I just finished The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks, and that's what I'm going to talk about - if you haven't finished it, then be warned, there may be spoilers ahead.
The final boss rush had some frustrating moments (protecting Zelda from Malladus' meteors was tough, as was playing the flute - but I think that's because my DS' microphone is messed up). But the final, final blow, where Link and Zelda have to pierce Malladus' crystal, was a wonderful moment, because I got into it. I was rubbing the screen very hard, wanting Zelda to hurry to assist me, and I was pretty desperate to finish the fight - I was out of purple potions by this point. The fact that we're staring the big bad guy down while we're exercising our (that is, the player's) strength to destroy his head-crystal is also pretty darn awesome.
That all said, the entire final fight was beautifully done - a combination of almost all the skills that the player has picked up, excluding the individual tools (and that might be okay, since the bosses that are weak to Link's tools are replayed through the enemy-rush minigame back in Castle Town). Train combat, sword fights, Phantom usage, even the flute bit, all serve as a kind of 'greatest hits' montage within the final fight, and it serves very nicely, very nicely indeed.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Fame
I just read an interview with Brian Fehdrau by the site Super-NES.com, about his work as lead programmer on the game Secret of Evermore. It's one of my favorite games - yes, even among such greats as FF VI and Chrono Trigger - and one of the first games I played that really made me think that I wanted to (and could manage to!) make games when I grow up.
Now, in the interview Fehdrau also talks a lot about the reception the game has had, both when it was first released and later, in emulation. He mentions that he had trouble looking at the game without a critical eye when it first came out, especially in light of the sentiment of the time - the game got middling reviews and was widely blasted for being a 'replacement' for Seiken Densetsu 3 for the US audience. This was also in an era when there were few, if any, console RPGs made in the US, so the game was also considered to have a 'strange' aesthetic, which didn't help matters.
However, over the years, as the truth about Seiken Densetsu 3 and Square's inner workings came to light (SD3 wasn't coming over anyhow, basically), people have been able to accept the game on its own merits, and it now has a much greater following than at the time of its release, though that following is still small compared to the greats of 16-bit RPGs. This includes Fehdrau, who has seen the growth in the game's acceptance mirror his own growing acceptance, and even love, of the game he helped make.
What fascinates me is that relationship between the game and (one of) its creator(s). Not to say the rest of the interview isn't worth reading - it is, and it made me think a lot about being a new person to the industry, getting that first job, and trying something crazy and hoping it'll stick with the public. But to have a game languish, die, and be reborn - through online shrines, fan-made patches, and even a few stalled sequel attempts - must be an incredible, life-defining thing.
I mean, Secret of Evermore defined my life, at least a little bit. For the man that coded it, saw its flaws as they were crafted and its quirky charm as it grew... Fehdrau also speaks a little about Jeremy Soule, the music man for SoE, and you can see him thinking similar thoughts about the game's incredible, atmospheric music and sounds as they're being created, and the man behind them. Layers upon layers of respect and adulation, here.
I hope, someday, to be able to say that I've had an experience similar to Fehdrau's; that I helped make a game whose fanbase has only grown.
Now, in the interview Fehdrau also talks a lot about the reception the game has had, both when it was first released and later, in emulation. He mentions that he had trouble looking at the game without a critical eye when it first came out, especially in light of the sentiment of the time - the game got middling reviews and was widely blasted for being a 'replacement' for Seiken Densetsu 3 for the US audience. This was also in an era when there were few, if any, console RPGs made in the US, so the game was also considered to have a 'strange' aesthetic, which didn't help matters.
However, over the years, as the truth about Seiken Densetsu 3 and Square's inner workings came to light (SD3 wasn't coming over anyhow, basically), people have been able to accept the game on its own merits, and it now has a much greater following than at the time of its release, though that following is still small compared to the greats of 16-bit RPGs. This includes Fehdrau, who has seen the growth in the game's acceptance mirror his own growing acceptance, and even love, of the game he helped make.
What fascinates me is that relationship between the game and (one of) its creator(s). Not to say the rest of the interview isn't worth reading - it is, and it made me think a lot about being a new person to the industry, getting that first job, and trying something crazy and hoping it'll stick with the public. But to have a game languish, die, and be reborn - through online shrines, fan-made patches, and even a few stalled sequel attempts - must be an incredible, life-defining thing.
I mean, Secret of Evermore defined my life, at least a little bit. For the man that coded it, saw its flaws as they were crafted and its quirky charm as it grew... Fehdrau also speaks a little about Jeremy Soule, the music man for SoE, and you can see him thinking similar thoughts about the game's incredible, atmospheric music and sounds as they're being created, and the man behind them. Layers upon layers of respect and adulation, here.
I hope, someday, to be able to say that I've had an experience similar to Fehdrau's; that I helped make a game whose fanbase has only grown.
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