Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts

23/12/2018

CHRISTMAS WONDERLAND 9 (PC)

Good grief, is it really Christmas again already? The passage of time turly is a cruel and bitter wind that leaves your unfulfilled ambitions and fruitless dreams tangled and snarled like tattered flags. I mean, uh, happy holidays! And what could be a better way to celebrate the festive season than with a low-budget hidden object game? That’s right, there’s no better way to celebrate. Stop trying to think of one. It’s hidden object games or nothing, and today’s example is Casual Art’s 2018 jolly-old-saint-nick-em-up Christmas Wonderland 9!

(click for larger images)
Yep, that looks like a Christmas wonderland to me. It’s got all your favourite festive treats – petrol pumps, light aircraft, small men on ladders, the works. I’m feeling more jolly already.
Long-time VGJunk readers may well recognise the name of developer Casual Arts, because they’re also responsible for creating my beloved Halloween Trick or Treat series. Those are, naturally, Halloween-themed hidden object games and the Halloweeniness of them is 90% of the reason why I enjoy them so much… but I’m not nearly so fond of Christmas, so Christmas Wonderland 9 is going to have to wow me with its gameplay rather than its aesthetics. I’m already annoyed that Casual Arts have made nine Christmas-themed games but only three about Halloween, so it’s got a lot of work to do.


The game’s “plot” opens with the return of some familiar faces: it’s Mike and Emma, the kids from Halloween Trick or Treat 2. Mike still looks like the version of Sid from a knock-off version of Toy Story called something like Plaything Adventure. Obviously I often exaggerate such things for effect, but please understand that in this case I do find Mike’s face genuinely unsettling. He’s the embodiment of the uncanny valley in Christmas sweater, and I hate him.


Emma also looks creepy, but she’s got more of a “haunted porcelain doll” look than Mike’s “eldritch entity attempts to take the form of a human child to ensnare unsuspecting prey” vibe. Anyway, not content with recently enjoying a sickeningly extravagant Halloween filled with more sweets than Nestle’s vaults, the two most spoiled children in the world have won a competition to visit Santa’s North Pole workshop via a ride on his magical Santa express. I can’t wait until the new year, when the kids stumble across the fabled city of El Dorado during a school field trip.


On to the gameplay, which is exactly what you’d expect from a hidden object game. There’s a list of items at the bottom of the screen, and you have to find those items in the cluttered, tinsel-strewn vista above. Find and click on all the items to finish the stage. That’s pretty much it. In fact, there’s even less for me to figure out than usual because Christmas Wonderland 9 is exactly the same as Halloween Trick or Treat 2: the same layout, the same hint system, even some of the same UI graphics. The only difference is that rather than resembling a jumble sale at Forest J Ackerman’s house, all the scenes look as though they were created by shoving shredded Christmas catalogues into a leaf blower. Not that it’s all Christmas-related items here at the mall, oh no. There’s nothing festive about Uncle Sam on stilts, and the capering clown will obviously be fundamentally opposed to the idea of goodwill to all men. Still, it’s very Christmassy.


In between the hidden object scenes, CW9 serves up a variety of straightforward minigames, just like the Casual Arts’ Halloween games. In this case, it’s a jigsaw puzzle that you solve by putting the town’s landmarks in their proper places on the map. Don’t let this fool you, though. The North Pole in question might seem like it’s right next to the town, but it’s not some temporary grotto filled with families queuing in the rain and a couple of miserable reindeer  – it’s the actual North Pole, where the real, magical Santa Claus lives. If this had happened to me when I was a kid my enjoyment would have been completely ruined by the crushing paranoia that I didn’t belong on the “nice” list, but Mike and Emma take it in their stride, probably because nothing bad has ever happened to them. Well, besides Mike’s face.


As the kids are driven to the train station so they can take the Polar Express to Santa’s workshop, we can take a moment to discuss some of the quirks of the hidden object gameplay. Go and read the Halloween Trick or Treat 2 article, because they’re exactly the same as in that game. See, told you it’d only take a moment.
Oh, okay, here’s some actual information. Some items can’t simply be found and clicked on, you see. Items listed in blue are two-part clues, where you have to drag one item to a specific location, like getting the fuzzy dice from the glovebox and hanging them on the mirror. Items listed in red are hidden behind something, and you have to click on a certain place to reveal them. Mostly they’re easy enough to figure out – for example, it might say “bell” and you find the bell by clicking on a distant church steeple. The optional-to-find golden pumpkins from HToT2 are replaced by golden reindeer, and there are also a few silhouetted items hidden in each scene that you can look for if you just aren’t getting enough hidden object action from the main list.


Toot toot, all aboard the Christmas train, where the kids can enjoy all the luxury and opulence that the Diabetes Express has to offer. The magician not keeping you entertained? Then why not shoot a few hoops with the in-carriage basketball net? This scene sums up CW9 rather well – very busy, extremely garish and liable to make your teeth ache just by looking at it.


Mike and Emma meet some other lucky young kids on the train, including this young lad whose speech patterns and random capitalization of words are the easiest way to identify him as a highly advanced android. Soon he’ll have spent enough time with human children to perfectly mimic their speech patterns. Then the second phase of the plan can begin.


I love this scene-within-a-scene you get when you arrive at the North Pole. It’s just… some old lady. What stock photo or random catalogue did Casual Arts get this photo from? Do you think this woman has any idea she appears in what you could technically describe as a videogame? She almost certainly doesn’t, but I’d love to imagine that she’s the nan of one of the game’s artists.


I was wondering whether CW9 would have its own equivalent to the Halloween Trick or Treat games’ “spooky dooky” catchphrase, and it seems that “Jiminy Christmas” is filling that role. It’s certainly not a patch on “spooky dooky,” which has become a credo by which I live my life. By the way, “jiminy Christmas” is apparently a minced oath, a non-blasphemous was of saying “Jesus Christ.” With that in mind, please imagine this young girl arriving at Santa’s office and shouting “Jesus Christ!” Frankly that’d be quite a mild reaction, if any of the young kids I know are a guide.


The hidden object formula does get mixed up occasionally – sometimes it might be a spot-the-difference puzzle or, as in the scene above, you’re tasked with finding twenty of the same kind of object. In this case it’s carrots for the reindeer. My favourite carrot hiding places are behind the elf’s ear like a pen and hanging over the door like a festive garland at Bugs Bunny’s place. I’m less keen on Rudolph’s red nose. I suppose that yes, that’s how it would look if a real reindeer’s nose was red but I’m so used to Rudolph’s nose being a clown-like red ball that this just looks weird.


Speaking of weird, I’m not sure about this iteration of Santa Claus. He lacks... joviality. The slump of his shoulders, his tight-lipped smile, the way he says ho… ho… ho... as though he’s being forced at gunpoint – this is not a a right jolly old elf. It’s probably because he’s got to babysit these spoiled kids just before Christmas.


Here’s a minigame where you have to match the elves to their Disney-lawyer-dodging names. There’s an elf called Spooky, apparently. How the hell did a Christmas elf get the nickname “Spooky?” Maybe he’s a goth, in which case fair play to him for sticking it out at Santa’s workshop, which is what Goth Hell must be. There’s also an elf called Handy. Let’s hope he got that nickname because he’s good at fixing things and not for, erm, other reasons.


The kids enjoy all the sights of the North Pole, from the elf village to the ice-skating lake to this, the North Pole village where the elves go about their menial labour while the humans mill about the place wondering whether they could possibly eat another ice cream sundae. Not everyone can eat ice cream sundaes, of course. That little baby in the pushchair, for instance. That baby does need feeding, though, so you have to get a bottle of milk from the chair and feed the baby. Just shove that bottle right in the face of some random baby you’ve never met before. Good going, kids.


Santa himself flies the kids back home in his private plane. More ice cream is consumed. Santa’s hands are off the control stick and one of the items on your list is to replace a missing lever. They’re flying very low over the New York skyline. There’s no way that this journey is going to end well; either Santa’s incompetence is going to cause a crash or he’s going to be taken out by an Air Force fighter jet. At least he can listen to some sweet tunes on the plane’s cassette deck before he goes down in a huge fireball.


Their polar adventure has come to an end and the kids are back at home, but this doesn’t mean it’s the end of the game. Far from it, it’s not even Christmas Day yet – but the house is in disarray and it’s up to you to find the things that are “Wrong” in this scene. Both the jack o’lantern and the kids’ mum being dressed as a witch are classed as “wrong,” so hey, screw you, Christmas Wonderland 9. It also says that Dad being in the back garden mowing the snow is wrong, but I’m pretty sure it’s intentional and he’s out there to get a break from the incessant torrent of Christmas tackiness being blasted at him 24/7.
Oh, and this is also the same family kitchen from Halloween Trick or Treat 2. The Casual Arts Universe is far more expansive that I originally imagined. Casual Arts also make hidden object games about being a cruise ship director and a park ranger. Eight games about being a park ranger, but only three about Halloween. Christmas I can understand, but eight park ranger adventures? C’mon, no-one likes parks that much.


I never thought I’d say this, but I feel a little sorry for Mike and Emma. After going to the North Pole and meeting the real Santa, it must be very difficult to drum up any enthusiasm to come back home and help your grandparents decorate their house – but they can’t duck out of it, because now they know that the naughty and nice lists are a real thing and not helping your grandparents is presumably something Santa frowns up, like proper aeroplane safety. Of course, if they’re only doing good deeds to avoid Santa’s disapproval rather than because it’s morally correct, will Santa know? Is Santa’s judgement based on motives or outcomes? Now there’s something for you to ponder while you’re waiting for the turkey to cook.


I’m not the kind of person who feels entitled to certain things in the videogames they play. Creating any game takes a lot of time and effort, and no-one sets out to make a bad game. That said, sliding block puzzles are bloody awful, everybody hates them and if you put them in your videogame then you should be forced to stick a finger in one (1) mousetrap for every second I have to spend solving the bloody thing. It’s a good job this (and pretty much every) hidden object game lets you skip the minigames, because otherwise you wouldn’t be seeing the rest of Christmas Wonderland 9.


The hidden object parts of the game are fine, though. I definitely enjoy them, although I’m aware that they’re not for everyone. I find them very relaxing, personally, and Casual Arts never go down the route of lesser hidden object games by changing to the colour of objects or making them translucent. An honest hidden object game, that’s all I ask for, and that’s what I got. I might not enjoy the Christmas theme as a much of a spooky one, but it’s still kitschy enough to appeal to my tastes, and I appreciate that CW9 isn’t burdened by the inventory puzzles you get in most hidden object games. I’ve enjoyed HOGs with more of a pretension towards being graphic adventure games, but let’s be honest: they rarely get more complex than “use key on keyhole” and sometimes it’s nice to just get on with the I-spy gameplay without having to gather up the five fragments of the shattered magical jewel first, you know?


Most of the back half of the game revolves around Santa putting the final touches on the Christmas preparations – checking the production lines, staring at clipboards, wondering why they still make so many simple wooden toys when it’s 2018 and the kids all want vape pens and in-game currency for Fortnite. They’re the kind of scenes you’d expect to see in a Christmas hidden object game, and it’s making me want to go back and play Christmas Wonderland 1 8 just to see how many ways the developers could recycle the Santa’s Busy Christmas Period concept. Maybe Christmas Wonderland 5 sees Santa visiting a beach in Miami, or perhaps Christmas Wonderland 7 is about Father Christmas realising that the fall of the Iron Curtain means that formerly communist children have now embraced capitalism and are thus allowed on the nice list, meaning Santa has to go on a mission to Moscow. I’ll probably never find out, because I ain’t spending thirty quid to buy all the other games in the series.
So, I’ve been saying that this is the real Santa, but you might not be convinced. The elves could be small actors, the workshops an elaborate set, the whole thing an extravagant tourist trap. I understand your scepticism, but this next scene puts paid to any doubts.


It’s Santa… in space! That’s right, Saint Nick has blasted though the atmosphere and is now positioned in a low-Earth orbit, where he can deliver presents via a system of carefully coordinated orbital bombardments. I never thought “give Santa oxygen” would be a task I’d have to accomplish in a videogame, but there it is on the list. The reindeer don’t need oxygen. I suspect Santa only needs oxygen because of his unhealthy diet and resultant heart problems.


“Let’s wait until 7am and then head downstairs on Christmas morning” says Mike, proving once and for all that no-one involved in the creation of this game has a child or indeed was a child.


The final scene shows the kids opening their mountain of presents in their giant mansion on a snowy Christmas morning as both their parents look on, after having met the genuine Santa Claus. Yes, I’m jealous. At least they remembered to get the dog a present in all the excitement.


Yes, happy holidays to one and all – Christmas Wonderland 9 is over, and while I didn’t have as much fun as Unnamed Dad here, CW9 gave me enough enjoyment that I don’t feel as though I wasted the three pounds I spent on it. I’m a simple man, just give me a few hidden object scenes that aren’t bullshit and the ability to skip any minigames that are bullshit and I’ll enjoy myself for an hour or two. It even made me feel a little more cheerful about the holidays. It’d be weird if it didn’t, I suppose. It’s difficult to be subjected to such a torrent of unrelenting Christmas things without feeling at least a little holly-jolly.


Man, maybe I will see you again in Christmas Wonderland 10. I really hope they expand on the Santa in Space angle. Martians need gifts too.

23/12/2017

MERRY CHRISTMAS (COMMODORE 64)

Merry Christmas – because it’s both a holiday greeting and the title of today’s game, you see. That’s efficiency, that is. Yeah, I decided to cover another quick Christmas-themed game. I thought about playing Alien vs. Predator again and just pretending it takes place in late December, because you can’t prove that it doesn’t, but in the end I settled for Melbourne House’s 1984 Commodore 64 stocking filler Merry Christmas!


With no pointless fripperies like title screens or instructions, Merry Christmas drops the player straight into the action, if you can use the word “action” to describe a graphic adventure. I’m sure you know the drill for this kind of game: type in commands, collect items, solve “puzzles” and move between locations until you reach the end of your quest. In this game you’re playing as Santa, and even though the game itself gives you zero guidance about what you’re supposed to being doing, you’re playing as Santa Claus. “Delivering presents” seems like a solid bet.
So, what do we have at the North Pole? Well, Santa’s Workshop, obviously. The snowbound cottage is a much quainter abode than the city-sized Christmas megaplex from the last article, and as a result it feels much more Christmas-y. There’s also a miserable-looking snowman that appears to be wearing a policeman’s helmet, the actual pole that the North Pole is named after and Santa himself. This incarnation of Father Christmas is particularly rotund, with a belly that’s not so much a bowlful of jelly as an overinflated basketball, but I suppose there’s not much to do between Christmases when you’re stuck at the North Pole, besides overeating and making snowmen.
The first thing I tried was entering Santa’s workshop, but the door is locked and I don’t have the key. Better get to exploring, then?


And this is why polar exploration is a life-or-death struggle against the extremes of nature, folks. I took one step away from the workshop and immediately became lost amongst the vast snowy plains, with every direction leading to yet more snow and the imminent embrace of hypothermia. Okay, not hypothermia. I’m Santa, and Santa has magical cold-repelling powers. That’s how he survives riding through the sky in an uncovered sleigh during winter.
Eventually I figured out that when the signpost appears at the top of the screen, you can head north to go back to the workshop, so let’s do that and have another look around.


I read the sign this time, and it says “digging in the snow is lots of fun and very rewarding.” Kind of a weird sign to find outside Santa’s workshop, honestly. You’d expect it to say “Santa’s Workshop,  all visitors must report to reception, photography prohibited” or “you don’t have to be a jolly old elf to work here, but it helps!!” or something. Who is this sign even for? The elves? Elves aren’t into digging, that’s work for filthy troglodyte dwarves.


I headed back to the snow fields and did some digging. Mostly I just got cold fingers, but eventually, I found the snowman’s lost nose. All right, now we’re making progress. We give the snowman his nose back and he gives us the workshop key, right?


Oh for pity’s sake, snowman. Get it together. Hang on, “lost forever”? The carrot-nose fell off the snowman’s face. Unless the arcane forces Santa employs to travel the world in a single night are leaking and effecting the surrounding area, the nose is on the ground in front of the snowman. Maybe the snowman hates having a raw carrot rammed into the snowy flesh of his face and this is all a ruse to get Santa to leave him alone. You know what? Forget about it. I didn’t even get anything for bringing the snowman his nose, not even the workshop key. To find the key, you have to use the DIG command on this screen. So I did, got the key, and now I’m in the workshop.


Here’s where the elves are hard at working, making toys for all the good girls and boys. Even in 1984 toy soldiers and beach balls were old hat when it came to kid’s presents, but that’s always the way with Santa’s workshop, isn’t it? You rarely see the elves assembling flick knives and molly tablets or whatever kids these days are into. Not that Santa’s totally stuck in his ways, of course. Combining a pile of dolls into a writing mass of blankly smiling faces is going to make some lucky kid’s Christmas morning real interesting.


In the next room are more toys and also a real human child. That can’t be a doll, can it? It looks far too, well, real. Maybe this is what happens when a child near the top of the “nice” list asks Santa for a little sister. Don’t let it distract you from the face on that teddy bear, though. That thing looks like it’s just farted and it’s waiting for your reaction when the smell reaches you.
Also in this room are a pile of letters to Santa and a book with a flashing star on the front, so let’s read those, starting with the book.


Surprise, the book is nothing but an advert for other Melbourne House games! Yes, nothing fills me with the Christmas spirit like the phrases “Grand Larceny” and “Castle of Terror.” The secret of Merry Christmas is that it’s not actually a “real” game, but rather a mail-away offer that appeared in Commodore User magazine. You sent in a coupon plus ninety-five pence and received a stealth advertisement in the form of a mini Christmas adventure game. There’s nothing more seasonally appropriate than using Christmas as leverage to make more money, after all.


I also read the letters to Santa, and naturally they tell you what gifts the children want for Christmas. In this case they wanted cricket bats and dolls, so it’s a good job Santa’s got plenty of those laying around. This is the central “puzzle” of the game, then, although obviously it’s not a puzzle at all and you just have to pick up the right toys. However, this was the point where I had to turn to a guide for Merry Christmas. Nothing makes the festive season sparkle like being made to feel like an idiot by a thirty-year-old advertisement in the shape of a computer game. The problem was that I didn’t pick up a sack to put the presents in. In my defence, as far as I could tell the game never mentions that there is a sack, even after I examined every screen. So, I checked the guide, stood on the appropriate screen and typed in GET SACK. Then I could put the toys in the sack, and now all that’s left to do is get the sleigh up and running.


At least I managed to figure that part out for myself. You can take Santa’s coat off the wall and look inside the pocket to find a silver whistle with “R” written on it. Assuming the R stands for Rudolph and it’s not a musical instrument from Santa’s collection of otherworldly artefacts that’s tuned to the key of R, I reckon this will get things moving.
I can’t believe Santa has a personalised number plate, though. I thought you were better than that, Santa, but you’re as cursed by vanity as the rest of us.


The whistle does indeed summon the sleigh. There it is in the background, coming in for a landing. The rest of the graphics in this game have been okay but I must admit the sleigh looks a bit rough. It’s probably just because it’s in the distance, though. I’m sure it’ll look better once it gets up close.


Or maybe not. “Sorry boss, we just flew in from an Atari 2600 Christmas game and we didn’t have time to change,” say the reindeer. Never mind, it doesn’t matter The kid’s aren’t going to see the reindeer anyway because everyone knows Santa and his sleigh can only slide into your pocket of reality when you’re asleep, to protect you from accidentally witnessing the unfathomable forces that power Father Christmas’ entire operation.
With the sleigh in place, all that’s left is to PUT SACK IN SLEIGH, climb aboard and tell the reindeer to go up and that’s it, Merry Christmas is complete.


And that’s your lot. Like I say, it’s not really a “proper” game, although it kinda fails as an advertisement, too: playing this graphic adventure with lame puzzles, hard-to-find sacks and pointless snowman noses is not likely to make me seek out further Melbourne House graphic adventures… although obviously I’m going to be intrigued by any game called Castle of Terror, so maybe it did work. Merry Christmas was a decent enough way to pass half an hour of a late December evening, I suppose, and hey – by writing this article, I’ve managed to put off making this year’s round of mandatory phone calls to distant relatives. I’d call that a win.

21/12/2017

BARNEY BEAR MEETS SANTA CLAUS (AMIGA)

Okay, fine, why not? Let’s actually look at a Christmas-themed game for once. ‘Tis the season, and all that. I think this might be the first time I’ve ever covered a Christmas game here at VGJunk. You see, the thing is I just don’t like Christmas all that much. Not in a bah-humbug-y way - I’m not against the holidays or anything, I'm down wih the message of peace and goodwill and I’m not the type to bang on about how it’s all become too commercialised, maaan. It just doesn’t really do it for me, you know. I’ve got Halloween for fun holiday times. But Christmas time is here, and maybe playing a seasonally-appropriate game will increase my levels of festive cheer. If I could get up to “holly jolly” from my current level of “trying to plan around reduced public transport services,” it’d be nice – and if I managed to get such a boost from this game, it’d be a bonafide Christmas miracle. It’s Free Spirit Software’s 1990 Amiga deck-the-halls-em-up Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus!


There’s Jolly Old Saint Nick now, sharing his sleigh with the titular Barney Bear. At the front of the sleigh are the traditional reindeer and at the back of the sleigh is some strange, malformed creature with twiglet legs. I think it’s supposed to be a dog. I’m sure it’s meant to be sitting on top of Santa’s sack, but because they’re the same colour you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s a dog with a hugely distended stomach. You shouldn’t have swallowed that canoe, Fido.


Of course, I’ve met Barney Bear before. A few months ago I wrote about Barney Bear Goes to Space, another Free Spirit title created by the same two people and also released in 1990. In that game, Barney went on a field trip to NASA, fell asleep on a conveyor belt and woke up aboard a space shuttle. It was half digital story book and half low-effort activity centre, so I’ve got a pretty good idea how Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus is going to play out.


It’s Christmas Eve, and all through the house not a creature is stirring except for Barney Bear and his dog Skippy. Not my words, folks, but the words of the robotic narrator whose dulcet tones will relay to us the story of Barney Bear, the jammiest little bear-cub in the world. Going to space and meeting Santa in the same year? What’s he got planned for the new year, finding a golden ticket and appearing in Barney and the Chocolate Factory?
Anyway, the narrator has the same synthesised voice as in Barney Bear Goes to Space. I described it there as like Stephen Hawking reading the CBeebies bedtime story, and that’s a description that holds true for Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus.


Santa has arrived. His unfocussed eyes and swaying, unbalanced gait suggest that a lot of kids have left a glass of brandy out for Santa this year. He tells Barney that he needs help at the North Pole, and asks if the young bear wants to come with him to see his toy factory. Santa, my man, it’s already late at night on Christmas Eve. If you’re desperate enough to turn to a bear-child for help, the situation has probably gotten away from you already.


And so off they fly, away to the North Pole – but not before the game reminds you that Barney Bear must ask his parents permission before travelling to Santa’s Grotto. Sadly, you don’t actually see this happen. Barney’s on his way though, so his parents must have been cool with it. The kid’s already been to outer space, he can clearly look after himself.


Before long, Barney and Skippy arrive at Santa’s Arctic fortress / toy factory. I was expecting an architectural style inspired by cosy cottages and gingerbread houses, not the opening shot of Blade Runner, but that’s what we’ve got here. I particularly like the huge flaming pylons in the background. That must be how they burn off the excess menthol from the Peppermint Mines. Then, just when I was getting my head around the weirdly fascistic look of Santa’s compound, the robot narrator informed me that the toy factory “is bigger than your whole city,” a statement that must have made player in Tokyo or Mexico City look out of their window and say “are you sure about that, sunbeam?”


So now we’re in Santa’s Workshop, and that’s where the storybook portion of the game ends. It feels like there was somehow even less to it than the story part of Barney Bear Goes to Space, to the point that I was, like, did I miss something? But no, I didn’t. Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus is both the title of the game and a complete and thorough description of the story.
Before I move on to the minigames, I must point out that while it’s easy to mock children’s entertainment for sometimes looking unintentionally weird or creepy – very easy, which is why I do it – when I reached this screen the narrator said “this is going to be lots of fun” and I swear to god Santa turns, looks into the “camera” and winks. I’m beginning to regret accompanying an old man to meet the slave workforce he keeps inside a city-sized frozen prison.
Okay then, minigames! If you click on certain background elements on this screen you can do an activity. Let’s start with the toy machine, shall we?


It’s a body-parts-swapping activity, of the kind I’m sure you’ve seen before. Combine the head, body and legs of various wacky characters to create the latest hot new toy that all the kids are clamouring for. You’ve got a few different sets to work with, including all your festive favourites – Santa Claus, a robot, a snowman, the Nativity Frog…


Whaddya mean, you’ve never heard of the Nativity Frog? The frog whose croaks led Mary and Joseph to the manger in which they lay the newbon Messiah? His flesh and shorts are the entire reason that red and green are colours of Christmas! You people need to study your Bibles more closely.


Of course, the real function of these body-swapping games is to come up with the most grotesque abomination that you can. I’ve plumped for this terrifying creation. The soulless, psychotic mind of a clown, the immortal body of a robot and the round lower half of a snowman that allows this remorseless killing machine to chase you over any terrain. Well, it’s not going to be any worse that the last couple of Terminator films, right?


There’s an odd-one-out game, which feels insultingly easy even for a game aimed at very young children. It’s obvious which one you need to pick in this line-up. Barney Bear isn’t nearly cool enough to pull off those sunglasses, and when you consider he’s been to space and met Father Christmas that’s a real burn on Barney.


There are a couple of letter games to play as well. One is a simple anagram solving challenge where you must unscramble words like “owl” and “zebra” - you know, Christmas words – and it’s so dull I couldn’t bring myself to even show you a screenshot. It looks almost identical to the minigame pictured above, where you have to find the missing letter to complete the alphabetical sequence. Beige squares, textured metal floors… I feel like I’m belabouring the point a touch but Free Spirit seem to have forgotten that they were supposed to be making a Christmas themed game. Could the letters not have been iced onto biscuits in front of a snowy backdrop or something? The “factory” part of Santa’s Unfathomably Vast Toy Factory is taking far too much of the focus, if you ask me. Although, I did learn that those textured metal floors are called “diamond plate” so I’ve got something out of the experience.


You can also enjoy a rousing game of “Find the Elf.” This screenshot’s from after I found the Elf, by the way. Even the Barney Bear games don’t make it that easy for you. What happens is that the narrator says, for example, that the Elf is in the red present or the smallest present, so you click on the appropriate gift and the elf pops out. Then the Elf says “you found me hehehehe” in the same robotic voice as the narrator, except it's pitched up a bit. This has the effect of making it sound fifty percent more elfin but roughly one thousand percent creepier. It’s the high-pitched mechanical laugh, it sounds like a disturbed robot child pulling the wings off fly-droids.


Probably the most enjoyable of the activities (a weak field to be the front-runner in, admittedly) is the colouring book. A selection of black-and-white line drawings for you to fill in, plus some very basic drawing tools so you can add your own flourishes as you see fit. It might be the best thing in this game, but it’s still a bad digital colouring book. It works in exactly the same way as the one in Barney Bear Goes to Space, and my description of that game’s colouring book applies here: it’s slow, awkward, fiddly to fill in the smaller areas and the drawing tools seem to create shapes that lay on a completely different “layer” to the rest of the drawing, making them annoying to work with. Still, you can colour in some fairly nice festive pictures, like I have done in the screenshot above. I hope you appreciate the effort I went to in ensuring that the stripes of the candy canes are all filled in correctly. If only Christmas spirit was measured by the amount of f-bombs you dropped while trying to colour a finicky candy cane, this game would be more festive than the Queen doing her speech in a novelty jumper while half-cut on Bailey’s.


The colouring book is the part of Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus that you can spend the most time with before the grinding weight of tedium forces you to stop, which is damning with faint praise indeed. But hey, at least you’ve got some nice Christmas-y scenes to look at, like Santa laughing at Barney as though our little bear friend has just told Santa he wants world peace for Christmas.


How about this toy bear? Or as Barney would call it, "a doll," I guess? Little could be more festive than baubles, gift-wrapped presents and teddy bears, even if the teddy bear does have the blank stare of someone who’s just walked in on their parents going at it underneath the mistletoe.


“Mother and father like to wrestle but it makes them sweaty so they do it with no clothes on.”


Your artistic masterpieces don’t even have to be related to Christmas! I made this horrible thing by accident. Okay, the nose wasn’t an accident, but I was a well-behaved child who was far too decent / cowardly to draw graffiti penises so I’m making up for it now. Erm, merry Christmas, I guess. As an apology, if you’re making a videogame and you want to use this thing as an enemy design, go right ahead. It could use its jug ears to fly at you, that could be pretty terrifying, right?


And that’s your lot. A short story and some rather pathetic minigames comprise ninety-nine percent of Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus. The other one percent? Well, on the main toy factory screen you can click certain things in the background and they play a sound file. The clock chimes, the buttons click and whistle and the elves in the background say “happy new year” although it probably won’t be happy for them because they’ll be out of a job. Barney Bear Goes to Space didn’t include much content either but it had more to it than this game – at least you could learn some (occasionally incorrect) space facts. Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus has some half-decent graphics and an enjoyably robotic voice-over but that’s about all it has – and it didn’t even make me feel more Christmas-y, which is all I really wanted from it. Okay, so it made me want to eat candy canes but that doesn’t take much doing. In short, I feel no more or less of the Christmas spirit now than I did before I played Barney Bear Meets Santa Claus, but it did remind me to buy candy canes. Please clap as I unfurl the world’s smallest “mission accomplished” banner.

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