PopCap's games have always shown a lot of charm, and Plants vs. Zombies is no exception. From clever names to a cartoon art style, the game exudes a level of polish not seen in many casual competitors. The sounds are also quite amusing, though they run the danger of annoying those who aren't watching.

The gameplay starts out at a fantastically easy learning curve. PopCap truly understands the wisdom behind the "easy to learn, difficult to master" casual game philosophy. Plants vs. Zombies starts out in a very simple manner, with few resources and a small playing field. As the player builds confidence, the game expands at a very comfortable rate, allowing the player to experiment and form new strategies without being punished. While this difficulty level may initially seem too easy for experienced strategy gamers, I found it to be perfect for a more casual strategy experience. I beat every level on the first try, from levels one to ten, but there were still plenty of challenging moments to keep my on my toes.

Although the demo is relatively short, the game promises many possibilities and an increase in difficulty. In adventure mode, there is a basic mechanic with several amusing variations. While the main game has players dealing with placing plants and resource management, simpler variations allow players to use their resource knowledge in new ways. For example, one variation no longer gives players freedom to choose what plants to place; the player must choose to place (or not to place) items available for a limited time on a scrolling conveyer belt. This variation in gameplay can be learned in a minimal amount of time but keeps players from getting bored.

Plants vs. Zombies seems to be a clever, well-structured casual strategy game. I found it to be well-worth the time I spent playing it. However, I'm not sure that I want to buy it. I typically get tired of strategy games, and I think I'll stick with the other games I already own. However, I do recommend downloading the demo. After all, this is about as cute as zombies get.  

I'm more of a hardcore gamer than a casual gamer by nature, but I do enjoy indulging in the pleasures of casual games from time to time. I often find casual games to be a nice break from the intense commitments I make to my usual 50-hour RPGs. Like a summer fling, good casual gaming experiences can inspire a sense of fun and freedom that only comes from a short-term, minimal commitment.

I recently tried out the casual game Ikibago: The Caribbean Jewel. Ikibago is not your run-of-the-mill casual game. It takes the usual match three mechanics to another level, much like Puzzle Quest. The game is loosely centered around a the story of a lost jewel. However, the only way to get the jewel is to journey across the high seas and puzzle your way through each level.

The basic mechanics of Ikibago are familiar. The core match three principle is expanded through several variations, such as keys, locks, empty spaces, pattern-making, multiple combos, a moving board, and the unusually flexible piece-switching options. Instead of games like Bejeweled, where only corresponding pieces can be switched, Ikibago allows any piece on the board to switch places with the others. This creates a fun dynamic which allows for a wider variety of play styles. I found that my love of organizing and sorting motivated me to arrange rows of one color each. However, there were many other ways to create combos and get just as many (or more) points.

The overall style of Ikibago was well-suited to the game. The pirates looked cartoonish but not childish, and the bright colors created an upbeat mood. The music was fun and definitely set a nice pirate mood. I enjoyed the aesthetic experience and the cute cutscenes.

Ikibago displays one of the most important traits of good casual games: it is easy to learn, but difficult to master. While I found myself breezing through the opening puzzles, I soon faced a welcome challenge. Ikibago is a polished game experience, with fresh variations on a simple mechanic. I had fun solving the puzzles and I'm looking forward to playing more soon.  

After a few internships and game conferences, I actually know the names and faces of a few people behind some great games. I first heard about MySims at GDC when I met a programmer who worked on it. Then, in the fall, I took a game design class with Robin Hunicke, who was the lead designer. I respect the work of both these people, so I wanted to see what this game was all about.

I have to admit that I am new to the Sims series (unless you count Sim City). However, I do understand that certain aspects of MySims are Sims conventions, such as the gibberish voice-overs. Also, I don't exactly fall into the younger, more casual demographic for MySims, so I did my best to review it accurately given the intended audience. Please note that all comments are based on the Wii version, as opposed to the DS version.

MySims is one of the happiest games I've ever played. All the avatars seemed very excited and hopeful. My own avatar was adorable and skipped around joyfully wherever she went. The entire art style reflects this happy, friendly theme. MySims managed to make everything cute and adorable, from metal detectors to loading screens. This seemed to enhance the game in almost every way. I only had an issue with the cutesy animations when I was trying to point at small features on the customization screen, and my avatar was so excited that she kept bopping around. So instead of changing her eye shape, I changed her hair. Or her mouth, depending on how she was dancing. Overall, it was a rather minor annoyance.

The entire game seems to give players plenty to do and guide them to their goals. For example, when I left my avatar idle while taking a cell phone call (in the real world), a pop-up appeared to help guide me towards my next task. If I were confused, this notice could be quite helpful. The game appears to be set up so players never feel lost and alone in the world.

Yet players don't have to do exactly what they are told at any given moment. About half an hour into the game, I was given a whole bunch of blueprints for items that I could build. By then, I had also learned how to build and remodel houses, prospect (with my trusty metal detector), and plant trees. Resources seemed abundant for those who seek them out. Also, activities are not limited to structured quests or events. I was happy to discover many ways that I could interact with the world around me, from snoozing on a bench to splashing in a fountain (and giggling, naturally).

I think that MySims is generally a decent game, with a careful attention to detail. It seems to be very friendly and well-suited to those who like to explore and build. If I were younger, I think I'd really enjoy it. I'm curious to see what my cousins think, and I'm looking forward to sharing it with them soon.  

I'm always wary of over-hyped games. I first heard about Spore almost two years ago when a fan in one of my classes drooled over an early video. I smiled politely at him and nearly forgot about the game until it surfaced on blogs in full force a couple months ago, in anticipation of its release.

Spore is one of those games like Halo where it's been marketed to the point where even non-gamers have heard of it. I get annoyed when I tell people that I study video game design and they immediately associate it with adolescent boys wasting their lives away, mindlessly shooting each other over an internet connection. Spore is probably a better association, but I'll admit that I've never been a member of Will Wright's legion of fans. I've heard that a lot of girls play The Sims. However, when a girl tells me that she only plays The Sims, I nod and smile and often change the subject. The Sims players seem more similar to those who only play casual games, so it's often harder for me to discuss the finer points of game design and narrative with them.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when the first hour or two of Spore played like a casual game. The beginning was practically a copy of flOw, Jenova Chen's brilliant thesis project that was recreated and released for the PS3. He was hired as a designer on Spore, but it still seemed ridiculous to me that I was playing the same game when I liked the music and aesthetic of flOw better.

After I got out of the initial stage, I was able to move onto the land. The game then became confusing. As a player used to complicated RPG interfaces, Spore was befuddling in its simplicity. Everything had been reduced to a visual representation, but this created a ridiculous amount of tutorial to explain what button to use for each function. Then there was a system to "make friends" with other creatures. I didn't understand why some creatures would be my friends and others wouldn't. Why did some creatures have such steep requirements to be friends? It took me a long time to figure out that each friendly action, such as dancing or singing, had a level. If I had a high dance level and a low singing level, it would be hard to make friends with creatures would wouldn't dance with me. This was completely determined by chance, which was frustrating.

Spore was largely praised for its character customization as well. This aspect also became frustrating. I like forming an attachment to my character and I try to make them as cute as possible. In Spore, however, your character's attributes (such as dancing level or health) can be directly tied to the parts you put on them. I became upset as I had to trade out parts I liked, such as a cute set of ears, for a different set just because it had better attributes. I began to see why a lot of games, such as RPGs with upgradeable armor, will either hide the armor or give you the option to equip cosmetic armor. I wanted more control over my character's appearance without having to sacrifice my character attributes.

Spore has been relatively frustrating for me so far. It hasn't been terribly difficult, but I feel as if it wasn't made for me. I respect what the Spore team is trying to accomplish and I understand their desire to make the game accessible. However, that doesn't mean that it will appeal to a more hardcore gamer like me. I would like to continue playing Spore to see if it improves in later stages. I've heard the real game comes after evolution is complete. I just hope that this game is compelling enough to catch my interest before I get to space.  

Is Kudos a dating sim clone or a truly engaging experience?

Click the link below for Jettoki's and my opinions on another Casual RPG: Kudos.

Casual RPGs, Part II: Kudos  

When someone suggested that I check out casual RPGs, I was a bit skeptical. Could the genre I loved for its immersive qualities succed on a casual level?

Click the link below to read my opinion and that of fellow RPG fan Jettoki.

Casual RPGs, Part I: Dream Chronicles  

When I heard that a little site called Club Penguin had sold for $700 million, I thought that it must be a mistake. This idea that some online community for children could sell for that much money was simply astounding. One of my professors asked me to create an academic presentation on Club Penguin, so I soon had the opportunity to answer my burning question: What made Club Penguin worth $700 million?

I signed onto the site and created my own happy penguin avatar. I was immediately struck by the cute factor on the website. It had a nice visual style that didn’t look overtly “kiddish” (i.e. exaggerated cartoon style or abundant embarrassing imitations of children’s handwriting). The colors were tasteful while remaining bright and cheerful. The penguin theme really worked – it unified the social areas and gave a nice blue and white color theme. Competitor site WebKinz is full of cuteness as well, but the bright rainbow of pinks, yellows, oranges, and purples detracts from the content.

I explored the world, expecting to find a myriad of games. I was surprised to find no advertised game signs to point me in the right direction; I had to hover my mouse over normal-looking objects like a boat or a coffee bean sack to even see the text indicating that it was a link to a game.

With such little focus on the games in the community areas, I expected the social aspect to be booming. Unfortunately, I found that a lot of my penguin peers were not very chatty. Most penguins moved quickly from one area to the next. Some penguins did seem to hang out on the screen but said very little. I tried asking a few questions and consistently did not receive a response until I asked a question a few times. The other penguins didn’t seem unfriendly; they just weren’t interested in long chats.

If all the penguins aren’t hanging around chatting, where is the draw in Club Penguin? As a non-paying member, I had little access to what appeared to be the greatest attraction: the materialism element. Penguins all over the site were dressed in flashy outfits, walking fluffy pets called puffles, and inviting each other to parties at their fancy igloos. Paying members can earn in-game currency through the minigames, which they then use to buy clothing, accessories, pets, furniture, appliances, and technology for themselves and their igloos. The penguin avatars can essentially become walking status symbols.

In order to get the currency, players must log many hours in the minigames. After playing a few of these minigames, I found that the currency was relatively easy to obtain. The minigames are mainly simple flash-based games with very basic controls. Generally, games use the mouse or the arrow keys (with or without the spacebar). I was very surprised to see that there are only about 14 games total on the website – ten single-player, four multiplayer. The games seem very easy at first but quickly become more and more difficult. Fortunately, players can continue to play the easier levels over and over and still receive the same amount of currency. In this way, it caters to a player base of all levels, but those with fewer skills will have to have more patience.

As a college student, Club Penguin does not really seem like my type of game. It is cute and fun (for about half an hour) but it’s not nearly enough to keep me coming back. What I began to realize is that Club Penguin is not a runaway success because of the social element. It’s about the status and fulfilling fantasies; kids want to build their dream homes and ideal wardrobes while playing some fun games. Maybe once in a while they’ll meet someone new, but only if they have time after playing some of those minigames again.  

I recently had to play two "light" MMOs for class: Toontown and Puzzle Pirates. Even if both games were designed for different age groups, the social interactions in each were dramatically different. It seems that Toontown is much more focused on social interactions. One of my first tasks in Toontown was to make at least one friend. I found it very easy to make friends here, as I asked several people to be my friend and almost all accepted. Unfortunately, this ease of friending makes the friendship more hollow.

In Puzzle Pirates, all of my first tasks were independent. While my duty puzzles did help members of the crew (each of us had a duty like carpentry, bilge pumping, and sailing), each was a series of puzzles that I completed alone. The constant “duty reports” reminded me that I was working alongside a crew, but these interruptions didn’t really encourage social interaction.

After completing three duty puzzles in Puzzle Pirates, I decided to explore the town. I went into a building that looked like a restaurant. I tried to check out a few games at tables where I saw one or two people seated. However, most of the activities were limited to paying members. I then went over to a table with a crowd of people. It was a central table that allowed players to access multiple parlor games. However, none of these people appeared to be talking to each other, at least outside of games. The multiplayer games may have had conversations, but the crowd in the outside world was silent.

Toontown had a very different atmosphere. There was much more chatter, from the taunts of enemies to the very vocal creatures at the headquarters. Even if these animals didn’t have a mission for you, they would talk to you. I received several friend requests and even was surprised when a message appeared on my screen later, stating that one of my friends needed help in battle. I teleported to them immediately and found that two of her other friends had done the same. There were four of us in battle, all determined to help our friend. This friend was someone I knew nothing about other than the facts that she was in danger and she had asked me to be her friend. If her other two friends knew as little about her as I did, then the game must have done something special to establish a connection between us.

How does Toontown unite people better than Puzzle Pirates? Toontown keeps everyone on the same side. While you fight against enemies, you can always have a friend in battle and you never seem to fight other players. In Puzzle Pirates, the spirit of pirates reigns true: pirates are out for small crews or for themselves. The activities are more isolated and there are more selfish goals. It does not seem like gifts are encouraged like they are with the big gift button in Toontown’s “Cattlelog.” While I am not opposed to social interaction, I am more inclined to play a game like Puzzle Pirates because it feels much less invasive and the social dynamic is less of a focus.  

When my sister, who doesn’t play a lot of games, tells me I should get a game, I tend to believe her. She had tried out Puzzle Quest on her boyfriend’s PSP and had fallen in love with it. She told me I would love it because it was like Bejeweled crossed with an RPG. I was sold. I picked up a copy shortly thereafter.

As I have been actively avoiding Chocobo Tales, I needed something new to play, so I finally opened up Puzzle Quest. I wasn’t impressed by the opening credits (in place of fancy cutscenes), but the game itself was incredibly addicting. I was going to play it as I got my lunch ready, which turned into playing during lunch and for most of the afternoon. Surprisingly, one of my most difficult moments was trying to get past the training level, but I shortly developed a strategy for battles and beat it.

Strategy is a large part of the battles, which are basically puzzles like in Bejeweled. You take turns moving pieces in the puzzle, so you always have to think one or two moves ahead. For example, matching three skulls causes damage, so you have to be careful not to create a match that would allow your enemy to match three skulls on his or her next turn.

However, even the most sophisticated battle strategy can be ruined in an instant due to the large influence of chance in any battle. There are a large number of pieces above the board that fall in as other pieces are matched and removed from the game. These can be in any order, and your enemy can suddenly do massive amounts of damage or get three extra turns in a row despite your best intentions. More clever strategists plan with this sense of chance, such as matching pieces only in certain rows where it is highly unlikely for a large number of skulls to fall into place and harm you.

Puzzle Quest is very engaging and seems well-designed. It is a pared-down RPG that makes a great game for a portable system like the PSP and Nintendo DS. I can pick it up for five minutes and solve a puzzle. Unlike normal RPGs where it’s a hack-and-slash battle, the fighting system is good for my brain. I play Puzzle Quest to relax and take a break. I really enjoy it and I’m excited to see how it progresses as I continue to level up.  

Today I had the pleasure of playing a game for homework. While I have done so before for the games and literature class I took last semester, I found this one to be particularly entertaining. The assignment was to download a simple game from the internet involving pattern recognition and posting a screenshot online. We were to play for an hour until the game’s trial shut down. The game I played was called Zuma.

I entered this experience slightly skeptical. I assumed that I would get bored playing for an hour. Fifty minutes later, I found myself racing the clock, hoping to get the highest score possible in the few minutes left. I swore under my breath anytime I approached death, and was entirely engrossed in the game.

When I finally did stop playing, I was shaking my head in fascination of the emotional investment I had voluntarily placed in this simple, one-hour game. I knew it was a trial and I knew it had to end. The game mechanics were simple, involving shooting colored balls at rows of similar-colored balls before they reached a target. There were a few power-up options to add a little variety. The music was monotonous but grew more exciting as the balls reached a certain proximity to the target.

How could a game with such a simple premise become so fascinating? It wasn’t the music or the sounds; I had played many such games before without sound and was equally intrigued. The only reward was the score and even that disappeared after an hour. Perhaps it was the fact that a strategy could still be formed. Or maybe it was the clock: a test of speed pattern recognition proving your puzzle-solving prowess.

However, it doesn’t have to be narrowed down to a certain aspect. Each player may find their own fascination with a piece of the game as simple as pretty colors. Probably the most important experience I can take away from that one-hour diversion was that a game doesn’t have to be fancy to be fun; it simply has to engage and entertain.