“Everything in this world, colors are the essence of it all. If they are lost, then the world is ruined.”

Magic Pengel presents a simple premise. That the art we create is explicitly alive. It does this quite succinctly. Upon mere moments of entering this world you are given a brush from which you are expected to form your own creation. Which then springs to life out of the page from which it is scribed. Bouncing and frolicking in the field around you, you are immediately shown that through your hands you can create living things. It is this ‘magic’ that the game wants to show you. A sentiment that forms the basis behind its existence.

It is found to be insufficient alone. While ‘Doodles’ can perhaps exist on mere whimsy, they are still at the behest of their authors. These ‘Humans’, who instead subsist on purpose and material need. And so too in turn, Doodles are made to exist not for their own sake, but instead to serve the needs of their masters. The rest of Magic Pengel is derived from seeking to turn that initial sentiment into comestible substance. To produce ‘colour’ in the world. How well it succeeds is contentious.

For Magic Pengel to become a game instead of just mere sentiment, there are expectations that must be reconciled. Games are obliged to be such that you can ‘play’ them, to provide a set of tasks of its players to engage in. ‘Good gameplay’ conventionally lies in conveying a feeling of control. That the events that occur on screen are as a direct result of a player’s thoughtful inputs. It is here that Magic Pengel faces most of its critique. That through no amount of understanding its mechanical nuances will ever make you feel in control. These ‘Doodle Battles’ that comprise Magic Pengel’s core gameplay, amount to correctly guessing on coin flips.

While I cannot defend this detraction nor frame it as some nuanced deliberation, I feel it is not of meaningful consequence. That feeling of control is never sought. You the player, are not here to conquer this world. Although you are cursorily acknowledged, you barely exist as a tangible entity, never for a moment being rendered upon the screen. Nor enacting any meaningful impact on its narrative. The nature of this story is one which exists outside of you. Merely your role is to act as its observer.

This world you are made to perceive you may find also exists as a ‘Doodle’. A living sentiment forced to bear purpose. Through following its story you are made to understand that in through doing so it suffers immensely in pain. That there is real harm in perceiving art as a commodity or tool. As a means to an end. Magic Pengel suggests that perhaps doodles should be able to exist externally from serving gratification.

“And doesn’t that go against what Galileo believed. That a Doodle might have a heart and feelings?”

(Magic Pengel is a game built around its core feature. That being your ability to be able to breathe life into any ‘Doodle’ you are able to etch upon the screen. This is a wondrously impressive and novel piece of technocraft. Especially considering the time of its initial release and its accessibility in the hands of its intended juvenile audience. It’s presentation and soundtrack is immaculate (check out this track: https://youtu.be/2RXZGtZkEoU), there was real love put into its craft. However, the experience I feel suffers in trying to meet the expectations of being a game. This game is akin to watching a 2-hour animated film, but instead stretched across 10-hours of gameplay. How well you feel about your tolerance to indulge such a prospect, as well as your willingness to actually engaging in the craft of doodling, will greatly reflect your enjoyment of this experience)

Everyone who exists even slightly online eventually becomes aware of the anthology of works that is Touhou Project. ‘The Land of that which is forgotten’ exists in jarring contradiction to its title. Instead, Gensokyo’s colourful residents hold a commanding presence within the psyche of popular culture. Considered the most popular ‘Doujinshi’ of all time, these self-published fan works eclipse the output of any of its contemporaries by a multiplier. This is no doubt attributed to Team Shanghai Alice’s very unrestrictive copyright policy, encouraging such fan works to exist and be sold, blessed with explicit and universal pre-approval. Touhou’s success could be perceived as a victory for the public domain.

Yet the fandom is not unified in its revelry. Alike to the myths and legends that comprise it’s cast, Touhou’s popular renown comes overwhelming from its derivative material, and much less so from the original ‘incidents’ that inspired them. Although these original works are certainly notorious, posing as the poster child of the ‘bullet hell’ genre, only a fraction of its fans experience these games in any meaningful capacity. Rather instead, these games serve a regularly occurring ripple that propagates through its fans. Whom then project and extrude their own interpretation and meaning of its cast through their own works.

How can this be so? How can such an expansive fandom exist so detached from that in which it heralds? A curious individual would find merely attempting to play the games takes significant effort. The most popular game in the series (by far), Embodiment of Scarlet Devil, cannot be searched for online in order to procure a digital copy. As of penning this review, the officially sanctioned means of acquisition remains solely through a singular specific Japanese distributor, who will ship you the physical CD in the mail.

Once you actually get to playing it (and applying any necessary compatibility patches) you will be confronted by its gameplay. Shmups are an unforgiving genre by deliberate design, you would be forgiven in believing they were still charging by the life in how they played. Although the profit model of games has moved on from the arcades, the concept of a ‘one credit clear’(1cc) is somehow not archaic, remaining the industry standard to this day. Touhou is perhaps to blame. There is a curious clause to the minimal copyright license that ZUN actively enforces. ‘Rule 1. Don’t post endings’. Of all that the Touhou Project allows of its fans, it appears there is only one thing truly held as sacred. That only those who dedicate themselves to the work, such that they can achieve the feat of that 1cc, should be allowed the intimacy of knowing it.

As you learn more and more about Gensokyo you start to understand the rationale behind this inaccessibility. The overarching narrative of Touhou is one that seeks to preserve the mythical. Concepts and figures that have been pushed out of a shrinking world as it is slowly demystified. What is the quality about this land that enables the preservation of these ‘Gods of the Gaps’? Fear mostly. A manufactured reverence. It is in a strong enough belief in their reputation that myths can hold enough power to be made real and live. Likewise, Touhou Project as a series of games are legendary through its reputation of being insurmountable to challenge. Irrespective of the truth that lies in this perception. It is through this belief that has inspired so many artists to create their fan works, not only in spite, but because of their detachment to the original material. A necessary degree of separation that allows a gap to grow.

On record ZUN has stated that the initial inspiration of the series was in response to other games at the time. Or rather, the dissatisfaction he felt with those experiences. That it inspired a desire to craft his own that could leave him satisfied. Is there no grander delivery of critique? So too in response, Touhou fangames exist in critique of the main Project, even those as clearly enamored with its source material such as Spellbroken Dream Festival.

There is something profoundly beautiful about Danmaku, these patterns of bullets that exist at the heart of Touhou’s gameplay. That they will overwhelm and destroy you repeatedly is only incidental. Only a fraction of which are actually aimed towards you or exist as obstacles in your way. Instead, their true purpose is simply to be perceived, these spells embodying its caster's desire of being known. Their shapes and how they are formed are imbued with expression, in which a fanbase have been able to repeatedly infer entire nuances to characters, whom only have held in ‘canon’ few lines of dialogue.

Spellbroken Dream Festival understands this, isolating and highlighting this core component. Previously I mentioned that these games have a reputation of being lauded as prohibitively difficult. In truth, these games are not as demanding as they are perceived. Although this speaks more of the genre, Touhou is considered only ‘entry-level’ relative to Shmup contemporaries. Once you have acclimatized to the systems, the gameplay emphasizes resource management and bullet redirection strategies to excel, instead of one’s raw dodging acumen. In short, you can ‘skip’ past the most difficult parts of Touhou through understanding when to use ‘bombs’ and the knowledge gleamed through repetition.

It is here where Spellbroken Dream Festival deviates and distinguishes itself. The game consists of a large set of isolated Individual spell cards, compiled for you to challenge at your leisure in the order of your choosing, arranged in incremental difficulty. These spell cards are all lovingly crafted accompanied with author’s commentary on the thought process behind their conception. They are creatively wrought and a spectacle to witness but most importantly you are made to engage with them. In contrast to the original series, there are no bombs provided to you in which they may be skipped. Instead, SDF implores your full comprehension, to endure their barrage in their entirety, but providing you with guidance on how to meet its challenge. You must persist until you are able to perceive that pathway through the maelstrom before before you. And once you succeed, you have nothing more to prove and can move on.

Through simply changing the structure of the experience a veil is able to be pierced. Long ago a previous me tried to play Embodiment of Scarlet Devil. It was overwhelming. Its reputation convinced me that it was a foolish endeavour to try, and so fear won out. I was unable to overcome the mental barrier preventing me from understanding it, as repeated resets drove me away. SDF on the other hand seeks to teach you. To unravel its complexity slowly in increments. At the end, a final challenge is presented before you, that of a more conventional Touhou final level. Scaled up in difficulty even, in order to meet the increased spell complexity of SDF. You have endured much to reach it. And so, you will persevere. Because you have been shown you are capable of doing so. And through this experience, Touhou as a game is deconstructed. You find it is not only through fear that can enable myths to be believed. SDF shows you can make it real, through simply reciprocating in that earnest desire to be known.

(Spellbroken Dream Festival is a simplistically beautiful game. The elusive nature of Touhou has always been an enigma to me and through this experience I am starting to comprehend why so many are enamored with it. If you ever had the fleeting desire to experience a Touhou game, but were overwhelmed in where to start, I would recommend this game. Its accessibility and ability to play it at your own pace has done wonders for me in facilitating my ability to appreciate the genre.)

Horror games have always been an elusive genre for me to indulge. Not because I actively sought to avoid such works, just that the console libraries available to me simply did not seemingly contain any prominent examples. As I grew older and less naive, more attuned to the true nature of this world, I would come to an understanding that this was deliberately made so! There are vested powers that be that sought to keep such tomes away from me and others alike. Those that writhe in the shadows sought to curate my lived reality to divert my attention away from that which would subvert their control. To keep me sedated with their colourful and vibrant gameplay focused experiences. To prevent me from ever seeking to understand or even know of the dark. To contain me within an encroaching maw. But even that which possesses a thousand eyes must still blink. One game escaped and slipped through the careful watch of these sentinels. Tonally distinct and separate amongst a catalog of peers. Those that are marked with the brand of the beast, the official Nintendo seal of quality. Eternal Darkness is certainly a curious game that came about to exist.

What constitutes as horror is an open question, the works which seek to explore this theme have immense flexibility in presenting an answer. Intuitively, it is known that there are certain graphics and sounds that provoke an immediate aversion within the hearts of mankind. Self-preservation instincts that have been programmed into our genetic code, which are so very easy to exploit. But while these cheap thrills are effective, they tend to not leave a lasting impression on their own. No, the works that serve as cited inspiration to Eternal Darkness, are a bit more nuanced in their delivery. For horror to leave its persistent mark upon the psyche of those who perceive it, it needs to evoke it through a more drawn out and creeping manner. There is a formulistic method in which to infect an audience with madness.

The ritual starts by us being made aware that the horror does in fact exist. That there are ancient and malignant evils in this world. While this may seem evident from personal experience alone, it is not explicitly known to what extent. We perhaps would like to think that there is a comprehensible reason or purpose behind the hostilities we are made to face. That it is in reaction to our being. How do you confront the idea that these amalgamated entities and ideas that have sought your unmaking, even before you were born, are not doing so out of enmity? That the evils you are made to face are merely incidental, and ultimately insignificant in the context of a grand conspiracy? The dread in this creeping realization as you turn page after page that chronicle the doomed prospects of those who were alike you. It becomes quite clear that it is unfathomable for any sole individual to challenge the darkness. Horror is in the slow accumulation of awareness of how insignificant we truly are against our enemies.

The next part lies within our response to this realization. We find that we are unwilling to accept this truth without a fight. If we alone cannot hope to surmount these evils, then we choose to persevere and seek other recourse! We discard our individuality. Through simply perceiving it to be as so, we can become a culmination and extension of others. We stand tall atop pillars which entomb those who came before us. Through inheriting the mantle of legacy, we can manifest hope. We find we can challenge millennia old conspiracies because we are able to make ourselves equally as ancient, unfathomable and powerful.

But horror is insidious, ever festering internally. There is a final malady to invoke madness. That which would turn our victories hollow. To understand of an indomitable truth, that we only ever possessed an illusion of control. True horror lies dormant within the inversion of hope. Merely waiting for you to flip your perspective. Legacy, that hope, which enabled us to confront the darkness is also a curse. A burden we carry not entirely of our own volition. The festering machinations of another ancient evil, this time wrought through our own creation.

“I sought to love all yet now love causes me pain and suffering. I have learned to fear nothing although it is nothing that I most fear. All that were loyal to me now number among my worst enemies.”

(Eternal Darkness is certainly a unique and ambitious game. However, I do feel it is let down by its adherence to the expectations of the medium. While there are very cool and unique ways in which it is able to instill dread upon its players, enabled through its nature as a game, it is dampened by the fact that you are never ever at any real personal risk. The mild difficulty and the implicit nature that at its heart, Eternal Darkness is still a game engineered explicitly for you to overcome, means that you are rarely made to feel unsettled playing it. Additionally, as the player accumulates powerful abilities that persist between chapters it results in later chapters become homogenized, the distinct attributes and struggles of the cast made irrelevant. I recommend it less to action or horror fans, who may find this underbaked, and more to those with an affinity towards experiencing its unique delivery of storytelling)