Zoo Review is a monthly feature at Murderblog 3D in which our esteemed review panel pores over the hottest new game and breaks it down into a score that you can understand.

Fair warning: I’m about to drop a major nerd bomb up in here.  Even my cat thinks this stuff is lame.

I’m of the opinion that Magic: the Gathering is a pretty great game. Not because I’m into crazy elf ogres or wizards doing wizardly stuff, but because the mechanics are so very rich. If you’ve never played Magic before, just imagine your favorite RTS¹ played with cards. Strong focus on micromanagement, requires quick mental reflexes and it favors adaptation over long term strategy. You can control your own resources and how they work for you, but you can’t control how your opponent will respond to your actions. Which, obviously, is a staple of most competitive games. Magic makes it a bit different by adding a slight randomization aspect. Those cards, your resources? They’re shuffled.  You have no idea what your opening hand will look like, and that will affect how the game plays out.  It also gives you a go-to excuse when you lose (”I could have killed you on the first turn, but I shuffled badly and didn’t draw the card that kills you on the first turn”).

I played the game when it was first released and had a lot of fun with it.  Dragon summoning and counterspelling and all that.  Then I discovered girls and the whole thing went to shit.

Now that I’m an old man and the gentle touch of a woman is but a distant memory, I’ve gotten back into Magic.  It fills the void.  The game is a bit more balanced than it was fifteen years ago, for various reasons².  But it’s still just as fun if you have the patience for it.

When I was in college I discovered a PC game called Duel of the Planeswalkers that had been developed by Microprose. It was actually one of the last titles Sid Meier worked on at Microprose, according to internet lore.  This game was full fledged Magic, containing a deck builder and every card that had been printed at the time of the release (with thirty plus pre-configured decks built in).  It was so goddamn wonderful.  You know how some people play Minesweeper while talking on the phone?  I did that with Duel of the Planeswalkers.  Just hit the random duel button and my mouse hand would do the rest.  The game was fast, fun and simple (well, as simple as Magic can be).  I still have a copy installed on my laptop, and I play it regularly.

Last week Stainless Games and Wizards of the Coast released an Xbox Live Arcade title called Duel of the Planeswalkers.   It’s not a port of the PC game, sadly.  It’s… well, it’s Magic as a video game.  The umpteenth version, actually.

How am I supposed to Zoo Review a title like this?  Do I consider it a standalone game or take into account that it’s an adaptation of something bigger?  I mean, I don’t want to give it a lowly aardvark when it could be a cephalopod class game for those who are already fans.  Let me use the power of example:  when dissecting a digital poker game, does one consider the rules of Texas Hold ‘Em, or do they just try and figure out if the game communicates those rules properly?

Big Media would probably just have a paragraph that started with “If you’re not familiar with Magic: The Gathering…”  Screw that.  If you’re not familiar with Magic: The Gathering, you’re probably not reading any of this. Well, you’re either a fan of Magic or a fan of this blog (if it’s the latter, I want you to know that I love you very much, Mom). No one stalks out impressions on games they have never heard of before.   Case in point: the results from the E3 Game Critics Award.  It’s franchise city.  It takes a mindbogglingly original game like Scribblenauts³ to break up the sequel party, and even then it’s not nominated for Best of Show.  A developer could make a game that cures cancer and no one would touch it because it doesn’t feature Solid Snake.

I just read that last sentence back and realized that we are probably doomed.

Uh, much like my opponent in Magic: The Gathering: Duel Of The Planeswalkers was doomed when I cast my 4/4 air elemental!  Back to the review.

This XBLA game is Magic, more or less.  It’s what you’d expect Magic to be if it was a ten dollar downloadable game.  It actually provides a number of smart solutions to the issues that make the paper game frustrating.

The main concern for players is that Magic can be expensive. Four new sets are released a year, each with hundreds of new cards, and a pack of fifteen random cards will run you $3.99. By using only pre-configured decks and not allowing you to customize them (beyond adding in a few cards from your sideboard), Duel of the Planeswalkers avoids that problem. You buy the game for ten dollars and that’s it. New cards are unlocked as you play through the campaign. I’m sure there will be downloadable decks, but I like to imagine those will be bundled with challenges and other additions to the campaign, not just thrown out there as a couple of cards to add to your collection. The presentation here completely kills the collector mentality that makes paper Magic not so fun. If you’re ever in a situation where the rich kid doesn’t win, you’re probably stuck in a teen slasher flick and you should run away as quickly as possible.  More money almost always means a better deck.

One of the smartest design decisions made was the focus on planeswalkers rather than just decks. You are not playing against a mono-red aggro whozywhatsit deck, you’re playing against a wizard who casts spells, summons creatures and is actually represented by an avatar. I thought this was going to be a terrible idea when I saw the list of cringe worthy names. Liliana Vess? Ajani Goldmane? Garruk Wildspeaker?! It’s like a Canadian strip club was sprinkled with pixie dust.  But the concept of putting a face to each of these decks works well.  The single player campaign is almost like a string of boss battles.  It adds not only tension, but also a sense of accomplishment when you defeat these opponents.

You, the player, are a planeswalker as well, which I guess is someone who can’t stay seated during a commercial flight.  I honestly have no idea; the lore behind all this stuff is either not that memorable or eclipsed by the strength of the game mechanics.  The cards have all this stuff going on, and half of it is meaningless stuff meant to inject flavor into the game.  Here’s a breakdown of your average Magic card.

The only things I really care about there are how much damage it can give and receive in combat, what its abilities are and how many resources  it takes to get into play.  The rest is fluff.  I could really give a shit about how some dude wrote a book on skeletons in this fictional world.

The choice of only pre-configured decks also helps avoid the metagame problem. In Magic (as well as any customizable game with competitive focus), trends emerge based on the recently released sets and whatever card combos can be exploited. Video gamers might call such things cheap or broken. But if you want to play in any sort of sanctioned setting (e.g, not with just your friends at the kitchen table), you need to keep up with these things.  It’s disgusting.

People who care about the metagame are not the sort of people I like to play with. They are jerks who want to always win, as quickly as possible, and make millions of dollars from the comfort of their own homes using pay-per-click advertising. I want to have a good time. Get married to someone sweet. Maybe have a few kids, retire to a goat farm in Maine.  What I’m trying to say is:  the best part of Duel of the Planeswalkers is that you can play Magic without interacting with other Magic Players.  The single player game is the draw here, at least for me.

There is something else I should mention:  Magic is a very, very slow game.  Imagine playing solitaire and having to wait five seconds every time you flipped or moved a card.  The 1998 Duel of the Planeswalkers game solved this problem by letting the player choose what phases of the turn they wanted to stop at.  This new title does not.  Instead, you’ve got a limited window after every action to respond.  Play a card and a little dial counts down to when the active player can perform another action. Maybe this is good solution for the online multiplayer section of the game. I wouldn’t know; I prefer playing my nerd games without the thrilling homophobia and racism found on Xbox Live. I do know that this is not a good solution in the single player campaign.

Imagine With Me: you are playing a Japanese role playing game.  There is endless dialog that you probably don’t care about.  Would you rather have the game advance to the next line of dialog when you hit a button on the controller (regardless of if the dialog is finished), or would you prefer to have it automatically move the the next line after ten seconds (with no way to skip through it)?  I realize that your answer is probably turn the game off and play Picross instead, but I’m trying to make a point here.  Those little response windows in Duel of the Planeswalkers may only be a few seconds long, but they drastically slow down the flow of the game.  And when you’re playing what is otherwise a solid strategy game by yourself, that’s a major bonerkiller.  Nothing is worse than being dealt a terrible hand and having to sit through the longest game ever just to end up losing.  That kills the game for me.  I still love it just because it’s Magic, but I find myself getting incredibly bored halfway through longer matches.

So,  back to the original conundrum.  What if you’ve never played paper Magic before?  Will this game appeal to you?  I have no idea, because this shit is in my blood.  But the tutorial seems very concise and well implemented (”Press B to not show this tip again”), the difficulty curve is fair, and the game itself is mostly quite fun.  Though if you’re a veteran Magic player (or someone with a lot of real time strategy experience), you’re better off tracking down the 1998 Duel of the Planeswalkers PC game.  It’s faster, more robust and you can probably find it for under ten dollars on eBay.

1. That’s “Real Time Strategy,” which is a type of game that’s similar to Magic: The Gathering, expect played without cards. [↩]
2. Every tournament legal card seems to stand on it’s own as a playable card, there a plethora of pre-configured theme decks so you don’t need to spend much money to get involved, and the upcoming core set Magic 2010 (you know, like Madden) is a “reboot” which eliminates the more confusing rules and takes the game back to a more Tolkein-esque presentation. [↩]
3. Oh man, I wonder if, in Scribblenauts, you can write “Magic The Gathering” and the onscreen characters will totally throw down.  Scribblenauts seems so awesome that such a situation is entirely possible. [↩]

I’m of the opinion that an emerging medium can prove it’s validity only when held up to the standards of similar works in more established mediums. A youth spent playing video games has convinced me that everything should be balanced, that things can be broken down clearly, that everything has a counterpart. Just as Bulbasaur is the grass-type Mudkip¹, there is a clear, systematic link between works across any medium.  After all, why else would the SATs place such a huge emphasis on analogies? You are to me as we are to everything.

Because of this, I keep a massive spreadsheet tracking such connections, with colums for things like “movies,” “games” and “moku hanga“. I’m sure most of you do the same. There’s been a lot of noise lately over what should go in the “Lester Bangs” and “Citizen Kane” slots under the video game column. I figured I’d give you readers a little peek at my spreadsheet so we can finally lay the argument to rest.

Got it? Good. Since Lester Bangs is the Citizen Kane of people, it makes sense that Doom II, being the Citizen Kane of gaming, would also qualify as the gaming of Lester Bangs. I’m glad I could clear that up for everyone.

Funny thing: while pulling up the spreadsheet to take this screenshot, I realized that there was one glaring omission.  A gaping white hole, laughing at me, saying “Gamers will never experience a work comparable to me!  You may have your alpha, but there will be no omega!”  It’s true.  I stared at that spreadsheet for hours, racking my brain.  I even Google searched the Wikipedia articles on the Twitter feeds…. double dot commed.  I’m at a loss.  So my question for you, dear readers: where is the Leonard Part 6 of gaming?

If you’ve never seen Leonard Part 6, allow me to summarize: Bill Cosby plays former super spy Leonard Parker. He comes out of retirement to battle a demented vegetarian that has somehow trained harmless animals to kill in an effort to wipe humanity off the face of the earth. He eventually invades the secret world vegetarian headquarters and fends everyone off with a piece of steak. Then he flies away on an ostrich as everything explodes. Even though I haven’t experienced the movie since my parents brought a VHS copy home from the video store twenty years ago, I can recall all these scenes vividly. Sort of like the nightmares I have about Tienanmen Square².

Leonard Part 6 set a new standard for for film. It was a disgusting, convoluted mess of an idea squeezed into a two hour Coca-Cola Commercial that people paid money to see. Produced by, story by and starring Bill Cosby, who was (up until the day Leonard Part 6 was released) considered a comedic legend³.

Leonard Part 6 taught me cynicism.

Right now, I approach games with a cheery disposition. “Wonderful until proven otherwise,” if you will. I see screenshots for a new title and salivate. But when I see a film, the minute I step foot into that theater I start looking at my watch. I roll my eyes at the coming attractions, sigh at every line of clunky dialog, flip off the end credits and trash talk the film during the entire ride home. Because I have seen Leonard Part 6. I have stared into the darkness and seen the eyes of the devil, and he has taught me to hate.  I’ve played Superman 64, widely regarded as the worst game ever made. I thought “Wow, I wish the developers had more time to polish this, because the core concept isn’t that bad.” There are good points to Superman 64.  There is nothing good about Leonard Part 6.

Cynicism amplifies the joy of discovery. We need to lower the bar.  Games will never be considered art until they’ve had a spectacular failure like this that completely degrades the industry as a whole, allowing beautiful works to truly stand out⁴.

The fact remains: without gaming’s Leonard Part 6, we will never have our Ghost Dad.

Also, Super Mario Galaxy is racist, there aren’t enough save points in You Have To Burn The Rope, Atari has abandoned the hardcore crowd and narrative gameplay biddily boop.

1. Someone who has actually played Pokemon is going to rip me apart for that one.  Let if be known:  I have no idea what I’m talking about.  I just used that as an example because it’s a bit easier to relate to than ridiculous Final Fantasy spell names.  And its a much more pleasant mental image. [↩]
2. They involve Bomberman holding up his little pink paw to the tank, then getting crushed to death.  I’m not even joking. [↩]
3. Not to mention a damn fine dramatic actor. Check out I Spy on DVD and tell me it’s not awesome. [↩]
4. I’ve considered ET for the Atari 2600, but ruled it out due to it being an adaptation of an existing work.  We need something along the lines of Kojima teaming up with Clint Hocking to make Poop Till You Scoot: The Game. [↩]

Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out was one of those staple games of my youth, along with Tetris and Metroid and Worms and Bomberman and other things I can barely remember.  The sort of game that was ever-present… my friends and I would gather around the little TV after school and trade turns trying to get to the final showdown with Tyson.  When it would actually happen (which was not often), it was a collective victory.  We all cheered and congratulated each other even though only one person scored the actual winning blow.

I rarely played it myself. I was never good at games that relied on strong reflexes. I mostly watched.  But I could appreciate the intense strategy that went into this title.  It was not a boxing game… it was more like extremely fast paced chess.  You could be aggressive or defensive, but either way you couldn’t win the match without understanding your opponent.  There is a counter for every move, and a way to circumvent the approach of every character.  It’s rhythmic, poetic, beautiful.

The characters themselves were indeed questionable. No one denies this.  Especially once we discovered emulation and experienced the original arcade titles. The towering Russian, Soda Popinski, was originally named Vodka Drunkenski. Great Tiger, the mystical Indian, wore a jeweled turban and appeared to have a gutted tiger in his corner of the ring. There was even an Italian character named Pizza Pasta. That’s not even clever! Just… awkward.

Those characters, however, did not matter. In retrospect, its refreshing to think that such ethnicities were represented at all. How often do you see a Polynesian anything in a game?¹ The characters were just there so you had a frame of reference when talking shop with your friends.”Bald Bull tried two rolling jabs right off the bat, but I countered the second one and got a star.”  When you hear Bald Bull, you think “the boxer that does the Bull Charge,” not “that ridiculous Turkish caricature.”  Or maybe not.  Those were simpler times, before privilege was even in my vocabulary.  Sometimes it’s okay to go back to that for a little while.

My friends and I spent a lot of time with this game.   I’m talking years.  We had expectations of one another, and a common pool of knowledge to pull strategy from. If you made it to round two and Glass Joe was still standing, you were doing something wrong.  We had stories of legendary matches that became comically exaggerated as time went on.  “I was almost out, and I see Mr. Sandman gearing up for the Dreamland Express, and as he’s coming at me with the first uppercut… wham!  I right hook him and he’s instantly KO’d and I get a million points and my name was in Nintendo Power!  Remember that, guys?  It was awesome.”  We became the veteran boxer stereotypes that the game drew inspiration from.

This new Punch-Out… it is something special. All the same characters, but with a few tweaks.  I’m not capable of objectively evaluating an iteration of this franchise, so let me sidestep with an anecdote: I vividly recall a conversation with my friend Ryan as he was going into the second round against Super Macho Man, sometime in the summer of 1997. “Dude, what if… instead of pressing buttons to throw punches, you could, like… just punch at the screen?” Crazy talk!

We all dreamed of things like this. Don’t deny it.  And I don’t think we give the Wii enough credit for enabling such fantasies. It’s not gimmicky… it what gamers like myself have wanted for a long time.

The main point to take away from this is that games can foster relationships in an extremely unique way, and revisiting old IP isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  So much so that, as soon as I finish writing this entry, I am hopping on a train to go see those same friends, the ones I played Punch-Out with as a kid. I’ve got my Wii and a copy of the new game in my bag. We have all grown old, gotten fat. My hair is predominately gray now and I seem to look tired all the time. But tonight we will tell ourselves that we’re teenagers again.

So here’s your box quote, Nintendo:  “Punch-Out is familiar enough to make you miss your youth, but new enough to help you find it again.”

1. Master Higgins does not count [↩]