Problems With Old Games: “What Do I Do Now?”

FUCK THIS GAME’S LOGIC IN ITS FUCKING FUCK.
Some things are much better in the nostalgic haze of your memory than they are in your current reality. A few years back I won a small competition to do with a Transformers game coming out on PS2. I won the game, a t-shirt with an autobots logo, and a DVD box set of the first season of the TV series, which I had loved as a kid. The game was middling, and I still wear the t-shirt, but after dropping in one of the DVDs to refuel my memory banks, I wished I hadn’t. While the TV series probably got better when they started to make more money, I hesitate to get any more DVDs to try and work this out. This particular DVD was full of a bunch of cheap japanimation, where many scenes are completely static except for moving mouths. It was, in a word, awful. And my 5-year-old self had thought it was the BEST. THING. EVARRRRRRR. It’s why I recommend revisiting any games you used to love as a kid with caution, because some age well, but others are very much of a time and place that you are no longer a part of.
Sure, I rag on new games a lot, but I will admit that a lot of the changes made to games over the years have been for the better. A lot of games point the way to where you need to go, with varying degrees of subtlety. Dead Space was a particularly good example of how to implement this – you only got a prompt when you asked for it, and it was done in a way in keeping with the total user interface, where health and weapon charges were shown in game on your character, rather than as part of a HUD. Even with games that don’t always push you towards a goal, like a ‘sandbox’ game, you have the freedom to walk around and think, in a positive way, “what do I do now?”, because there’s so many things you can do. With a lot of older games, you get one way to go, and if you can’t figure it out, it’s more like scratching your head, and going “what do I do now?” You’d have to wait for the damn Nintendo Power or somehow come across it through complete luck in the midst of flailing around wildly.
The single example I remember most clearly is in Castlevania 2: Simon’s Quest, where at a certain point, to get any further in the game, you have kneel before a wall while holding the right crystal, before a fucking tornado sweeps you away to where you need to go. I’d love to say that I worked that out myself, but that was a definite example of needing to wait for the guide. You also needed to equip a different orb later in the game to get through a lake without drowning. There is, as far as I’m aware, only one cryptic in-game explanation for either of these, other than that the crystals exist.
Then there is the whole litany of examples from adventure games. I loved and still enjoy (although with less frequency than I used to) adventure games, both text-based and point and click, with moments like the insult sword-fighting in The Secret of Monkey Island still being etched my memory:
“You fight like a dairy farmer!”
“How appropriate, you fight like a cow.”
However, some of the puzzle logic involved only made any sort of sense in the hindsight of having tried combining everything in your inventory, just to see what the game designers would let you combine. Note to everyone: the only person whose mind works exactly like yours is you. Further note to adventure game designers: this means that logic puzzles based on threads that are only connected together in your logic are FUCKING STUPID. Also fucking stupid: having to play ‘guess the verb’ with a text parser. I give an exception to the Douglas Adams Infocom games, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Bureaucracy, because these are intentionally absurd and frustrating. It’s post-modern, people, post-MODERNNNNNNN!
Some other specific examples of What Do I Do Now: The amount of absolutely necessary to advance ‘secrets’ in Milon’s Secret Castle. Having to guess the right order to do the bosses in to make the game manageable in every Mega Man game. The mazes in the original Metal Gear. The…no, fuck this. I’m angry now. Bad memories. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…
Image cribbed from MeriStation.









