Pocket Armageddon

While excellent throughout, Beyond Good and Evil saves by far its most wonderful and brilliantly executed moments for the very end- the last two hours or so. In the sliver of game time remaining after I arrived in the game's final frontier, the story jumped from emotional peaks to valleys and back again, I fought in an aerial battle every bit as convincing and enjoyable as that of a Star Fox game, and, finally, battled a prodigiously huge and mighty final boss (which was all the more impressive given that I spent much of the game sneaking past idiotic, top-heavy guardsmen in leaky armor). A game's ending, like that of a book or a movie, is of vital importance, and BG&E nails it to a degree that few others have matched.

I snatched up Advance Wars: Days of Ruin from Amazon at a much-reduced sale price a week or two ago, and it cut through my lengthy line of games waiting to be played in a decidedly shady and suspicious manner. I've enjoyed it to no small degree thus far- the ridiculously addicting strategic combat is all there, and small but noteworthy improvements (such as temporary ports and airports for refueling and motorbike-riding infantry) are sprinkled liberally throughout. However, the most noticeable alteration- a shocking shift in the series' trademark aesthetic- is one in which the jury (in my case, at least) is still out.

An annihilation of the trademark aesthetic would perhaps be more precise. My indoctrination into the series began with the relatively recent 2005 release Advance Wars DS, but the series goes back much farther than that, having two games on the GBA in the US and a number of even older games in Japan. And one of the first things that'll likely strike anyone taking their first crack at any number of these games is how inordinately cheery they are about the whole war thing. Bright colors dominate every battlefield's palette, cartoon soldiers wield cartoon weapons that cause cartoon explosions, and the list of off-kilter villains includes a vain, bourgeois woman with massive red hair, a proverb-spewing dwarf with ridiculous facepaint, and a smack-talking robot. The games' heroic (and often unusually young) COs don't actually seek out or enjoy conflict, but setbacks for their troops and extensions to the war are rarely greeted by any words more severe than "uncool", and, when victorious, they tend to let loose with the most hilariously bad tag-lines, such as my perennial favorite, "Get the plates, 'cause you just got served!"
The assumption the developers are assuming we'll naturally make is that these games has no intention of even trying to replicate, to any degree, the realities and horrors of war. Rather, they're focusing solely on delivering entertainment and charm, with humor and with style, and doing it in such a way that allows us to wipe our enemy from the face of the earth with increasingly powerful explosives. It is, in short an almost alchemical concoction of joy in its purest state, and it's no small wonder that it's been as successful as it has.

Then, for whatever reason, they killed it.

I won't say the new style is bad, because it isn't. But it's so drastically different! Gone are the bubblegum-bright backgrounds and spunky characters, the over-the top villains and the ridiculous quotes. In their place is a barely recognizable world of destruction and chaos.

Days of Ruin- there couldn't be a more appropriate subtitle. DoR's story takes place shortly after a rain of meteors devastates the world, killing off the majority of the population and filling the skies with an endless cloud of thick, light-quenching dust. The main character is rescued on the brink of starvation by a group of former soldiers under the leadership of an altruistic captain, and the first several chapters of the game are spent in attempts to drive off raiders who have no qualms about snatching up as much of the planet's limited resources as they can. The game is unquestionably dark in its portrayal of this post-apocalyptic world, and it's almost as if the series' beloved, bouncy style never existed.

Soppy as I may be over the game's faded vibrance, however, the change does one or two decidedly positive effects. Most importantly, it allows for much deeper and more moving storytelling. The game's no Dickensian classic, to be sure, but its endearing characters and message of kindness and optimism in even the most desperate circumstances (in the words of Captain Brenner, "As long as there's life, there's hope") give the title real heart, and the epic struggle for the continuation of humanity is perhaps a more thoroughly engaging goal than helping a bunch of young, quirky commanders halt the villainous advances of a grumpy old man in a wheelchair. On the whole, the new style is a neat (and probably timely) departure from the series norm, but I'm not so sure I'd like them to make a habit out of it. Armageddon is all well and good, but I feel that it's with surfer dudes and overly chivalrous knights that the series' true heart lies.

WiiWare has been out in its full splendor for a few days now, and yet only one title, LostWinds, has found its way onto my console. Some may gawk at spending 1000 Wii points ($10) on a title that's as short as it is (most people blaze through it in three hours, so it'll probably take me around five), but they can be assured that what gameplay they do get for their money is cast-iron solid.

-Smashing Brother

P.S: Shortly before finishing this post, I ran into confirmation that a sequel to Beyond Good and Evil is under development (though the title's future remains sketchy). Now, what were the chances of that?