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Rabu, 29 Agustus 2012

Symphony Review



The Good

  • Levels design themselves around individual songs  
  • Random nature of upgrade system provides some suspense  
  • Six difficulty levels to cater to any skill level  
  • Leaderboards for individual songs.

The Bad

  • Sometimes hard to see enemy attacks in the confusion  
  • Categorization of upgrades isn't very intuitive  
  • Some lag issues.
Symphony is an ideal experience for that peculiar crowd of people who switch on their own music when they start up a game; in this case, it's a mouse-controlled shooter that uses your personal music library to generate custom levels. It's not the first time a developer has orchestrated this waltz between arcade shooters and personal music, though; AudioSurf tackled it in 2008 (although the setup was more like F-Zero than Galaga), and Beat Hazard revived the concept in 2010. But rather than rehashing familiar themes, Symphony distinguishes itself through the appeal of its design, which channels the glowing neon aesthetic of Geometry Wars and pads it with an impressive range of upgrade options. It's not without some flaws, but its energetic gameplay and ever-changing levels render it well worth its $9.99 price tag.
If you don't have mountains of albums in your hard drive, Symphony comes with its own selection of 21 indie music tracks from 10 different artists that range from fast-paced dance tracks to somber piano solos. Most are designed to ease you into the experience with their comparative mellowness, and thus it's much better to push the game's limits with your own high-octane tracks. Relentless beat sprees like New Order's "Confusion" rain down waves of enemies with all the force of a freight train, and even U2's "With or Without You" poses a challenge with its dogged bass line and crescendos. It's a nice touch, since the resulting gameplay excels through shifts between the predictability of the song you're listening to and the fairly unpredictable challenges of the enemies the song produces.
Considered solely as a shooter, Symphony is fun but only a couple of notches above average. Each song generates a level that looks and plays like a classic arcade space shooter in the vein of Galaga (although with a boxed-in arena-style presentation), complete with enemies that hurtle menacingly at your ship and barriers that cause instant death when touched. As with all such games, unfortunately, it's sometimes hard to see the ammo pumping out of your opponents' guns amid all the explosions on the screen. The good news is that dying itself isn't a problem because of infinite lives; what hurts you is the loss of a good chunk of the "inspiration" you pick up after killing enemies. This inspiration allows you to repair your ship and its four guns in the heat of battle, but more importantly, it's the currency for the upgrades you can snag after each round.
That's where Symphony comes into its own. Completing each song grants you the chance to purchase a single boost or weapon for your ship's four slots with your inspiration, and since the process is completely random, you won't have to worry about sitting through one type of song to get a particular item. Sometimes the item may be a "subwoofer" that draws its firepower from your music's bassline; at others, it could be a scattershot cannon that spits out ammo in a broad arc. The only drawback is that the list of upgrades gets impossible to manage after you've been playing for a while--since each upgrade is attached to a specific song, finding that crescendo weapon when you have enough inspiration to buy it largely on how good your memory is.
There's even a story, although it serves little purpose other than to provide some context for the boss fights that pop up every five songs or so. The idea is that a vile entity from beyond the solar system is harvesting the souls of composers and using their music against you, and it's your job to liberate them and your music. That's where the "Symphony of Souls" comes in, and you unlock each of its five parts by battling one of the five bosses that appear in random songs.
As you progress, enemy movements become more complex, new enemies appear, and you unlock six different difficulty levels. The names of the difficulty settings themselves maintain the charm of the whole, as each bears an appropriate name, such as pianissimo, mezzo-piano, and fortissimo. And as a nod to competition, there's a leaderboard feature that lets you chart your prowess on Steam song by song. If you're less into Lady Gaga and Skrillex and more into M. Ward and Steve Earle, you thus have a better chance of dominating your own boards.
Still, Symphony's not without its problems. If you're using an older version of iTunes, you may find yourself unable to play the m4a files that most of Apple's music files come packaged as these days. A quick update of iTunes is usually enough to fix the issue, but the problem persisted on at least one computer even after the update. There are also some minor but stubborn lag issues, which rear their heads when new enemies appear or the tempo changes, even when playing Symphony on the lowest settings. They're never so discordant that they render the game unplayable, but it's frustrating when you lose some of your hard-earned inspiration just because a split-second burp in the frame rate lands an enemy projectile in your paper-thin hull and knocks you out of action. It's also regrettable that developer Empty Clip Studios borrowed so heavily from the look and feel of Geometry Wars; with a unique visual design, Symphony might have distinguished itself from the crowded library of shooters even further.
For all that, though, Symphony is both fun and often addictive, particularly when you experience the wide range of scenarios presented by a massive music library. When it's not bogged down by brief spurts of lag, the mouse-based combat is responsive and fluid. Its unique approach to upgrades gives it enough of a novel edge over its two competitors to warrant some attention, and it's yet another exciting way to interact with your music collection. The worst of its issues could be fixed with a simple patch, and even in its current form, you'll still get more fun out of it than you will from most albums with the same price.

Death Rally (2012) Review



The Good

  • Low price  
  • Easy learning curve.

The Bad

  • Weak career mode is a confusing grind  
  • Soft, unsatisfying controls  
  • Little sense of speed  
  • Boring tracks  
  • Crippled career progression.
Revisit those thrilling days of yesteryear in Remedy Entertainment's Death Rally, a remake of the company's fondly remembered top-down arcade racer from 1996. Unfortunately, it takes less time than you can think "Wow, that's from way back when we still played PC games in DOS!" before you realize that this reboot--which first arrived on iOS and Android platforms last year--is a reject. Simplistic controls, grinding gameplay, and a dull career mode make for a sleepy racer that isn't worth even the $10 price tag.
Basic gameplay is in the same ballpark as the original Death Rally. You drive a car through murderous races set in various vaguely postapocalyptic wastelands, shooting boxes that contain various power-ups like nitro speed boosts, extra ammo, and cash, all while blasting away at enemies. The goal is to either beat the baddies to the finish line in races, killing them in the process or simply roaring past them, or to blow them all up early and often in deathmatches. Solo play and multiplayer are supported, although there doesn't seem to be a big audience playing online at present. And that's pretty much it. Virtually everything beyond these core elements of the game has only been roughed in, as if you're playing a test concept demo.
Career mode is weak. You start off abruptly in a deathmatch-style race where you're told to escape from the cops, which leads you to believe that you can win this race. But you can't. That's confusing enough, but then Tex--a George Lucas doppelganger--steps out of the lead cop car and immediately orders you to compete in an underground Death Rally circuit. There you must beat and kill bad guys in races and face off against some Speed Racer-looking dude called the Adversary when he shows up.
It's all baffling. Why exactly the evil cops are going after this guy is a complete mystery, and there is no set progression through the campaign from race to race. There is a whole roster of bad guys, too, although none are given any personality beyond goofy names like Randy Wreck and less-than-inventive catchphrases such as "You drive like a maniac!" and the always entertaining "Shut up!" (Depressingly, these lines are the most memorable sound effects in the entire game, and that's solely because they are so aggravating.)
At first, this Southern-sheriff punishment sounds better than breaking rocks in the hot sun down Georgia way. It soon turns out that you might want to swap places with Cool Hand Luke, though. Vehicle controls are sloppy and uninvolving. The game is just about unplayable with the default keyboard setup; it's tough to handle cars through corners. Even using a gamepad feels mushy and distant. It doesn't help matters that acceleration is handled with the left stick instead of buttons or the triggers. Racing feels removed, more like you're riding shotgun than sitting behind the wheel. Even firing your default main gun is automatic whenever an enemy or a power-up-containing box is lined up in your sights.

Variety is sorely lacking. Races are quick, uninteresting loops around boring urban and rural terrain. You get the odd spicy moment when a mysterious stranger offers to sabotage enemies for half of your winnings, when you get to drive one of the high-powered cars for a single race for some cash, or when one of the villains challenges you to a race. But these little things just lead to running the same old regular race that you normally would. Visuals are fairly good but are lacking in fine detail and are plagued by problems such as the "name" rival in every race always getting his photo onscreen beside his car, which blocks out part of the track.
The camera work isn't great, either. The default view is just high enough to obscure corners in some circuits, while the lower chase camera swivels around so much that you just might be getting a second look at that omelet you had for breakfast before you cross the finish line. The big highlights are dirt and ice, which make your car spin out more than normal on turns. Even with these thrilling additions to the repertoire, there is nothing memorable about any of the tracks featured here. Unlike in better arcade racers, tracks don't have defining features--you never remember a desert loop as "the one with that killer curve" or an arctic one with "that crazy ice cliff." All of the tracks are as forgettable as porridge, aside from maybe the jungle one where you race over crashed aircraft.
Tracks also feel jammed together. Turns are so close that you don't have much chance to get up a good head of steam. As a result, the sense of speed so necessary to a good arcade racer is almost completely MIA. You can get a bit of a rush with smart applications of the nitro boost, but that's it. Carnage is also hard to find. While a game where you mount cannons atop your hood should offer lots of bloody excitement, blowing up opponents can be quite frustrating. Most enemy cars are incredibly resistant to damage from your wimpy default gun, and your special, more powerful weapons come with small amounts of ammunition. You get maybe a half-dozen blasts with your shotgun or Gatling gun, for instance, before coming up with empty clicks whenever you hit the fire button.
Progression through the game when playing either career mode or single races is nothing more than a big grind. You spend a ton of time racing over and over again on the same handful of sleep-inducing tracks, slowly building your fame and taking forever to unlock something new like a track or a car or even a weapon. There is a thin layer of role-playing-lite career progression in that you collect parts during races to unlock new rides and new weapons. They are either scattered randomly or earned through kills. But it takes forever to get anywhere. Cars and weapons have to be built one part at a time, and you generally collect no more than one or two parts per race toward some piece of hardware that needs 15 or 25 or more parts to be fully assembled. You'll be racing a good long while before you're driving the souped-up Wraith or Interceptor, for instance.
Even worse, you have to blow all of your winnings right after each race. You either dump every cent into immediate car repairs and buffs to key components like speed, armor, handling, and weapons, or lose it. No trips to the local ATM for you. The game actually rubs it in with a vacuum-like sound effect that plays when your cash is sucked up for absolutely nothing if you've maxed out the available upgrades and can't spend any more. Cash lost this way winds up boosting your fame score, which apparently helps move the story along in some fashion as you level up and earn ranks. Still, having to wrap every race penniless kills any chance to strategize, since you can't save up to buy the Gatling gun of your dreams or a killer new car.
Arcade racers generally need to have an on-the-edge atmosphere where death can come at any moment via bullet or screwing up a turn. This new take on Death Rally, however, is more like riding with Miss Daisy, a genteel, distant driver as intense as a late-night cup of chamomile tea. There are just too many flaws here, with the flimsy controls, dreary tracks, and eternal grinding, for even the most desperate arcade gearhead to get anything out of this game.

Legends of Pegasus Review



The Good

  • Large in scope  
  • Brings in lots of elements from other strategy titles.

The Bad

  • Predictable, humdrum storyline  
  • Bugs in graphics, login, and multiplayer  
  • Poor AI  
  • Gameplay bites off far more than it can chew.
You know how pizza places offer "meat lovers" or "veggie lovers" pizzas, where they just cram every single ingredient of a certain type that they have in the refrigerator onto a pie? Legends of Pegasus is kind of like that: it features a lot of elements that 4X aficionados might enjoy in the right context, but they're all just kind of slapped together in a way that doesn't allow them to complement each other. It's pizza that requires a fork and a knife to eat when you ought to be able to just pick up a slice and easily slide it into your mouth.
Legends of Pegasus' storyline relies heavily on tried-and-true sci-fi tropes, particularly a Battlestar Galactica-esque survival/flight theme. At the beginning of the game, you are informed that Earth has been conquered in a surprise attack by an unknown alien force, and a small flotilla of ships has managed to escape through a wormhole. You command that flotilla, and, as luck would have it, you've got a colony ship with you. You need to colonize habitable planets, research new technologies, build bigger and better ships, and fight off constant attacks from aliens seemingly bent on hostility. It's all very hackneyed, including the few plot "twists" that you see coming from light years away.
All that said, the storyline is admittedly secondary to the gameplay, but Legends of Pegasus doesn't score many points for itself there, either. Played on large maps of fictional solar systems, Legends of Pegasus tries to replicate the feel of Sins of a Solar Empire's GUI, but because Legends of Pegasus is primarily turn-based (only battles take place in real time) and because its menus and controls are terribly arcane and unintuitive, it fails to give you much more than a general inkling of Sins' brilliant interface. Zooming, for example, a virtually limitless function in Sins, is strictly limited in Legends of Pegasus. This makes finding items of interest (such as waypoints or resource fields) a laborious, scrolling process. For some things, like your ships or asteroid fields, you can use predesignated icons to jump directly to them, but then you're likely to lose sight of whatever it is you want to be focused on at the same time, also resulting in needless scrolling and clicking.
There's the planet management interface too, wherein you designate what you want your colonies to build and what kinds of resource allocation you want them to have, and you can see what exactly they're generating for you in terms of revenue, science, and ships. This interface is lifted almost pixel for pixel from Galactic Civilizations, but unlike that game, Legends of Pegasus fails to provide you with meaningful information about what your colony-based choices mean for the future. Sure, the game has rollover tips with what each building does, but with limited space to build and an extremely limited budget, it's never clear why you'd choose X over Y.
Speaking of limited budgets, Legends of Pegasus operates in a strange ecosystem whereby the survivors of Earth's demise, desperately escaping from an alien threat, completely dependent upon the shreds of the navy they have left to protect them, are nevertheless apparently charging that navy money for everything from ship building to production of shelters for their own use. Citizens pay taxes to the interim government, but if you raise taxes too high, their morale drops, which has some unexplained further negative effect. This is your only way to make money--without which you cannot build more structures and you cannot build any ships.

Unmechanical Review

The Good

  • Clever, rewarding puzzles  
  • Artistic touches make environments come alive  
  • Has an adventure-ish feel, despite being a straightforward puzzler.

The Bad

  • Too easy to lose your way and get confused  
  • Physics can get annoying.
In the glut of recent, independent puzzle games, how does any given game distinguish itself from the pack? Don't ask Unmechanical, the newest puzzler from Talawa Games. With its inspiration displayed so clearly on its sleeve, it struggles to stand out. Yet it's still a fun and clever game with slick visuals and varied puzzles, making it a stimulating trifle that will occupy a pleasant afternoon.
Unmechanical's story is told entirely through the visual gameplay; there's no text, no dialogue, and very few symbol or pictogram cues. You play as a little robot with a propeller attached to its head, which allows you to fly around the game's levels at will. As the game progresses, you receive upgrades that give you new powers, generally allowing you to traverse new terrain (such as underwater) or interact with physics objects differently.
For the most part, though, you have only one thing you can do: grab stuff. Using a short-range tractor beam, you can pick up rocks, steel girders, flaming balls of death, and mirrors, among other things. Most puzzles involve positioning these things in various ways to solve puzzles and open doors or receive power spheres. The power spheres are used to power Unmechanical's biomechanical devices (many of which look like human organs). Powering these devices unlocks new areas and more puzzles, and reveals, indirectly, the game's backstory.
Unmechanical feels and plays a lot like a combination of Insanely Twisted Shadow Planet and Machinarium, if you know those games. If you don’t, imagine a standard platformer, add a heavy dose of physics puzzles, take away any combat elements, and tell the story entirely with pictograms. Unfortunately, this last part is where Unmechanical stumbles. Often, the pictograms are confusing or outright unhelpful, and you're likely to find yourself at a loss--not because you can't figure out how to solve a puzzle, but because you simply don't know where to go next or what you're supposed to be doing. Eventually you'll get there by process of elimination, but some indicator arrows or other simplifiers would've reduced some frustration.
The puzzles in the game are, for the most part, excellent amd varied, and do a great job of challenging your noggin without being frustrating. One puzzle requires you to play a put-the-ball-in-the-hole game using a gravity-reversal machine; another requires you to search out the right combination of chemical components by observing the world around you and making deductions. Sure, there's plenty of the standard: press-button-with-heavy-object puzzles or bounce-beam-with-mirrors puzzles, but even these are laid out in a way that won't drive you crazy.
It's impressive how the basic themes of stacking and combining themes remain so fresh, but Unmechanical rarely feels like it's retreading territory. There are a few exceptions to the well-conceived standard, however, particularly with regard to puzzles requiring you to balance objects on each other (where the physics engine gets annoying), but by and large you'll find the puzzles enjoyable and clever.
The puzzle diversity is matched by varied, beautifully rendered levels ranging from dank tunnels to hellish magma caves. While there's little in the way of interaction with "living" things (that is, other characters), you'll appreciate the way the artists play with activity in the background and draw your eye to more than just the puzzle you're working on at a given time. Indeed, art often clues you in as to how best to handle a puzzle. Pictograms don't simply spell out answers, mind you; you must carefully observe visual cues.
One early puzzle, for example, requires you to restore power to a lever that has got a severed, live wire. Below the wire is a large pool of water that undulates when an object from the background falls into it. You can solve the puzzle by dropping more massive objects in it, displacing the water up over the live wire and creating a makeshift connection to restore the lever to functionality. Visuals in Unmechanical are more than just a pretty face.
The rest of the game's features focus on minimalism. Controls are easy with either a gamepad or the keyboard, but all you can do is move or grab stuff anyway. Sound and music are unremarkable but competently handled throughout the game, and the story, such as it is, unfolds bit by bit in a way that keeps you interested if not enthusiastic.
Otherwise, there's not much to tell: Unmechanical is a fun and clever game that treads familiar ground. And yet it's thoughtful enough to inspire your intellect and draw you into its world. You may not miss it once you leave it behind, but Unmechanical is a pleasant puzzler that keeps you busy for the few hours that i
t lasts.