I've always had a penchant for games based on 'mini-games.' RHM is a good compromise between a Wario Ware and a musical game like 'Dance Dance Revolution' or even 'Guitar Hero.'
I have also a certain admiration for developers who create a particular world, characters, game rules, and even a tutorial so that the player ultimately spends less than 2 minutes there. Moreover, even though the scenery constantly changes (except for certain come-backs and remixes), we almost always do the same thing: learn via a tutorial 2 to 3 rhythm patterns that we execute directly afterward. Yet, this 'simple' mission is paradoxically very restful and calming. The further we advance in the mini-games, the more we learn to listen more attentively. The game demands a short but intense minute of attention. Fair enough. RHM falls into this category where one can (and should) play a maximum of 15 minutes per day, giving the illusion of progress in a domain (here, rhythm).
I was particularly a fan of the remix passages where different mini-games are mixed. There's an element of surprise that requires considerable responsiveness. I would have hoped for more moments like that.
However, this game has led me to deep reflections on video games in general. Is a good game, of action for example, not simply a game that is well-paced? a certain rhythm ? I firmly believe that a good game also necessarily has a good flow. RHM confirms the interesting thought of Matthew Matosis, who argues that Audio Cues are absolutely crucial in a good game as humans react more quickly to auditory stimuli than visual ones. Even if RHM is much simpler than a complex action game (here, pressing one button is enough in the majority of cases), this kind of game confirms this theory: a good game doesn't use audio cues as the 'moment to press the button' but as hints for an action that is about to happen. If you get into the 'flow,' you can react extremely precisely. A bad drummer looks at the metronome, the good one might just close his eyes.
Anyway, I'm glad I managed to finish the game at least. Who knows, it's likely that one day, old age will prevent me from playing this kind of game. Either because my hearing will be completely impaired, or because my arthritic hands won't be able to keep up with the pace.
"Okay grandpa, thanks for your theories, it's time to go to bed."
I have also a certain admiration for developers who create a particular world, characters, game rules, and even a tutorial so that the player ultimately spends less than 2 minutes there. Moreover, even though the scenery constantly changes (except for certain come-backs and remixes), we almost always do the same thing: learn via a tutorial 2 to 3 rhythm patterns that we execute directly afterward. Yet, this 'simple' mission is paradoxically very restful and calming. The further we advance in the mini-games, the more we learn to listen more attentively. The game demands a short but intense minute of attention. Fair enough. RHM falls into this category where one can (and should) play a maximum of 15 minutes per day, giving the illusion of progress in a domain (here, rhythm).
I was particularly a fan of the remix passages where different mini-games are mixed. There's an element of surprise that requires considerable responsiveness. I would have hoped for more moments like that.
However, this game has led me to deep reflections on video games in general. Is a good game, of action for example, not simply a game that is well-paced? a certain rhythm ? I firmly believe that a good game also necessarily has a good flow. RHM confirms the interesting thought of Matthew Matosis, who argues that Audio Cues are absolutely crucial in a good game as humans react more quickly to auditory stimuli than visual ones. Even if RHM is much simpler than a complex action game (here, pressing one button is enough in the majority of cases), this kind of game confirms this theory: a good game doesn't use audio cues as the 'moment to press the button' but as hints for an action that is about to happen. If you get into the 'flow,' you can react extremely precisely. A bad drummer looks at the metronome, the good one might just close his eyes.
Anyway, I'm glad I managed to finish the game at least. Who knows, it's likely that one day, old age will prevent me from playing this kind of game. Either because my hearing will be completely impaired, or because my arthritic hands won't be able to keep up with the pace.
"Okay grandpa, thanks for your theories, it's time to go to bed."