Mario Party 10 Doesn’t Know What it Wants

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Mario Party is an amorphous shape that wiggles and squirms. Each title has been a reinvention, and I’ve eagerly watched it reinvent. I worked to enunciate my words so that I could successfully use Mario Party 6 and 7’s microphone peripheral, even though the microphone only worked for a handful of games. I learned to love items, or orbs, or candies, depending on the game. I welcomed each new host, from original Toad to Bowser himself. I was, and will always be, there.

I am rambling because I do not want to say Mario Party 10 is bad. I want to say Mario Party 10 is just another example of the game evolving to better itself, but it’s not true. MP10 is more of a husk of itself; it’s molted to the point where just the shell is left.

Many of the game’s major changes come thanks to Mario Party 9, which first introduced the use of vehicles and mini stars. All players traversed the board from within the vehicle instead of exploring on their own. Mini stars replace not only coins, but the iconic golden stars themselves; the winner is the one with the most mini stars, which can be collected through mini games and special spaces. Another big change is that mini games are no longer consistently played at the end of each round. They are instead played whenever a player steps specifically on a mini game space.

This is all too much for me.

Mario Party has been known to change its theme, its host, its games, but Mario Party 10 strays too far from its roots. The boards become the main course, with no room for the dessert-like mini games. I didn’t feel like I had any control over what happened to me or my mini stars, it was all in the hands of the dice, and whoever was driving the party car at the time. Don’t get me wrong, Mario Party has always been about chance and luck, but in the past skill played a pivotal part that prevented the game from feeling too random. Anything that occurs in Mario Party 10 is all happenstance.

Of course, I’m talking as someone who has played these board games for years. I’m not the only one Mario Party caters to. The game, like every aging board game, has changed, and will keep changing.

And that isn’t really a bad thing. Mario Party introduces two new modes, Amiibo Party and Bowser Party to the franchise. Amiibo Mode utilizes Nintendo’s new figurines to play a smaller round of Mario Party. Each figure unlocks different boards or tokens when pressed to the Wii U Gamepad. Place an Amiibo on the gamepad to roll dice or to hit a number block. It’s cute, but clunky. I had to keep both my figure and my Wii Remote in both hands to use alternatively. Between rolling dice with the figures and playing mini games with the remote, I fumbled with which to use when.

Bowser mode is a much more successful category that allows one player to play as the infamous villain itself. Bowser chases Mario’s gang around a board. Either Bowser wins by stealing everyone’s hearts, or the gang wins by reaching the end of the board. This feels much more like a successful take on Mario Party than anything else in the game. There are no stars or coins to collect, but the frantic panic of winning the most hearts or traversing the most on the board brought back the best parts of the earlier Mario Parties.

I miss the obligatory celebration dance when someone earns a gold star. I miss hunting for coins and exploring boards on my own volition. I recognize change is needed to grow, but what makes Mario Party a Mario Party? I suspect those unfamiliar with the game’s history will enjoy this installment to an extent, but there were parts of the original that made the game shine. Some of its identity has been compromised in hopes of being new and improved. The attempt wasn’t really successful. The first Mario Party came out in 1998. It is 17 years old. It’s going through a life change; it doesn’t know what it is yet, and probably won’t for years.

Noir Minus Shooting People

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Hot Tin Roof gives you a cat, a gun, and makes you figure out the rest

Hot Tin Roof: The Cat That Wore a Fedora by Glass Bottom Games is a noir themed 3D side-scroller starring Private Investigator Emma Jones and her feline partner, Franky. With Jones’ all purpose revolver, the two scour all over to solve the slew of unsolved cases that have plagued the world of Tin Roof.

The game is an innovative blend of mystery, platforming, puzzles and exploration. It finds inspiration in games like Metroid and Castlevania yet carves its own identity in with its 3D, noir roots sultry smooth jazzy shadow lighting and snarky dialogue. This is the most enjoyable part of the game, exploring Tin Roof and its civilian characters. It was fun and playful while maintaining a sort of seriousness I expect in a noir drama. Think less like Rockstar’s L.A. Noire and more “Radio Daze,” the Rugrats episode where Tommy, the masked detective, solves the mystery of “The Maltiese Woodchuck”.

The game rewards you for exploring outside of the beaten path, but going off the beaten path sometimes leads to a lot of confusion and aimless walking. Hot Tin Roof‘s world isn’t exactly easy to comprehend, and unfortunately there is no map system in the game. It’s a large enough world, with enough twists and turns, to make getting turned around incredibly easy. Similarly, the game doesn’t provide a solid way to point the player toward progress.

Hot Tin Roof does have a tip system to help you if you’re stuck, but even then those tips aren’t always useful. Further, tips can only be accessed at the police department, so heading back to get a tip is not always convenient. Hot Tin Roof relies on the player’s patience and intelligence to figure out where to go next, but unfortunately my patience wore thin quickly. The game does very little hand holding, which is great when you want to work through a puzzle on your own, but a little nudge now and then would have been appreciated.

I also faced a few issues with small bugs. Towards the end of the game, when I caved and checked a forum to figure out what to do, I discovered that there was a bug that prevented a conversation from starting that would have helped me know where to go next. There were other dialogue related bugs, where conversations were either cut off or didn’t pop up at all, but the developers have been routinely patching the game, so the minor problems I faced are already fixed.

Issues aside, there is still a lot to enjoy about this game. Jones’ revolver wasn’t perfect, but it was a fun tool to play with. Reloading the revolver felt slow at times. There is a shortcut to instantly reload, but it only reloads one specific bullet into each chamber. Sometimes a puzzle required different kinds of bullets to complete, so if I wanted, for instance, two bubble bullets and two fire bullets, I’d have to reload those manually. Since the gun is crucial for the entire game, reloading did lose its luster after the first few times.

But on the plus side, I never had to kill an enemy, and that actually felt really good. Rather than shooting baddies or pointing the gun at enemies to intimidate them, I used the gun to reach high places, burn boxes or find invisible items, among other things. Using a gun as everything but a weapon allowed the game to keep its not-so-serious noir charm. And hey, gathering new clues did feel rewarding, especially if I found them without having to hunt for too long. I may not have always known what I was doing, but neither did Jones, so we had that in common.

Hot Tin Roof does a great job of creating a world I want to solve crimes in. It requires intelligence, curiosity, and most importantly, patience, to solve all the mysteries Tin Roof face. The game is missing a few key mechanics like a map and hinting system that could have prevented the game from being infuriating at times, but even without it I found enjoyment in the city of Tin Roof. There were a few splendid moments where I felt like a real detective, running around gathering search and arrest warrants to capture the poor chump who thought they could get away Scot-free.

The Marvellous Miss Take

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The Marvellous Miss Take is one of the best stealth games I’ve played in a long time. I should be honest and note that the game was released on Steam and GOG back in November, so I’m really late to the party. However, I don’t think Miss Take received as much praise as it deserves, and I want to spend some time to acknowledge how simple and enjoyable it really is.

The story revolves around Miss Sophia Take who is on a mission to reclaim her late great aunt’s collections of paintings that were stolen from Sophia and placed in different galleries all throughout London. With the help of Harry Carver, an ex artist and expert thief, and Daisy Hobbs, a seventeen-year-old loner who can pickpocket anyone in seconds, the group (two women, one person of color, all playable to boot!) becomes the foxiest bunch of thieves in the city.
 

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The Marvellous Miss Take is all about stealing art in the most collected way possible. The game breathes composure. Nothing feels better than sauntering over to a painting after avoiding suspicious guards, stuffing the art into your pocket and slowly walking away as if daring the security to watch you exit through the fire escape. Even the music sways in a combination of smooth jazz and trip hop that contradicted the amount of anxiety I felt hiding behind a pedestal hoping not be seen. If you’re caught, all serenity is lost, and the game ends.

The harder it gets (more police men, more cameras, more guard dogs), the more the game requires silence, patience and thought. Unlike other stealth games, like Splinter Cell or Hitman, violence is never an option in The Marvellous Miss Take. There were multiple times where I wished I could choke the guards into unconsciousness, or shoot the cameras until they broke, or anything to speed through a level without any threats. These were useless wishes, yet it was refreshing to not have them granted. Violence is incredibly common in popular games today; having no trace of violence felt like an innovation.

The most enjoyment lies in the game’s balance. Miss Take rewards players for finishing a level quickly, but also punishes them for going hastily. Running, for example, is tricky because the sound of running can alert guards to a thief’s location and reveal their hiding spot. But running can also help evade security by forcing them in one direction while the player tip toes in another. The key is to always be a few steps ahead of your enemies. Successful heists feel like a game of chess that results in a satisfying checkmate.

As challenging as it is, the game doesn’t come without a few flaws. For instance, I had a guard get stuck in a doorway, making it impossible for me to get out without getting caught. But those issues rarely occurred, and don’t outweigh the enjoyment I had for playing a stealth game that won’t let you leave a gallery after a successful heist without Sophia’s signature, chic sun hat.

The Marlvellous Miss Take is a wonderful game that felt like a brainy puzzle game. It’s combination of chill music, nonviolent action and cool characters created a stylish environment unlike many games before it. At the end, having collected all of Sophia’s aunt’s paintings, I felt as if I really did bring righteousness back into a previously unhip world.

Lindsay Lohan’s The Price of Fame is Pretty Cheap

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It is well understood that celebrities are seen as a species far beyond human. They are glorified and criticized constantly for what they say or don’t say, wear or eat way more than any person should. And because of that scrutiny, many celebs feel the heavy burden of the limelight’s obsession with perfection, and they simply crash and burn. Lindsay Lohan may be one of the best people to understand this.

“I don’t think I realized that the cost of fame is that it’s open season on every moment of your life.” A quote from Julia Roberts popped onto the screen as Lindsay Lohan’s The Price of Fame first loaded. Another quote by Vicki Baum compared success to the North Pole, a solitary, frozen place. Below the quotes is a cartoon Lindsay Lohan, smiling.

This game is not made to define fame as glamorous fabulousness like Kim Kardashian’s hit, Kim Kardashian’s Hollywood. This game, I suspected, would be the antithesis of Kim’s naive look into the daunting task of being a celebrity, and who else but Lindsay to prove this! I was excited to see how Lindsay, someone who has struggled with life in the public eye, would take on the troubles of being famous in a mobile game.

Unfortunately, the seriousness I expected ended at the sobering introduction quotes. The Price of Fame tries to use parody and humor to make its point, and it effects didn’t make me feel anything.

The freemium app is equivalent to Cookie Clicker, a type of idle game where players keep clicking an item to gain more points. In this case, it’s swiping the screen instead of clicking, and earning followers instead of cookies. Fans are treated by the game as currency, so the more fans earned the easier it is to upgrade items to earn more fans to upgrade items to earn more fans, and so on.

In some ways, this mechanic could be used to demonstrate how and why celebrities do ridiculous things in order to garner more attention. The game even makes fun of real pop culture events, like Janet Jackson’s Superbowl Halftime nip slip or selling baby photos. On the other hand, it’s hard to feel as if anything I do as a player in the game has any sort of weight or repercussion. Janet had to post a video apology, her record sales with down due to outrage. It was controversial and outrageous, especially considering Justin Timberlake did not nearly face as much backlash as Janet did. But If I click to have a “wardrobe malfunction” in The Price of Fame, I win over more fans. That’s it. There is no true price of fame, just swiping.

The idle game genre does not do much to make any actions feel significant. There are upgrades that earn fans without ever swiping, and perks that help gain fans even when the game is closed, so eventually the game runs itself. At that point, I no longer need to care about the game.

This is not how I imagine fame to be. If living in the spotlight leaves me emotionally and physically unscathed, why would Julia Roberts be condemning it; why would Vicki Baum comparing it to the chilly North Pole? Why would Lindsay Lohan be slowly working to bring her life back around because of it?

In fact, other than the title, the game lacks any indication that it is, in fact, Lindsay’s game. While it works so hard to poke fun at other celebrities, the game rarely mentions Lindsay herself. It is possible to have “Not Nice Girls” be a part of an entourage, but that’s the largest reference to any part of Lindsay’s career. There is no mention of mug shots, DUI’s or rehab. Lindsay herself shows up spontaneously as a fan, and quickly disappears with a swipe of the finger.

Though, maybe this is what Lohan wanted. She first appears to be a consultant on how to play the game, explaining what upgrades do and how to customize characters, and then she immediately becomes a fan. She no longer has to succumb to peer pressure of a celebrity life. She is watching you struggle, much like others watched her struggle in reality.

Except here is no struggle. The price of fame means nothing when it’s impossible to feel any sort of backlash. While it tries to teach a lesson about the pressures of being a celebrity, the game lacks enough seriousness to make anyone question any danger. Lindsay Lohan’s The Price of Fame does too much for laughs, too little for thought.

Cosplaying As Unsuccessful Escapism: Avoiding Something We Can’t Avoid

To cosplay means to become a human representation of a character. It demands full commitment to a transformation of any kind, from human to alien, from male to female, from pale to the darkest brown. It differs from Halloween, where a trick-or-treater walks up to a door, rings a door bell, chants her phrase and is greeted back by, “who are you supposed to be?” There is no supposing. You are no longer yourself; instead, you are the new expression of your character. It is an escape, a well needed one, from the world’s occasional lifelessness.

Unfortunately, escaping is easier for some, impossible for others. Last Halloween, I decided to break my tradition of telling myself I am too old to dress up. I spent a good deal of time and money on a great costume. I wanted to be Zero Suit Samus. The costume would be simpler to make than other costumes; I’m about the same shape as her (thin), and because her suit is only a blue jumpsuit with minor designs, I knew the work would not be strenuous. I bought the jumpsuit online, and used markers to design it as closely to Samus’s as possible. Obviously, my thrown-together costume would not be as unerring as other’s who have spent months on their designs, but I knew that anyone who was familiar with the bounty hunter would see herself in me.

However, I made one alteration: Samus’s hair. I decided to match my own hair color, black; I felt uncomfortable sporting a blonde wig on my brown head. I wanted to be Samus, but I also wanted a shade that complemented me, in the same way that blonde hair seems to suit Samus. Perhaps if I were white, wearing a wig that didn’t match my own hair color would not have felt so distressing, but knowing that Black people with naturally blonde hair are in the minority, I felt the need to conform, to reject the idea that I could, for one night only, be a perfect blonde. I couldn’t step out of my race and accept the costume, and neither could those around me.
 

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The change in the design sparked a change in how others saw me. Walking around in my costume, I was not Samus; I was “Dark Samus,” an evil version of the hero I hoped to be. Eventually, I accepted my fate as the darker, evil villain, but I wondered how different the scenario would have been if I wore a blonde wig. Clothing and accessories are things I can adjust: skin color is not. Perhaps if my wig was blonde, the conversion from Black college student to Samus would have been more palpable—not only for others, but myself — but I believe even if I wore a matching wig, I still would not have been Samus. I still would be different.

If I limited myself to only black videogame female characters, I’d be stuck with Storm, a variety of Grand Theft Auto side characters, and other people with slightly darker skin tones who gamers have assumed to be black. (I don’t think Ganondorf is black, sorry). Sure, black male characters are more abundant, but if being darker than Samus made me “Dark Samus,” than a black male character will make me a female, male character. I still won’t be the same.

I don’t blame my skin tone for my unsuccessful attempt to escape like other cosplayers; rather, I blame the inability to understand the hardship of the dark skinned costumer. There is a desire to stick within someone’s race, not only from those around the cosplayer but sometimes from the cosplayer herself. If we were to think about forcing races to only dress as characters that match their own ethnicity, how many options would non-white people have? What about abiding by the same gender?

In order to increase the acceptance of interracial cosplayers, we need two things: First, we need more diverse protagonists. By diverse, I do not mean a customizable character. When given the option of creating their own protagonists, gamers will usually design a character similar to themselves. Who doesn’t want to see a version of yourself killing enemies and earning money? The fantasy is not far-fetched, but it prevents any use of creativity. Developers have the ability to create powerful, memorable, and influential people within their art. I want a Black Nathan Drake, a Latina Laura Croft.

Cosplaying, as big as a community as it may be, is really a small part of a greater community of gamers, developers and artists. And it’s all connected, a system working together. Diversifying cosplay can be encouraged if we ask for more diverse characters and force gamers to actively stray from their comfort zone. Currently, there are far more successful developers willing to adhere to the status quo than to part ways. The male, white, brown-haired, muscular, emotion-less protagonist seems to be here to stay. I believe this emphasis on this type of hero is why darker-skinned cosplayers receive criticism. This isn’t to say developers are racist and think dark-skinned people cannot be protagonists; this is to say, however, that there are so many white protagonists that any other skin tone is surprising.

There is no denying that the white, male character is still seen as the universal figure, one everyone can try to relate to. Video games are still at a point where a game featuring a female protagonist is still controversial; a game with a non-white lead, while ground-breaking and exciting for some, will be terrifying for the many who are xenophobic. There are other stories to be told, and different characters will allow for that exploration and contemplation of different cultures.

Eventually, non-white characters will no longer be seen as a specialty, as a risky task a developer placed upon himself. Then, the non-white hero will be admired, like any other character. The admiration will move to the cosplayers who wish to design costumes for their favorite characters, no matter the race. A break from the status quo, a re-envisioning and new abundance of diverse protagonists (minor characters, side characters, and everything in between) will give me, and others, more characters that may look closer in skin tone; More importantly, it will push those who have not cosplayed outside of their race to do so. There will be more interracial cosplaying, and more need for acceptance. Before we can get there, though, we need a push. The push is what we need for a progressive future in gaming, comics and other media forms.

A break from the status quo, a re-envisioning and new abundance of broader protagonists (minor characters, side characters, and everything in between) will give me, and others, more characters that may look closer in skin tone, but more importantly, will push those who have not cosplayed outside of their race to do so. Basically, an increase in differently designed characters will make more people interracially cosplay. More cosplay will lead to more acceptance. But none of this can happen without a shift from the norm.

But in order to achieve this push, we will need a wider range of artists creating these characters. In this case, I’m pointing towards video game developers, but we should not neglect our writers, cinematographers and artists. If the current developers cannot embrace the change in culture, then we need new developers. Since the introduction of technology and computer science, white males have dominated the field. While their contributions have been unequivocally necessary, they cannot represent an array of people without help from others.

A broader group of developers will lead to broader representation within games, an increase in diverse characters, and an increase in different costumes to design and parade in. I don’t want to be limited to only Black characters, nor do I want others to believe interracial cosplaying to be offensive. I would rather like to invite others to cosplay whatever they desire, because it is their choice who they wish to represent. I admire the white Garcian Smith, the lighter skinned Elena, but we must remember that they are just Garcian Smith and Elena. Race specificity is not required. Once more people start cosplaying out of their race, more will accept the fact that I was not Dark Samus; I was Samus.
 

Zero Suit Samus