Erika Lynn Adams
Contact me!
  • Home
  • The Tale Collector's Blog
    • Books, Graphic Novels, and Other Works of Literature
    • Movies, Short Films, and Other Works of Cinema
    • Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
    • TV Shows, Web Series, and Other Narrative Programs
    • Music, Bands, and Other Creations of Sound
    • Adaptations, Retellings, and Old Tales in New Light
  • Interviews, Readings, and More!
  • News (Updated 11/9/25)
  • Biography

Small Cups in Hot Water

9/3/2023

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Picture
#74 - Cuphead
2017, E10+
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of two mischievous brothers who must fight for their souls after losing one too many rounds to the Devil himself.
(9/1/23)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
Being born in 1986, I of course never got to experience the Golden Age of animation firsthand. But that’s not to say my exposure to pre-60’s American cartoons was lacking. I still can’t listen to the over-the-top donkey bray coming out of Donald Duck’s busted accordion in the 1942 Disney short, Symphony Hour, without laughing my head off. And then there was my motley assortment of compilation VHS tapes, featuring some of my favorite Looney Tunes, Merry Melodies, and Noveltoons shorts like “Fresh Hare,” “The Daffy Duckaroo,” “A Self-Made Mongrel,” “Land of the Lost Jewels,” and “The Wee Men.” Not to mention all the help the Disney movie memories would be at beating my family at Disney Trivia! 😊 Similarly cherishing such fond memories are two brothers who created two brothers of their own as a tribute not only to their favorite childhood cartoons, but to one of the most important eras in the history of animation.
 
On the affable animated archipelago known as Inkwell Isle live two mischievous brothers, the impetuous Cuphead and more cautious Mugman. One day, against the many warnings of their grandfatherly guardian, Elder Kettle, the boys venture to the literal wrong side of the tracks to try their luck at the Devil’s Casino. But their fun at the craps table, under the sleazy eye of the smooth-talking manager King Dice, quickly goes to heck in a hand basket when the satanic owner himself arrives to raise the stakes: one roll, his loot or the boys’ souls, winner takes all. With more gold than sense on his milk-filled mind, Cuphead recklessly goes all in—only for the dice to land on the dreaded “snake eyes.” When the terrified brothers plead for mercy, the sly Devil makes them a deal: he will spare them if they collect and bring him the souls of those who also owe him. But the offbeat inhabitants of Inkwell Isle aren’t going to pay their own hellish debts without a fight, and so the plucky porcelain pair will have to hand out the wallop of their lives if they want their collectees to hand over their goods.
 
I gotta say, I think Mugman—the other half in this co-op game—got cheated when it came to the title. And that also goes for the Netflix adaptation, The Cuphead Show! I mean, Super Mario Bros. at least implies the presence of Luigi. Oh, well. A retro-style run-and-gun platformer with heavy emphasis on boss fights, Cuphead—subtitled Don’t Deal With the Devil--is the debut of indie developer Studio MDHR, the four letters coming from the last name of the main creative duo, brothers Chad and Jared Moldenhauer. The fact that the plot begins with a huge bet is interesting to say the least considering that the two both mortgaged their homes in order to finance the creation of the game. (If that’s not a gamble, I don’t know what is.) Needless to say, it paid off in spades.
 
Of course, the game’s real eye-opener is its aesthetic, inspired by the goofy, energetic, and beautifully weird rubber hose cartoons of the 1930’s, namely those of Walt Disney and Max Fleischer, as well as Warner Bros., MGM, and Walter Lantz. Gamers versed in such animation can spot the tributes to many timeless characters among the colorful cast. Heads aside, Cuphead and Mugman are virtually identical to the immortal Mickey Mouse, from the black arms and torsos to the white gloves and colored shorts. (Though ironically, their drinking utensil design was taken from a teacup-headed character in a very bizarre 1936 Japanese propaganda cartoon featuring an evil Mickey Mouse.) Some boss examples: Wally Warbles, a giant bird who wears a birdhouse like a turtle shell, and his son, Willy, each sport the red-feathered head and bonkers personality of Woody Woodpecker; Beppi the Clown mimics the surreal flexibility of Koko the Clown; the Medusian sea monster, Cala Maria, with her personality befitting a sexy siren, is an homage to the queen of classic cartoons, Betty Boop; and the oafish, black-haired Captain Brineybeard is a dead ringer for Popeye’s bully of a nemesis, Bluto. And whenever the player selects a level, up pops a title card, complete with a copyright year in Roman numerals (MCMXXX, or 1930), and an MDHR credit stamp at the bottom. See if you can guess the forms and fighting moves of these bosses based on their hilariously alliterative names above the pun-filled titles, indicating them as the stars of their respective “shows:”
 
- The Root Pack in “Botanic Panic”
- Hilda Berg in “Threatenin’ Zeppelin”
- Baroness Von Bon Bon in “Sugarland Shimmy”
- Grim Matchstick in “Fiery Frolic”
- Sally Stageplay in “Dramatic Fanatic”
 
But the game’s artistry doesn’t stop there. The Moldenhauers’ strive for a temporally authentic gaming experience was such that they even applied many of the same exact techniques—imperfections and all—used by animators of the 1930’s. Every one of the game’s 45,000+ frames were hand-drawn and inked with specialized nib pens, and various postprocessing effects and filters were utilized to create that old-time grainy and scratchy appearance. As an added bonus, upon completing certain optional tasks, players can unlock black-and-white and two-strip (Technicolor) modes for an even more vintage look. And while the Disney Snow White-inspired water-colored backgrounds are indeed a wonder, even more impressive are the 3D model backgrounds made via Fleischer’s Stereoptical “Setback” camera system, the same system that helped make shorts like 1936’s Popeye the Sailor Meets Sinbad the Sailor so iconic. And if that wasn’t dedicated enough, just listen to the soundtrack. The brothers recruited not only the jolly vocals of professional barbershop quartet, Shoptimus Prime (and bonus points for the name, gentlemen), but also Toronto composer Kristofer Maddigan along with a live band specializing in prominent 30’s genres like jazz, big band, and ragtime, each finger-snappin,’ toe-tappin’ tune sure to bring out every player’s inner hep cat.
 
And yet in spite of all this creative effort, I think Cuphead is much easier to admire when it’s not being played. What do I mean by that? This game is hard. REALLY hard. In accordance with old cartoon logic, everything, including objects, is alive; thus, everything is out to kill you. And they will. A lot. Moreover, the Moldenhauers modeled many of the mechanics and features after those of their favorite retro video games—many of which, like Contra, are among the most difficult ever made. Even most other boss-heavy games like Shadow of the Colossus offer some moments to breathe and take in the environment while you’re fighting for your life. Between the already berserk visuals and the chaotic projectiles—coming both from you and at you— covering almost the entire screen, to the point where a second player’s presence can actually hinder more than help, all I can say is, thank heaven this is not a button-masher, because your fingers, along with the death animations stating just how close you were to beating that boss which, by the way, has no visible heath bar, are going to hurt enough.
 
That said, many of us go into our video games wanting to be bombarded with lots of noise and lots of color as well as lots of challenge. And besides, it’s not like we ever questioned the logic of our favorite Saturday morning cartoons, or many of our favorite games, for that matter. Cuphead is one of those rare experiences in which it’s a good thing that the plot takes a backseat to the candy-coated visuals and bonkers imagination. More to the point, it’s a virtual, playable love letter to both animation history and the unabashed joys of childhood, and all that other jazz.
 
CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
 
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” - Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Hot Dawg!” - Alex Nelson

https://www.facebook.com/alex.j.nelson.7
All other music and sound clips are from Cuphead (directed by Chad and Jared Moldenhauer; developed and published by Studio MDHR).

OST SONGS:
“Don’t Deal With the Devil”
“Introduction”
“Inkwell Isle One”
“Clipjoint Calamity”
“Forest Follies”
“All Bets Are Off”
“Victory Tune”
 
All other music and sound clips are from Cuphead (directed by Chad and Jared Moldenhauer; developed and published by Studio MDHR).

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Cuphead on Wikipedia

Cuphead's Official Website

Cuphead on IMDb

Cuphead on Metacritic

Cuphead on Common Sense Media

Cuphead on Tv Tropes

Buy and Play Cuphead on Steam

Cuphead on Nintendo

Cuphead on PlayStation Network

Cuphead at GameStop

Cuphead on Amazon

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Hollow Hive Mind

7/2/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
#61 - INSIDE
2016, M FOR MATURE
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a boy who must navigate his way through a horrifying mind-control research facility.
(7/2/21)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH TOWARD A CHILD. READER/RESEARCHER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

In his most famous novel, The Alchemist, Paulo Choelho gave this quote through his title character:

“Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.”

So what does such a philosophical statement have to do an indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world? Well, I’ll tell you. I was motivated to buy an XBOX 360 for the sole purpose of playing LIMBO, another indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world, the first by the Danish independent developer Playdead and one of my all-time favorite games. As fate would have it—and I swear I absolutely did not plan this—, it was Playdead’s second game which prompted me to open up a Steam account so that I could play it on my PC without paying an arm and a leg. Of course, I’ve purchased and played many more excellent games on both systems since then. But I can’t help but smile when I wonder: if and when Playdead releases their third game (in development as of 2017), will I go three-for-three, buy and play it first on yet another system? Only time will tell. But until then, that second game will certainly tide me over, just as LIMBO did before it.

There is no life in the forest. Still leaves litter the ground like corpses; sickly streaks of sunlight bring no warmth to the cold, grey air; and even the wind seems reluctant to disturb the eerie silence. All of a sudden, something rustles from atop a lonely crag. A figure drops to the ground: a boy in a red shirt. He races through the woods, whether from danger or towards salvation, he does not say. But he is not as alone as he first appears. Men with riffles and dogs stand watch, ready to hunt the boy down should he be spotted. He soon discovers they are part of an organization which performs dangerous mind-control experiments, reducing their human guinea pigs to zombified automatons devoid of all will and identity. Having now found himself in the heart of their hellish facility, the boy must uncover the purpose of these insane experiments while surviving murderous watchmen, vicious traps, and emotionless scientists, lest he and his own mind become their next research specimens.

It’s near impossible to discuss this game without comparing it to its predecessor, but considering how good the latter turned out—and how the former improved on its format—, I’m not complaining in the slightest. True, certain core details are identical. A small child finds himself in a hostile and frightening world, alone and pursued by enemies for reasons the player and possibly the protagonist himself don’t know. Once again, the narrative is learned only through play: there is no dialogue or text to give context to the game’s setting, a purpose for the boy being there in the first place, or motives for the enemies so dead set on capturing or killing him. Controls are simplified to move, jump, and interact (holding, pushing and pulling, etc.) And just as the LIMBO boy had his face hidden in black silhouette, save for his bright white eyes, the INSIDE boy has no face at all, an artistic detail that just as strongly adds to the mystery of his identity and backstory. The death traps are just as plentiful and gruesome this time around, and oftentimes, unfortunately, must be experienced firsthand in order for players to understand what not to do in order to progress—and survive.

So much for the superficial similarities. INSIDE could easily be nicknamed LIMBO 2.0, but it is no clone by any stretch. To begin with, rather than monochrome shadow puppet visuals in 2D, this side scroller is in 2.5D with color, putting every physical, unnerving detail on full display. Whereas his LIMBO counterpart was like a paper doll in both appearance and motion, the INSIDE boy looks and feels much more natural, from the way he stumbles while running from an enemy, to the way he doubles over and pants heavily from exhaustion after swimming for his life. (That’s a new feature, too, not drowning the instant his head is submerged.) The aforementioned color is very muted and washed-out to maintain the bleak atmosphere; even the boy’s distinctive red shirt barely stands out as more than a dirty brown-hued grey in areas not brightly lit. But that doesn’t make his myriad death scenes any less horrifying, whether he’s being mauled by savage dogs, shot or strangled by guards, tased by robots, or drowned by the black-haired, Ring-esque nymph-like creature haunting the facility’s watery depths.

A fun fact regarding returning composer Martin Stig Andersen’s approach to INSIDE’s eerie sounds. Rather than a traditional soundtrack, Andersen instead created the game’s ambient music—as sparse as that of LIMBO--by filtering his score through a human skull. Yes, a real human skull! The resulting vibrations serve a dual purpose. The low and somber chords linger oppressively, as if to smother the boy’s hope of respite. At the same time, they complement the artificiality of this dystopian world while emphasizing its sheer monstrousness; they don’t accompany the technological environment so much as merge with it, creating an unseen but very much live entity in which the boy is little more than a fragile, flesh-and-bone insect. One particular musical portion intrigued me. Recall, all you LIMBO players, the sequence in which the white-eyed, shadow-clad boy must make his way past laser-activated machine guns. The music played then is arguably, and rather ironically, the most relaxing and peaceful in the whole game. In fact, the piece has since been unofficially titled by fans, “Machine Gun Tranquility.” Andersen does something similar in the latter half of one of the most infamous and lethal sections of INSIDE. Here, the boy finds himself within a massive atrium in which an unseen device in the distance sends out powerful shock waves which will blast him apart if he is unshielded. In a strangely beautiful juxtaposition, we hear another ambient piece that flows with a calm, dreamlike, and I daresay even uplifting serenity, as if to mock the boy with a false sense of security, while lying in wait to strike when he is at his most exposed.

Speaking of bringing life from the dead, LIMBO briefly touched upon the idea of mind control in the form of the “brain slugs” which would latch onto the boy’s head and negate the player’s ability to move freely. INSIDE takes this to a much more sinister level. Despite the futuristic setting, the mindless drones of this game are much more reminiscent of the zombies of old. The original zombie of Haitian lore, though also a walking corpse, was not a flesh-craving monster spawned from pathogens or radioactivity, but instead a docile human shell reanimated via voodoo for the express purpose of slavery, requiring little nourishment and no rest or compensation. The INSIDE zombies are just as harmless and resilient, but also as creepy, with their slumped posture, sloppy gait, and monotonous grunting. As cruel as it seems, the boy must use these unfortunate creatures to progress via a mind-control helmet. While he wears it, the player may control one or multiple test subjects to help the boy move heavier objects or toss him to higher areas. We never learn how this fate had befallen them, nor whether they’re even aware of what’s happened to them, but the disturbing results speak for themselves. They are puppets of flesh that exist only to do the bidding of another, nothing more.

In this world I think George Orwell would appreciate, the choice of making the humans’ faces literally blank is as disquietingly symbolic as it is fascinating. It suggests that the boy and the test subjects are little more than objects to be owned and manipulated rather than living, breathing human beings to be loved and respected. As for the scientists and the apparent ruling class that oversees the experiments—all of whom are seen wearing face-concealing masks—, it indicates a severe lack of empathy and a cold, calculating mentality toward their fellow man. And get this: in some shots, they even have children and babies (also masked) among their ranks, a subtle but brilliantly evil touch.

A lack of information does not equal a lack in personal connection, a lesson Playdead once again teaches us in spades. INSIDE is more than a worthy successor to another acclaimed title and a smooth and polished game in its own right. It utilizes and embodies many, if not all, of the best aspects of the horror genre: beautifully eerie visuals; a relentlessly dark atmosphere; a reliance on slow, lingering dread rather than cheap jump scares; a twist ending I can guarantee you will not see coming; and best of all, a wordless and ambiguous narrative that stirs the imagination, revealing only just enough to fuel discussion as to the meaning behind this game’s mysterious world. Not to mention that grim, all-consuming question of just how much control the player has over their own destiny . . . assuming they even have control over their own actions—or their very selves—to begin with.

CREDITS:
​Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Mind Meld” - composed by Briand Morrison, arranged by Erika Lynn Adams
All other music and sound clips are from INSIDE (directed by Arnt Jensen; developed and published by Playdead).

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

INSIDE on Wikipedia

Playdead on Wikipedia

Playdead's Official Website

INSIDE on Steam

INSIDE on PlayStation Network

INSIDE at the App Store

INSIDE at GameStop

INSIDE on Amazon

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Shadow Play

11/6/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
#57 - Contrast
2013, T For Teen
Gather round and I'll tell you the tale of a resourceful little girl's imaginary friend who moves through the shadows - literally.
(11/6/20)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
There is a natural phenomenon, the captivation of which even the most enlightened human beings share to this day with their cave-dwelling ancestors. It is as common and elusive as the wind and as frightening and mysterious as a nightmare. Yet it is also as comforting as a lullaby, as enticing as a lover’s kiss, and as unique and enchanting as our dreams: the shadow. For centuries, shadows have been a source of inspiration for a variety of intellectual endeavors and cultural traditions, like photography, astronomy, mythology, even heraldry. Far from being simply a shape of blocked light on a solid surface, shadows have often been said to be living entities in their own right—as good, evil, and everything in between as our flesh-and-blood selves. And what better place for shadows to live, to truly live, than in the City of Light—in game form?

Didi loves nothing more than to watch her mother, rising jazz singer Kat, perform at the local cabarets; not always easy for a little girl ordered to stay safe and sound in her bedroom. Luckily, she has the assistance of Dawn, her imaginary best friend with the appearance of a gorgeous acrobat and the ability to transform herself into a shadow. But now, the precocious nine-year-old has a new reason to brave the dark city streets and play spy in the middle of the night. Her father, Johnny, has a dangerous habit of getting in over his head in his money-making schemes, inviting trouble from the law and risking the wrath of the mafia. This has prompted Kat to kick him out of her life for the sake of her career and the safety of their daughter. But Didi firmly believes in his sincere goal of redeeming himself in her mother’s eyes. When his latest enterprise—a full-fledged circus with the Amazing Vincenzo as the headliner—threatens to become his most devastating failure yet, Dawn must use her shadow-shifting skills to help and protect her adventurous young charge as she strives to ensure the circus’s success and bring her broken family back together.

I’m just going to get this out of the way right now: this is not a perfect game—and by “perfect," I mean, “polished.” Depending on which reviewer you’re listening to and/or the system they’re playing on, you’ll get a whole laundry list of technical and design criticisms: “Three to four hours is too short,” “Moving boxes is boring,” “The controls are too frustrating,” “The game lags too much,” etc. I am sorry to say that these complaints aren’t entirely unwarranted; as a matter of fact, I experienced a game-breaking bug myself on my very first play-through. On the final puzzle—yeah, of course it had to be the final puzzle—, the game refused to compute my solution and trigger the next cutscene, so I was forced to restart at my last save and re-solve the previous three or so puzzles all over again before the last one would work and I could watch my reward for playing. Yeah, it may have been only just one time, but still. Ugh.

(The lights on the circus stage explode and fizzle out.)
KAT: (Angrily.) I knew it! I knew this was another one of Johnny’s pipe dreams! You screwed up again, didn’t you?
CARMINE: Johnny, what’s going on? Is this part of the show?
JOHNNY: (Flustered.) I got it, I got it!
CARMINE: (Aggravated.) They’re getting antsy. They’re gonna want their money back!
SALVIO: (In a threatening tone.) If you give them their money back . . . you can’t pay us.
JOHNNY: (Frantically.) It’s all under control! I just gotta . . . Go find a spare bulb . . . fuse . . . something.
DIDI: (Frustratedly to Dawn.) Why can’t he get anything right? (Starts running.) We’re gonna have to fix this one too!

All that being said, I personally and respectfully disagree that these apparent flaws hinder if not ruin the entire experience. I actually consider these minor inconveniences in the face of everything else that Contrast has to offer. It’s not often that both 2-D and 3-D platforming are featured in the same game, let alone in such a clever and attractive way. The latter is done by Dawn as a realistically-detailed “human being” able to move in all directions in the “real world;” for the former, she is a black silhouette able to leap onto other shadows on any flat, vertical surface to get Didi and herself (the player) to areas that would otherwise be unreachable. The game takes place entirely at night, illumination coming mainly from artificial sources like electric lamps and stage lights, creating shadows in abundance. Even so, Dawn will often need to create her own, such as when the environments are too dark or the shadows are too small or in the wrong place. The player can do this by using glowing orbs called luminaries to power various light-making machines and/or moving 3-dimentional objects and adjusting the scope and position of their shadows in order to form make-shift “staircases” and “bridges.”

DIDI: - (Looking down from the roof to the ash cart below.) I know. You can go down there, and move the ash cart. And I could jump down! I’ll put the light here . . . so . . . you can go over there . . . and be a . . . shadow person!
- (Pointing up to a balcony.) I think that goes all the way through to the other street. If I move this cart . . . you could walk up its shadow. Couldn’t you?
- (Sees the cinema at the other side of the chasm, a dark, broken billboard bridging the gap.) Oh no! There’s no way to get across! (Sits forlorn for a moment before jumping back up with an idea.) I know! If we could get this spotlight working, then I could track you with it. But, it’s out of power . . . we need some luminaries. Do you have any?

But this shadow-walking isn’t exclusive to inanimate objects; with the exceptions of Dawn and Didi, every character in the game is depicted only in shadow themselves. While leaping from one silhouette to another, the player is treated to their owners acting out their respective soap operas, oblivious to Dawn’s presence. This not only merges gameplay and cut scene together in a creatively entertaining piece of game design, it enhances the sensuality and authenticates the intrigue of the magically surreal setting of 1920’s Vaudeville-era Paris, the smoky, sultry phantoms brimming with that intoxicating air of dangerous romance and heart-wrenching drama, forever “shadowed” by their forbidden desires and haunted by memories of a long-faded past.

Kat’s Song

You went and left me.
But you,
Never really leave me.
No matter what I do.
I don’t mind when I dream,
But I’ve been scalded by steam
But I try not to dream about you.

You say you’re sorry
But you’re never really sorry
Wish I could fall for someone new
Wouldn't mind if I dream
But I drowned in a stream
But I try not to dream about you

The game’s title literally refers to the principle in art which deals with the striking visual differences between two elements, particularly color and brightness. As such, this concept permeates not only the look and feel of Contrast, but its very universe as a whole. Down the street you’ll see cabarets and bars with names like “Pompeii,” “Gold Mine,” and “Ghost Note.”

KAT: (Seductively to the player.) Wanna put on some lights? I promise you’ll like the view . . . [. . .] C’mon sugar . . . help girl out here. We can’t play in the dark. [. . .] (A stage light bulb bursts.) Uh, hey—one’s on the fritz. Hey Sparky, could ya do something about that one too? It’s really messin’ with our rhythm.

In Johnny’s circus, “Chiaroscuro,” an Italian art term referring to lights and shadows, is the name of the shadow puppet theater whose playable fractured fairy tale performance almost shamelessly recreates the monochrome style and gameplay elements of Limbo—right down to its giant spider!

JOHNNY: (Narrating as Dawn [as the fairy tale princess] runs from the spider.) Suddenly, a giant spider jumped out of the shadows and attacked her! She ran and climbed, and jumped and climbed. But the giant spider was very good at climbing too. It had eight legs, and the Princess only had two!

And then, there’s Dawn herself, whose name epitomizes the natural shift from the dark of night to the light of day.

DIDI: (To Dawn.) I wanna be a dancer when I grow up. Or an acrobat, like you. Did you always want to be an acrobat? You’re so good! You should be in the circus. Too bad nobody can see you.

This aesthetic ties in beautifully with the game’s film noir atmosphere. Speaking of film noir: as a wonderful nod to all the cinephiles out there, the game is peppered with numerous references and homages to the Golden Age of Hollywood. In the cinema lobby are life-size models of movie icons like the silent film vampire Count Orlock from 1922's Nosferatu, and the tap-dancing, top-hat-toting Harry Raymond from the 1930 musical, Puttin’ On the Ritz. But the most prominent is the immortal 1942 romantic drama, Casablanca. Many of the game’s chapter titles borrow heavily from the film’s treasure trove of quotes and their thematic significance: “Of all the gin joints . . .”, “The problems of three little people”, “The beginning of a beautiful friendship”, and “We’ll always have Paris”, just to name a few. There’s also one from another famous Humphrey Bogart film from 1940, The Maltese Falcon: “The stuff that dreams are made of”.

KAT: (Wearily.) Why’d you have to come back, Johnny?
JOHNNY: (Sad and just as weary.) I want to come home, Kat.
KAT: And you got another pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?
JOHNNY: That’s the past, Kat, I’ve changed.
KAT: (Sarcastically.) Oh, yeah? You get religion?
JOHNNY: I got lonely. I miss you, baby. I’m never gonna give you another reason to kick me out, I swear.
KAT: (Unconvinced.) Never’s a big word. Feels like I heard it before.
JOHNNY: (Earnestly.) This time you’re gonna be nothing but proud of me. Look at this hotel suite! I got investors!
KAT: (Incredulous.) The ones who just left? Yeah, I’m real proud. They the ones who broke your finger?
JOHNNY: (Dismissive.) This? It’s nothing. I got it caught in a desk drawer. (Immediately backtracks.) In a door—a car door.

[. . .]

JOHNNY: You don’t believe a word you’re saying. I know, ‘cause I can read your mind like a highway sign.
KAT: No, Johnny. Not again. (Anger creeping in.) You’re a carousel of broken dreams. You keep coming around and around.
JOHNNY: (Solemnly.) No one is ever gonna love you like I do, kiddo.

And at the heart of all this is the story of a little girl who just wants her family to be at peace again. Besides being a stunning style choice in accordance to the time period, I think the fact that every adult is portrayed as a shadow plays another significant role. Only broad shapes, voices, and actions give players insight on the characters’ looks and personalities, but collectables hidden throughout, like posters, photographs, letters, and newspaper articles, offer valuable clues to their histories and motivations. For all their outward toughness, Didi’s parents lack confidence in themselves and their future, while Didi has no doubt that they belong together and will do anything to make that dream come true. It could be argued, therefore, that the adults’ shadow selves are their fear, ambiguity, and vagueness made manifest, while Didi’s substance comes from her courage and perseverance.

DIDI: Mommy. Are you going to let Daddy come home?
KAT: Didi.
DIDI: (Pleading.) Please? Please let Daddy come home . . . ?
KAT: (Struggling to be reasonable.) He’s in pretty deep with some bad people, Didi. Maybe he should make good with them first. Right, Johnny?
JOHNNY: (Shrugs helplessly.) Maybe I’m no good without my family. (Takes Kat into his arms.) Maybe I need my family to make good.
KAT: Johnny . . .
DIDI: (Confidently.) Yeah! Daddy needs us!
KAT: (Serious.) If this is another train wreck, it’s not just gonna be you in the train this time.
JOHNNY: (Sincere.) I’m not gonna let it wreck this time. I promise.
KAT: (Fully embraces Johnny.) I missed you so much.
DIDI: (Overjoyed.) Yay! Daddy’s coming home!

Moreover, the fact that we see this plot unfold through youthful eyes suggests that the world we are playing through represents Didi’s struggle to understand the harsher reality of adulthood. And perhaps Dawn’s own substance is a testament to the younger girl’s need for an older figure to rely on and talk to. Dawn herself is completely silent, but her loyalty speaks volumes, like that of a protective big sister who lovingly endures every childish scolding and keeps every precious secret safe.

Now, on top of its apparent technical flaws, one could certainly argue that Contrast’s more mature elements of marital disputes and gangster violence aren’t treated very realistically and, as such, the game’s plot wraps up a bit too nicely and neatly. But then again, isn’t that why we love our Hollywood classics as well as our video games in the first place, because they and their own shadows and illusions help us escape reality for a time? Contrast may be more style than substance in more ways than one, but its highly unique gameplay mechanics, whimsical yet luscious visuals, and engaging, heartfelt story give that very style a substance all its own.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Noir 4 Course” - The Curellis

https://www.facebook.com/JakeSearlMusic
All other music and sound clips are from Contrast (developed by Compulsion Games; published by Focus Home Interactive).

OST SONGS:
“Kat’s Song (ft. Laura Ellis)”
“Carousel”

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Contrast on Wikipedia

Contrast 's Official Website

Contrast on Compulsion Games's Official Website

Contrast on IMDb

Contrast on Metacritic

Contrast on Common Sense Media

Contrast on Tv Tropes

Contrast on Steam

Contrast on PlayStation Network

Contrast on Microsoft

Contrast at GameStop

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Equal in All Conquests

4/5/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
#46 - Outland
2011, E 10+
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a reincarnated warrior called upon to face the wrath of deities consumed by madness.
(4/5/19)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
After receiving a PlayStation 2 for my 16th birthday in 2002, it would be almost another decade before I’d add another game console to my collection. When LIMBO arrived in 2010 for the XBOX 360, I was dying to play, but I was afraid I’d never get the chance. It wasn’t a lack of money and time that stopped me. No. It was the fact that the game was to be released as a download rather than a physical disk. And so, fears of viruses and privacy breaches kept me away from a fascinatingly dark gaming experience for a long time. In the end, it was a Microsoft Triple Pack featuring LIMBO that put my mind at ease. But then, this epic beauty came along. And of course, a disk version wouldn’t be available in the States. But with a bit of research and some kind help of a Gamestop employee, I was finally able to conquer my fear and successfully download the game. Although, I still do prefer game codes over credit cards for purchasing. Hey, can’t be too careful, right?

An ordinary man from a tribe deep within a flourishing jungle finds himself plagued by devastating visions of the past. Medicine does him no good, so at last, in desperation, he seeks the aid of the paal kaaba, a wise shaman. The shaman tells him of the Sisters of Chaos, twin goddesses—one the essence of the Sun’s light, the other the force of the Moon’s darkness—who sought to destroy the world they themselves helped to create. 30,000 thousand years ago, a powerful warrior faced the Sisters in battle; he ultimately perished, but not before imprisoning them in order to protect the world from their madness. According to the shaman, the man is the reincarnation of that ancient hero. The visions are a warning from the warrior’s spirit: the Sisters have broken free and are bent on carrying out their apocalyptic destruction once again. Endowed with the same powers of light and darkness wielded by both his ancestor and Chaos themselves, the man must make his way to the Temple of Eternity and stop the Sisters before their insanity wipes out all life from existence.

With the exception of Shadow of the Colossus, I think this is the most visually stunning game of the action-adventure genre that I’ve ever played. But unlike Shadow, with its comparatively washed-out hues, Outland derives its much of its splendor from its vibrant color palate. The art design reminds me of the Tron films, except the industrial techno city is now a lush, untamed terrain in which ancient ruins reminiscent of Aztec art hide within gnarled trees and twisted vines. Both the land marks and the characters are black silhouettes against a backdrop awash in color, though the latter’s features are more defined by the bright colors lining their otherwise shadowed forms, like elaborate, full-body LED tattoos. Outland has often been compared to the 2001 2D shooter, Ikaruga, in which the player must switch between two color polarities in order to fight ships and giant mechas of the opposite color and stay immune to attacks of the same color. Likewise, besides weapons and abilities one might expect to see in a traditional hack-and-slash game – a sword to slice enemies, sliding and stomping to stun and break barriers, etc. – the player in Outland must utilize the powers of light and darkness, represented by blue and red, respectively, also to fight enemies and resist attacks according to their own color. Not only is blue and red an attractive combination to the eye, but enemy projectiles are often displayed in flowing, elegantly symmetrical patterns, making for spectacles as dazzling to players as they are dangerous. However, the polarity mechanic featured here may be identical to that of Ikaruga, but I think Outland‘s use of it is a lot more thematically significant. Every facet, from the levels to the environments to the bosses, is designed so that it’s impossible to complete the game without the use of both powers. In a superb example of the video game concept “mechanics as metaphor”, it dispenses with the tired goodness-of-light-conquering-the-evil-darkness cliché and instead illustrates and focuses on natural balance. Just as no one color or polarity is any stronger or better than the other in the game, nature itself is also neutral, as capable of ugliness, pain, and death as it is of beauty, healing, and life:

SHAMAN: There is balance in all things. Light and Darkness helped make the world, and their touch is present in everything. One cannot use only the Light without denying half of all that is. And so the Hero learned to accept the power of Darkness – which was not evil, for there is evil in the brightness of the noonday sun – and to use it as a shield against Moon’s own creations.

Within the four environments the player must traverse – the Jungle, the Underground, the City, and the Sky – a variety of deadly creatures lie in wait: giant spiders, man-eating serpents, mummified soldiers, flying electric jellyfish, exploding armadillos (for whatever reason), and of course, the wrathful protectors of the world that have succumbed to corruption. After a protector has been defeated, we hear the tragic backstory of its fall from grace, each one mentally scarred by the Sisters’ defeat and imprisonment, leaving them destructive shadows of their former glorious selves. All this and more we learn through the narration of the shaman himself. The only voice-acting role in the entire game, the shaman is played by Andrew Chaikin, also known as famed throat singer and beatboxer, Kid Beyond. Here, his voice is low and worn, with a deep, husky tone, giving it an aged quality that perfectly conjures the image of a wise old man handing down the ancient stories and teachings to future generations so that they will not be lost:

SHAMAN: And so the warrior, the man of two souls, reached the gates of the Temple of Eternity. This was a place outside the world, where the Sisters had dwelt since their imprisonment by the gods. Here they had waited, timeless, for the chance to escape and unmake reality, so they might create it endlessly anew. Here now, their fate would be decided by the actions of a lone hero.

And a game this epic wouldn’t be complete without music to match. The soundtrack of Outland was made by Finnish game composer and musician, Ari Pulkkinen. Listening to the “Main Theme” at the title screen is like opening a book or taking a seat before a storyteller; underneath the soft, smooth notes and tranquil tempo lies the promise of new beginnings, for the first time . . . or yet again. “The Cursed Forest” evokes a lingering sense of danger; invisible but ominous, much like the beasts before they attack at the first sign of weakness. “Return to Holy Mountain”, as its name implies, has a calm, sacred air about it, as if to speak over it would be sacrilege. And during boss battles we hear a rousing piece that sings of destiny and the ever fierce will to live, even in the face of impossible odds and impending doom, hence the title, “The End of All Things”.

This couldn’t be more different in tone from Pulkkinen’s most famous contribution to video game music: the original theme song to Angry Birds. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve been so surprised – and impressed – by an artist’s creative diversity since I found out that the author of God Bless the Gargoyles, a gentle and moving picture book featuring lonely stone gargoyles being comforted by kind angels, is the very same mastermind behind the gross and wacky Captain Underpants. But I digress. Taking inspiration in part from the original Fallout games and the films The Passion of the Christ and Apocalypto, Pulkkinen weaves together the sounds of ethnic instruments and strong percussion to create ambient styles as wide-ranging and powerful as the warring emotions within the heart that struggles to survive in such a remote and savage world.

With its smooth and responsive controls, awesome abilities, and plenty of enemy variety and action, Outland is an immensely satisfying “bullet hell” platformer to play. But just as important, if not more, its gorgeous visuals, enthralling narrative, and imaginative mechanics all together help to create a true interactive gem, in more ways than one. Like the best games – and stories – out there, this is an experience that plays exactly how and what it advocates: timelessness and balance.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONGS:
“Battle For Eternity” - George Ellsworth

https://www.facebook.com/GeorgeLEllsworth
All other music and sound clips are from Outland (developed by Housemarque; published by Ubisoft)

OST SONGS:
“Main Theme”
“The Cursed Forest”
“Return to Holy Mountain”
“The End of All Things”

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Outland on Wikipedia

Outland on Housemarque's Offical Website

Outland on Ubisoft's Official Website

Outland on IMDb

Outland on Metacritic

Outland on Common Sense Media

Outland on Tv Tropes

Outland on PlayStation Network

Outland on Microsoft/XBOX

Outland on Amazon

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Hot Shot Flyer

3/31/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Picture
#39 - Spyro the Dragon
1998, E For Everyone
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a lively and rebellious young dragon who must save his elders from a disgruntled monster and his magical minions.
(9/7/18)

The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
As much as I absolutely adored my Gameboy as a kid, I often found myself wishing for a home video game console. I was especially envious of my older cousins, who seemed to own every major Sega and Nintendo system under the sun at the time: Game Boy, Game Gear, NES, SNES, Genesis, N64, Saturn, you name it. But that all changed on Christmas Day, 1997, when my wish was granted in the form of a PlayStation. My eleven-year-old self rejoiced! :D We started out with Frogger and a few demo discs, but in time we would come to expand and personalize our game collection. About a year later, for the combined birthdays of my step-siblings and me, we each received our first personal PlayStation games. For my sports-loving stepbrother, Cool Boarders 2. For my lovably quirky stepsister, Crash Bandicoot: Warped. And for me? A game which not only featured my favorite mythical creature, but ultimately of one of the first games in my life of which I would truly feel like a master.

The Dragon Kingdom has long been a place of beauty and prosperity. Comprising it are five worlds, each one ruled by a family of dragons. With their own unique talents and gifts, each family protects the kingdom and lives in peaceful harmony with one another. The only blemish in this paradise is a sixth world ruled by Gnasty Gnorc, a repugnant, ill-tempered creature with a bad habit of dabbling in forbidden magic. Still, all goes well, until one rather arrogant dragon makes the foolish mistake of mocking Gnasty during a live T.V. interview, which, unfortunately, the latter just happens to be watching. In a fit of rage, the half-gnome/half-orc casts a magic spell to imprison all of the dragons inside crystal statues! What’s worse, not only does he steal and enchant the dragons’ gemstones, transforming them into his own personal soldiers and monsters, but he also invites thieves bent on stealing the dragons’ precious eggs! Little does Gnasty realize, however, that he hasn’t quite ensnared all of the dragons like he first thought. Spyro, the youngest, most mischievous dragon of all, is missed by the crystallization curse due to his small stature—as well as his playing hooky at the time. Now the only unfrozen dragon left, and joined by his best friend, Sparx the Dragonfly, Spyro sets out to free his elders and recover their treasure and their eggs before Gnasty and his armies take over the Dragon Kingdom forever.

With the exceptions of Pokemon Red and Blue, which I played avidly for several years, I’ve always preferred single-player platformers over larger role-playing games because I find them more straightforward and less overwhelming. That it was so approachable for me as a player was the first thing I grew to love about Spyro.

Spyro comes equipped with three primary abilities: fire-breathing (naturally!) and charging, for attacking enemies or barriers specific to each, and gliding for reaching areas too far for jumping. In addition, there is the Super Charge: running along specialized ramps with glowing arrows increases Spyro’s speed, giving him brief invincibility through a more powerful charge attack, as well as a huge boost in gliding distance. Plus, there are special levels in which Spyro can actually fly. Although, these function more like bonus rounds than levels in that they must be completed perfectly before a timer runs out. I think the decision to have Spyro fly only periodically is a good one because it keeps the game from becoming too easy and the pleasure of flight from becoming stale.

Spyro also has allies to aid him as well. There are the balloonists who transport Spyro from world to world after he accomplishes certain tasks. Though why their dialogue is presented through text boxes and not voices while everyone else talks, I don’t know. There are also the fairies, providing the game’s save options at the dragons’ crystal platforms; keeping Spyro from falling when his glides fail; or even literally fueling his flames with invincibility with a fairy kiss. ;)

But his greatest ally—and the cleverest game mechanic—is Sparx, who isn’t just a piece of wordplay on the term “dragon” (though I do think that is a cool idea). Sparx not only picks up nearby gems and other items that Spyro might miss, but he himself also acts as the player’s health meter. Through him, Spyro is able to take four hits before dying. At full health, Sparx shines a glittering gold; after one hit, his color dims into a flickering light blue; two hits, he is a dull, plain green; three hits, he disappears completely, leaving Spyro undefended from a final blow. Even now, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an innovative health mechanic in a video game before. Not only does this rid the screen of the otherwise boring and intrusive health bar, it creatively demonstrates Sparx’s magical nature and his loyalty to his friend without him uttering a single word—aside from the occasional buzz or two.

Sparx can regain energy by eating butterflies, which appear whenever Spyro flames or charges smaller animals, like sheep, chickens, frogs, mice, or bats. A rather arbitrary design choice, but a fun one nonetheless, regardless of whether you actually need the butterflies or not.

Much of this game’s appeal comes exploring all the vastly different worlds and their levels. There are six levels scattered throughout each world, accessible via magical portals. The environments range from bright and cheerful, to dark and spooky, to strange and mysterious, and the dragons who inhabit them all reflect the nature of their respective cultures with their own unique designs and personalities, and vice versa. Also fleshing out these personal and geographical identities is the soundtrack. Former Police drummer, Stewart Copeland, composed the game’s music with a progressive-rock flare, utilizing synthesized guitar, sports organ, and rock drums. These songs are not only catchy as heck, they present players with a sense of contemporary action and fun, matching the spirit of the characters without sacrificing or clashing with the overall game’s signature fantasy vibe. There are:

- The Artisans, prim and proper dragons of culture and creative expression who come together in the lush, sunny valleys and rolling hillsides to share their artistic ideas and innovations

- The Peace Keepers, a race of warriors and battle strategists residing in dry deserts, rocky canyons, and icy caves, and whose brute strength is matched only by their unshakable sense of honor

- The Magic Crafters, wise and solitary guardians of all things mystical, who make their homes within the high, distant mountaintops in order to practice their art in peace

- The Beast Makers, genial swamp-, jungle-, and forest-dwellers who use plants and other earth materials to shape new creatures into being and maintain the natural order of life

- The Dream Weavers: soft-spoken, wistful, and whose minds remain ever literally and figuratively in the clouds, and who are responsible for providing their fellow dragons with pleasant dreams and restful nights

It is impressive how much insight we get into the characters of Spyro and the other dragons through cut scenes lasting a mere twenty seconds or less. Upon being freed, most dragons will offer the player hints and tips for progressing through the game. But it’s fine even if they don’t, because in fact, the real treat comes from seeing what exactly they’re going to do when they’re revealed—and Spyro’s reaction to it. In essence, Spyro is a kid, acting exactly how many kids do when surrounded by caring, albeit often silly adults. That’s not to say the older dragons are depicted as dumb compared to Spyro, nor does he ever act at all mean-spirited toward them. Their interactions with each other are humorously indicative of how some kids, while they may love their family, don’t always know how to respond to some of the random or outdated things they may do or say. Most of the elders are wise, stern and/or cautious, reminding Spyro to stay focused on his mission, like Nestor:

- NESTOR: Thank you for releasing me, Spyro. Free ten dragons in the Artisan world, then find the balloonist. He’ll transport you to the next world.
SPYRO: (Determined): What about Gnasty Gnorc? I’m going after him!
NESTOR: (Shaking a firm claw at him): Find dragons first! That’s all I can tell you.

Others can be a bit vain, especially regarding their own physical appearance or prowess, like Gavin:

GAVIN: Watch the dragonfly, Spyro. His color indicates his power. When he eats butterflies, he stays strong, (proudly) like me.
SPYRO: (Slowly as he rolls his eyes): Uh . . . sure.

Some are tempted to ramble on and on or start off a long and boring speech, like Astor:

ASTOR: After you’ve freed all the dragons, (frowns as he thinks) pass through this fancy vortex—uh, thing-a-ma-jigger. It’ll take you back to the Artisan home. But first, let me tell you a story . . .
SPYRO: (Quickly.) No thanks! See ya!

And there are some that are a wee bit overenthusiastic, like the Bubba:

BUBBA: I’ll tell you what to do with those creatures. (Loudly, stomping his feet) Smash them, Spyro! Stamp them out and squish them and squash them, ha ha ha!
SPYRO: (Awkwardly.) Uh-ha, how about, charge them and flame them? We are dragons, after all.

But the funniest are the ones that are forgetful, if not totally senile, like Altair. (I swear, this one cut scene alone just cracks me up every single time!):

ALTAIR: Thanks for releasing me, Spyro. You have no idea how long I've been trapped in crystal. And, uh . . . neither do I. (Suddenly confused.) Who are you again?
SPYRO: (Awkwardly.) Um . . . I’m outta here!

Then there are the monsters that try to hinder Spyro, though “hinder” might be a strong word. As the game progresses, they only get creatively funnier and funnier-looking, not to mention dumber, but I mean that in a good way. Among others, there are jerk shepherds and witch doctors who whack you over the head with their staffs; armor-wearing savages who charge at you only to head straight off a cliff if they miss; feather-brained wizards who literally run around in circles in panic if you catch them; and cannon-crazed soldiers who taunt the player with “mooning.” No. Seriously!

While the Playstation brand never established an official mascot the way Nintendo and Sega did, Spyro was a very close contender for the title. Such has been the funny, colorful, imaginative, nostalgic, kid/adult-friendly popularity of Spyro the Dragon. His name lives on through numerous sequels, reboots, and spinoffs, some better than others, but his very first adventure will always have a special place in my heart, as I first played it during a time when the sky really did feel like the limit.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Funky Tiger” - The Curellis

https://www.facebook.com/JakeSearlMusic
All other music and sound clips are from Spyro the Dragon (developed by Insomniac Games; published by Sony Computer Entertainment).

OST SONGS:
- “Artisans Homeworld”
- “Peace Keepers Homeworld”
- “Magic Crafters Homeworld”
- “Beast Makers Homeworld”
- “Dream Weavers Homeworld”

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Spyro the Dragon on Wikipedia

Insomniac Games on Wikipedia

Spyro the Dragon Official Website

Spyro the Dragon on Fandom

Spyro the Dragon on Tv Tropes

Spyro the Dragon on Amazon

Spyro the Dragon on eBay

​^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Not About the Destination

3/30/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Picture
#26 - Journey
2012, E For Everyone
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a mysterious robed figure’s beautiful, perilous, and ultimately illuminating pilgrimage toward a sunlit mountaintop.
(8/4/17)

The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
My family and I once went to a public summer barbecue, where I was introduced to a couple who are close friends of my parents. I also met their son, who’s about my age. We were quick to learn our mutual love of video games, and it wasn’t long before were planning game nights at each other’s houses, immersing ourselves in various virtual worlds while feasting on tacos and cookies. He was the one who introduced me to the scientific and hilarious world of the Portal series, and it was such a treat for me to introduce him to the beautifully grim domain that is LIMBO. Great times. One of the best, though, came from a game that neither of us had played up to that point. I was dying to try it, I told him, but I had no PlayStation 3; he had not heard of the game, but he had a Playstation 3. A short time afterward, to my delighted surprise, he informed me that he had purchased the game, played it, and loved it. And getting the chance to play it myself, especially with him, a friend still dear to me to this day, went far beyond my expectations.

In an unknown part of the world, a vast desert stretches for miles; glittering sands, relentless winds, and a blazing sun a testament to its unforgiving beauty. As a light like a shooting star, blinding even in the daylight, sails across the sky, a lone figure kneels in the sand as if in meditation. Covered in a robe of rich, dark copper lined in intricate golden symbols, their identity, ethnicity, and even gender are a mystery, their face shrouded in darkness save for the band of gold that circles their head and their eyes that shine like twin diamonds. Erected atop the sand dune just beyond them are tall stone structures, attached to which are long cloths that wave and snap in the wind like flags. The intrigued figure arises and trudges upward through the sand towards the stones. Upon reaching the top of the dune, an awesome sight greets the figure: just visible in the far, far distance, a titanic mountain stands, its peak rimmed with the sun’s radiant glow as if it were the home of a divine being. Thus begins the pilgrim’s trek toward the mountain to learn what awaits there, but not before they witness many splendors and dangers, as well as the mysterious past of those who came—and lived—in times long ago.

It’s no secret that the creation of video games often has more of a focus on gameplay and mechanics and are made according to budget and industry statistics. This, unfortunately, tends to come at the cost of meaningful storytelling, or at least decent characterization and plot development. thatgamecompany, the indie developer behind Journey, was founded with the intention of changing that. Similarly to games like LIMBO, this game takes the “less is more” approach, doing away with written and spoken dialogue and explicit direction, and relying instead on a meticulous crafting of symbolic minimalism to enrich the gameplay experience.

First off, the scenery is some of the most absolutely gorgeous you will ever see in a video game: from the sands glittering in the sunlight and rippling like silk with the traveler’s movements, to the monumental ruins ever standing with quiet dignity against the elements. The attention given to the environmental and aesthetic detail is phenomenal—literally any screen shot in the game could be named a work of art, to be admired and speculated upon. As a matter of fact, had Journey been released in time, it would have been included in The Art of Video Games exhibition for the Smithsonian American Art Museum. But its visual beauty runs so much more deeply than that: it—along with the camera often being panned out away from, rather than zoomed in on, the player—is a brilliant reminder of our inherent smallness and mortality in this vast world, the beauties, hazards, and enigmas of which most of us can only imagine. Hidden throughout these harsh surroundings are mysterious murals and alter-like structures, through which we are able to see the divine white-robed beings who act as teacher and guide to the protagonist. It is through them that we are offered glimpses into the past via living hieroglyphics of a people very much like our traveler, a glorious civilization that once thrived even in such a barren place.

Likewise, the sounds and the gameplay are designed to transcend beyond the basic moving from one point to another. The soundtrack, filled with gentle flutes and calming strings—especially the cello—isn’t exquisitely poignant only to the ear. Students of media may recognize that many of the songs are named after stages of the Hero’s Journey, a narrative pattern coined by famed mythologist Joseph Campbell in his book, The Hero With a Thousand Faces; in very broad terms, it is the plot template in which a hero embarks on an adventure, faces a crisis of some kind, emerges victorious, and returns home with new wisdom to be used for the benefit of others. Unfortunately, to go over how the stages relate directly to the game would be giving away huge spoilers, but for anyone interested in a brief but still thought-provoking explanation, the Youtube series Extra Credits has done a 2-part episode on the subject, also called “The Hero’s Journey.” Going back to the music: for example, “The Call” is named after the stage “The Call to Adventure”, whereby something new or unusual happens to the hero that requires him to leave his home and embark on his quest; “Threshold” comes from “Crossing the First Threshold”, in which the hero—however reluctantly—finally steps out of his old world into the realm of the unknown, and now there is no going back; “The Road of Trials”, like its title implies, describes how the hero must undertake tests and ordeals in order to complete his task and/or survive his adventure; and “Apotheosis” is the state of transcendence, where the hero surpasses the inner or outer limitations that held him back before and is now a perfected being with the power to achieve so much more than ever before.

Also a joy to witness are player’s abilities. The traveler is endowed with a beautiful scarf that enables flight. It starts off short, but grows longer as more magic is collected via glowing sigils. The longer and more magically charged the scarf, the farther and longer you are able to fly, allowing for more exploration and viewing of the mesmerizing landscape. The traveler’s other power is the ability to emit a sort of musical “chime”. This allows more than just interaction for the sake of progression. More to the point of the game, it’s the player’s primary form of communication. Among the first beings you encounter are strange sentient strips of cloth the same design as the traveler’s scarf. As friendly as they are stunning, there are many types of these cloth creatures to be found throughout the ruins of this world. Animalistic in their sounds and behavior, the smallest and most basic in shape may fly together in flocks or simply glide where they please, warbling and trilling like birds, while other more elaborately shaped ones may float and ripple like jelly fish, or soar with the gentle majesty of whales. These creatures not only assist the traveler by recharging the magic scarf, but they help to alleviate the solitude and loneliness of the player’s passage.

And speaking of making new friends . . . Online, a player may meet another player—another traveler—in real time. They are completely free to choose whether to continue the trek together, or to leave each other to do as they see fit. But the online gameplay of Journey offers something particularly special. In virtually any multiplayer game one can name, players are able and even required to speak with one another, whether verbally or in writing, and players’ avatars are distinguished by their names, appearances, attacks, abilities, and personalities, all of which on display for everyone to see. There is none of that to be found here. Staying true to the universality the character design is meant to represent, players have no indication as to who the people behind the avatars are: no user names, no chatting, no screen text, interacting only with their “chime”—and it works. Because of this lack of obvious outward differences, there is little to no foundation for creating potential biases toward other players. True story: I met a fellow traveler during my very first playthrough of Journey and we ended up finishing the rest of the game together; I still know nothing about this other player in real life and I still felt like we truly bonded. During my second playthrough, however, I wasn’t online, and I was surprised to find that the absence of other travelers actually made me feel lonely.

According to designer Matthew Nava, in his preface of The Art of Journey:

“Something that I really like about Journey is that it never says anything to the player explicitly. There are no words explaining this history we created, or even dialogue revealing the character’s thoughts throughout the narrative. This was a way for us to make the game accessible to a wider audience, letting it cross cultural barriers created by language. [. . .] I think it is that sense of personal connection that makes Journey powerful. In a market dominated by multiplayer games that revolve around killing one another, Journey’s mechanics are designed from the ground up to bring out the player’s good side, and encourages players—even strangers—to be friends.” (Pg. 9)

While this is certainly not the first video game to be considered a work of art, if one considers previously released games like Silent Hill 2, Ōkami, Shadow of the Colossus, and Bioshock, the visuals alone aren’t what make Journey a masterpiece to behold and to experience. The beauty of Journey is that it is intended to elicit emotional responses from players and touch them on a deeper and more spiritual level. Though not without an in-game end goal to strive for, it emphasizes personal connections and a sense of wonder rather than competition, giving resplendently new meaning to the term “interactive.”
​
CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Quietude in G” - The Curellis

https://www.facebook.com/JakeSearlMusic
All other music and sound clips are sampled from Journey (directed by Jenova Chen; developed by Thatgamecompany and Santa Monica Studio; published by Sony Computer Entertainment and Annapurna Interactive).

OST SONGS:
“The Call”
“Threshold”
“The Road of Trials”
“Apotheosis”

Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Journey on Wikipedia

Thatgamecompany on Wikipedia

Journey on Thatgamecompany's Official Website

Journey on Fandom

Journey's Grammy Nomination!

Journey on PlayStation Network

Journey: Collector's Edition at GameStop

Journey Digital Code at GameStop

Journey: Collector's Edition on Amazon

Journey Digital Code on Amazon

The Art of Journey on Amazon

Journey Original Soundtrack on Amazon

Journey on eBay

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Junk Stars

3/29/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
#21 - Katamari
2004-Present, E For Everyone
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of an alien prince who must use a magically sticky ball to restore a darkened and broken universe to its former glory.
(3/3/17)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
This may come as no surprise, but I was one of the many kids in the late 90’s and early 2000’s that faithfully watched the Cartoon Network block known as Toonami. Some of my fondest childhood memories include the times my sister and I would come home after school and immerse ourselves in the action and humor of such classic anime as Voltron, Sailor Moon, Yu Yu Hakusho, Tenchi Muyo!, and, of course, the Dragonball franchise. Another reason I enjoyed the block is that sometimes, in between shows and commercials, Toonami would show a quick review of a newly-released video game. That is how I found this game, and I think I can honestly say that it is one of the few that I’ve bought almost completely blind. The T.V. review gave an extremely brief synopsis and showed less than a minute’s worth of footage. But aside from the bright colors, random visuals, and downright weird gameplay, I was thinking: Cutest. Main character. EVAR.

The main collection is comprised of six games, plus some spin-offs, but I will be referring to just the first two since they were the ones I grew up with. The word Katamari translates in English to “mass”, “cluster”, or “clump”; the first game, Katamari Damacy, roughly means “clump of souls”. Why? It all begins when the King of All Cosmos has a little too much fun one night. His mind swimming in a drunken stupor as he soars with unabashed glee across the sky, he crashes into and knocks out every star in the universe as if they were lightbulbs! On top of that, he even obliterates the moon! After finally sobering up and seeing the colossal mess he’s made, the King vows to take responsibility for his actions . . . by charging his son, the Prince, to fix the problem. As the Prince, the player is ordered to take a highly adhesive ball called a Katamari down to Earth and roll up literally every single thing that he can find until the Katamari is one giant ball of stuff. The King can then turn these balls of stuff into new stars, and thereby restore the light in the heavens— taking the credit for himself, of course. A side story focuses on the Hoshino family on Earth, with the children noticing the subtle—and not-so-subtle—evidence of the Prince’s work while the parents remain densely unaware.

In the aptly entitled sequel, We ♥ Katamari, the King has become so popular following the events of the first game, that he orders the Prince to appease his fans by rolling up katamaris with whatever they request, however they request it—no matter how ridiculous or stupid it sounds. In another side story, players witness the untold history of the King, presented with all the melodramatic clichés of a “classic” coming-of-age tale.

The series was developed by NAMCO, the company behind the 80’s classic, Pac-Man. And like Pac-Man, according to lead developer, Keita Takahashi, Katamari was made with four key elements in mind: novelty, ease of understanding, enjoyment, and humor. The end result has all of these in spades.

Here is a quote from the first game’s back cover: “Play is controlled with the analog sticks, with no buttons to press or combos to cause distress.” I’ve always found the phrasing of this statement both amusing and fascinating. There are many who avoid video games due to the intricacies of controller coordination; I can certainly imagine how this would be difficult for those who didn’t grow up playing video games and get the necessary practice on the controller. These games, however, are to be meant to be highly user-friendly without easing up on the challenge. As the levels and overall games progress, you use increasingly larger katamaris in order to roll up increasingly larger objects: from tiny things like thumbtacks, erasers, and silverware, to small animals like mice, cats, and dogs, to larger objects and creatures like furniture, livestock, and people, to huge objects like buildings and islands. The general objective of most levels is to get your katamari to a designated diameter within a given time limit. Other levels may have different objectives, like rolling up a great amount of a particular object or bringing your enlarged katamari to a specified location in the level before time runs out. I especially like the fact that even if the tiny Prince is invisible next to a comparatively huge katamari, an image of the Prince is always shown in the lower right corner of the screen, moving according the katamari’s maneuvering; here, we can really appreciate what a little trooper he is by the way he runs as if in a marathon, moves sideways with arms outstretched like a traffic cop or construction worker, or nearly drops to his knees when slowing a speeding katamari down, his adorably determined face scrunched up and red as he strains under the effort.

Now, I’m sure at this point many of you are thinking that age-old question: “What were they smoking?” But just you wait, it gets better :)

The King of All Cosmos looks like a stereotypically gay version of the Burger King mascot: a muscular, cleft-chinned humanoid with a gold crown, purple tights, and a large Elizabethan collar, as well as, like all his kind, a vibrant, cylinder-shaped head. A major show-off and a hero in his own mind, he also unbelievably passive-aggressive toward his son, always lamenting about his puny size of 5 cm—no, seriously, the prince is only 5 cm tall!—and supposed lack of sense compared to the King’s own. Moreover—and again, I’m not kidding here—the King’s in-game speaking voice is the scratching sound of a DJ’s record, but you wouldn’t know from that that his dialogue consists mostly of just over-the-top ranting:

[Beginning of the first level of Game 1]
KING OF ALL COSMOS:
- Here We are. Earth. Full of things as usual. Hmm? HMM!? Aack, so . . . so . . . s-small . . . You’re as small as ever. We didn’t notice, not one jot, what with the stars and all. What is that? That body, that physique. Could you really be Our son? Ah-hah! I’ve got it! Build yourself up while you roll the katamari. Work out and get bigger. Yes indeed. Don’t presume to take the escalator up to the throne just because you’re the Prince. Woo, tangent. [. . .]

But the Prince isn’t entirely alone: he also has cousins, the number of which keeps increasing with each game—not unlike the species of another Japanese game franchise I could name ;) Like the King, they speak in noises rather than words, these sounding like bits of alien gibberish spoken in severely distorted chipmunk voices. Though they all share the same basic size—and cuteness—as the Prince, each have different shapes, colorings, and personalities. And like any other collected objects, once the cousins have been rolled up in a katamari—yes, you can do that, and I swear that in itself is a major treat—the player can access the “Collection” menu and read their descriptions—made all the funnier because they are in the King’s own words, and their supposed interests and quirks have next to nothing to do with the game proper.

Just to name a few of my favorites:

- The Prince, of course, with a solid green body and purple legs.
Description (Katamari Damacy):
“The Prince is growing stronger and more mature every day. Still very small though.”

Lalala, said to be naked due to her solid tanned-flesh color.
Description (Katamari Damacy):
“A true free spirit, hating even the confines of clothing. Some call it exhibitionism.”

Dipp, black but covered in flashing strobe lights.
Description (We ♥ Katamari):
“A cousin who sparkles a lot and gets carried away with things. We wish he knew the difference between sticking out and just being a nuisance.”

Opeo, chronically mummified in bandages and a leg cast.
Description (Katamari Damacy):
“He looks ill all the time, but contrary to his sickly appearance, he has an intense vitality.”

Miso, red with a bowl-shaped head which is empty in game 1, but filled with soup in game 2.
Description (We ♥ Katamari):
“A cousin with a smell We find very relaxing. She isn't very good at strenuous exercise though.”

Kinoko, basically a mushroom with limbs.
Description (We ♥ Katamari):
“A slightly annoying second cousin who kicks up lots of dust whenever she moves. So she doesn't move much, out of courtesy.”

Twinkle, very pointy due to his star-shaped figure.
Description (We ♥ Katamari):
“A second cousin who damages things just by walking around, including himself. But he's still a nice guy.”

Nutsuo, who looks like a blue-striped peanut.
Description (We ♥ Katamari):
“This second cousin's hands could never, ever reach his face. We wonder how he eats his food.”

Ironically, the Cosmic beings are pretty natural-looking compared to the Lego-like creatures of Earth, their bodies sharply angular, their heads like cubes with creepy, doll-like faces painted on them. One of the few times they really show any life is when they run away, screaming in terror, before a massive katamari charges at them like a hilariously bad B-movie monster.

And all of this seen and done to a soundtrack that’s as nonsensical, disjointed, and kaleidoscopic as everything else in the game. There is the smooth Sinatra-esque “Que Sera Sera”; the frantic ecstasy of “Katamari Mambo”; the calm, innocent charm of “Cherry Tree Times”; the head-banging joy of “Everlasting Love”; the wistful and surprisingly somber-sounding “Blue Orb”; and whatever the heck “Kuru Kuru Rock” is :/

This is without a doubt one of the most absurd pieces of fiction of any medium ever conceived, never mind that I personally have ever seen. But that’s what makes them such “feel-good” games, addictive, charming, and almost guaranteed to put a smile on the faces of players and observers alike. Whether you consider it the acid trip it appears to be or simply a refreshing change from the American norm of interactive experiences, as for me, I think Katamari is living proof of how, in art and storytelling, it is sometimes better to ask, “Why not?” rather than “Why?”

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Build the Sky” - Sean Zarn

https://www.facebook.com/sean.zarn
All other music and sound clips are from Katamari Damacy and We ♥ Katamari (directed by Keita Takahashi; developed and published by Namco).

OST SONGS:
- “WANDA WANDA” (from Katamari Damacy)
- “Que Sera Sera” (from Katamari Damacy)
- “Katamari Mambo [Katamari Syndrome Re-mix]” (from Katamari Damacy)
- “Cherry Tree Times” (from Katamari Damacy)
- “Everlasting Love” (from We ♥ Katamari)
- “Blue Orb” (from We ♥ Katamari)
- “Kuru Kuru Rock” (from We ♥ Katamari)

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Katamari on Wikipedia

Keita Takahashi on Wikipedia

Namco on Wikipedia

Katamari's Official Website

Katamari on Fandom

Katamari on Common Sense Media

Katamari on Tv Tropes

Katamari on PlayStation Network

Katamari at Gamestop

Katamari on Google Play

Katamari at iTunes

Katamari on Amazon

Katamari on eBay

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

The Giant Killer

3/25/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Picture
#10 - Shadow of the Colossus
2005, T For Teen
Gather round this month, and I'll tell you the tale of a desperate young warrior who is tasked with slaying mountain-like monsters in order to revive his beloved.
(4/15/16)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
This time around I’d like to honor a man whose name likely won’t be familiar to those who don’t regularly play video games or keep up with gaming news and events, but whose work is definitely worth checking out: Fumito Ueda. He is known for leading the Japanese development team, Team ICO, in creating their first game, Ico, which has become a cult hit since its release on the Playstation 2 back in 2001. When a friend of mine lent her copy of Ico to me back in college, I was captivated with both its visuals and its intricacies in spite of its often-confusing geography. (No joke: if not for the guidance of YouTube walkthrough videos I never would have completed Ico for the sole reason of my constantly getting lost). Partly due to increased exposure, it was their next project that really cemented Ueda’s name and that of Team ICO in the world—and most especially, the art—of video games.

It is rumored that in a distant land there lives a being capable of controlling the souls of the dead—only, travel there is strictly forbidden. A brave warrior named Wander rejects this as he is willing to do absolutely anything to restore the life of Mono, a young girl implied to be his love interest and who had been supposedly sacrificed due to a curse. Upon reaching the ancient temple and easily dispatching some shadow creatures with the magic sword he processes, Wander is approached by Dormin, the mysterious unseen deity that resides within the Temple and is the one spoken of in the rumors. Wander asks Dormin to bring Mono back to life; it agrees, but in exchange Wander must use his sword to slay the sixteen giant beasts known as colossi that live in various parts of the forbidden land. Only then will Dormin use its power to revive Mono, though it does warn Wander that he may have to pay a heavy price in the process. But Wander is undaunted. With no one but his swift and faithful horse, Agro, for company and aid, Wander sets out to battle the colossi and fulfill his part of the bargain, no matter what it takes.

Considered by many to be a spiritual successor to Ico (or even a prequel by some others), not to mention one of the greatest video games ever made, PERIOD, Shadow of the Colossus is, to this day, a highly innovative game title for a number of reasons. Unlike most traditional action/adventure games, this one is very minimalist, with no weapons or upgrades to collect (Wander has only his sword and a bow and arrows); no areas to explore; no smaller enemies to fight; and no other people or creatures to speak to. While this concept may sound dull for a video game, it works here to set the melancholy tone of the game’s world and story. This is a “forbidden land,” so it’s only natural that it be deliberately devoid of almost any life aside from some birds and lizards. The environments themselves are just gorgeous: lush forests, immense mountainous cliffs, ancient ruins, vast deserts, all of these emphasize the feeling of isolation and powerlessness of the main character. The sounds and music serve a similar purpose. When Wander is traveling throughout the land in search of a colossus, all is silent except for the wind, the local animals, and Wander as he races upon Agro along the surrounding terrain. But then a full orchestra begins to build up an atmosphere of awe and wonder when a colossus is either nearby but not yet seen, or in sight but not yet attacking . . . but when the colossus at last appears, the music strikes with a power more than worthy of the god-like beings that rule over this land. There are exceptions to this, though: during some colossus battles the music remains slow and subdued throughout. I find this especially unique, as game boss levels in general are most often accompanied by music that’s loud and fast-paced, yet during these the player may hear slow and somber strings, majestic church organs and bells, even a choir that sounds more suited for a funeral than for a chaotic fight scene. Along with other reasons which I will explain shortly, this makes the battle with the final colossus in particular exceptionally poignant.

Each colossus differs in its appearance, its territory, and the varying methods that the player must employ to defeat it. Some stand up right or on all fours; some walk or fly or swim; some are more humanoid and others more animalistic; some attack with weapons or magic or brute force; some are relatively small, say, the size of lions or elephants, while others are like towers that seem to touch the heavens. But they all appear to be made up of a combination of grass and stone as well as fur and bone, as if they had been born from the very earth itself. Each one has a weak point in the form of a glowing sigil that must be pierced with the sword. And here’s where one of the truly enthralling aspects of Shadow comes in. This game consists of virtually nothing but boss battles, and part of the game’s challenge involves not only finding each colossus, but figuring out how to slay them. To reach and exploit the sigil, the player must literally scale a colossus like a mountain, using the nearby environment and/or even tricking the colossus into giving the player access to the sigil. And of course, like the wild beasts they are, many of the colossi will attack on sight, their eyes glowing red as they immerge from their hiding place and prepare to destroy the mortal that dares to invade their territory. They will also try to shake Wander off as he climbs or runs upon their backs like an insect on a dog, or plunge into water or sand to get free from his grip before going in for the kill.

And yet . . . despite how noble Wander’s quest may seem at first glance, there are hints throughout the story that suggest he may taking this too far. Dangerous and alien though the colossi may be, like many other more earthly creatures their beauty, grace, and power are to be admired and appreciated as a marvel of nature. Some of the colossi don’t even attack at all unless directly provoked. When a colossus is defeated, a cut-scene depicts its death: it lets out one final roar of agony, the light in its eyes fades, and then . . . the earth quakes as the ancient behemoth’s body crumbles like a magic spell breaking and it falls, never to rise again. Sometimes, if the player passes the site of a fallen colossus, it may look as though it has been swallowed back into the earth, a new hill covered in grass and rock, with little indication that it had ever been a living creature at all. By the time Wander reaches the sixteenth and final colossus, so much will have happened that, rather than reveling in the glory of slaying these giant monsters, the player may possibly instead regret undertaking this mission. And besides all that, how does the player know that Dormin will keep its word to revive Mono? Will Mono really awaken after all this? Is her brief mortal life truly worth the destruction of these awesomely beautiful beasts that, up to now, had kept to themselves?

Ueda and his team really strove for realism in the creation of this game, and it shows. Since its release, Shadow of the Colossus has been cited as a prime example of video game art, and I personally couldn’t agree more. This game is both a visual wonder and a beautifully heart-rending story that deserves to be experienced.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Beyond the Shadows” - Sean Zarn

https://www.facebook.com/sean.zarn
All other music and sound clips are from Shadow of the Colossus (directed by Fumito Ueda; developed by Team Ico and Japan Studio; published by Sony Computer Entertainment).

OST SONGS:
“Silence”
“The Opened Way”
“Creeping Shadow”
“A Messenger From Behind”
“The End of the Battle”
“Demise of the Ritual”

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Shadow of the Colossus on Wikipedia

Fumito Ueda on Wikipedia

Shadow of the Colossus on Fandom

Shadow of the Colossus on PlayStation Network

Shadow of the Colossus at GameStop

Shadow of the Colossus on Amazon

Shadow of the Colossus on eBay

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

Oblique Oblivion

3/25/2019

0 Comments

 
Picture
#4 - LIMBO
2010, T For Teen
Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a nameless, faceless boy who awakens in a dark and dangerous world that may or may not be purgatory.
(10/1/15)

​The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
While I do enjoy the horror genre a lot, nowadays I don’t often willingly engage in a scary story for things like excessive amounts or gore, make-out scenes that precede an over-the-top kill, or excruciatingly drawn-out montages of physical torture (no pun intended). Of course, if any of these things add something to the story and its message or performance or both, that’s fine. Plus, I’m not the type to faint at the sight of blood. I just don’t want them to be the only things included for their own sake. (Now this is my personal opinion. I mean no disrespect to those who enjoy such stories.) My point is that, like any other genre but especially in horror, I prefer subtlety. I like reasoning behind the fearfulness of the world I’m experiencing—or if the reasoning isn’t clear, I at least want to be able to ponder it for myself. And what better way to explore these ideas in depth than through the interactivity of video games?

The closest thing to a plot—never mind, synopsis—that LIMBO offers is this single line: “Uncertain of his sister's fate, a boy enters LIMBO”. This concept is much less obviously presented in the game itself, but it is quite literally all that you will know going into it; everything else must be learned through play. Players take on the role of a small boy with no name, no face, and no identity—except for his glowing white eyes—who awakens in a bleak and colorless world. What this world is and how the boy got there are just a few of the many mysteries players will encounter, and it quickly becomes clear that it is filled with dangers not always apparent until it is too late.

Now I will admit, I’ve played very few horror-based video games in my life. Those I have played were arcade shooters like Area 51, Crypt Killer, and House of the Dead, and while I still have a blast with those to this day, they offer very little in terms of psychological depth and exploration of meaning. LIMBO is the first horror game that I’ve bought and owned that offers these, as well as the initial reason I bought an XBOX 360. (Yes, I’m aware how lame that may sound to some of the more hard-core game players out there; please bear with me.) LIMBO was first released in July 2010 on XBOX Live Arcade and is the first game made by Playdead, an independent game studio headquartered in Copenhagen, Denmark. Arnt Jensen co-founded Playdead along with his partner Dino Patti to put together the ideas that would eventually become LIMBO. Jensen wanted the game to have a specific aesthetic feel while keeping the controls simple—nothing but moving, jumping, pushing and pulling—and the gameplay straightforward so that players would have an easier time getting the hang of the game and, from there, have a more meaningful experience with it overall. 

​LIMBO is a 2D puzzle-platform side-scroller presented in a sort of shadow-puppet-like style: the boy and the creatures and objects within are all black silhouettes against backgrounds of differing shades of black and white and grey. The visuals are grainy and dim, as if seen through an old film projector, and are reminiscent of film noir. Another fascinating aspect of LIMBO is that it has been called by its creators a “trial-and-death” game, in that the boy can—and will—die in a myriad of ways, from decapitation by a bear trap, to electrocution from a hotel’s neon sign, to being crushed or cut apart by mechanical equipment. And traps aren’t the only thing the boy and the player have to worry about. The boy must survive the wrath of other lifeforms such as giant spiders, which will strike and impale the boy with their long, hairy, claw-like legs; grotesque glowing larvae-like creatures called by fans names like “brain worms” or “brain slugs” because of how they will attach themselves to the boy’s head like a parasite, forcing him (and the player) to walk or run in a single direction without being able to stop; and, strangely enough, what appear to be other young boys which, for unknown reasons, will either try to kill the protagonist boy directly or avoid him while letting the deadly traps that they themselves have set up do the killing for them. (There is a “gore filter” option on the menu for more sensitive players who don’t want to see the death animations, made all the more gruesome because they happen to a child.) Due to the art style, many of the sinister traps aren’t always visible or obvious to the player as they tend to blend in with the environment; when they are, it’s usually only after they’ve killed you. Luckily, players are always put back very close to where they died, so they can get right back to solving the puzzle. There are no tutorials, cutscenes, loading times, dialogue, and text. While this may sound troublesome to an extent, the benefit of this is that the flow and the action will never be interrupted, letting the player be completely swept in.

What I personally love about LIMBO is its atmosphere and its symbolism. One doesn’t need to see or hear much to know this is a very tense and unwelcoming place. The choices made in sound design are incredible, especially given that the entire official soundtrack of LIMBO, composed by the masterful Martin Stig Andersen, is literally less than twenty minutes long. Interestingly, much of the game is comprised of only sound effects against a backdrop of silence, from the boy’s panting and footsteps as he runs, to the chirping, scurrying animals in the forest, to the cranking and banging of factory machinery in an abandoned city, adding to the feeling of desolation and loneliness. The actual music is generally comprised of single deep, echoing notes which match the game’s dark and dismal tone, as well as ambient notes that are as soft and fluid but deceptively surreal as the waters that swallow the boy up and drown him should he venture too deeply into them. The intentional lack of basic information regarding how the world of LIMBO works allows players to consider what the game means. This has left many, both players and critics alike, divided as it can leave one feeling either inspired or confused. In spite of this, numerous theories and ideas have been offered online based on players’ experience with it as well as what’s actually in the game. For example, one of the most popular and plausible pieces of evidence suggesting that the boy has in fact been dead throughout the game lies in the game’s title menu: just visible through the rain and washed-out light are some flies which hover over what could possibly be the outline of a small human body lying in the grass. The title itself suggests that the boy is in a kind of purgatory, since the word limbo derived from the Latin word, Limbus, which means “edge” (in this case indicative of “edge of hell”). With this in mind, what would you believe? Is the boy truly in Limbo, and if so, why? Did he do something so heinous in life that he is now fated to forever travel alone and unprotected through this harsh world? Or he could he be traveling in order to find atonement and reach heaven? And if his sister can be found, are either or both of them dead? What, if anything, do the traps, creatures, and environments represent? Is this entire experience just a dream? That’s for you to decide.

While not the first game to stand out for its artistic merit, it is one of the few that proves that a game doesn’t always have to be flashy or grand in order to garner praise. Depending on skill LIMBO can be completed in 2-6 hours. Short though this may seem, I believe it is better to end a brief but meaningful experience wanting more rather than sit through a longer one that is less than stellar. LIMBO is a perfect example of how less really can be more and still be able leave a lingering chill in the air and a philosophical conundrum in the mind.

CREDITS:
​Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/
https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Monochrome” - Briand Morrison (arranged by Erika Lynn Adams)
All other music and sound clips are from the video game, LIMBO (directed by Arnt Jensen; developed by Playdead; published by Playdead and Microsoft Game Studios)

OST SONGS:
“Menu”
“Sister”
“Boy’s Fort”
“City”
“Rotating Room”
“Gravity Jump”

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

LIMBO on Wikipedia

Playdead on Wikipedia

Playdead's Official Website

and Play LIMBO on Steam

LIMBO on PlayStation Network

LIMBO on Google Play

LIMBO at GameStop

LIMBO on Amazon

^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
0 Comments

    Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences

    For those who want to live the adventures through their consoles, computers, and hand-held devices.

    RSS Feed

    Books, Graphic Novels, and Other Works of Literature

    Movies, Short Films, and Other Works of Cinema

    TV Shows, Web Series, and Other Narrative Programs

    Music, Bands, and Other Creations of Sound

    Adaptations, Retellngs, and Old Tales in New Light

    Chronicles, Histories, and Anecdotes
Proudly powered by Weebly