Have you ever had someone look at you in shock and say “I can’t believe you never played ___!”? That’s what this column is about. I’m an old fart gamer experiencing some of the classic retro games for the first time – and rather than having something profound or meaningful to say about it, I’m just going to share my initial thoughts upon playing a game most others have already deemed a classic. Hope you enjoy my newcomer insight – and ignorance – to games I should have played by now!
This week, I’m continuing my coverage of Earthbound for the SNES.
In my second half of this discussion, I’m still only going to go up to about halfway through the game, to prevent spoilers to those who want to give this game a try. I’m slowly getting on the side of everyone else in the world, in that I’m realizing this game is still worth playing if you haven’t yet, and I want other players who still haven’t tried the game to see things brand new like I did. It totally has nothing to do with the fact that I repeatedly am either getting stuck or getting delightfully distracted by exploring every possible nook and cranny and, despite playing for a month, I still have no idea what I’m doing.
The more I play it, the more I start to appreciate the fact that it is intended to take place in modern time – or at least modern time in the 90s. Many games in this time, in particular RPGs, would take place either in a fantasy world deep into the future or far into the past. But being in somewhat present times, immersion becomes something that is far more interesting and relatable. The same way drunk men and angry old ladies can be enemies in Earthbound, it’s easy to look back to being a child and thinking the exact same thing – the same goes for runaway dogs, piles of sludge, and things that just belch at you. When I was a child, my fascination with games like Super Mario RPG made me secretly fantasize about real world as an RPG, with neighbors and grumpy grown ups being enemies and friends being party members (“Thomas is totally the healer of our group!”). This game nurtures thoughts like these.
Yet, coming from this at an adult’s perspective, it’s also easy to enjoy soaking up the recurring elements – like showing how emotionally stunted people should not really get to a position of power. There are some obvious examples that will come to mind to those that finish the game, but other little individual characters will bring this up as well, such as the Runway Five. Upon reaching Fourside, this band has accrued over a million dollars of debt to various venues. The manager of Twoson’s venue says “The Runway Five owe me a lot of money. They’ll stay here until they pay me back. They might be here 100 years, unless you decide to pay off their debt…” But she says this to Ness, of all people. How deep in the red could they possibly be if the person owed is desperate enough to ask a child for help?
The Runway Five will have some highly amusing dialogue to make up for their incompetence, or more often as a result of it. “Hey sidewalk! Get out of my way!” is something I very rarely expect someone even fictional to blurt out with sincerity.
My feelings from the previous article regarding the game’s lack of hand holding continue to remain true. There’s one part where the game takes you to a waterfall, where you’re prompted for a password. You find out from one of the Saturns that the password is to go up to the waterfall and stand there, doing nothing, for three minutes real time. I knew this, but did not know there was someone who was going to ask me for the password, so I just sat there like an idiot waiting for the waterfall to let me in. There are a significant number of things in the game where it is easy to get lost, or miss the trigger for an event, and just find yourself wondering, “How was I supposed to ever think of that?” But in some ways this kind of game is a lost art; you truly earn your milestones in the game, and find yourself feeling tremendously accomplished if you can finish without a guide.
There are also quite a few points where I accidentally skipped something, having either missed or never received the cues to go back. I ended up getting the third Sound Stone before the second, and upon returning for the second I managed to obliterate this boss in one turn because I had so much trouble with the third and over-leveled – which, given my difficulty at the very start of the adventure, was oh so satisfying.
Having played a bit more, the status effects are really starting to grow on me, both in terms of being more realistic for a child on a quest but also in terms of developing attachment to the characters; you don’t want these things to happen to them. Homesickness, one where you occasionally lose focus in battle and can’t attack, is a pretty cool status effect that I can’t believe isn’t in more games. Granted, this status makes me really regret being immature and customizing my game to make “poop” my protagonist’s favorite food. “Ness thought about eating poop and started craving it” becomes a pathetic way for a child to die far away from home.
Speaking of Poo, he’s the only character I haven’t gotten to yet, but Paula and Jeff both have their niches. Paula’s spells balance out Jeff’s lack of spells but superior use of technology, making the party kind of fun in the sense that everyone brings something to the table. When Paula first joined the party, however, she was frustratingly frail, making grinding her into a usable member a chore. For those that don’t know, she joins your party after you rescue her from being kidnapped – but because I couldn’t keep her alive more than one or two battles, I returned her to her hometown as a ghost (what happens when you reach 0 HP in a battle). There’s a dark humor in doing this, because her parents recognize her hollow body faintly and respond to this with, “I thought I saw her for a second.”
Jeff joins your party after leaving his school by climbing the fence and following Paula’s voice, which he hears telepathically and decides to listen to despite having no idea who she is or if she is even real. For someone who is smart enough to repair virtually any broken item in your inventory, I sort of expected more of his common sense. Nonetheless, Jeff proves to be really useful right away.
One last thought before I wrap up: this game is incredibly self-aware, which adds a layer of depth to it. For example, what the game lacks in graphics, it makes up for using uniqueness; you really feel like each town is a different experience as the game goes on, giving all sorts of colors and artwork to make each place feel new and exciting (though this becomes more prominent as the game goes on, past the first few towns). What the game lacks in exciting battles, it makes up for using odd self-jab humor; the game uses a few pallet swap enemies, lampshading their lack of creativity when stuff like “Cranky Lady” has a stronger variation called “Extra Cranky Lady.” Also, the house you purchase in Onett literally has no fourth wall, a slight nod to things that will happen later in the game.
This game is ideal for someone who loves nothing more than taking a game slowly, absorbing everything, and appreciating all the big themes and little easter eggs. If this sounds like your playstyle, give this game a shot. Don’t listen to the 90s marketing; this game doesn’t stink.
