Less is More

Fallout, Mission Critical, Shadow Watch, Parasite Eve, Odium, Diablo, Final Fantasy Tactics –I can count the games I’ve finished (work aside) on a pair of hands. Killing Diablo with my gaming buddy Brian Boyle, running through a guided missile destroyer -–Parasite Eve in tow, discovering Cloud in an obscure corner of the Tactics world map –these are my most precious gaming memories.

These games are not, however, the most innovative software I’ve booted, not the flashiest I’ve seen, not even the best I’ve played, but they all have one thing in common. I took the time to learn the game, become the game, and finish the game.

Hold that thought.

A couple issues back Computer Gaming World seriously slammed the not-quite-ready-for-prime-time release of Strategy First’s World War II Online. I don’t blame CGW, WWII’s early release violated the most basic trust between consumer and producer. To wit, “If I buy a product, it will perform as advertised.”

Unfortunately, CGW blamed the wrong people. The fault lies not with Strategy First, but ourselves.  Chew on this... the same issue of CGW ranked World War II Online as one of the ten best selling games in computerdom. Obviously, we don’t care how bad a game is. In fact, we can’t even wait to read the game reviews. If it’s new we MUST have it.

The sales recorded in CGW were bought and paid for long before consumers were warned by reviewers to stay away. You have to think that Strategy First was counting on that. Counting on a culture that tells us we need the newest, the shiniest, the most.

Recall the thought.

What if we played each game to conclusion? Enjoyed every nuance, took our time, worried not about being the first to post, “I’m done!” on the message boards. Worried not about having the newest, but rather enjoying what we have. What if there was no rush to buy the latest console, game, or gadget. Wouldn’t that make publishers make sure they got it right, right out of the box? Wouldn’t it give us the quality products we want?

Who Needs the Game Boy?
I bought a Game Boy Color in 2000. Like everyone else, I had to see what this Pokemon thing was all about. No doubt it’s a clever game, but I soon bequeathed the purple gadget to my kids. They loved playing it on trips to the relatives, and it kept them quiet. At first I considered it a blessing, but grew uneasy as the silence lengthened and the spring dogwoods drifted unnoticed by my Lumina’s windows. It made me think --a dangerous occupation for sure.

We don’t need to live life with our noses buried in a Game Boy (or Game Boy Advance), eyes drilling into our PDAs, or an ear stuck on our cell phone. I’m afraid I’ll miss seeing the girl in the black mini-skirt, hearing a friend’s joke, or feeling the summer sun on my skin. We don’t need gaming on the go, there’s time enough for that at our computers and consoles. Like it or not, there’s a bigger game to play. They call it reality, and it’s more fun than leveling up Pikachu.

Tight Takes
Etherlords plays like a cross between Heroes of Might and Magic (HoMM) and Magic the Gathering (MtG). Heroes explore the HoMM-type strategic map looking for resources and such. When they meet other heroes or unfriendly creatures combat ensues. The skirmishes are like a 3-D version of MtG, and the tactical options are richer than my mother-in-law’s fudge. The beauty of the game stuns me. On the strategic map golems pace through smoky stone portals, fronds bend with the wind, and tiny mine carts orbit their mines. Once combat is joined, lavishly detailed Orc Shamans attack scantily clad heroines.

Folks you have to understand this is turn-based gaming. A genre that has traditionally been a red-headed step child in the visual department. Etherlords is the only thing I’ve witnessed that can rival a Virginia spring.

I promise I’ll play this one through.

© Mark H. Walker, LLC 2001 Mark H. Walker is a veteran interactive entertainment journalist who has written over 40 books including his recently released Video Games Almanac and The Parent’s Guide to PlayStation Games.