Gameology 2.0

Finally. I've done it. With the help of the most excellent UHS (hint system), I've mananged to complete MYST URU, Cyan's venture into 3-D. Before I dive into a commentary on the rather intriguing interface, let me just give the low-down on the game itself: While it does a lot of things right, the things it does wrong are done so HORRIBLY wrong that the result is a stinkbomb of a title. It really is a let-down after the last Myst game, Exile, which was actually "outsourced" by Cyan to a wonderful company named Presto. I was really hoping that Cyan had learned something from Exile, which still represents (to me, at least), the best out of the first three games. They didn't learn anything...Nothing at all. URU is an unmitigated disaster.

From what I've read, URU started off as a multiplayer online game; a sort of Everquest-style adventure game. I guess Cyan was trying to change the lonely, existential feeling of its past games by dumping the game online and populating it with random people from the net. I'm not sure how this was supposed to work. My guess is people like me would be running around to people who seemed to know the game and bugging them for hints or answers. I'm still scratching my head, though. Multiplayer adventure game? Seems like a really bad idea from the get-go, really. Unfortunately (or perhaps not!), Cyan pulled the plug on that operation and tried to salvage their efforts in the single player URU, which has the same existential atmosphere of the rest of their games. Don't get your hopes up at the start of the game when you meet an NPC, an old fat guy leaned up against a trailer who dispenses advice to get you through the introduction. It's never clear where the guy came from, and once you're done with the intro you never see him or any other living person again. Bleh. Just as well--he had the AI of a wumpus.

Knowing the history behind the development of URU helps explain the inanity of some of its gameplay aspects. For instance, unlike other MYST games, this one forces you to choose an avatar and at least play some of the game (I'll say more about this later) in third-person mode (think Tomb Raider with about 1/3 of the precision). URU's avatar-generator is pretty sophisticated, and it's fun to tinker around with different bodily proportions, tones, and wardrobe. I managed to create an avatar that beared a fair enough resemblance to my wife (sans curly hair).

During the game, you can switch from first-person perspective to third-person. FP is actually far superior to third-person for a number of reasons. For one, it's much easier to see where you're going and easier to quickly scan an area. It also feels much more immersive, and the control options are very intuitive. You simply left click to start moving forward, and use the mouse to steer. You can also hold down the right button to look around--or you can use the keyboard and assign the familiar FPS setup.

Unfortunately, Cyan did something really incorrigible. Apparently, they were so enamored with their avatar system (the manual explains that you "ought" to play 3rd person and that it's better, etc.), Cyan made it impossible to get very far in the game if you limit yourself to FP. Several buttons and such are only operable if you are in third-person. To make matters worse, there is no consistency here. Some buttons work fine in FP; others won't "hot light" at all. What this means is that everytime you encounter an object that might be manipulable (totally no consistency there, either), you have to switch to 3rd. Perhaps more bizarrely, though--sometimes the game will automatically switch you to first; for example, if you're facing a panel or reading a sheet of paper. But wait--there's more!

Cyan foolishly decided to maintain at least one MYST tradition: You can't carry any items (Why the $@$@#)@ not??) But this didn't stop them from making several puzzles that involve moving objects around. So, how can you move things around if you can't pick them up or push them? Knock them around with your feet and knees, of course! It's like playing soccer without the ability to kick. At least one puzzle involves moving two different crates that will serve as a bridge. You have to move them a LONG way, down some dimly lit corridors. Needless to say, the knee-bumping manuever is clumsy at best, and it took me almost an hour to get the damn things in place. The "knee bumping" technique of moving objects around DEFINITELY gets a full five hits on my "crack pipe" test for adventure game development. I just can't believe Cyan could have been so utterly pathetic. But wait--there's more!

If you hit the space bar, your character jumps up, and with a little practice, you can jump around. Naturally enough, with a feature like this, Cyan had to use every opportunity to exploit it. Now, if the controls had been as excellent as Tomb Raider's, this would've been a good thing. But they're not; oh, no, not even close. Your avatar can't catch a ledge like Lara, nor can she move as smoothly--and the camera tends to go nuts and prevent you from getting a good enough view to determine the right distance or angle (more switching between perspectives is the only way). Furthermore, it's completely arbirtrary where you can jump and what you can jump over. At times you will jump an amazing distance and fall far enough to break a person's knee, yet that's what you're supposed to do. After a sixteen-foot leap down a chasm, you'll find yourself unable to hop over a two-foot railing or climb over a three-foot crate.

The crate scenarios deserve their own paragraph. One of the objectives of each world are to touch five save points sprinkled throughout each. Save points are annoying enough as it is; I want to save when *I* want to save, thank you, Cyan. Anyway, some of these points are out in the open while others are hidden like easter eggs. Well, a few are located on high platforms, so you know jumping will be involved. One that really made me biting mad was located on top of a pile of crates. Now, you'd think this would be simple enough; just hop on the crates and wham! you're done. Oh, no. You see, seemingly at random, some of the crates can be jumped on (or over) while others seem to have an invisible force field around them. Getting to the point took me almost an hour of trial and error to find the one path that let me hop over just the right sections of crate. It was enough to make me scream in frustration, and totally senseless. For God's sake, if you're going to require me to jump and climb, at least make doing so a little less like a root canal!

Your avatar tends to jerk and stumble around like a marionette being controlled by three drunken madmen with aspirations for the avant garde. It's painful to watch your avatar shuffle around as she tries to get into position behind a panel. It's painful to see her running-in-place directly into a wall. It's just painful.

I could go in this way for several more pages, but I won't, because this game's not worth it. Besides the problems with control, though, I have to mention the startling lack of coherence. For instance, even though the D'ni (the people whose tombs you are exploring) possess the technology to mass-produce video phones that let you talk to people in other times and worlds, flashlights or torches are nonexistent (and I guess it wouldn't matter since you couldn't carry one anyway!) One level (the most frustrating and inane by far) is particularly obnoxious in this regard, leaving you to bump around in pitchblack corridors until you manage to lure some fireflies from another world to come along with you (believe me, this part is just as stupid as it sounds).

The storyline, or should I say, story background, has its refreshing moments, though this consists of reading far too much text that ends up having little to nothing to do with completing the game. In fact, I can't think of how any of this text helped me in the least; I could've ignored it, but then I'd have missed out on one of the rare pleasures in this game. I was disappointed quite often by what became a familiar pattern: Read text and see illustrations on the walls that pointed towards a really intriguing development, then find out it's basically just decoration and all I had to do was find the silly save points and exit. Vavoom.

The main character, who is the grown-up and long dead daughter of Atrus and Catherine, turns out to be one of the most annoying characters in all of Myst. I had absolutely zero compulsion to do her bidding, yet that's all you can do. She's not "mysterious" or "intriguing," which is how Cyan obviously wants you to take her. No, Yeesha (I think that's her name) is a dopey punk who thinks way too much of herself (and, far worse, her Vogon-style poetry). I was gagging through most of her extremely long-winded exposes, which amount to "Humans suck, there was a perfectly legitimate insectoid race living here before and we need to get off these worlds and let them have make a comeback." Uh, okay. I care about these insect people because? Maybe it would've helped, SLIGHTLY, if we learned anything at all about them? Or even actually seen one? I guess the moral here is "People are by nature greedy, so it's better that they all die off. By the way, die." I'm serious.

Okay, I've ranted long enough. Let me say a few good things about the game--and believe me, there are some wonderful things here. One aspect of URU that really impressed me was the sound and music. Both are phenomenal. The sounds are dead-on and add heaps to the atmosphere--if not define it! The music is on a level with the best of Tangerine Dream or Klaus Schulze; moody electronica with a long-lasting resonance and just enough melody to hold your attention. I can't imagine how the sound or music could have been better. It's sensational and raises the bar for all games of this sort.

The graphics are of course top-notch, and I'd be wrong not to give them their due praise. One of the worlds involves two huge, slowly rotating fortresses. At one point in the game, you are standing on a plateau between these fortresses, with the forest all around. The whole area is absolutely amazing to behold. When I saw it for the first time, I was truly awestruck. Unfortunately, these feelings were immediately followed by a rather dismal, "What a waste..."

Other cool features include (on some worlds) a gradual day and night cycle. This may look nice, but turns out to be a pain, since it's hard to see some of the time and there's no way to camp out or sleep until it's day again. One world features realistic thunder and rain, though the rain doesn't have any effect on your character (though it will chase away the damn fireflies..sigh).

Some of the reviews I read for the game praised the realistic looking water. While I definitely find it more realistic than the still-graphics of Exile and earlier Myst titles, it looks a lot more like gelatin to me.

As a game, Uru is truly a major disaster. As an experiment in interface design, it has its purpose, though I'm afraid many of these experiments failed miserably--however, I can still see potential here. For instance, I'd like the option to switch from FP to TP if the game were still fully playable in both modes. However, I'd want more Tombraider style control if we're going to include jumping and platform style elements. It'd also be nice to have more control of the camera; why not a floating eye that can travel right through walls? I'd also like to see Cyan give up and incorporate a damn inventory, or at least let your avatar carry an item. The knee-bumping is rididulous and deserves whatever lampooning it receives.

From the reviews I've read, the two expansion packs that follow this game are much better than the first. I'm hoping that's the case--but I'll let you know.