Archive for May, 2008

A Professor Layton review.

Sunday, May 25th, 2008

Professor Layton and the Curious Village

I had heard bits and pieces about this game when it first came out. About how Level 5 (developer of the fantastic Dragon Quest VIII) was behind it and about how it was attempting to mix up the puzzle genre a bit by adding a main story and characters with drive and purpose to the game. I also remember being particularly drawn to the distinct Sylvian Chomet-like European artwork in the game which I found absolutely lovely and compelling the second I laid my eyes upon them. Yet when the game was first released, I was feeling completely apathetic about the DS as a gaming device and just couldn’t be bothered to give it a chance. A couple of weeks ago, I managed to play the game for about five minutes. The end result? Professor Layton and the Curious Village has effectively reacquainted me with a DS I hadn’t touched in over nine months and with an interest in light puzzle solving that I had long forgotten.

The premise in the game is simple: You’re Professor Layton, famous puzzle solver, and you, along with your faithful apprentice Luke, are invited to St. Mystere to help find its hidden treasure, the Golden Apple. Many puzzles ensue. The game is split into two different game modes, puzzle solving and exploration, and in both you use the stylus exclusively. Exploration is largely in first person and it works like in most point and click adventure games, i.e. you walk around, and use your stylus to tap on who you want to talk and where you want to go. In puzzle solving, you use the stylus to tap on answers, drag things around, draw lines or figures, write in answers (with the game’s really solid writing recognition software) among other things. The controls never got in the way of the game itself and that’s all one can ask from a game like this.

The game is structured so that you’ll usually have to explore your admittedly tiny world map until you come across somebody that needs you to solve a puzzle for them before they let you proceed along other areas of the map and/or advance the story. The puzzles themselves range from easy to devilish, logic-based to math-based, visual to text-driven and everything in between. It’s a nice mix of puzzles even if some of them are taken straight from grammar school (measure X amount of water by using 3 difference sized pitchers). There is also a relatively high number of “trick question” puzzles that’ll no doubt aggravate you from time to time although, after failing at a few of those, you start to learn to think just how the game wants you to think.

It’s really amazing how just adding a little bit of context and character to the perhaps tired puzzle game genre on the DS you get a game that’s as captivating as this one. The story is nothing amazing (though it’s easily better than a large percentage of games out there) but it’s well done and the characters are very endearing. As you progress through the game, you’ll come across a few mysteries surrounding the village and it was extremely satisfying and rewarding when, in the climax of the game, the Professor starts to pull these various pieces of evidence together to reveal the secret behind St. Mystere. The music, though perhaps repetitive, fits the ominous vibe of St. Mystere perfectly and the art style, as I touched upon earlier, is just superb. The modest use of animated cutscenes and sporadic voice overs certainly add to the experience as well. It’s so strange to see a complete action cutscene in a video game, from set-up to resolution, when we’re so used to cutscenes being nothing more than an appetizer before you get back control of your character and start to break some teeth.

But alas, this is a puzzle game and a damn good one at that.

I’m buying the sequel on day one.

Final Score: 9/10

Taking a Stroll in the Rough Streets of Bay Ridge or the Streets Are All About Survival

Thursday, May 22nd, 2008
I wake up.
My phone was ringing, I didn’t bother picking it up. What time is it?
9:49 PM
Lame. I would’ve been better off staying asleep. God, it’s nearly ten. I must’ve passed out after work. All I know is the day before I went to Manhattan, had a few drinks (okay, more than a few), almost got into a fight at the bar, wiped my roommates puke from a cab window, and got into a small argument a vocally challenged subway employee because I bothered to ask her what she said on the microphone. You see, in NYC, all of the employees who make announcements suffer from a physical condition called your-mouth-is-too-close-to-the-mic impairment.
It would probably have made for an entry on it’s own, but instead it sets me up for the events that follow. I came home from that mess, slept for 3 hours, drank a red bull, walked into work dragging my feet (4th day on the job, mind you). Thankfully it was slow and I didn’t have to wait on people much. I was still a little hungover and hungry. I got a slice of pizza from one of NYC’s generic pizzerias on my way home, inhaled the slice, sat on the couch, blinked once, blinked twice, and now it’s 10 o’clock.
I pretty much did nothing but watch TV for the next couple of hours. After wasting some time, I finally found the motivation to go shower. I finished and realized I was really hungry. I only ate one meal all day. I looked in the fridge for something, anything, to eat or drink.
The following items were in my fridge:
-beer
-mayonnaise
-mustard
-ketchup
-lemons
(If someone knows of a way to combine these into an awesome meal, let me know or leave a comment.)
I knew it was time to get out and scope the city for something to eat. It was time to walk the rough streets of Brooklyn. The streets don’t intimidate me. I’ve been to the rough streets of Detroit and Flint plenty of times, behind the wheel of my car (doors locked, windows up). I can handle this. People don’t know! People don’t fucking know! I have an alter-ego named Rolo (I’m cashing in on the “candy bar” name fad) and I have a rich history of dealing with the streets through my viewing of rap videos and mafia movies.
I began my journey by walking up to 5th and 86th Street. I gotta get my paper (money) before I can get my grub on. After doing some hustling and throwing away my ATM receipt, I walked up to the Pizza Wagon. There was this tall Italian kid (about 20, maybe) spitting on the sidewalk giving me dirty looks. I held my ground and kept walking to the order window, about 20 feet to, he turned around to get his order. He must’ve had second thoughts (smart guy).
-I had to take this photo during the day, they might whack me for taking picture of the usual Italian patrons.
I was beginning to have second thoughts myself because I ate pizza earlier. I almost walked in there, but as I walked by I noticed the place was loaded with Italians. Usually I wouldn’t give a fuck, but I had a feeling if I walked in it’d be like one of those scenes in the movies where the music stops and everyone turns their attention to you.
“Whatever, I already had a slice earlier today.”
I continued onward, back toward 4th, where I noticed the B-Stop Deli still open. The “B” had to stand for “Break” as in breakdancer (B-Boy). I knew this might be a shadier place to walk in. I’ve seen Breakin’ and Breakin’ 2: Electric Bugaloo. This was going to be my biggest test since coming to Brooklyn. I had outcomes projecting in my mind of my mother finding out about me by a headline that read, “Man Beaten to Death by Well-Choreographed Street Thugs.”
-Again, had I taken this picture at night, I wouldn’t have came back alive.
I got on my cellphone walking up to the establishment to make it seem as though I was calling up my crew. I had to let these suckers know I meant business. Unfortunately no one picked up. After leaving a voicemail on my mom’s cellphone (“Hi Mom! I’m just calling to see if you guys are up. I guess you’re not. I bought a silk comforter today. I love you and tell Dad I love him, too!”), I decided I was going to walk in. The man in front of me ordered a sandwich really quick, “Pastrami, lettuce, tomato, on rye, swiss cheese, with mayo and mustard.”
They must know him. Because he ordered it really swift and when he was done making the sandwich for the man, he tossed it to the cashier.
Now it was my turn.
“Can I jelp you?”
Lights, Camera, Action. My heart stopped. I knew I had to do this.
“Sir?” he asked again.
“Yes, I’d like a Turkey Club.”
“What kind of bread you like?”
“Rye.” He began making it. I knew it was almost over. It was too early to call this outing a success, but I knew the worst might be behind me . . . wait! I forgot to tell him what kind of cheese I wanted.
“Sir, can I have provolone with that?”
“There is no sheese on de club!”
“Can I add it?”
“No sheese. He does not come with sheese.”
Damn. These streets ARE tough. I had a feeling, but I had to experience it first hand to know what Puff Daddy, MC Hammer, and Ice Tea were talking about. There was no way to change the rules of the game. The sandwich was going to made as specified by the menu and this Hispanic gangster sandwich maker controlled my fate.
I pulled my Ace. I gotta use street smarts.
“I’ll pay extra for cheese.”
“No sheese on the club. Does not include.”
I started my way to the cooler to grab a Diet Coke. I felt defeated. Then he turns his head to me and says:
“You want sheese? You pay extra?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Provolone please.”
Finally, RESPECT. I got my street props. I grabbed some chips and walked over to the counter, but before I can pay for my the order, the sandwich maker signals something to the cashier.
I decided to play it safe. The last thing I need was to get hit by a drive-by on way back home. I announced to the cashier after he rang up my stuff:
“I added cheese to my sandwich.”
“Is okay, he say no charge.”
BOO-YA, I run the streets. I thanked them and walked back to my apartment. No broken bones or bullet wounds to mend. I survived another day. That’s what life on the streets is about, survival.

Words.

Wednesday, May 21st, 2008

I was in Borders over the weekend looking for books on Tesla without much success (which surprised me, you’d think one of the most famous scientists of the early 20th century would have plenty of material.  Plenty on Edison though, that fat son of a bitch.)  Bored trying to find real books – something Borders doesnt seem to carry anymore – I headed over to the comic books to see what kind of hardbacks they had.  Again, not finding anything worth looking at I was turning to leave when two guys around my age came up and started talking about Uncanny X-Men.  Only he pronounced it with a long U.  You-ncany X-men.  How does someone not know how to pronounce that word?  I mean its used in movies and on TV and stuff, so they must have heard it spoken before.  How did they get this far in life mispronouncing such common words?

(Thats an open ended question, but Im going to go ahead and blame the comic books.)

Barry Allen returns from the dead.

Thursday, May 1st, 2008

They’re doing it.

They’re actually doing it.

They’re bringing Barry Allen back from the dead.

I always thought there were two characters in superhero comics, aside from origin related deaths like Bruce Wayne’s parents, uncle Ben or the entire planet Krypton (and God help whoever even thinks about bringing them back), that shouldn’t be brought back to life. The first character is Gwen Stacy, who taught us that the hero doesn’t always win and that death can be very real in these fictional worlds, and the second is Barry Allen. I sighed in relief when I read in an interview that people talked Joe Quesada, current Marvel Editor-in-Chief, out of bringing Gwen back after the events in his One More Day story arc. I felt we dodged a bullet but, soon afterwards, I started to hear rumors about DC wanting to bring Barry back and now here we are.

My initial reaction upon hearing the news was opposition. How couldn’t I? Barry Allen died a heroic death, more so than any other hero out there. He saved the universe. He is, for all intents and purposes, the first DC Universe saint. He made a few more appearances postmortem via time travel and each one of those instances was highlighted and pronounced by the fact that they were but mere sprinkles of the heroic, Silver Age Flash. Barry Allen is a more powerful character in death than he was when alive. Isn’t he? Or did I just convince myself about this?

Two of the main arguments against bringing characters back from the dead in superhero comics are that it negates the effect of that character’s death and that it’s always pointless because superhero comics somehow always manage to go back to their original status quo. The first argument is a little hard to talk about at this point because we don’t know the circumstances or events that’ll lead to Barry Allen’s return. The second point made me think for a while though. Crisis on Infinite Earths was released in 1985. I was no more than a year old when Barry died. For me, a dead Barry Allen is the status quo. Am I being a hypocrite for wanting superhero characters to move forward while insisting that big, sweeping changes to the status quo should not happen? Because bringing Barry Allen back will shake the status quo of the Flash books pretty roughly. How much change is too much change?

I let these thoughts swirl in my head for a while and then I actually went out and got DC Universe 0, the issue where Barry Allen’s death is teased. Needless to say, my fears where put to rest after reading the issue. It was but a small tease of things to come but the way it was delivered was nothing short of brilliant and has me completely psyched about the potential of this storyline. I don’t know why I doubted Geoff Johns considering the mastery with which he handled Hal Jordan’s own return from the dead and subsequent Green Lantern issues. I do have a couple of things I’m worried about, primarily regarding the fate of Barry’s successor, Wally West, but I’m sure Johns has something planned for him. Killing him off to make room for Barry would be a mistake and three Flashes running around is perhaps a bit of overkill so I’m curious as to how that’ll be handled.

Whatever happens, I’ve grown to accept that American superhero comics are a malleable medium, always changing yet always staying the same.

These characters are bigger than us and we’re just along for the ride.

Bring on Barry Allen.