Hee hee hee

This is almost one of the first texts that appears in Undertale and it perfectly describes the game: it’s a "hee hee hee-game." Undertale is a dazzling post-modern experience (borderline post-gaming) that functions almost like a critical commentary on the JRPG genre. The game mocks certain generally accepted conventions, such as the fact that a night at the inn passes instantly, that a vendor NPC will buy all your junk, and that the use of violence is the only solution for restoring peace.

However, even though I was totally blown away by the characters, the music (what a wonder), and the artistic direction, I sometimes find that these "intelligent games that reflect on the video game medium" can feel... pointless? By subverting the RPG genre, isn't Undertale mocking its ancestors? The fake endings, the plot twists, the so-called save file that gets destroyed, etc. Do these constant back-and-forths in the dialogue between the player and the game show how much Toby Fox wants to prove that he understands everything? Is the goal of a game really to "prove a point"?

As the Thinker said: "meta is easy." Undertale constantly pulled the rug out from under my gaming experience. For me, the game lacks a backbone in terms of gameplay simply because Undertale refuses to take video game conventions seriously. This lack of consistency (a fundamental element of any game) in the gameplay somewhat diminished my enjoyment. It feels like Toby Fox primarily wants to comment on a genre and entertain us… and he does it very well.

I think I might get flamed for this, but Undertale is neither a JRPG, nor a shmup, nor an adventure game, but rather a walking sim that explains to its audience that game conventions are sometimes silly. Even if this commentary is absolutely accurate and well done, I, on the other hand, prefer "real games." Hee hee hee.


PS: Catty and Bratty's music reminds me way too much of Maya Fey's music in Ace Attorney.

Hotel Dusk Room 215 is a curiosity worth trying. The central idea seems to be this: using the DS sideways to use the two screens as two 9:16 panels. This approach is central to this very talkative investigation game where each character occupies one screen. Between a comic book and a photo novel, Hotel Dusk draws its strength from its dialogues and its plot.

Although the story presents itself as a noir novel, I felt like I was in a classic detective novel in the style of Agatha Christie. Just like "And Then There Were None" or "Murder on the Orient Express," the story takes place within a limited time and space. The whole story unfolds over one evening and in a single location, the Hotel Dusk. Each character present is thus central to the mystery and hides secrets that must be revealed.

However, think of it more as a visual novel that borrows investigative elements. The player does not conduct a real investigation but rather seeks to advance the story by unlocking situations through small puzzles or dialogues. Fundamentally ultra-linear, do not expect investigative gameplay like "Return of the Obra Dinn," but rather a limited point-and-click adventure game.

If we use today’s standards to judge HDR215’s gameplay, we are inevitably disappointed. The game is either too guided (for example, the character says out loud, "I should go to the reception" -> we must go to the reception) or oddly complex (if certain objects are not inspected, the game doesn’t progress). Overall, HDR215 uses the DS’s touch screen as a gimmick that can sometimes be fun (picking a lock, rewinding a cassette with a pencil) or sometimes totally annoying (decorating a Christmas tree, or playing a game of bowling with the worst imaginable controls).

Some passages even require closing the DS to unlock a situation. Without revealing these situations, I must admit they are particularly imaginative moments. I find it hard to see how these gameplay moments will survive without playing on the DS.

Continuing with the less successful elements: the music is very generic and gives the impression of being stuck in a pseudo-chic hotel elevator, and the graphics (except for the animated characters) are very basic. It’s clear that the development team worked with limited means (which also adds to its charm).

Hotel Dusk Room 215 is a poor game but a very successful visual novel. The story and characters are admirably well-written and believable. Being in a closed setting with few characters creates a strong bond between the characters, and the authors managed to keep me hooked in a relatively simple story whose final outcome is never suspected. However, the "multiple-choice questionnaires" at the end of each chapter: no thanks.

Everything relies on the dialogues and the animation of the characters, which are prodigiously brought to life with rotoscoping. I am particularly fond of "smirk face" Kyle Hyde, and Louis is really well done in the role of the sympathetic loser.

I may seem very negative in my lines, but I insist: this game has a crazy charm and a very successful atmosphere. A little magic that is rarely found. I really hope a remaster will give this game a second life, as it seems condemned (in its current state) to remain stuck on DS

Be careful with comfort food: you can quickly get sick of it and then life goes on without possible comfort. It's hard to play 3D Land when you've recently played 3D World, which now appears as the definitive version of "linear and classic Mario with the flag at the end but actually in 3D".

If we take the main game: it's too short and too easy. In my notes, I marked down 3 levels that caught my attention: 6-3 (a great ghost level), 7-2 (for its very challenging spiked trunks), and 8-1 (for its sliding section with a front-facing camera angle). The rest of the levels are relatively quickly forgotten. I won't go into the boss fights: 3 boss mechanics that repeat ad nauseam → very weak. Nothing like the battles in Mario Galaxy.

Once the game is finished, you can literally replay it with some additional challenges (speed run mode, being followed by an evil Mario, some additional mechanics). This gives the impression that the game is trying to occupy the player at all costs. One might argue, of course, that a game, not being a necessary good, fundamentally only occupies a player who accepts this tacit contract.

A passable experience overall.