Showing posts with label game boy advance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label game boy advance. Show all posts

20/06/2017

BARBIE AND THE MAGIC OF PEGASUS (GAME BOY ADVANCE)

After playing Golden Axe last time out, I’ve been left with a desire for more magic, mystery and rideable fantasy creatures. Videogames offer plenty of options when it comes to the genre, but which one shall I play? The reassuringly familiar JRPG action of a Final Fantasy? The epic scope of your Skyrims and Oblivions and such? Well, no. I don’t have time for that, for one thing. Instead I’ve turned to one Barbara Millicent Roberts – that’s Barbie to you and me – with the 2005 Game Boy Advance wand-em-up Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus! 


This being a Barbie game doesn’t exactly bode well. The last Barbie game I covered was the execrable Barbie: Fashion Pack Games, which contained neither games nor fashion but was definitely a pack of something. However, this particular Barbie adventure was developed by WayForward, who are best known for the well-liked Shantae games and Duck Tales Remastered, so I’d be very surprised if this was anywhere near as bad as dreck like Barbie: Fashion Pack Games.


After starting the game and selecting my difficulty – I went with “normal,” because even I have too much pride to play a Barbie game on “easy” - the action begins with the shocking revelation that you don’t actually play as Barbie in this game. Instead, you’re in control of one Princess Annika, and it’s her birthday. Why, her friends and family are even throwing her a surprise party! I must admit, if someone threw me a party and invited a polar bear I’d definitely be surprised. Don’t worry, the bear isn’t dangerous, and it’s very much a Disney-movie-style animal friend. “Disney-style” is right, too: Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus desperately wants to be a Disney product, and it’s full of princesses in ball gowns and animal sidekicks, but of course it’s not the genuine Disney article and as such BatMoP (and the CGI movie of the same name that this game is based on) has the feel of a pound-shop knock-off.


Suddenly, tragedy strikes – everyone at the party (apart from Annika) is turned to stone! Fair enough, that’s the kind of thing you’d expect to happen at a fairytale party that’s been crashed by an evil wizard. The wizard’s name is Wenlock, and while he is evil, he’s also horny. He wants Annika to marry him and has eliminated all the competition to make this happen, but Annika’s having none of it. Instead, she resolves to find the Wand of Light, a sacred magical relic that can undo Wenlock’s foul sorcery and save the kingdom’s inhabitants from an eternity of being shat on by pigeons. Thus begins Annika’s mighty quest to retrieve the wand, and what a legendary adventure it promises to be! We can only imagine the far-flung places and perilous locales our plucky young heroine must traverse. Will she travel the briny depths of a bottle-green ocean? Must she scale the crystal spires of the distant, soaring mountains? Maybe she’ll oh wait, she’s found the wand.


Turns out it was in the same room as the party. That’s rather a stroke of luck, isn’t it? I’ll be honest, I was expecting a slightly more involved quest than that but I guess we’re done here. Annika saves the day, and I’ll see you next time.


No, of course not. Getting the wand was just the beginning, now Annika has to walk up to each statue one at a time and bop ‘em with the wand, reverting them to their usual fleshy selves. You can see this happening above. Pay particular attention to the lady on the right. When I first set her free, I misread her wide, slack-jawed mouth as a black moustache, which when coupled with her green cap and denim-blue dress momentarily made me think I’d rescued Luigi from the wizard’s spell.


Having seen that Annika has almost immediately foiled his plan, the wizard Wenlock makes a personal appearance. He’s still intent on getting Annika to marry him. I think that boat has sailed, buster. You probably should have gone with a “romantic trip to Paris” style of proposal rather than “condemn my fiancĂ©e’s loved ones to an agonising fate worse than death.” Also, calling her “dollface” probably didn’t help, although as Annika is a kind of Barbie I suppose it’s technically accurate.
Wenlock reveals that he’s turned everyone in the kingdom to stone, so it’s up to Annika to travel the land, dishing out individual wand-bashings. Oh, and Wenlock turns Annika’s sister Brietta into a pegasus. Erm, thanks, I guess? Even the characters comment that this is very helpful because now Annika’s got a magical steed to travel around on. I’m not sure what Wenlock’s end-game was with the whole pegasus thing.


Now the game proper can begin, and Annika finds herself in the Cloud Palace with a simple mission – find all the petrified people and restore their human forms. To accomplish this, she must perform a bunch of very simple platforming, jumping between the different areas of the (very lightly) maze-like castle and using her wand to set people free and destroying stone blocks that obstruct her path. By combining up or down on the d-pad with attack, you can swing the wand in a low sweep or an uppercut, which is handy for reaching awkwardly-placed blocks.


There are a few enemies knocking about, too. They can also be dispatched with a solid wand-whacking. Presumably they’re the minions of Wenlock, although they don’t seem much concerned about stopping Annika. Mostly they’re just there, and when you take damage from them ninety percent of the time it’ll be because you couldn’t see them before you jumped onto the screen. On the plus side, and admittedly this is the most tenuous of connections, fighting ravens in a castle hallway filled with diagonal staircases and floating platforms gives BatMoP a very slight tinge of the Castlevanias.


There’s not much else to say about the gameplay – hop, wander around, half-heartedly bat aside critters with your wand – until you reach the end of the Cloud Palace’s first stage (of three). There you find a new power for your wand: the “twirl” power, which works as a high-jump with the wand dragging Annika behind it as it soars into the sky. You switch between the two functions of the wand by pressing the R button, and spoilers – this will cause problems later on. For now, though, the twirl power is a welcome addition that provides some variety to the slow-paced platforming.


This being a giant castle, naturally there are secret rooms. If you can find both the key – one of the petrified people always has it – and the door, you can enter the secret room and play a very short block-clearing challenge to unlock a new costume for Annika. So, it’s a secret closet, then? It’s a nice enough addition I suppose, and it’d be weird to have a Barbie game that didn’t involve dressing up at some point. Go on, then, let’s have a look at Annika’s new clothes.


Well, they’re definitely very Barbie.
As I mentioned, there are three stages in each “world,” and while the Cloud Palace does become slightly more complex as you progress it obviously never gets too ambitious. Of course it doesn’t, this is a game designed for young children, and about the most complex part of the Cloud Palace are the moving platforms that travel along clearly-defined pathways. Still, what’s there isn’t bad. Annika controls well, with consistent jumping and sharp hitboxes, and while the stages are somewhat maze-like to facilitate the “hunt for statue people” gameplay they’re never too frustrating in their layouts and you get a counter at the bottom-left that tells you how many people are left to find.


At the end of the Cloud Palace, Wenlock shows up for a boss battle. This really isn’t helping on your quest for matrimony, man. Can’t you just live the life of a regular evil wizard, sitting alone in your mountaintop castle, spending vast sums of money on elaborate candle set-up and binding books in human skin, rather than making me participate in a frankly rather dull boss battle? To win, you use the twirl power to climb on top of the chandelier, which then falls down, hopefully on Wenlock’s head. Do this three times and you’ve won. Wenlock survives, despite having a huge chandelier dropped on his head three times. I suppose I’d better chase after him, then.


These between-worlds flying stages are where you really see the benefit of being on good terms with a pegasus. Sure, you have to overcome the awkwardness of, ahem, mounting your sister, but once you do you can fly around by tapping the jump button to gain altitude, bouncing on top of clouds to reveal the coins they’re hiding. Collect ten coins and win a special prize, namely an extra heart for your life meter and a still from the movie that’s so heavily compressed it might as well be composed of Stickle Bricks.
There’s a flying stage between each of the worlds, all with the goal of collecting ten coins, sometimes by flying through rings or just flying into floating, unobscured coins. It’s a decent change of pace, I suppose, and the developers had to get the pegasus involved in the game somehow.


It’s on to the snowy village for the next world, and already BatMoP has settled into a fixed routine. Find all the villagers in the three stages of each world, collect a new power for the wand and a new costume, beat the boss and ride your sister to the next world.


In this case, the new wand power is a variation on the twirl that carries Annika a longer distance horizontally rather than vertically, and the new costume is the same as the last costume, only green. Turquoise, maybe. Personally, I was hoping for a scarf and mittens. Something seasonally appropriate, you know.
The snowy village is a much more open and expansive place than the Cloud Palace, but fortunately the developers didn’t go too mad when they were hiding the villagers. Normally I’m really not fond of games where you have to collect every single example of something, especially when there’s no indication of where those items might be,  but as long as you remember to look on top of houses you shouldn’t have much trouble finding everyone. It definitely feels like WayForward found a decent balance for younger players, with the statues placed in locations that require some exploration but which are unlikely to become frustrating (partly because the stages aren’t all that big).


The boss battle is against Wenlock’s griffon, which I had trouble getting a decent screenshot of because it spends most of the fight flying around off the top of the screen. The trick here is that you have to bait the griffon into slamming beak-first into the wooden bridges along the path, a la the final fight in Super Mario Bros. 3, and it’s not difficult when you can twirl horizontally to get out of the way. BatMoP makes damn sure that you’re going to do the boss fights correctly – not only does it tell you exactly what you need to do in order to win, but it even removes superfluous wand powers so you don’t waste time, I dunno, twirling upwards when you should be going sideways.


Next up is the Forbidden Forest – although sadly not the fascinatingly bizarre Commodore 64 game of the same name – and Annika’s wand now has the power to turn animals into “plants.” “Plants” is a very loose description for this wand power, and while some enemies like the dangling spiders are transformed into flowers, take a look at the platform Annika is riding. That used to be a small griffon, but our heroine has transmogrified it into a flying log. The log still has a griffon’s face, which raises some disturbing questions about how much sentience remains in the newly-timbered creature.


The main use of Annika’s new flower power is curing goblinism. Some of the people have been turned into goblins, like the one over on the right. He kinda reminds me of the shopkeepers from the excellent SNES adventure Demon’s Crest, but I digress. You’ve got to hit them with the flower wand, which somehow doesn’t turn them into a plant, but rather back into statue that can then be destroyed. It might seem like an unnecessarily complicated extra step in Wenlock’s plan for him to turn these statues into Shrek’s distant relatives, but I’m glad he did – the goblins make grunting noises, so they’re much easier to track down than the other statues.


What else is new in the forest world? Well, there are a lot of tall trees to climb using mushroom platforms, and the flower wand can transform certain plants into springboards for rapid ascents. Unfortunately, they are some of the worst, jankiest springboards I have ever had the displeasure of interacting with in a videogame. When you stand on one, Annika is fired into the air in such a juddering, awkward manner that they feel more like teleporters with severe mechanical defects than springboards, with the “camera” struggling to keep up as Annika moves from one point to another, higher point with no animation or movement in between. They genuinely feel broken, as though someone completely forgot to test them during the game’s QA phase, and it’s especially weird because the rest of the game is technically very competent.
Aside from those things and the new goblin-fixing portions of the gameplay, there are a few new creatures out for your blood. Spiders, mostly. I must admit, it feels a bit strange to be playing as a character that for all intents and purposes is a Disney princess who travels through the forest battering woodland creatures with a stick.


The boss of the woods is Ollie the Giant, and he lives up to his name. By being a giant, I mean, it’s not like he’s kicking out rad skateboard tricks. Ollie’s got a big ol’ sprite, and I’ll say this for Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus – it looks good. Nice sprites that are really well animated and backgrounds that aren’t quite as good but certainly aren’t bad and do their job well without being cluttered and confusing. WayForward definitely went the extra mile on the graphics. I’m getting a bit of a She-Ra vibe from it, which is fine by me. I used to love She-Ra as a kid, which is not something you could really admit as a young male child in the late eighties. But it was basically more He-Man (which I was obsessed with) and it had Hordak in it, so I was bound to love it.
Oh, right, the boss battle. Mini-griffons fly in, you use the flower power to turn them into logs, the giant trips over the logs and hurts himself. I felt kinda bad for the big dope, honestly. He’s just out there in the woods, living his life, until some princess turns out and starts giving him stubbed toes for no adequately explained reason.


The final world takes place in some ice caverns, and fortuitously there’s a power-up for the wand in here that allows Annika to melt ice blocks. Guess what you’re going to be spending most of the stage doing? That’s right, sliding around on slippery floors. Okay, they’re not too bad, because you can use the horizontal twirl to float over most of them.


We’re nearly at the end of the game now, and you know what? On the whole Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus isn’t bad at all. It’s solidly built for the most part, it tries its best to include new features with each stage and I’d say that as a game for young kids it pitches itself at just the right level of complexity. It never gets difficult, per se, but there are some sections that the little ‘uns will have to think about in order to clear, and it never feels patronising or lazily slapped together as so many kid’s games do. There was definitely a fair amount of effort expended on this game, and while you and I are unlikely to be captivated by it I don’t think very small children would have felt cheated had they spent their precious pocket money on it.


It still has its problems, though. There are a few too many blind drops for my liking – in the screenshot above there’s a pool of health-draining water just below the bottom of the screen, and there’s no way to pan the camera down. There were several times when I had to guess that I should be using the horizontal twirl power rather than just jumping, and as I said earlier most of the damage I took from monsters was because I couldn’t see the bloody things before jumping off a platform.
However, the one issue with BatMoP that really set my teeth on edge was cycling through your wand powers. It’s fine early in the game when you only have two or three, but when you’re in the last stage and you have to press R five times to reach the fire power, melt a few ice cubes, switch to the regular wand to free a statue and then cycle back around to the fire power seconds later, it gets frustrating. Any time a monster that I could see damaged me, it was because I had the wrong wand power selected and I couldn’t switch back fast enough – an issue aggravated by the inconsistency of the wand’s powers. The twirling powers will destroy regular blocks but can’t harm enemies, and for some reason the flame wand doesn’t damage enemies either. It’s a real pain in the arse, and what makes it worse is that this situation could have been hugely mitigated simply by having the unused L button let you cycle backwards through your powers. Isn’t this really just an annoying but relatively minor foible? Yes, absolutely. Did it make me emit a near-constant groaning sound during the final stages? Also yes.


There’s a one-off stage right at the end where Annika is chased by a rolling snowball and has to melt the ice barriers that block her path before she’s squashed. It’s pleasant enough, although it’s really only notable for Wenlock turning up just before Annika drops into the icy chute and making a terrible “she’s falling for me” pun.


At last, it’s the final encounter with Wenlock. It’s an odd one, because Annika has already totally foiled Wenlock’s evil schemes. All the people have been freed from the statue curse and it was mentioned right at the start of the game that Annika could easily change her sister from a pegasus back into a human but she didn’t because having a winged horse was super useful. I can’t imagine she’s about to straight-up murder Wenlock, though, so this fight must just be about teaching him a lesson.
It’s a two-part fight. The first part is the same as the chandelier-dropping battle from the first stage, except now there are two chandeliers.


The second half is a three-card monte deal, where Wenlock makes three statue clones of himself and you have to keep an eye on where the real Wenlock is before bashing him with your wand. If you can manage to do that three times – and trust me, you really can, I believe in you – then the game is over and Annika can get back to her opulent lifestyle of leisure and carefree whimsy.


Wenlock finally gets the hint that Annika doesn’t want to marry him. I imagine he’s off to post a lengthy rant on some internet forum about how females don’t appreciate nice guys.


Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus ends as it began: with Annika celebrating her birthday. After she’s turned her sister back into a human, of course. Everyone wants to be the centre of attention at their own birthday party but that ain’t gonna happen if one of the guests is a flying horse.


Well, that was something of a relief, huh? A Barbie game that not only wasn’t terrible on a gameplay level but managed to avoid feeling like a rushed, cynical hack-job. It’s far from perfect, but I think many young Barbie fans would enjoy it without feeling like they’re being patronised, and the graphics are rather nice. Speaking of the graphics, I noticed one Paul Robertson credited for “Character Animation” - that would be the same Paul Robertson who’s a pixel artist famous for his work on (amongst other things) the Scott Pilgrim game, Mercenary Kings and his complex, bonkers promos for Adult Swim. No wonder the game looks nice.
I’m not sure why they called it “the Magic of Pegasus”, mind you. It was Wenlock and Annika who did all the magic. Maybe if the pegasus had a routine where it caught a bullet in its teeth, I could accept that title. I’d have given the game an extra gold star, that’s for sure.

11/08/2016

DEAL OR NO DEAL (GAME BOY ADVANCE)

It is with great... hang on, what’s the opposite of excitement? Indifference? Okay, it is with great indifference that I present for your reading pleasure an article about Gravity-I’s 2007 Game Boy Advance version of Deal or No Deal! Wait, where are you going?

Oh, you decided to stick around, did you? Because I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d left. Well, here you are and yes, it’s a Game Boy Advance recreation of the world’s premier television show about opening boxes and anonymous phone calls. There’s a two player mode! Imagine the incredible odds you’ve have to overcome to find another person with a Game Boy Advance and a copy of Deal or No Deal, never mind a person who met those criteria and was willing to play Deal or No Deal. You’ve got more chance of finding Lord Lucan in your underwear drawer.


Here’s the game’s title screen, but who the hell is this man? He looks like a nightclub hypnotist with a string of restraining orders and unpaid bar tabs. The villain from a bootleg James Bond movie with a title like Target: Silverfire. A man whose YouTube channel is a fifty/fifty split between the clear intellectual superiority of atheism and pick-up artist techniques. A harsh assessment, maybe, and unfair accusations to level at someone I’ve never met, but I’d avoid him if he tried to talk to me in a bar.
Okay, so I looked it up and his name is Howie Mandel and he hosts the US version of Deal or No Deal. He seems like a decent enough bloke. He’s got an extreme irrational fear of germs, apparently to the extent that he built another house next to his house that he can live in when one of his family is sick. It’s a bloody good job for him that he’s a wealthy celebrity then, isn’t it? Otherwise he’d have to build some kind of decontamination tent out of Tesco carrier bags and packing twine. The reason I didn’t recognise Howie Mandel is that the UK version of Deal or No Deal is presented by bearded nutjob Noel Edmonds, a cosmic-ordering peddler of “magnets that cure cancer” pseudoscience bullshit and the man responsible for inflicting Mr. Blobby on an unsuspecting world. I would take Mandel over Edmonds any day of the week.


The first thing you see when you start the game is this lengthy (and unskippable) text crawl which reminds the player that, amongst other things, they’re playing a game and that no real money is involved. Well, that’s one award Deal or No Deal has in the bag: Most Patronising Videogame. It does make you wonder whether the developers have had trouble with this situation before, though. Maybe they knocked out a Who Wants to be a Millionaire game and people kept turning up at their offices with photocopies of their GBA screens and demands for a massive cheque.


You know when I said Howie Mandel looks like a Bond villain? Yeah. A villain who wants revenge on 007 for supergluing his fingers together. “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to fetch me a bottle of nail polish remover.”


Howie then unleashes his rather unnerving army of faceless mannequins, each of them carrying a numbered case. He refers to them as his “26 better halves,” which by my calculations means there are thirteen and a half Howie Mandels out there. That seems like too many Mandels for one planet to sustain.


Now I have to pick a case. I went for number thirteen in defiance of superstition, and because I felt sorry for lady number thirteen because she doesn’t quite fit on the screen. Deal or No Deal is a good illustration of the differences between the cultures of the USA and Britain: the US version has shiny metal cases presented by a group of glamorous women, where as in the British Deal or No Deal the boxes are plain red cubes controlled by bog-standard members of the public. We are but a simple island nation, after all.


So, how does Deal or No Deal work, then? Essentially, it’s a guessing game. Each case contains a cash value, and your goal is to leave with as much money as possible. What happens is that you pick some cases to open, and the cash values contained within are eliminated from the game. After a while, the mysterious banker will call you on a special telephone and make you an offer, based on the values still in play. So, you want to eliminate the lowest values first, pushing up the average of the remaining values so that the banker offers you a more lucrative deal. Or you can just open all the cases and stick with what’s in the case you chose if you’re feeling especially brave. Showing the lack of imagination that’s plagued me for my entire life, I elected to start with case number one.


Well, that couldn’t have gone much better, could it? The lowest possible value, eliminated with my first pick. The banker must be bricking it.


And so on it goes, with the player picking six boxes to open in the first round and enjoying – sorry, enduring – the case-opening animation every time. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the person responsible for this game’s graphics did not work as hard as perhaps they might have. I mean, it’s a videogame, you’re freed from the restrictions of television and limited only by your imagination! Instead of a case, you could have placed the number inside the abdomen of a giant space lizard and had an astro-barbarian hack his way to the number with his laser-axe. Okay, that’s just a first draft, but you get the idea. If I’d wanted to see this many cases being opened I’d have applied for a job at airport security.


The first round is over, and it went rather well. All the biggest numbers are still in play, so I’m in line for a good result. Time to hear the banker’s offer, then.


That’s one heck of a telephone, arriving in 2007 after a time-portal opened up during the filming of a Duran Duran video. I would unashamedly have that telephone in my house.


The banker’s offer was a derisory $34,000. What’s worse, the game actually does that bloody “pause for dramatic effect” thing that TV shows do in these situations. Well screw you, Deal or No Deal, because I’m playing this on an emulator with a fast-forward feature, so I win this round. As much as anyone who’s playing a GBA version of Deal or No Deal can be considered a winner, anyway.


Obviously I didn’t take the deal, so that means another few cases to open before the banker makes a new offer, the cycle repeating until my incredible box-choosing skills meant I’d played just about the perfect game of Deal or No Deal. Trust me, I’ve got my legal team going through that disclaimer at the start with a fine-toothed comb, searching for a way that I can leverage my talent for guessing into cold, hard cash.


In the end, I made a deal for $330,000. Turns out my box only contained two hundred bucks. How thrilling.
That’s about it for the main “Deal or No Deal” game mode. My conclusions? It’s about as accurate a videogame version of the game show as you could hope for. It plays Deal or No Deal. If you want to play Deal or No Deal for non-fabuolous imaginary cash prizes while sitting on the toilet then this is a perfectly acceptable way to capture that experience – although I’m sure there must be a mobile phone version, that’d probably be easier these days. At least you’d be able to see the screen properly, something certainly not guaranteed when using a GBA.
As for the non-gameplay stuff, it’s a mixed bag. One impressive feature is that there’s a lot of digitised speech from Howie Mandel crammed into the cartridge, and it’s very crisp and easy to hear. You could argue it’s easy to get that much speech in there when the game itself must surely take up next to no space, but still. As for the graphics… well, you’ve seen them. They’re pretty horrendous, grainier than a year’s subscription to Wheat Farmers Weekly magazine and lacking any kind of flair. Particularly challenging on the eye is Mandel’s 3D model, especially in motion.


There is something genuinely unnerving about the way his facial features slide around on his egg-like head, as though his expressions are formed by a highly-coordinated colony of amoebas that are always on the move.


The fun doesn’t stop there, though! There are two other game modes included, in the incredibly unlikely event that you somehow become bored with the main game. The first is the Vault Game, the goal of which is to crack the combination to said vault. You pick three numbers – represented, of course, by the cases from the main game – and you’re then told whether each number was higher or lower than the correct combination. You use this information to make another, more informed guess, until you arrive at the correct code to open the vault. The amount of money you win (and, just to make this perfectly clear, this is not real money and the developers will not give you any real money) decreases with each unsuccessful guess. Is it any fun? As a tiny lockpicking minigame in a different, better game it would be okay, but as a standalone thing it’ll keep you interested on a timescale usually only used by scientists tracking subatomic particle interactions.


The other minigame is High or Low. Open a case, then guess whether the next case's cash value will be higher or lower than the previous number. It’s one hell of an achievement to keep making games that are each more boring than the last considered the level they started at, but Deal or No Deal is extraordinary in that regard. You don’t even get a special congratulations screen if you manage to guess correctly for every single case in High or Low, something which I managed to do on my very first attempt. I put this down to spending so long trying to scrounge up cash in God Hand via the video poker game.


I don’t think I’ve ever written about a game with so little need for a concluding paragraph, but I’d feel weird not including one, so here it is. Deal or No Deal is a game that perfectly recreates the mechanics of the game show but without any of the tension and potential schadenfreude that comes from seeing someone gamble away the chance at winning a life-changing sum of money. If you like Deal or No Deal enough for that concept to excite you then hey, this is the game for you, although I will point out you can recreate the game yourself at home by using folded bits of paper and having someone shout a number at you every now and then. It also gets extra points for not including Noel Edmonds.

06/12/2014

POSTMAN PAT AND THE GREENDALE ROCKET (GAME BOY ADVANCE)

Postman Pat, Postman Pat, Postman Pat ran over his cat. Blood and guts went flying, everyone was crying, Postman Pat's a very happy man. Those were the alternate lyrics to the Postman Pat theme song that we used to sing as kids, because that's what kids do with songs. I know a rousing chorus of "he's got the whole world in his pants" was enough to see me through many primary school hymn sessions. Yes, it's every child's favourite postal deliver worker Postman Pat, starring today in Neko Entertainment's 2007 Game Boy Advance Royal-Mail-em-up Postman Pat and the Greendale Rocket!


Postman Pat is a British kid's show about a postman named Pat. That's really all there is to it, or at least it was when I was young - these days Pat works for the Special Delivery Service and has a helicopter, apparently. The Postman Pat from my childhood did nothing more strenuous than pootle around the village in his little van, delivering mail and dealing with minor inconveniences like fallen trees blocking the road and letters getting wet in the rain. When I say "dealing with them," I mean he manages to deliver the parcel instead of just posting a "sorry you were out" notice through the letterbox without knocking like any other Royal Mail employee. Pat's most striking physical feature is his head, a cylindrical flesh-tube sporting a nose the size of Pinocchio's after the wooden boy tried to explain to his dad that he was just holding onto the weed for a friend.


The Greendale Rocket of the title is not, sadly, a space rocket. Pat will not be the first person to deliver junk mail to the moon - that honour will go to the brave astro-couriers of the twenty-third century, who will risk their lives to make sure the Sea of Tranquility never runs low on takeaway menus and offers on cheap double glazing. No, the Greendale Rocket is a steam train. The Greendale Rocket does not seem to be working - hardly surprising given that it's a steam train and this game is presumably set in 2007 - and the overall aim of the game is to get it running again.


Pat is ready to help everybody on this major engineering and restoration project, where no doubt his skills of driving a van and walking up garden paths will come in very useful.


So, Postman Pat and the Greendale Rocket is another of those made-for-kids, low-effort affairs that I've become oh so familiar with over the years, but unlike games such as NSYNC: Get to the Show and Diva Starz: Mall Mania, PPatGR is quite heavily based around platforming action. Okay,"action" is far too strong a word. Let's go with "platform meandering". There are still plenty of mingames - shovelware developers of the 2000s were apparently unshakable in their conviction that the young 'uns wanted an endless parade of assorted inconsequential fluff - but jumping around the village and collecting stamps, letters and parcels makes up the majority of the gameplay.
It really is just jumping, too, and Pat has even less moves than Super Mario because at least Mario can run. All Pat can do is hop into the air and (very occasionally) push an object by walking into it. Everything in the game - the platforming, the minigames, advancing the on-screen text - is controlled using only the d-pad and the A button. Simplicity in a videogame can be refreshing. In this case it is not. Pat's jumping controls are responsive, at least, but then you'd bloody well hope so with only one button to manage.


After a while spent wandering to the right, I came across a trough filled with water, or possibly a communal swimming pool. Those things on the side look like diving boards, at any rate. The mystery of why a small English country village has a swimming pool in the middle of the pavement aside, it was too big for Pat to jump across and so I thought hey, maybe Pat can swim?


Pat cannot swim. He cannot even survive the merest dunking, and contact with water causes him to die instantly. Perhaps he suffered an immediate brain aneurysm at the thought of all the paperwork he'd have to fill out to explain his now-waterlogged cargo of mail. "Royal Mail Damaged Mail Insurance Form Question 1: How did the damage occur? Answer: I jumped fully-clothed into a swimming pool. I'm fired, aren't I?"
The solution to this watery obstacle comes in the form of Pat's black-and-white cat Jess. Jess is waiting near the pool, and when you walk near him control switches from Pat to Jess. Great, I thought, cats are agile creatures, so Jess can surely make this jump.


Jess cannot make the jump. I'm beginning to suspect that this pool is not even filled with water but a powerful mutagen. I think Jess is halfway to turning into a cat version of the Joker in the image above.


No, the real solution is to use Jess' cat powers to climb up this drainpipe. Then you can jump across the rooftops and activate the totally normal platform made from extremely common floating rocks. Hey, I've spent plenty of time in small villages in the Yorkshire Dales and I can confirm that outdoor swimming pools with mysterious hovering boulders over them are as common a sight as hikers in questionable shorts.
With the platform moved into position, control returns to Pat, who can continue on his journey. The occasional need to take control of Jess, either to climb up something or to walk through a small passageway, is about as far as PPatGR goes toward creating new vistas of videogaming experience. I suppose it's better than nothing, even if Jess (who is a cat) controls almost exactly the same as Postman Pat (who is an adult human male).


Once the first stage is over - it didn't take long, even with the accidental drownings - you get to play the first minigame. In his mad mail-collecting frenzy, Pat has not only scooped up all the parcels but also a large amount of fruit, vegetables and canned goods. Naturally you have to get these back to the residents of Greendale before they realise no-one's got any food and they loot the village shop, so in this minigame you have to sort the goods into one of these three sacks. Parcels go in the middle bag, fruit and veg on the left and tin cans on the right. To call it a bad minigame might be unfair, because there's nothing here to be bad. It's a complete non-entity with all the drama and excitement of aimlessly flicking through the TV channels late at night.


Stage three: driving Pat's van through the streets of Greendale. To drive, hold A and press up and down on the d-pad to swerve around the hundreds of traffic cones that someone with no understanding of even the basic concept of a traffic has scattered haphazardly throughout the village. The road surfaces are all perfectly fine, there are no workmen present, so why are there more cones here than in the bedroom of a drunken kleptomaniac student? There's a surprisingly tight time limit, too, surprising given that the previous stages were so easy, so I could see kids getting frustrated by the sheer volume of the pointy orange hordes. Not me, though, I'm totally cool and super great at videogames so I breezed past all of them on my way to find Ajay. Oh, right, supposedly the goal of this stage is to find someone called Ajay. I hope he's not hiding under a traffic cone or we could be in for a long search.


Ajay is the driver of the Greendale Rocket, it seems, and he wouldn't get to work until Pat brought him the large prune you can see at the bottom-left of the screen. Ajay demands that he's running regularly before his train will, you see.
That's the basic shape of PPatGR, then; each "world" is made up of a simple-to-the-point-of-redundancy platforming stage and a slightly aggravating driving stage made worse by the nagging feeling that you shouldn't be getting annoyed by something so basic, with a minigame sandwiched between the two. Let's get cracking and see the rest of them, shall we?


Postman Frog, Postman Frog,
Postman Frog crawled out of this bog.
He can't post your letters,
'Cause he got ate by herons,
Postman Frog should not have been employed.
Well, at least the forest-themed platforming stage wasn't the first one out of the gate in this game, although that first trip through Greendale was hardly a harrowing voyage through the decaying urban sprawl.


The second minigame involves hammering the A button to fly a kite, a kite that you must use to collect these unusually airborne letters. If you'll allow me one more dig at the Royal Mail - and if you've ever had a problem with them then I'm sure you will - it would explain a lot about their level of service if they used kites as a regular delivery system. I do hope this is all taking place on Pat's day off, you know. I'm fairly certain ditching your round to piss about with a kite is a sackable offence.
As for the actual event, where the driving was more challenging than you might expect for the target demographic, flying this bloody kite is just hard. Going for the low-flying letters is the problem, as it's all too easy to not press the button quite fast enough and see your kite fall to the ground, and there's no warning of when you're approaching this arbitrary limit. PPatGR gives you infinite lives, so it's not like you're going to get a game over, but it could definitely have been less annoying.


Postman Pat: terrible at flying kites. So bad at flying kites, in fact, that he has to chase it down in a motor vehicle. Quite what this has to do with either the postal service or getting a steam locomotive running is not explained, but that kite needs retrieving and the only way to do that is to drive as fast as possible through the narrow country lanes surrounding Greendale. In this case "as fast as possible" isn't very fast at all because Pat's van has the aerodynamic profile of a pile of housebricks, but it's still sending a dangerous message about road safety to the youth.


As night falls on Greendale, Pat heads to his local for a few pints to relax him after a strenuous day of kite-flying and driving around in his little red van. Unfortunately he overdoes it on the sherry and has to cling onto this wheelie bin for support as he stumbles home, leaving his own "special delivery" inside that the disgusted owner of the bin will have to clean out with a jet washer.
Before you get too excited about the appearance of these pushable items, I should make it clear that they're only part of a puzzle in the same way that opening a cupboard door is a puzzle. You push the wheelie bin (or sometimes a hay bale) over to a wall that's too high to jump over, you jump onto the wheelie bin, jump over the now-surmountable obstacle, et voilĂ . It's hardly Myst. It's hardly anything, really.


The minigames hit a new low as the vicar gives Pat a bucket and tells him to catch the water dripping through the church roof. "How long will I have to do this?" asks Pat. "Until we raise the eighty thousand pounds needed to repair the roof." Replies the Reverend. "We're having a bring-and-buy sale on Saturday, I'm sure that will do the trick." Is the whole "church needs money to buy a new roof" thing as common in the rest of the world as it is in Britain? I suppose probably not so much in America, those churches aren't generally as old as the one in Europe
There is one impressive thing about this minigame, though: the developers managed to do away with even the A button. It won't be long now before I'm just watching a really bad episode of Postman Pat.


Holy moly, those traffic cones are actually being used in a reasonable, sensible manner! I honestly did not expect to see that. I thought I was going to be forever slaloming through a haphazard forest of cones, distributed around town as though they were dropped into place by slinging them from a helicopter.


Jess pounces on a letter, so that letter will be torn to shreds immediately. That's the kind of thing cats do, right? I don't know. I'm not a cat person nor, despite the rumours, am I a cat-person. A cat person is different from a cat-person, because only the latter transforms into a jaguar at night and slaughters the local livestock. Anyway, here you can see Jess' other talent besides climbing up drainpipes, and that's entering small tunnels into which Pat cannot fit. You can also see that PPatGR does sometimes try reward the player for exploring or at least paying attention: there's another tunnel to the left with collectibles in it, but stepping on the blue button sends you straight back to playing as Pat so you have to have the presence of mind to jump over the button to get the extra goodies. Goodies which do nothing, as far as I can tell - there might be something special for collecting every single thing in every stage but it'll take someone much more dedicated that me to find that out.


The next minigame gives Jess a starring role in a forced scrolling section where the player must catch eighty butterflies, presumably before you run out of screen to scroll through. It's certainly more engaging than catching the dripping water, but then so is starting intently at the back of your own hand for three hours. Oddly, the butterflies are rendered in noticeably poorer graphics than everything else. For the most, PPatGR has been a fairly pleasant game visually - a little fuzzy, perhaps, but nothing like as ugly as these garishly coloured butterflies with their heavy black outlines.


I hope you'll forgive me for skipping the fourth driving section, but you're not missing anything anyway because it's the same as all the others. The final platforming stage, on the other hand, has been tinted with strangely melancholic sunset tones, and it looks rather nice. It'd look better if the collectable items didn't obscure so much of the screen and the status bar wasn't such an obnoxious "filthy motorway service station cafe" combination of colours and fonts, but nothing's perfect.


Here's me forgetting that Jess can't jump any further than Pat and completely missing that platform. It's a good job cats always land on their feet, although that won't matter if Jess falls into another one of Greendale's myriad pavement swimming pools.


There's one last minigame to play, and it's all about stamping parcels and letters while Mrs. Goggins, the postmistress, stares blankly at you from the background. She's been rendered catatonic by the dizzying speed at which these items fly across Pat's field of view, speed that will almost certainly cause you to become flustered and accidentally stamp a birthday present and what the hell are you doing Pat only letters and parcels get stamped! I'm not joking, these items are fair shooting across the screen and it's impossible to stamp them all, so the minigame falls into this weird mishmash where it's not difficult but it's still stressful. As long as you concentrate on not hitting the gifts - because a mistake like that stops your stamp working for a while - you'll be able to do it fine unless you have the world's most embarrassing coronary. "Cause of Death: got overexcited by a children's videogame" is not something you want your family to see.


Then there's one final driving section, the same gameplay as the others but the action's enlivened by the hideous blackness of the Outer Dimensions that has begun to seep into Postman Pat's universe, bring madness and death to all those it consumes. On the plus side, no traffic cones.


That's it, we're done here. Postman Pat has successfully brought together all the things that the Greendale Rocket was lacking: a prune, a wad of crumpled tin foil, a whistle, a wrench and a small bag of dice. Hmm. Maybe you should have brought the locomotive some bigger wheels, Pat. It looks like a shopping trolley that's got ideas above its station with those things sticking out of the bottom. Oh well, I won't be riding it, so when it slides off the rails don't come crying to me. Except you can't, because I've already peeled off into the sunset, having somehow figured out how to do sick wheelies in my post van.


Postman Pat and the Greendale Rocket managed to exceed the expectations I had for it, but then again my expectations had been hammered into the dirt by almost every other "kids" game I've ever played. The minigames are tedious, but they're generally not obnoxious about it and wouldn't you rather be bored than actively upset? That's right. Okay, so the driving sections aren't great either, but the platforming stages are... well, they're alright for very young players. It looks pretty nice and the music is impressively tolerable considering every track is based around the Postman Pat theme. I still wouldn't give this to a young relative to play - I'd give them Super Mario Bros. or a sheet of paper with "VIDEO GAME" written on it - but as these things go it's not soul-crushingly awful. It's amazing how much difference even the tiniest of care and attention can make, and that's exactly the amount of care and attention that went into this one.

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