2016 Game Review Haiku, #60 – Make It Rain: The Love of Money

Swipe to make money
Fill your bucket with green stuff
Digitally rich

–

Here we go again. Another year of me attempting to produce quality Japanese poetry about the videogames I complete in three syllable-based phases of 5, 7, and 5. I hope you never tire of this because, as far as I can see into the murky darkness–and leap year–that is 2016, I’ll never tire of it either. Perhaps this’ll be the year I finally cross the one hundred mark. Buckle up–it’s sure to be a bumpy ride. Yoi ryokō o.

Money will create success as you venture through Coin Crypt

I don’t know about you, but in this day and age, it sure seems like coins–otherwise known as disc-shaped metal or alloy that can be used to purchase goods–matter less and less with each rotation of the Earth. Not even paper bills are highly visible anymore. It’s all about the plastic or, if you have a cooler phone than myself, you can just show people your screen at Starbucks to order that triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato via your gift card credit line and never have to do more than flick your wrist. Still, coins are an age-old staple of videogames, and, more to the point, your direct means of attacking enemies in Coin Crypt.

This aptly named Coin Crypt arrived in my Steam library back in August 2015 via the Humble Jumbo Bundle 4, which also contained–deep breath–the following:

• Space Engineers
• The Incredible Adventures of Van Helsing II
• Fallen Enchantress: Legendary Heroes
• The Stanley Parable
• Outland – Special Edition
• Mercenary Kings
• Endless Space – Emperor Edition
• Screencheat
• Freedom Planet

Whew. Naturally, of all those, I’ve only tried one other at this point, namely The Stanley Parable. I do occasionally glance at Mercenary Kings and Outland and think hmmm maybe, though I’ve yet to flex my finger muscle and press play on either. Perhaps sometime in 2016. Perhaps. Or maybe if I can figure out my recording stuff I can feature them on an upcoming streaming event thingy. Yeah, the less I commit to, the better for now.

Anyways, Coin Crypt is fairly neat. It’s a rogue-like adventure game that borrows its combat system from collectible card games where you use different spells to deal damage and cast other effects on an opponent. A bit of Magic: The Gathering, a pinch of Hearthstone. Actually, I haven’t played Hearthstone, so that’s really a wild guess. There’s also randomly generated worlds and permadeath if you want to get to the heart of the matter. At the start, you select a bouncy, rectangular cube-like adventurer and go off into the world, navigating them via a top-down perspective. You must collect coins, fight enemies, and advance further. Coins are life, as they are how you attack your opponent, purchase additional character classes after you buy the farm, and unlock gated parts of the level, so managing them is vital. You also need to ensure you have a good balance of offensive and defensive coins, so you’re not stuck on your turn with nothing but three shield coins to use.

I really dig Coin Crypt‘s stylized graphics. The tall, rectangle adventurers hop about like pod people or Mii avatars, but contain enough detail to have personality from one to another. The thick outlines around everything give off a cel-shaded look, which I can always get behind, and the bright colors help keep everything bright and bubbly, even when the challenge turns it up a notch and you begin scraping by in fights. At this point, I’ve only seen the forest and the world after it, which is themed around a graveyard; I suspect there are a few more areas to discover as well, and I’m working towards unlocking the monkey class, as we all should be working towards always, no matter the scenario.

Similar to Spelunky and The Binding of Isaac, I pop into Coin Crypt rather infrequently, but when I do, I give it all my attention. I’ve gotten a few levels deep, but always meet my maker because I run out of strong attack coins or am simply not fast enough to take down my opponent. The combat is not exactly turn-based, as if you sit still too long you’ll get smacked in the face. There’s a lot to pay attention to, to plan ahead for. That said, it takes some time to read what all the coins do and figure out which to pick or whether I should reshuffle them into my bag and try again with a new set of three.

With many roguelike titles, one can only get better through persistence. I’ll keep at Coin Crypt for sure, though I wonder and worry if I’ll ever reach its conclusion. If there’s a conclusion to be reached. Money can’t buy that.

Time Clickers and the idle quest to destroy colored cubes

Well, here we are. After listening to Jeff Gerstmann speak feverishly and passionately about an idle clicking game called Time Clickers on the Giant Bombcast for the past two weeks, I decided to see what was what. The blasted thing is free on Steam, and I dabbled in things like AdVenture Capitalist and that strange monster-driven mini-game during this past Steam Summer Sale to grok the concept. Little did I know that watching colored cubes explode would be so gratifying, even when I barely contributed to their demise.

Made by Proton Studio Inc., Time Clickers is…a clicking game with guns. For those that don’t know what that means, a clicking game basically revolves around on you, the player, clicking on different elements to eventually get to the point where actions are happening automatically and you can just sit back, eyes dilated, absorbing the delicious, dopamine-triggering rewards. A few examples that I’ve not played but heard of include Cookie Clicker and Clicker Heroes. In this one, you collect gold by blasting apart colored cubes, upgrade your click pistol, hire a team of elite soldiers to fire additional weapons at the cubes, and take down bosses as quickly as you can. You do this ad infinitum, constantly leveling everything up and “advancing” further through the game.

For a game that demands such little interaction, I can’t stop thinking about it. See, even when you are not running Time Clickers, you are continuing to earn gold. It’s like in Fable II, when you’d purchase houses and rent them out to villages. You could turn the game off, come back a few days later, and be much more richer, as the pay-rent-to-landlord system kept turning even while you were away. A part of me wonders how much money I’d get now if I turned Fable II on and loaded up my save from 2009-ish. Anyways, Time Clickers does that, which means it is always luring me back, with the completed promise of more gold to spend on DPS upgrades.

Steam says I’ve logged about two hours or so already in Time Clickers. Ugh. Here, let me let you in on a dark secret; the other night, while on the phone with my sister, I let the game run, watching cubes explode and Achievements pop, all without my hand even hovering over the mouse. Yes, it’s that kind of experience. It’s as if you had a fish tank full of bright, vibrant sea life, and every now and then you got a reward just for looking at it. Or not looking at it. Nothing can stop the clicks.

I’m sure there’s plenty to probe here. It all boils down to this: clicking games are a horrifying examination of human psychological weakness. They take hold of us and never let go. Even now, while I’m far away from my gaming laptop where Time Clickers is installed, it’s calling out to me, a siren on the shore, lulling me into a haze, one where the numbers keep going up and the cubes explode faster and arena bosses grow in size. I wonder if I’ll ever escape its grasp.

The monotony of Mafia II

There are a couple of new(ish) videogames out for the Xbox 720 360 that have my interest, but after spending $60 on Game of Thrones: The Game and not even wanting to play it any further than the opening chapters due to “dog stealth” fatigue…I’m thinking I need to hold back for just a tiny bit. Finish some titles I have instead of just buying more, more, and more. For those curious, the games I’m mulling about right now are The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings (probably what I want the Game of Thrones muck to actually be) and Dragon’s Dogma. Yup, RPGs. What a shocker.

So, Mafia II. It’s a game I waited a long time to receive as it was being passed around by the First Hour gangers, and then when I got it, I played for a little bit before being severely turned off by the main character’s lack of conscience and unwavering drive to make money, no matter who ended up in the woodchipper. I stopped playing during the mission where you had to sneak inside a building and steal some gas stamps; I failed it a few times due to being spotted and wanted the Achievement that rewarded players for going unnoticed, but then I forgot about the whole thing for many months. Until last week, that is. Go me:

The Professional (10G): Obtain the ration stamps without raising the alarm.

Boom. Well…silent boom. And so, completing this mission helped fuel me forward, as the game moves at a rather quick pace. Not an exciting or fun pace, mind you, but a pace that a man running a marathon would appreciate. Though I did almost give up on the whole thing once Vito Scalleta got to prison and you had to do so many fights, which are probably the worst parts of the game. Especially when it just seems like you press the dodge button, and then you don’t dodge the hit. Frustrating and clunky to be sure. I hope there’s less fighting to come though I know there’s an Achievement for knocking out 30 dudes this way. Might not be worth the grind…

Tara enjoys watching me play Mafia II. Guess it reminds her of L.A. Noire, and I can see that in certain spots. It is, of course, nowhere as amazing, but there is some overlap. However, there are times I can’t get over the extremely monotonous activities this game makes you do as a player, such as handing out boxes of cigarettes, scrubbing toilets and floors, and using squeegees to clean windows. Like, those are the things you do between more back-and-forth driving and more hide-and-seek shooting. Oh, and filling up your gas tank. Cause I don’t get to do that enough in real life. Anyways, when these fireworks-inducing moments happen, I like to exclaim, “Videogames! 2012!”

Other than chapter-related Achievements, here’s two more that I earned with my supreme driving and shooting skills:

The Enforcer (10G): Kill 50 enemies.

Get Rich or Die Flyin’ (10G): Get all wheels of your car into the air for at least 20 meters and then touch the ground again.

Right now, I’m in the middle of Chapter 10, helping my less-than-stellar friend Joe clean up a little accident. According to the list of Achievements…there are 14 or 15 chapters total, which means I’m close to the end. That’s surprising, but I’m okay with that. I just want to complete Mafia II and be done with its utter blandness. The only thing I’ll miss is putting the speed limiter on and driving around the city to some truly great tunes. Oh well. Guess that’s what Grooveshark is for these days.

The ending to Jurassic Park: The Game is a big pile of dino droppings

There are several problems with Jurassic Park: The Game, but none bigger than its ending, and I’m going to discuss it at length in this post, so if you don’t want to be spoiled beyond Spoiled City, get out now. Just go. Put in a VHS copy of the 1993 classic Jurassic Park, play with the tracking buttons, and then sit back, soak in, and be at peace. Trust me, you’re better off; I mean, I wish I wasn’t thinking about these things, but I am. And the only way to get rid of them is to dump them here.

::insert Tyrannosaurus Rex roar::

As the remaining survivors–Gerry Harding, Jess Harding, and Nima–race to reach the boat that can take them off Isla Nublar, a choice is presented, one that’s extremely easy to make: save Jess or save the Barbasol can of dinosaur embryos. If you go for the can, Nima dies. If you save Jess, the can is stomped flat, but everyone lives to see another day. The latter is deemed the “good ending” and was what I earned first, later going back to see what would happen if you tried to grab the can before Mean Ol’ Mr. T-Rex caught wind of your antics. Right. So, they all live and are motoring away on the escape boat as that familiar tune plays. Hooray. Except Nima is pretty downtrodden and not because her partner in crime Yoder got eaten: that Barbasol can represented a way to get her and her daughter into a new life, with food and security and all the things that a mother/daughter combo need to survive. Without it, she has nothing. Gerry promises her that he’ll do whatever he can to help the both of them, but before he can work out a plan, his daughter Jess interupts to inform them about a bag full of cash she just found.

And that’s where Jurassic Park: The Game ends. No, really. It’s that, followed by the boat scooting away into the sunset and a flock of Pterodactylus passing by overhead. Roll credits. Put the controller down.

Which means we–the viewer, the player, the puppet master–are left to interpretation. And the game seems to imply that Nima will take the money found on the boat. That Gerry Harding will totally be okay with Nima taking all that money, that it’s for a good cause. For the entirety of Jurassic Park: The Game, Harding has been constantly reminding his daughter that stealing is wrong and trying to teach her to be a wiser teenager, to make good, wholesome choices. To not smoke or talk back to elders or, y’know, steal stuff. And he did all of this while dinosaurs of varying sizes and skins tried to eat them. Good for him.

But here, at the end–and granted, he did just outrun a T-Rex–he says nothing about the bag of money. Nothing about going to InGen about what happened on the island and Dr. Sorkin or anything like that. Maybe he actually does. The scene cuts away after the literal money shot, and we don’t know what other conversations the trio have as they make their way home, but that’s the game’s fault. Again, it doesn’t tell us, and so we have to go off of what is presented, which is that Nima is going to get all the money, the money she was originally going to get anyway from stealing from InGen. If Harding lets Nima take the money, he is again approving of stealing, which I’m sure Jess would find contradictory.

It’s an atrocious piece of writing, that doesn’t make sense, but comes across as extremely unlikely and Hollywood-like. I’d rather have seen them sail away without a bag of money, happy to be alive, promising each other that they would get through whatever came next, especially considering what they just survived. Maybe even Nima would become a motherly figure to Jess since her parents were not going to work it out. Of, if anything, as a wink to the first film and a meta joke to the fact that Jurassic Park: The Game is in itself a wink to a throwaway plotline, Harding could’ve acknowledged the bag of money, zipped it up, and tossed it into the water–y’know, for someone else to find. As is, the game’s “good ending” is far from good.

And all of this makes me extra nervous about Telltale Games’ forthcoming The Walking Dead game. The only light there is that in a world overrun by zombies, a bag of money is pretty much useless.