the slightest. Here you must run spurious errands, ask risky questions, and ultimately try to figure out who to save and how. Unfortunately, in this stifling climate it's every man for himself...
Gameplay: Sentient is unlike any game I've ever played. It's an adventure game, but not like you've seen them done before. It boasts a highly detailed character interaction system. When talking to someone, you are not restriced to three or four preset sentences. You construct statements and questions through a detailed (and, necessarily, long-winded) menu system. If you want to ask a medic what he thinks of his boss, you're free to do so. If you want to tell an engineer that your medical scanner is broken, go right ahead. (Whether they'll care to give you the answers you're looking for is a different matter, of course.) This system is fun to play with, and it's impressive to watch non-player characters indulging in idle gossip in the corridors, and to realise that they're all having these conversations even when you're not there.
You begin to realise why saved games take up six blocks when you observe your colleagues' feats of memory. Ask someone what they're doing, and a well-crafted reply will result. Tell someone your name, and they will stop calling you 'Medic' all the time. Repeatedly insult someone, and you certainly get the impression you're going down in their estimation. On the other hand, the system is often more complicated than the game can handle. For example, the snippets of gossip you hear are all prescripted and have no bearing on people's alleged opinions. Gekkle Malichek and Dania Luvey are supposed to be bitter rivals, but if you ask them, they exhibit indifference towards one another. And while you do get the impression of a fully working space station, it is somewhat depressing when you realise that most of it is completely irrelevant. There are hundreds of rooms in the game, and yet you only need to visit a handful of them. The more you play, the more you realise that the scope of the engine is brought crashing down by the limitations of the plot.
Adventure game it may be, but don't expect anything as forgiving as, say, Monkey Island. Near the start of the game, the chief of medical staff asks you to fetch a report and bring it to you. The first time I played it, I forgot where she said she was going, failed to find anyone who knew, and subsequently wandered around the deck aimlessly until the station plummeted into the sun. Be aware that if you're not in the right place at the right time, you'll be cut out of the loop. This is realistic, but at times it can be too demanding. You are, after all, only human. It takes a while to get the hang of navigating your way around the station, and sweet-talking people into helping you to find things.
Say the right things to the right people, and you find yourself moving through the plot. It seems linear at first, and indeed it is for the first half of the game. However, from there on in the game branches quite impressively, and it's up to you which story elements to chase. It's an interesting game to play, but a sometimes unfairly challenging one. Some quite spectacular leaps of the imagination are required to negotiate certain problems, and sometimes the complex speech system can make it more difficult to find the right statement. But who cares? Most of the fun is in meeting people in the corridors and asking them intrusive questions.
Control: The controls are simple enough to get to grips with. As mentioned before, the conversation menus are cumbersome by their very nature, but you'll be chattering like a prole withing minutes. The only thing that bothered me was that nobody told me how to use the teleporter. Just so that you never have to suffer like I did, I'll tell you: you press X, use the up and down buttons to select a deck, and press X again...
Graphics: Ah, now here's where you shouldn't get your hopes up. Sentient was released in the early days of the PlayStation, and thus has that old game look. In fact, it's worse than that. The corridors and rooms look bland and depressing (just about acceptable withing the confines of the plot, I suppose) and the objects are blocky and simplistic. And then there's the people. Ahem. I won't skirt around the issue. The people in this game are ugly. More than that, they're actually scary. It's hard to define what exactly is wrong with them, but it seems to me that there's not enough of a gap between the outer boundaries of their faces and the edges of their heads. It doesn't even seem to be a hardware issue, as they look exactly the same in FMVs. You get the vague impression you must be wandering around some sort of specialist hospital. What's even more terrifying is that I began to get used to them after a while... There is one massive benefit to the grotesque characters, however. You can recognise them. Easily. There are dozens of people on the station, and you really do start to remember their names.
Sound: Well, there's no speech, save for in a few mediocre FMVs. It wouldn't have been possible to have in-game speech that didn't sound absurd. Don't expect much by way of music, either. The most you're getting is some background noies and an occasional sound effect, I'm afraid. And your footsteps.
Plot: I certainly liked the plot set-up, which made for a tense setting for the game. It proceeds quite well up to a point, but I found it got weaker towards the end. I won't spoil the story, but I was disappointed by the pretentiously ethereal turn it started to take. I much preferred the earlier angle, which concentrated on the suspicions and resentment between the four departments on the station. The other quibble I have relates to the endings, of which there are several. The problem is that each one left me feeling vaguely unfulfilled. There is no ending that makes you think "yes, I've won!" The feeling is always more one of "oh, that was a little abrupt. Perhaps I should have done it a different way." Whilst this feeling spurs you onward to find a better ending, you do eventually get the impression that there isn't one.
Still, it's good while it lasts, and there are some interesting characters, especially the department heads. I particularly liked the visiting ambassador, an angry coward who refuses to travel without his gang of moronic bodyguards (think Quina Quen.) It's the little touches that make the game so endearing. Just listen to Seral Camik berating officer Voosto, or Holman Azirra's demented ramblings.
Conclusion: Judging from the review thus far, you could be forgiven for thinking that I don't really like Sentient. Now, don't get me wrong on this one. Yes, the game is at times unfair. Yes, the plot deteriorates right up to the end, and yes, the game is too small for the programming. But the fact remains that it is unlike any other game I have ever played, and I was at all times impressed by its vision. Perhaps the game could be done better with today's next-next-generation technology, but I doubt anyone will ever try. Thus, Sentient will remain the monarch of its little sub-genre, and to me it was worth it for that alone.
Pros: A unique experience.
Cons: The plot becomes absurd. Just doesn't quite work, in practice.
Rating: Just that little bit too ambitious. Still worth it for the spectacle.
(Looking back: God, I was generous with this one. Sentient is not a good game by any stretch of the imagination. I just have this fascination for failed experiments. Better to suffer from too many ideas than too few, but it still doesn't work as a game.)
posted by Solid Jim at 11:52 PM
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