I don't have much of a tendency to talk about sports, mostly due to lacking any good reason to. I'm not very athletic, but I played a decent handful of sports while I was a child.

My parents tried getting me into soccer by signing me up for a kids team, but I was usually too afraid to trip over the ball or accidentally kick another player, and I didn't have enough coordination to do anything successfully. Our team was called the Monsters, we lost our first and only league game, and after our last practice we all went out for pizza.

My dad was a shortstop and pitcher on his high school baseball team, so he tried his absolute best to push the interest onto his kids. I remember the first time I ever hit the ball in my five-year-old tee-ball team I ran as fast as I could and then became immediately confused because I had no idea where first base was. The field was brown and dusty. I like baseball jerseys. I've had a genuinely nice time attending baseball games and just sitting around eating hotdogs, popcorn, and not paying too much attention to the actual game. There's a lot of standing around in baseball,

There's a lot of standing around in football, too.

I don't think I've enjoyed a single American football video game I've played outside of maybe NFL Blitz because it's barely even a football game. I do not give a shit about actual American football. There are a million rules, you have like twenty guys on a field at a time, it's noisy, nothing fucking happens the entire game, and when something finally does happen everyone in family gatherings starts yelling and discussing Mickey McPasstheball's five-year career like they've studied him religiously for their entire life.

RealSports Football is a great American football game because, like the sport itself, it fucking sucks.

Hand-egg.

Deflate-gate.

Goat Brady.

I don't know why they called it RealSports when I am clearly sitting in front of my television screen to play this.

Kids these days.

Also I cannot for the life of me figure out how to throw any pitch besides an intentional ball. Yes, I did read the manual.

Pikmin 4 is fine.

It isn’t often that I get actively excited for video game releases, considering that my “backlog” of games is at the time of my writing this sitting at well over two thousand games I could try out at any time. I’m in no rush to play the newest stuff that comes out when I haven’t even finished Bloodborne, Mother 3, or even started Disco Elysium yet. I was actually excited for Pikmin 4 though. I preordered it and everything. I don’t even buy games usually, but this one I wanted to dedicate time to right away. Pikmin is one of my favorite game series ever. It’s a little rough around the edges, but I consider Pikmin 2 to be one of my favorite video games of all time. Pikmin 4 is fun. Good, even. But for me, it doesn’t touch Pikmin 2.

Pikmin 4 actually makes me feel the way that I’ve seen some diehard Pikmin 1 fans talk about Pikmin 2, with its lack of any sense of real pressure and focus on free exploration. On one hand, I agree that it takes away from the uniquely isolating, anxious, and unfamiliar mood carefully crafted for the first entry. On the other hand, Pikmin 2 was my first Pikmin game and I greatly valued the lack of pressure that allowed me to learn the ins and outs of it when I was an overly-cautious child. I’m pretty sure it took me 60 days or something the first time I finished it, and now that I’m an adult I can fairly consistently clear it in a couple of in-game weeks. I originally raised an eyebrow when first reading the question of “why bother with the day-night cycle at all if there’s no limit of days” regarding 2, but now I feel myself asking the exact same question with 4.

The actual answer is to create a stronger atmosphere and sense of environment, which Pikmin 4 nails (for the most part). The fact that you need to plan out your day and get work done during daylight, lest you face the wrath of wild night creatures, does wonders for building this sense of mystery and fear about the world you’re exploring. But this connects directly to what I feel to be the single biggest issue with the game: a profound failure of tension building or real danger. What we have here is an incredibly beautiful and vast landscape full of wonder and beauty set in front of us, begging to be explored after ten years of waiting for a new Pikmin game, full of treasures, caves, and enemies recognizable from the first three games.

And this dopey yellow shithead and his crew cheapen the entire experience.

Also the night missions are stupid and dumb contextually because they break the Pikmin story rule about nighttime being too dangerous to explore and ruin immersion by being actually pretty reasonable to handle. The game mode itself is fun enough though, Pikmin Tower Defense is a nice idea. I have nothing else to say about that.

Back to the dog.

With the introduction of the rescue pup Oatchi, levels are now designed with his abilities in-mind, like jumping, traveling through tunnels, and being able to carry Pikmin on his back while traversing through water, an obstacle previously reserved to blue Pikmin exclusively. He also doubles as a second captain who can command and lead Pikmin, just like the player character. You’re given the option (repeatedly encouraged) to give your pup various upgrades to make him stronger, whether it be to deal more damage, carry heavier objects, swim faster, etc., which obviously makes the game easier. However, riding on Oatchi’s back with your Pikmin entirely removes a key weakness of your ant-carrot army of the previous games:

Your hurtbox has now been concentrated to the back of a responsive and easily-maneuverable puppy dog.

I’m torn on this mechanically. On one hand, by the nature of all of your Pikmin being focused on a single spot, you now risk losing a greater number of Pikmin at once to single strikes. I know this because a boss creature stepped on me and Oatchi and I lost most of my troops. No, I don’t want to talk about it.

On the other hand, due to the way Oatchi’s tackle ability works, taking down most of the larger, higher-health enemies is now a linear experience. You hop on Oatchi’s back with your Pikmin, you charge your tackle, you land the tackle, your Pikmin hop off of Oatchi and onto the enemy, the enemy’s health depletes almost instantly.

A game doesn’t have to conform to the rules of any particular genre, but taking an engaging element of strategy out of a “Real-Time Strategy” game rubs me the wrong way.

I don’t actually hate the Oatchi-specific puzzles that come up on occasion. I like the little fella’s design. I think he’s goofy, especially when he makes the little whwhwhwhwhwhw noise with his whistle. But my problems with him get emphasized specifically in the context of the Engulfed Castle.

The Engulfed Castle is, in short, an excellent reference to the Submerged Castle from Pikmin 2, what I feel to be the most memorable and interesting cave in that game. It’s the only cave with a distinct restriction on the type of Pikmin you’re allowed to bring with you, as it is completely surrounded by water. A rule of Pikmin 2 is that you’re only able to enter a cave with the Pikmin directly in your squad, which means you can only bring blue Pikmin into this cave. The Engulfed Castle of Pikmin 4 is surrounded by water as well, but Pikmin 4 does not have this restriction on caves, so Nintendo decided to circumvent this by simply not allowing you to bring any other Pikmin type into the cave when selecting which Pikmin to join you. This cave functions just like any other, with long dark passages for you to explore and collect treasure, except your squad doesn’t have resistance to hazardous elements like fire, poison, and electricity. This means that you need to tread carefully in navigating obstacles to defeat enemies and get to the treasure. However, after about 5 minutes have passed on a sublevel, this steamroller-lookin’-guy shows up and starts meandering around the place, squishing everything in its way. Your blue Pikmin cannot hurt it.

The danger of the Waterwraith comes from the task of needing to carefully bring treasure back to your base coupled with how large, slow, and vulnerable your army is when spread out.

Oatchi lets your squad avoid the Waterwraith completely by carrying you and your Pikmin on its back.

You can just walk right past it. What’s it going to do? Turn slightly to the right? I’m already at the exit with all the treasure collected, you Flubber-lookin’ freak.

In Oatchi’s defense, it’s not entirely his fault. Nintendo also made Pikmin faster, so there’s not really any risk of them being left behind if you call them with your whistle (which is also the best it’s ever been) and try to make a break for it.

I will give Nintendo credit though, because they replicated the layout of the original sublevel floors from Pikmin 2. That was a very cool thing to realize while I was comfortably walking away from the steamroller.

Additionally, Pikmin 4 is so extraordinarily liberal in the sheer number of resources it gives you that I actively stopped giving a shit about Pikmin deaths. This is coming from someone who would hit restart on my GameCube every time a Pikmin died on my first playthrough of Pikmin 2. I’m sitting here with unused bombs, electricity, mines, and 56 Ultra-Spicy Sprays that I don’t even remember getting, and the game has the audacity to remind me that I can always rewind the clock if I feel bad about losing a single Pikmin. Relax, game. I have 400 other ice Pikmin sitting in reserve. It’s gonna be fine.

Granted, Pikmin 3 offered this via day-selection, but it wasn’t in-your-face about it the way in which 4 does it.

I don’t think a game being easier is necessarily a bad thing, but it feels a little wack to me when it’s a Pikmin game specifically, especially the way it was done with this one. I don’t need a bunch of items to figure out how to clear a level. My amorphous controllable blob of little guys can handle this.

Now, I need to address the Rescue Corp. itself. I don’t mind a world of characters that talk and have personalities. Hell, EarthBound is my favorite video game ever because of exactly this. However, what I do mind is a world that doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up.

These characters do not allow for any sense of mystery or wonder while it happens to you, the player, directly. “It sure is good we have the Pikmin with us!” No shit, we’re like three inches tall. You don’t need to have a message pop up that says “wow golly gosh gee you sure just lost 30 Pikmin to a rock-spider death explosion, it sure would be great to rewind time right about now” because you’re fucking experiencing it right there right in front of you. You’re having fun and making video game memories, and Collin or Shepherd has the audacity to say “this thing is happening and you need to do this right now immediately” like I didn’t learn to blow the whistle when my Pikmin were on fire FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

Why is the game backseat-gaming? Give me the fucking wheel and let me experience the consequences of my actions. For fuck’s sake.

It can be helpful on extremely rare occasions to have some kind of popup notification about something happening off-screen, given the nature of an RTS game, especially for new players. But as someone who figured out fairly quickly to actively pay attention to and notice the only numbers on your screen available at all times worth monitoring (Pikmin population), being told that my squad I sent on a faraway mission is under attack actively spoils the surprise. With Nintendo offering no option to reduce the frequency or turn it off completely, they might as well just said “fuck you” to me personally instead.

The only surprise to be found here is in my own consistent expectations of Nintendo.

Speaking of lacking any sense of mystery and wonder, a mechanic I was surprisingly very excited for in this entry was actually a limitation; you are only allowed to have three types of Pikmin out on the field or in a cave at any given time. This had the potential to be cool in-concept, because it could have meant you’d need to pick and choose different Pikmin types for different needs throughout various obstacles you encounter throughout your time spent in different huge locations.

Nope. The game YET AGAIN removes any player responsibility for decision-making. Just press the X button. The game will give you recommended types. You’ll be fine. No thoughts required. Go grab yourself a snack.

Can’t quite hit that one creature? Lock-on button. Charge. With Oatchi. It’s probably dead now.

Great.

The lock-on feature is awful and I hate it. I’ll take the free-form movement of an entire army controlled by the right stick and the ability to aim freely over an auto-snapping lock-on and charge button any day.

Biggs_hoson comments in their review that Pikmin 4 feels like “just playing more Pikmin™”, and when it boils down to it, I think that’s ultimately my biggest problem with the game. It’s still “Pikmin™”, but in a lot of ways it’s been homogenized to taste a little more like your average video game and less like the Weirdo Shit™ I’d fallen in love with through the first two games; games I find myself gravitating more and more towards as I play more video games.

Nintendo took the formula from their previous games, created an interesting world to explore and appreciate, and then slapped all of the tools they possibly could together to make it conducive to blazing through said world as fast as you possibly can.

My body is a machine that turns unexplored natural habitats into Platinum-Medal Cleared Dandori Challenges™.

I’m conflicted, because the first two Pikmin games are pretty niche and I understand completely why Nintendo would make the choices they did with 4. Pikmin 1 was ambitious and weird, and I respect it tremendously, significantly more than I actually enjoy playing it, which could be argued is the entire point of it. Pikmin 2 is my perfect jank-sandwich full of bullshit and weird eccentricities, and one of the few games I’ve given genuine thought about speedrunning. Pikmin 3 simplified the controls and toned down the difficulty in order to make it more approachable, shifting focus to a Pikmin 1-esque gameplay style of “do things as efficiently and quickly as possible,” all at the expense of making it an overall more shallow experience, and Pikmin 4 went further by tuning up the “dandori” focus and then adding a thousand safety nets. There are challenges in the later part of the game to be sure, but the ones requiring actual honest-to-goodness creative thinking are few and far-between. I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying it “takes elements from all of the other ones to make it the best one” and I just don’t see it. It’s the most sterilized and homogenized in the series for sure.

It’s still a good game overall though. After how short Pikmin 3 felt back on the WiiU, I welcome the clever design tricks Nintendo used to pad out the Story Mode and make it longer, e.g. Pikmin 3’s Mission Mode now existing in the form of mini-caves where you rescue leaflings by completing a Dandori Challenge. I feel it to be way too hand-holdy for my tastes, but I want to stress more than anything that I still like this game and I feel it to be an overall strong entry in the series. The time I’ve been putting aside to play Pikmin 4 has been enjoyable, and I’m incredibly happy for the reception it’s getting, as Pikmin is a series that absolutely deserves it. The levels are great, the controls are great, the caves are great, and the overall design of the game itself is fun and works well. But it’s too sleepy for what I was hoping for.

You’re not gonna get unexpectedly carpet-bombed or jumpscared by a Bulbear just for carrying a rubber ducky out of a cave. In my eyes, for some reason, this is a negative.

In the end, I guess I just wish Nintendo would say “fuck you” to me through its level design instead of its endless tutorials.

Just give me a “silent Collin” mode and let me explore the wilderness in peace.

I bet I’d feel differently about all this if this was my first Pikmin game.

It’s not.

AAAAAAAH!!!

...sorry about that. I saw a spider.

Wow.

You wanna talk about a perfect port? This is it. Missile Command for the Atari 2600. It just works, and you've got different options to start at different levels if you want.

There's even a children's mode.

They made a difficulty for children. For Missile Command.

I love video games.

I was about eight or nine years old when I played The Legend of Zelda on the NES for the first time at my neighbor's house. I remember feeling incredibly confident in my Zelda knowledge and gaming abilities, since I had then recently beaten The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time on the N64 for the first time.

Because they are the same game.

I discovered that The Legend of Zelda on the NES is hard, clunky, and doesn't really offer much in the way of story (given that I skipped the intro at the beginning and didn't have any sort of instruction booklet on-hand), much to my dismay. Several years later, I noticed a recurring sentiment regarding the first Zelda about how it offers very little in terms of "explanation," and instead opts to let the player's sense of curiosity and adventure take them everywhere, instead of being told what to do and where to go by a little glowing fairy-creature. This same style of free-form exploration is reflected again in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, a game I appreciate very much.

From the time I first played it to now, I have come to appreciate The Legend of Zelda for the NES very much.

Today is the first time I have played Atari's Adventure. I appreciate it tremendously.

My earliest cognizant childhood memories were formed during the time of the GameBoy Pocket and N64, so older arcade games and the Atari 2600 often feel like some kind of relic to me. I've been chipping away at Atari 50: The Anniversary Celebration as a means of acquiring much-needed insight into video game history. I played my fair share of Asteroids on a family friend's computer, along with different versions of Breakout, but never had any concrete understanding of how important Atari games were for the context of video gaming as a whole. I'm getting there though, and Adventure was an enormous step for me.

Pong was important.

Breakout was important.

Adventure?

Fuckin' important.

It's got all the sense of wonder and exploration, simple rules, simple colors (out of necessity), and dragons that definitely look like ducks. It's all squares, and leaves much to the imagination. Not much in the way of story, no grandiose plot about being a chosen one, no advanced mechanics. Simply an Adventure.

And if I'm being honest with myself, I like actually playing it more than The Legend of Zelda on NES.

Not more than The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds though.

That one's my favorite. :)