When World Warriors and Avian Themed Superheroes Collide

I've come to the stark realization that I'm not as big a fighting game fan as I like to think I am. I was an impressionable pre-teen (or tween, as they're called these days) when Street Fighter II took the world by storm; it was a cathartic release to what a twelve-year-old viewed as an oppressive world. I used to pour over the manual, studying the special moves harder than most devout Christians would the Bible. Even though the genre is rooted in competition, I was content with thrashing the computer opponents on the lowest settings. Those were happy times.

Nowadays the thought of novella sized move list scares me heartily and the lowest set AI can hand me my ass faster than you can pronounce "Shoryuken".

Even though fighting games have fallen into the endless abyss known as a niche and I'm about as skilled as your grandma, I can't help but become smitten when something new comes along that promises flaming uppercuts and the ability to do endless punch/kick combos. I don't pretend to know any of the minutiae involved, I just tend to stick with enjoying it to the extent of my admitted feeble abilities. What that means is they have a much shorter lifespan than they used to inside my consoles.

Tatsunoko vs. Capcom: Ultimate All-Stars unfortunately has even less of a shelf life because I'm just not as endeared to the cast of anime brawlers, especially in lieu of me downloading Marvel vs. Capcom 2 a while back. It's not that they don't look cool, because they do; it's just that there's no history behind it for me. Beyond having heard of Battle of the Planets and being forced to watch Neon Genesis Evangelion by my youngest brother - I know nothing of Tatsunoko. As if to assure this game polarizes me, Capcom also included some of their more obscure characters that are known to me but aren't as beloved in my eyes. Hi there blonde guy from Onimusha...where's Ken and those guys?

Usually I can look beyond my inability of being culturally conscientious so long as the game play can pull me in...but that didn't happen, either. In the grand scheme of things, I'm more inclined towards fighters are strictly one on one and a bit more on the technical side. Because the flashy, team-switching battles in Tatsunoko vs. Capcom overwhelmed my old man eyes and more often than not I found myself on the losing end every time. If I've learned anything since Street Fighter II ruled my world, it's that fighting games should be played with other humans, even when said people happens to be your little brother...who can hand me my ass without blinking. Which is, to say, the reason why it's merrily on it's way back to GameFly; because I had no interest in playing it by myself.

I'm sorry this pseudo-review didn't give you a lot of the information you might be looking for. But I wasn't interested in going online and having my soul crushed by fighting savants, and the endings and unlockables weren't compelling enough for me to trudge through the single player arcade mode either. Don't read into my views of Tatsunoko vs. Capcom as being negative towards the game; just that it wasn't my style. I appreciate that Capcom had the stones to bring this stateside, because I'm sure I'm not the only one who doesn't know what a Yatterman is. And something of this pedigree is just unheard of on the Wii; which is slightly sad because people will still look down on it regardless.

In the grand scheme of things, playing Tatsunoko vs. Capcom will probably make me appreciate the simplicity of Super Street Fighter IV when it releases. But it will also remind me that I seemingly can only get my fix with that series; making me the gaming equivalent of a meth addict. What a comforting thought as I close out this post. I don't shoot drugs, just fireballs.

The Game Show MMO

When it comes to online gaming, there's many a flavor to be had. There's the incessant need to hoard "mad loot", level up and awkwardly attempt social interaction with a purple-skinned elf hottie that swears up and down that they are of the female persuasion. There's the cathartic need to shoot people in the head and crouch on the corpses of your enemy while asking if they'd like some crumpets with that tea while inventing new racial slurs. And of course there's the bombardment of public advertisement that comes from Facebook as you ask your friends whether they'd like to adopt a stray animal from your ranch or join you in the Mafia. Me? I play random trivia game shows that are supported by constant advertisements from Sprint while I stand next to a crowd of Avatars dressed as if they're mothers didn't raise them properly.

Such is the life of a 1 vs. 100 addict.

I've written about this game before; how it became this obsession with my wife and I, hoping we'd somehow use our collective vault of useless knowledge for fame and glory. Even with the odds playing against us, we thought surely we'd either join the mob or become the one; what with her sick knowledge of mathematics and cell phone etiquette and my love of history and Kevin Smith films. Sensing that maybe the gaming collective might get bored with simply answering questions about which actor was in both Dune and Wing Commander III: Heart of the Tiger, they did what any good developer worth their weight in gold would: add a rudimentary leveling system that would put its barbs so far into you that you have no choice but to be hooked.

I may joke about it, but the ability to progress, even if only numerically, adds enough structure to keep people playing for a really, really long time. I don't think the multiplayer in Call of Duty would feel as unique without it. And it turns 1 vs. 100 into less a novelty and more a national obsession. Only instead of getting perks, you get dance moves. There's also medals for immediate consumption such as being speedy and correct or scoring better than the one. The game also keeps track of all you stats, egging you to keep playing just to beat yourself. There are now achievements as well, boosting your gamer score as well as your pride. Everything shines and sparkles just enough to get your attention, hoping to do it again. Just one more round.

It's pulled me in with what I imagine is the same kind of sleepless fervor a World of WarCraft player would have. Every day I scan the schedule to see what kind of themes the games will have that evening. Fortunately, my addiction will be kept in check; the game runs as a season, which'll force me to go without eventually, cold turkey.

Maybe it's for the best; no one needs to dream about Chris Cashman that much. Not even Chris Cashman.

Dead Space: The Animated Rollercoaster Ride

I have a very curious relationship with the Dead Space series; ever since the original game I've grown excited about it's concept, quality and execution...but I never buy one. Usually that kind of fervor always turns into a purchase; but I'm content with just renting them, enjoying the hell out of it and then summarily writing them off as a disposable experience. I think it's an age thing; I can appreciate and have a good time with something and not feel the need to own it.

Maybe disposable wasn't an appropriate term, I think everyone who owns a Wii should play Dead Space: Extraction; not just because it's an interesting evolution in what we think a light gun game is, but because it takes the term "guided experience" in a direction that doesn't make the use of quotations seem like it has a negative connotation.

What's awesome is that Extraction is a Dead Space game through and through. When you get past the fact that you can't control your character, you begin to realize that through its themes, its strategic combat and its ability to use the same visual style without losing any fidelity that this is meant to be as respected as it's graphically superior forbearer. It's a deliberate design decision that uses the type of care I wish more developers would use when making games for the Wii.

As lovingly crafted as it is, I have a hard time digging into the Dead Space mythology in the way that the developers want me to; which may be the root as to why these games are rentals and not purchases in my book. There's a whole history behind the Marker and the necromorphs, the religion behind it and the true scientific reasonings for it all; unfortunately I just see it as the videogame equivalent to a slasher flick...in space. While I can appreciate the various logs you can pick up (I especially liked the audio ones that played through the remotes speakers)...I just don't care. I know enough that I enjoy going from beginning to end and that's all that's really needed.

It's funny to write that because so much of Extraction is about the interplay between your character and the band of misfits he accrues as they try to make their escape from an overrun planetside colony to the what they think is the safety of the U.S.G. Ishimura, the iconic mining ship that's turning into the games' defining mark. Like any good slasher, each member of your entourage comes from different walks of life and social castes, each contributing in some way to the overall story arch and helping progress the game. By progress I mean helping open doors or giving you boosts into vents; you're on your own with the combat. Barring the "it's just a game" moments like that, it definitely gives off a foreboding vibe and a healthy fear of being alone. Assuming you let the game move you in that way, anyways.

The fact that I was the only one bothering to save our hides by blasting alien scum didn't bother me because the combat is so, for a lack of a better term and a undying need to add a pun in this post somewhere, visceral. When levels weren't being moved along by verbal repartee, you're gratifyingly dismembering necromorphs for fun and survival. Granted, you don't have the ability to back away or find cover in any form, but the combat from the original game has carried over verbatim. Dismembering monsters isn't particularly innovative and it's definitely not rocket science, but it is extremely satisfying to freeze them in mid-lunge with your stasis power and calculatedly remove each limb before they come back. Which, in some cases, still isn't the end for them. That's kind of why I'm loathe to call this a light gun game, because there's a lot of ways to tackle battles than the usual "shoot them in the head and ask questions later" motif they usually carry.

Further removing it from that genre is the variety of weapons in your arsenal and the fact that you can upgrade in ways that feel substantial. Granted, you only get power boosts and larger clips; but it's felt through game play and doesn't feel superficial. I wish that the majority of the guns showed up earlier; after about level 5 I didn't care about what was introduced because I was afraid that they weren't as powerful as the ones I'd been carrying since the beginning. That wasn't a deal-breaker though; I came across a similar issue with the original game, that being I tended to stick with the default armament from beginning to end. While I still think the plasma cutter is the more symbolic six shooter, Extraction decided to one-up it's mundanity by giving you a rivet gun. Although, on second thought, it would have been amazing had you been able to staple baddies to walls.

Another layer of depth comes from the fact that there's an abundance of resource management as you move through the levels. Considering the game is basically an on-rails set piece rollercoaster, it could be distracting at times. Besides ammo and health, you also track down the ubiquitous logs I mentioned earlier. While an interesting idea, it removes you from the story being told because you're too busy trying to grab things rather than look at the NPCs emotive faces. I could see the logs as being a good excuse to replay the game; but unless they were convenient, I wouldn't grab them. Which, now that I think about it, is probably the reason I stuck with the unlimited ammo rivet gun from beginning to end.

I had a great time with Dead Space: Extraction, but at the same time it makes me sad because this brilliant experience has, as of now, gone mostly unnoticed. It fell into that same trap Beyond Good & Evil did; where it gets critical acclaim and a lot of blogger buzz...but nobody buys a single copy of the damn. It's made me feel a bit guilty for having just rented it and never intending on picking it up. I may end up doing so the next time I see it; it's bound for the bargain bin, and we should all save it when we sit it sitting there, all lonely like.

Because, you know, those necromorphs heads aren't going to cut themselves off, you know.

The Catharsis of Vegetable Grooming

As punny as it sounds, it took a while before Bonsai Barber grew on me. It starts off as a one trick pony, but I grew to appreciate it the more I played (That one was intentional). It's one of those games that are totally and unabashedly relaxing, something that's not explored in videogames often enough. This review also holds special meaning because it got me in contact with Martin Hollis; a true visionary in games creation. Someday I might grow a pair and see if I can get an interview with him just to see what makes him tick and why this game is so good. Oh, and why the banana is so devious.

Even I found it befuddling that I found myself compelled to play a game whose prime directive was to finely manicure the hedges of talking flora. It's all thanks to a very convincing interview that Martin Hollis (director of seminal classic GoldenEye) gave on the Nintendo Channel during E3. He touched on the subject that he was getting to a point in his life where he's become more open-minded about what he plays and experiences. He talked about how having children and getting older had changed his tastes; something I find myself reflecting on more often than not as I approach thirty at a rapid pace. Anyways, to make a long insightful rant short and turn it into a proper game critique; he conceived Bonsai Barber to be something of a chaser to more serious fare, convinced me to download it to my Wii and suddenly become interested in giving a carrot the space buns hairdo.

The entire concept of Bonsai Barber sounds nothing more than something that should be, and probably is, a mini-game in say a WarioWare title. You take up shop in a nameless village with leafy denizens, and your prime directive is to give them the hair style of their choosing. They hop in the chair, an outline appears across their luscious bush-fro and you have at it. And that's really just about it. Besides cutting, you have access to clippers and a comb and you're also given the ability to color when the need arises (hot dogs are red and the bun is yellow, for example). But I'd be lying if that fact gave this game an amazing amount of depth. In all reality, you only get five clients a day and a single run is around the ten to fifteen minute range.

While I could bemoan that Bonsai Barber should have been released after Wii Motion Plus because there's a definite lack of finesse; what it gives you in return is something that most of us wouldn't find as rewarding: patience. Much like taking care of an actual bonsai tree, there's something gratifying and even reflective when it comes to meticulously trimming twigs. Believe me, that's as weird a sentence to write as it probably is to read. But it's true. There's something calming about that simplicity. But I could have had that with WMP too.

Stylistically, the game is akin to Animal Crossing; you start getting to know the citizens of the burg and getting attached. I suppose that's similar to when you go into a barber yourself; eventually you get to chatting and sometimes begin to build rapport, which usually results in return business. You never get to stroll around town, which is disappointing, but that's just a minor grievance. Beyond personality and look, you begin to find variances in the way that each character's leaves grow. It's in this that the game reveals it's challenge. Some folks have a large branch and many twigs which makes them easier; some have larger forks that makes it more meticulous. There's even a secret agent banana who's hair grows in the opposite direction of everyone else, totally changing your style. I like to think of him as a boss. If the moment of zen isn't your idea of a game winning prize, the neighbors also send postcards, give out doo-hickeys and a variety of achievements and goals to keep you plugging away.

Is this a game I'd recommend unequivocally? Probably not. It's an acquired taste and it does admittedly take a long time to warm up to, if you do at all. But for ten dollars, it was an experiment I was willing to take part in. So congratulations Mr. Hollis; you've managed to successfully veer off the beaten path and create something that's original, entertaining and a complete contrast of what we'd expect from an originator of console's first superb FPS. You've also managed to avoid putting the mullet as a style choice. To that I say thank you.