I enjoy checking out demos for new games, even if I'm pretty sure that I won't buy the game. I find that you can always learn something from playing a new game, and you can often learn the most from terrible games. However, I can count on one hand the number of demos that actually made me want to buy a game. Fortunately, I had that exciting experience this weekend. I raced to the computer and bought Mini Ninjas shortly after finishing the demo.

I had heard about Mini Ninjas several months ago and I was charmed by the cute teaser trailer. Yet I remained skeptical, as the cutest games often are often rushed out the door with the assumption that kids won't know the difference between a good game and one that needed more time. Mini Ninjas is being marketed as a family game, but seems strong enough to please more discerning gamers.

Mini Ninjas reminds me of a cross between two of my favorite games, Spyro the Dragon and Okami. It has the same strength and charm as Spyro, from the well-designed 3D levels to the
enemies who require more skill than strength to defeat. It is also like Okami, as it appears to have roots in Zelda-style adventures and it is very centered in nature. In addition, the aesthetic is clearly Japanese, which once again appeals greatly to my love of Japanese art and culture.

Combat feels light and fun. There are many tactics you can use to defeat the enemies, which allows for customization in what would otherwise be a fairly simple game. It's a nice change to see a game with solid combat that doesn't shed a drop of blood. Enemies simply turn into animals (as the animals were enchanted), leaving a frolicking bunch of critters at the end of each fight. If you find an animal that you particularly like, the main ninja, Hiro, can temporarily possess the animal. I couldn't get over the novelty of being able to see an adorable animal (such as a kitty), running up to them, and then POOF! I was suddenly controlling a kitty. While many of the most adorable critters are relatively ineffective in combat, some of the larger animals can be used offensively. Fortunately, the developers accounted for those moments when your prancing kitty gets unexpectedly attacked - the ninja will return to fight seamlessly.

Mini Ninjas is filled with other delightfully charming details that make it irresistible for me. You can free animals trapped in cages along the path, which gives you experience points. This reminded me of feeding animals along the path in Okami, which also gave you experience points. Also, when you enter water, you can ride in a large hat (like a boat). You can steer through rapids or, as I saw in a video, ride down snowy passes. You can even fish from the boat, which gives you health-restoring sushi. Even the animations and movements are adorable without hindering the mechanics. The ninja can deftly jump up a narrow space between two rocks, a feature that feels far more natural than any wall jumps I attempted in Mirror's Edge.

I have been looking for a game like Mini Ninjas for a long time. The most recent 3D platformer/adventure game that truly satisfied me was Okami, and I played that years ago. Despite the short length of the demo, I bought the game, optimistic that it will just keep getting better. I hope that Mini Ninjas will prove to be the adventure game experience that I have been craving. In the meantime, it's great to be excited about a new game again.  

While I was working on The Misadventures of P.B. Winterbottom, one of our advisers was a man named Jonathan Blow. He was working on a game called Braid, an independently-created 2D platformer that dealt with similar themes of bending the laws of time. Our lead designer raved about Jonathan Blow's genius and could not wait to play Braid. So when the demo was finally released on Xbox Live, I wanted to give it a try.

Just minutes into Braid, I could see why the critics were charmed. There was beautiful music, a refreshing art style, and incredibly clever puzzles. The opening story was broken into portions that could easily be skipped, if desired. The tutorial was integrated tastefully into the very art of the backgrounds. The how-to tutorial images were simple enough to be understood visually; no words were necessary. The level of polish was clearly obsessive, and the final result was impressive.

I'm not quite sure on where I stand on the whole "games as art" argument, but I'm certain that many of the pieces of Braid are very artistic. David Hellman's art is stunning and quite dynamic; it really pushes the 2D limits and creates a beautifully-animated world. The art fits the story rather well; it's a storybook-inspired style with quaint details like a dinosaur and tiny cannons that fire everything from clouds to enemies. Equally stunning is the musical score. It is lovely and suits the scale of the game. Each level seems to have its own special theme that is thoughtful and filled with emotion. My only complaint regarding the music is that some themes seemed to get slightly annoying when I rewound small portions multiple times in a row (for gameplay reasons). However, this is likely due to my personal lack of skill rather than an error on the part of the composer.

The puzzles themselves were incredibly clever. Unfortunately, sometimes they seemed too clever for me. Even some of the early puzzles baffled me. I'm not sure why, since I love puzzle games. Unfortunately, I felt that some of the puzzles required more chance than skill. Perhaps I was making the puzzles harder than necessary. However, it seemed like some puzzles got very difficult very quickly, and required tediously precise jumps. There also seemed to be some puzzles that necessitated a return later in the game, which is an interesting idea. Regardless, I would've made the earlier levels easier to lure players in and help them develop a confidence through familiarity with the mechanics and conventions of the world of Braid.

However, despite my frustrations with the puzzle difficulty level, I still found some aspects to appreciate. I thought it was brilliant that there is no restart from death in the game; the game can simply be rewound to the precise point a player needs to continue successfully. It was neat to see how certain keys could transcend the laws of time; they magically remained in my character's hand, even through rewinds. The level of thinking required to create these puzzles is certainly admirable.

I'm glad that I played a bit of Braid. I understand why so many critics love it and why it will likely remain inaccessible to a large portion of the gaming population. Like high art, a game like Braid seems to suit a particular audience. I admire Jonathan Blow's efforts, but his game is a bit too difficult for me.  

Next-gen consoles are supposed to be incredibly powerful, but it is hard to measure that power without a test. Ratchet and Clank: Tools of Destruction seems to test the power of the PS3, cramming in as many explosions, sounds, AI, and activities on the screen as possible. It is a slight departure from previous Ratchet and Clank games, but this fast-paced platformer certainly performs well.

I was only able to play through the demo of this game, but I was impressed. From start to finish, the demo was a rush. It takes place in a city with incredibly tall buildings and vertical space is utilized in a unique way. Ratchet seemed to fall far enough be considered fatal, but then he would hit be some sort of trampoline device and he would fly through the air to a new destination.

The game was truly action-packed. There was a plethora of scripted events happening around Ratchet, but many did not directly affect him. It reminded me of the original Half-Life, where I could often look around and see events that could be missed if I was not vigilant. The processor on the PS3 handled all the scripted events and explosions beautifully; the console never slowed me down. The PS3 also allowed for greatly improved visuals - the animation was incredible and felt as sharp as that in a Pixar animated feature film.

Despite its intense pace, Tools of Destruction still preserved many of the best features of the series, including the humor and fun weapons. The characters were rich, as always. The weapons were creative, from a weapon that could morph enemies to a groovitron, which made all enemies in the vicinity dance.

Gameplay was similar to the rest of the series. There were some difficult parts that seemed unbalanced with the rest of the game. Fortunately, there were many checkpoints, so the game was fairly forgiving if you died. Also, most of the gameplay was very solid. There was a wonderfully creative part where I got to use the sixaxis tilting to steer Ratchet through multi-tiered air traffic. It was a fantastic moment of gameplay and an experience that felt strangely realistic.

I really enjoyed the demo for Tools of Destruction. It seems like a great use of the PS3’s power and I hope that the whole game lives up to the high standard set by the demo.  

Whether it’s on a PS2 or a PSP, Ratchet and Clank feels fantastically the same. I admit that the original PS2 game didn't draw me in like Insomniac’s other popular series, Spyro the Dragon. However, Ratchet and Clank: Size Matters is a well-rounded PSP experience that seamlessly translates the ideas of the original games into a portable experience.

I was surprised to hear that Size Matters was not developed by Insomniac. It was the first project created by High Impact Games, which seems incredible given the level of polish. This is easily explained by the fact that High Impact is partially composed of former Insomniac developers.

While I have not had extensive experience with the Ratchet and Clank series on traditional consoles, I really enjoyed playing through the first couple of hours on the PSP. The Ratchet and Clank series consistently demonstrates solid 3D platformer elements, from the intuitive level design to the clever use of gadgets.

Gadgets were a fun and essential part of many levels. The challenges of the levels encourage the use of different weapons, which creates a fun puzzle feel. The hack-and-slash method doesn’t work due to the limited resources, such as the rarity of ammo for the most powerful weapons. Not all weapons are used for fighting, such as the grappling hook. While it’s obvious when to use a grappling hook for crossing gaps, the weapon can be used to move objects in the level as well. This lends a realism to the world and makes the game more fun.

One particularly strong moment in Size Matters was when I got to take play as Clank. He gained control of a small team of mini robots, which I could then control with basic commands. These robots were too short to climb up to certain platforms, so there was a launching device to fling the mini robots to higher ground. I really enjoyed being able to command a small team and then fling them around without fear of harming them. I would feel terrible launching a cat or some other living animal, but these endearing robots felt no pain and bounced around without even getting a scratch.

My only complaint about Size Matters is that some parts felt much more difficult than others. I'd be progressing just fine and then I'd get stuck at something trivial for several minutes. With a limited character improvement system, it became frustrating; I felt that certain parts required more luck than skill to advance. Perhaps I just need to get more familiar with platformers.

Overall, Size Matters was an enjoyable experience. The graphics were strong and the game successfully utilized some of the best mechanics from the console games. It was a near identical to a console experience on the small screen, proving that size doesn’t matter when it comes to making a strong Ratchet and Clank game.  

My sister is not really someone that I’d consider a “gamer.” She likes to play games, but she is very specific on what she plays. She mainly likes fun, short games like Rayman Raving Rabbids, Katamari Damacy, and Guitar Hero. This is why I was surprised to see her come home one day with a big grin on her face.

“I just played the most awesome game!” she exclaimed. “It’s called Loco Roco and there are a bunch of little guys who sing like this…” She then went on to sing in a voice that resembled someone who had just inhaled helium. I just stood there for a minute, in shock. There was actually a game that sang in that ridiculous voice she found so amusing? And people bought it? This was news to me.

It turned out my sister was telling the truth. This game really was about a bunch of happy, signing, rounded creatures. It was a PSP game and her boyfriend had bought it (for himself). They played it together as a bonding activity.

A couple weeks later, I had the opportunity to play this game myself. I was at a dinner party and my sister’s boyfriend pulled it out. The singing started, and it was so happy that I couldn’t help but smile. Everyone else wondered what I was doing, and they liked the music enough to ask me to plug it into speakers so they could listen, too. While the game may seem like it could be a rhythm game, it’s actually more of a normal platformer…except for one thing: the controls.

Loco Roco’s most innovative feature is how you control the characters by moving the environment. Your only controls are the triggers and one button. The triggers tilt the world, much like the knobs on a wooden labyrinth. Pressing both triggers jolts the world so the characters jump. The other button makes the characters either form into one round blob or separate back into the smaller circles. (Of course, they have a lot to say about either of those actions and will shout in response.)

My sister is also in the game story class with me and she presented this game to our class. We were the only two girls in this class, and I was curious to see how our male classmates would receive it. To my surprise, they laughed at the music and were intrigued. After her presentation, I heard at least three boys say how much they wanted to play the game! It is a ridiculous game, but it’s also ridiculously fun. In an age where almost everything is directly controlled, it’s very refreshing to have indirect control. The game feels so original, and, like Katamari Damacy before it, Loco Roco has the power to captivate my sister.  

I had the pleasure of listening to three producers from Electonic Arts (EA) talk about their daily jobs and careers, as they were guest speakers in one of my classes. Each was at a different level (associate producer, producer, and executive producer) and added their own personal flavor to their presentation. One of the most memorable pieces of advice from that evening was the importance of the first 30 minutes of a game. Basically, if you can’t captivate the player in the first 30 minutes, you lose them.

I was incredibly frustrated to experience this first-hand when I began playing the PSP game Daxter with a friend. We were both horribly bored, waiting for an event to start, and had over an hour to kill. I was excited that we had some form of entertainment in the PSP.

I got to play first. There were limited opening cinematics. After a brief introduction, I was set to go on my way. I had never played a PSP before, so I had to get accustomed to the controls. They were fairly intuitive, but I still found myself running in the wrong direction for five minutes before my friend encouraged me to turn back. Why would I do such a thing? The man who gave me my assignment did not help point me in the right direction. I was supposed to go to a hotel, but I did not know that the building I was in was not the hotel. No one told me this.

Aside from the unclear layout of the level (which seemed to get worse, including a very important elevator in the hotel that was placed in a location far to the left), the movement had additional problems. Daxter himself is quite small, and I found myself feeling limited by his narrow view. He seemed to take up a relatively small amount of screen and I found it hard to control him and get the camera in the right spot. While his body movements were animated gracefully, I grew frustrated because I wanted a character that could manipulate the environment more – like Jak.

When my friend took over, he mentioned how ordinary many of the levels felt. He was exactly right. Excluding an unglorified laundry chute (in which you could collect items as you slid down), the platformer seemed conventional to the point of boredom. After finishing this game, what would I have gained? The plot was weak (if not non-existent) and the gameplay wasn’t very engaging. My friend and I both groaned when, ten minutes into the game, we found out that we had to collect power orbs just like in every other Jak game. Daxter’s in-game explanation of this was “Collect the power orbs. It can’t hurt!” That’s really a way to motivate us.

After playing Daxter for a mere 20 minutes or so, my friend and I grew so frustrated that we turned it off. Between running around trying to figure out where to go next and the cookie-cutter conventionality, it simply was not worth our time, not matter how bored we may have been. I would never even complete the first 30 minutes because the first 20 felt like another tired sequel.  

As an aspiring game designer, I knew that I had to play Zelda sooner or later. Embarrassed not to immediately associate the name “Link” with happy childhood memories unlike many of my peers, I decided I could avoid Nintendo no longer. I had always had a PlayStation and never bothered to play Nintendo games (due to the seemingly limited options available for games on their consoles) and had never been a big fan of Mario. Yet the Zelda series kept coming up in class discussions and casual conversations. As an RPG fan as well, I was long overdue to play Zelda.

Fortunately, my professor brought The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker to class today. I jumped at the opportunity and sat down to play. I was engrossed in the game and found the island strikingly similar to that in the original Kingdom Hearts. I played for a good twenty minutes before noticing that a few people had gathered around to watch. I offered to let them play, but was glad when they declined. I was finally getting the hang of the controls and the style of the game.

When a mystical bird flew in with a girl in its talons, I was quickly reminded an article on Shigeru Miyamoto. It talked about his sense of exploration and fun. The colorful world of Zelda held the distinctive, imaginative style that has defined Miyamoto’s games since the original Mario series. I began to see why such a fan base has grown.

An hour later, class was over. Sadly, I could not save my progress or return to play Zelda later. However, I was excited to play again. I even considered buying a GameCube. I would not mind playing that hour again because it was a lot of fun.

When I returned home, another game in the same genre was waiting in my mailbox: Jak and Daxter: The Precursor Legacy. I had an opportunity to play it later in the day. After feeling stressed from the week, I was glad to have a fun game to play (after having rented so many games exclusively for my school project).

This game started out with a lengthy cinematic process. Once into the game, however, it was mainly platformer action. I enjoyed the playful style and friendly characters. One particular task, herding creatures resembling water buffalos into a pen for a farmer, reminded me of a very similar task in the third Spyro game. I player for a couple hours.

However, I ran into much more frustration in Jak and Daxter. I was continually dying, but there wasn’t a limit on the number of lives. Toward the end, I believe I spent about ten minutes trying to beat a boss. I kept dying, but about 80% of the time I died was from carelessness during the simple jumps to get to the boss. I was so angry about losing that I lost my focus. I was so stubborn that I kept at it over and over again, and finally beat the boss. I played a little bit longer after that, and got stuck. I was still upset from beating the boss and quit around 1 a.m. to get some sleep.

After playing both platformers, I began to wonder why one had appealed to me so much more than the other. Both games were made into best-selling series. Both had whimsical creatures and bright, playful levels. The characters and stories were rich. It seemed to come down to the puzzles and difficulties. The Zelda game felt more intellectual and charming, such as when you could discover that you can hide under barrels to avoid getting caught unarmed. The Jak game had more meaningless mini-games, such as catching 200 fish (catch only two of the three types and the speed at which they swim increases) or the animal herding. It reminded me of Kingdom Hearts II and getting frustrated with ridiculous tasks.

While both games may be strong, I believe that they do appeal to different types of players. Zelda requires more of a puzzling mind, where you have to ask yourself how you can use what you know to solve the problem. Jak and Daxter gave less initial guidance but left the world so open that you had to discover things for yourself that had less bearing on mental challenge and left more to chance or physical skill. While both games satisfied my need to run around and collect items, I found that Zelda was more fun, simply because it was crafted like a puzzle; all the pieces were there and you just had to figure out how to use them. I felt like I was respected as a player to solve simple challenges that were attainable with a little thought. With Jak, the action was there, but the cleverness and subtlety was not.

I am not sure whether the fluidity of Zelda was due to the countless iterations and since the beginning of the Zelda series or simply more compatible elements (simple puzzles as opposed to mini-games in the same game type). However, I do think that the Jak games would appeal to players who are less inclined to want to think through a puzzle and simply win by pushing through the incidents of ridiculously menial tasks.  

Crash Bandicoot 2 arrived in my mailbox a couple of weeks ago from my online game rental service. Tonight, I finally got around to playing it, hoping to discover the next 3-D platformer that could hold my interest as the Spyro the Dragon series had earlier this summer.

I played a few of the early levels, trying to get a feel for the game that had spawned so many sequels and spin-offs. As a fan of Crash Team Racing, I enjoyed familiar character voices and the knowledge of which hazardous boxes to avoid. However, I found myself quickly disappointed.

I got off to a rocky start when I suddenly died after running over an armadillo’s tail. I played through the short intro level, collecting fruit from the benign boxes and avoiding the various hazards. Unfortunately, I ran into a lot more trouble on the first full level when a rocky column fell out of the sky, shocking me as another life disappeared. After touching a couple of seals accidentally a few times, I was faced with a mad scientist leering, “Game Over.”

I was pleased to discover a continue option on the “Game Over” screen. I was now determined to try a little harder and not to be so hasty. I entered another level, this one involving platforms over water. I soon discovered that falling into the water meant death, and barely moved twenty feet in game space before dying again.

At this point, I was frustrated and upset. The plot was shallow and weak; I had been sent off to collect mysterious gems for an unexplained reason. This created little motivation. Lives were difficult to acquire yet I could barely hang on to them. There was no friendly “three strikes and you’re out” philosophy after getting hit as in Spyro. Instead, the philosophy was to learn the lessons the hard way (yes, even touching the tip of the armadillo’s tail meant death). Even the controls were less rewarding: the jump feature was rigid and offered no slack, unlike Spyro’s hover and jump options.

The Spyro series is not without it flaws, however. The fourth game, A Hero’s Tail, was created by a new company and doesn’t fit within the context of the first three games. The new developers changed character voices and personalities. This helped me to realize that the jump features and storylines cannot create the game, but instead help to enhance a solid underlying gameplay. When returning to the old classics of the PlayStation, I find that my patience with the less advanced graphics and sometimes less sophisticated controls wears thin if the core of the game is not forgiving in the beginning to pull me in.