Cave Story (****)

A video game "review"

Doukutsu Monogatari (Cave Story) for the PC

developed by Studio Pixel

published by Studio Pixel

score: **** (Game of the Year 2004)

I've decided to wind the clock back about five years and write a review about a game that I enjoy. Being back to work full time, and out of school for a little while, I'm using my time to do all I've ever really wanted to do anyways, play video games. Hell, I figured that out when I was a lot younger, although I suspect I've been an adult for quite a while!

Cave Story is about as pure as the modern video game can strife to be. In an era where we are bombarded by bullshit from every direction from pretty much everything, it's like a dip in the cold pool on the warmest summer day to see something like Cave Story. Let's look a bit at the nature of the game and we'll quickly become aware of why it is what it is. In the time of huge, multi-million dollar productions, Cave Story was cobbled together by the efforts and free time of one man, Daisuke Amaya, the aforementioned Studio Pixel. Obviously, there's a lot of love that went into Cave Story. Its ideas aren't really new, just startlingly well executed.

Before we delve further (well, at all I guess) into this review, I'm going to take a few minutes of your time and talk about absolutely nothing. I'm notoriously good at talking about nothing, after all.

So, another year has gone and passed, without much incident to myself. A bit of a change in the plans of my "life" have led to me being out of school for a little while. I'm going to be going back in the fall, hopefully to start my way to procuring a Journalism degree. After that, I think I might move to Japan or something. To be drop dead serious for a minute, Canada is kind of boring. No offense, I do actually like where I live but man, is it ever boring. Why do you think it is that I play video games all the time? Gotta occupy myself somehow, and it seems to be the only way I'm coming up with (okay lifting weights and running, as well as working, whatever). So, my plan is to get out of Canada and move somewhere where I'm gonna be barely visible in the general population. Right now, my concerns are so tiny that I just can't bring myself to really care.

I was just checking my laundry in the designated room in my apartment building. Apparently, leaving my laundry unattended for an hour when the dry cycle takes forty five minutes is some sort of cardinal, loathing sin. Someone left me a note explaining how inconsiderate I was! Stuff like this, these small little bumps and concerns in life just feel so fake. Is this really what adulthood is about? Just shuffling through miniscule things like this?

Cave Story is a nice way to get away from growing old, a certain little piece of that friendly childhood nostalgia. Like I mentioned, it doesn't do a whole lot that is wholly original. Where its genius lies is in the care of how its elements are put together. Currently, I'm thoroughly upset with the video game scene for its treatment of sequels. Basically, instead of creating new, unique games and properties , the real way to make any money (which is all the developers really care about) is to make something popular and expand it beyond any reasonable limits. I mean, god, look at Mario. Isn't it about time that we get tired of Mario games? I know I am! I can reasonably assume that people are getting tired of me talking about Mario games too!

Let's stop painting in broad strokes and talk about the details regarding Cave Story being one of the greatest video games of all time. It's ambition was, as far as I can tell, to pay tribute to the games of old. Its design brings memories of Metroid and Megaman rushing into your brain, without being a blatant copy of either of them. We start Cave Story with a character attempting to make conversation with another through the use of instant messaging on a computer. We have no idea who this character is or who he's trying to get in touch with. Are we going to be this man at the computer?

We wake up, somewhere in the world. Surrounded by caves, we are unaware of who exactly we are. We have no weapon and we're most certainly alone. A really inquisitive person can figure out a few things about this first room in the game: how to use the save and healing points, and they can also decide, if they want to, to die in the first room. Anyways, you quickly figure out how to get out of the room (what game stumps a player in its first room? Either a very bad or very cruel one.) and you try to get a bearing on your surroundings. Maybe you try going right first and find that you can't proceed that way. Enemies and an unbreakable (at the moment) wall hinder your path. You go to the left, looking for a weapon. You might, if you're hasty, proceed down the first hill, hit a patch of spikes (which are blood red in color, to denote just how dangerous they can be) and die. Next time, you'll be more careful. Eventually, you weave through a path of spikes and enemies and you find a gun in another room. It's in a treasure box (one can never resist the allure of a treasure box). From here on out, Cave Story is yours to play.

One of the greatest nuances in Cave Story is how one goes about obtaining any one of the three endings. One is incredibly blatant, easy to obtain, and completely unsatisfying. I doubt many people get this ending when they play, simply because it is just as easy to avoid as it is to obtain. The second ending is the standard ending, complete with a great final boss fight and an ending to the story that seems conclusive. It's also quite challenging, in its own right. To obtain this ending, all you really have to do is follow what the game logically sets up for you. The real genius is that in order to obtain the real, and quite viciously difficult ending, you must understand the influences on this game, particularly its Metroid influence.

Let's talk about Metroid. Specifically, the very first Metroid game. Everyone always tends to talk about Super Metroid or the Prime series, so we're not going to. Metroid was this weird, notoriously obtuse game where in order to progress, you basically had to search every square inch of the screen and hope that something you were able to do would let you through. Mainly, you could bomb walls that looked no different from the walls you couldn't bomb. It was Metroid where it seemed like we can see the evolution of compulsive behavior in video games, the kind that persists even today. Take any of the Pokémon games, where the whole aim is to "catch them all". At first, that was one hundred fifty. Now, that number is in the four hundreds (sorry I don't know the exact number, I haven't played a Pokémon game in what seems like forever). Even after you catch them, you're presented with the next challenge, even more insurmountable, "can I make these Pokémon good in battle?". That's actually pretty brilliant game design. What would it be like if all you could do was collect the Pokémon? It's pretty doubtful that anyone would even want to play it. The battles are the real meat of the game!

In Cave Story, you have different weapons. Consider them the "pocket monsters" of the game. Chances are, your first time through the game, you won't collect them all. Actually, on a realistic note, it's impossible to obtain every weapon in Cave Story on the same playthrough. So there's always that, but even then; you may miss the opportunities to get certain weapons. Straightforward thinking will get you nowhere. Now, not only do you have a multitude of weapons, these weapons also have levels. You know what that means, right? If not, I'll explain it in a very matter of fact way. Kill an enemy, they drop triangular crystals of "experience", pick them up, pick up enough of them while holding a weapon and it will increase in level, thereby increasing in power. The opposite can also be true, getting hit by your enemies will drop your weapon experience (as well as your health). Pretty damn simple game mechanic, but really well done.

The weird thing is, to me, that you'll likely have some weapons you never really want to bother with. The very precise usefulness of several of the weapons will likely have you disregarding them, picking up the experience for your other weapons and using them instead. That's a pretty acceptable choice! We don't discredit you for sticking to the weapons you actually enjoy. Now, back to the Pokémon analogy I was making earlier, have you ever stopped to wonder why there are so many damn Pokémon? Half of them, I bet, get ignored by the general playing populace because they're useless. Having been a big fan of the games, I'll go ahead and confirm that assumption. People get together and play in tournaments, pitting their game monsters against each other. In these tournaments, the Legendary Pokémon are pretty much always banned because they're too good. They can learn too many good moves and coupled with their high stats, it makes them far too ready for any situation. So, people have learned ways to train the other monsters into being useful. The legendary monsters are basically just there to make the meta-game (think of it as the game after the game) easier. Pokémon games don't actually end in a traditional sense, you beat the final boss and you're given the option to just kind of keep playing forever, raising more monsters and trying to get ready to take on all challengers, which is pretty heroic sounding. Now, picture yourself as being an avid player. You've built up a team of six different monsters that you consider to be "pretty awesome". You engage another, actual real life human player in a battle (no doubt your first human contact in roughly six months time (this is a well constructed joke)) and they stomp your ass into the ground. What kind of lesson does that teach you? Likely nothing.

Cave Story is all about teaching a lesson. Going way back in this review, to where I was talking about Metroid and its definitive trait, I'm pretty sure that's the lesson that Cave Story is trying to tell us. Make sure that you take the time out of your busy schedule of trying to finish this game before your friends to actually look around. Make sure to leave no stone unturned, or else you're going to have to settle with the regular ending (which is still pretty good). It's a reinforcement of the one value a lot of people I know, a lot of people worldwide left behind when we became "adults": our curiosity.

You may be noticing that this review is lacking in the "wit" that I've displayed in my previous reviews. Don't worry, we'll be getting to the paragraphs constructed simply to force along painful one-liners and absurd generalizations. Let's talk about video games for a little while, you and I. There's been a lot of painful talk lately that the gaming industry in Japan is in trouble. I'm not really at liberty to say whether or not that's entirely true, but it seems to be the general consensus going around. Economically, it's not that hard to see why.

Keita Takahashi, a favorite developer of mine despite his criminally limited body of work (Katamari Damacy, Noby Noby Boy) has said of the medium: "...I believe videogames should always be a medium that everyone around the world can understand and enjoy. Forget the money side of things, games should just be pure fun and enjoyment." That, right there, is the attitude I wish was prevailing in the industry today. No wonder it's going downhill, every company is really just aiming for the same thing and that's making money. Hopefully millions of dollars, so that they can go on vacation, buy fancier cars, and keep making video games so that they can make more money. There are very few developers who can go against the grain and make exactly what they want. The modern day video game needs to do a few, key things to really appease the players:

1. give the player the sense that they are always accomplishing something

2. engage them, no matter what the situation

3. be presentable (kind of like NOT going to a fancy business party dressed in faded jeans, circa the early '80s)

The gamer is literally obsessed with being rewarded at pretty much every juncture. Final Fantasy XIII, which is a good game but not a great one constantly gives the player a feeling of accomplishment with the ranking system employed in the battles. That is, until you figure out that the rankings are completely and utterly insignificant. Say for example, you get a five star ranking in one battle, and then in a battle with the exact same enemies, you get a two star rating for whatever reason. You will receive the same amount of Crystal Points (there is no experience in Final Fantasy XIII) regardless and the item drops, if they happen, will not be different, so why have the ranking system? Simply put, to make the gamer seem as if they're accomplishing something, plus it gives them some sort of weird aspiration to do better (I should know, I have played it). Five stars is obviously better than two! Final Fantasy XIII does the three listed objects incredibly well, during battles against who knows what (the design in the game is stellar in a very creative sense) you are very damn engaged because it is just impressively flashy. I mean god, is the game ever white hot.

So, what's the matter with being accessible to the average gamer? If you're trying to make money (we've laid the groundwork to see that that is absolutely the case) it's certainly not the wrong path to be taking, but we've also seen that in order to be truly accessible we must sacrifice a certain bit of creativity. Sometimes, the truly creative individual (Keita Takahashi, for example) will think something up where the appeal of the game is the creativity or abstract nature of the game itself. Katamari Damacy didn't become a damn near sensation because of its easy play mechanics, it was the culture behind it. It was a weird, inventive game based around the simple mechanic of "roll things up, get bigger, roll up bigger things". It was artistic. It was a modern art video game and it'll likely be appreciated for years to come. A recent game which has "rejected" accessibility is From Software's Demon Souls, a grandiose PS3 exclusive that might be a front runner for the "Best Video Game of 2009". It is at this point I draw attention to this review's illustrious score (****) and the following line of "Game of the Year 2004". So, back to Demon's Souls because talking about the video game you're actually reviewing is so cliché and I'm attempting to be as edgy and unlikable as possible!

Some people have said that Demon's Souls has no place in modern gaming because it is frequently an unrewarding, challenging catastrophe. You can and will die without much alarm and it is as unceremonious as possible because it becomes a common event. However, dying is simply a part of the game, so much that it is impossible to actually lose the game. The only way to lose to Demon's Souls is to stop playing it. You are actually being rewarded on a near constant basis in Demon's Souls, just the nature of those rewards can sometimes be too subtle to truly appreciate it. Learning where a certain enemy lurks and how it attacks, while still dying in the process is one such example. You can overcome that obstacle once you come to understand its nature. Eventually, you progress in a quantifiable amount and then you fucking die, again. It's a frustrating feeling, but you'll get used to it. You may finally amass enough souls (the game's universal currency, it is used for everything under the sun) to get a new weapon or upgrade an integral stat. This may or may not enable you to make a little more headway.

I believe personally that Demon's Souls is a game for everyone, because it's a more engaging experience than a lot of games out there and the character options are wide enough to give a variety of play styles, so it can encompass a lot of people's desires. 

So, back to Cave Story (collective reading audience: "Finally."). The point I've been trying to make about accessibility is that Cave Story understands what that means. To be truly open to the gaming populace, you must offer them the choice of how to play the game, their way. The multiple weapons operate in such vastly differing ways from other ones that a player can carve out a particular combat style. The truly curious gamer will pick up on the clever integrated mechanics that you go about to find the secrets and head to the perfect ending, which requires skill as well as cunning. At one point, you can either accept a jet pack from an NPC (who you're likely going to talk to) or make a difficult jump that is cleverly marked out by a strange mark on the ground which shows you when you need to jump in order to the clear the gap, totally ignoring the NPC. Get the jet pack, and the jump becomes simple. That decision alone will cost you the best ending. Is that fair? Absolutely, because the game is built in such a way that you're supposed to question it.

Japan and video games are nearly synonymous. There has been a major upswing in the presence of the Western developers later, coinciding with the "death of the Japanese games industry". Is there any real relation to this? We can look at the current tastes of the gamer and see that it may have some sort of relationship, yes. The success of the Modern Warfare games is namely the obsession with the first person shooter coming to a forefront and that's what people want to play. Largely, I think the big thing right now is playing games with others. MAG, just recently released, emphasizes its humongous player to map ratio (256 players on one map). However, this trend seems to be relatively limited to the market outside of Japan. People in Japan seem to be relatively secure with playing by themselves (there was really no working outside of that innuendo, was there?). The remake of Dragon Quest VI, the best selling game of 1995, was just released for the Nintendo DS console. In its first day, the Japanese bought roughly a million copies. Have I ever mentioned that the Dragon Quest games sell ridiculously in Japan? A little research shows that no numbered Dragon Quest games (parts of the main series) have sold under a million copies in their homeland of Japan. Every game that comes out, the numbers seem to go up. Hell, Dragon Quest IX for the Nintendo DS (the world's most popular console) has sold like 4 something million copies and it came out in July. It's not even out in North America yet. I mean, there's some sort of phenomena going on there.The Dragon Quest games, however, don't sell the greatest over in our half of the world, they never have and likely they probably never will. Blame it on the seclusive nature of the games, blame it on the formula that hasn't been updated much since the first game came out in 1986 and was referred to as being archaic even all the way back then.

So, what have we figured out about video games? That you can usually fit them into two molds, seclusive or what we'll call "friendly" games. Cave Story is a seclusive game, both in design and in atmosphere. You will spend some of the best hours of your life playing it.

Let's talk about something specific within Cave Story, actually. Since we've been spending the majority of the review talking about nothing, let's take time out of our busy schedule to talk about something. I'm sitting here missing some skin on my right hand (never rotate an analog stick with your palm at warp-speed) and I'm not really feeling the whole process right now. It hurts, seriously. 

=(

Add to the fact that it's almost three o'clock in the morning and I'm wide awake; which is probably the best possible time to do any writing of any sort...this is really sort of aggravating. So, Cave Story, yeah.

INTERMISSION

So, what exactly makes Cave Story the "Game of the Year, 2004"? That's a hefty title to bestow upon anything. As a note, I'm going by the initial release (and so far, only) of the game, which was December 2004 in Japan. The game hasn't gotten an American release yet, although I've heard rumors to watch the WiiWare channel on Nintendo's Wii console. Cave Story's independent translation by the grand group over at Aeon Genesis saw release in early 2005, so we're going to strictly regard Cave Story as a game of 2004. The game, actually.

What was I doing in the year 2004? Being nineteen years old now (what a boring time of life), I'd have been fourteen. Last year of junior high school, if I recall. Back when the only real thing I was capable of was being picked on (slight exaggeration). 2004 was a year where I couldn't have cared less about things. Definitely, at fourteen, I would not have invisioned my nineteen year old writing reviews like this. Cave Story is the realization of a great invisioning. Secrets have longed played humongous roles in video games.  

Used to be, that secrets were considered the norm for design. However, despite their secretive nature, many things you were forced to accomplish in games of old were the only means of getting ahead. Video game magazines were prospering back then, before the advent of video gaming websites where the answers were just a click away. Kids would buy, or maybe even steal these magazines just go get through that one dungeon in the original Legend of Zelda, or find all the secrets in Super Mario Bros. 3 (what a great game). Cave Story is such a great loveletter to that feeling.

Daisuke Amaya showed great ability in Cave Story. His artwork was unique and beautiful, he had an ear for music that led to some catchy tunes and great atmosphere, and his storytelling was simple, yet as bold as his art. Cave Story told us a simple story, but it did it well. The convoluted plots of the modern JRPG have rarely (if ever) been told this well. The plot of Cave Story is there to compell us through the game, probably nothing more. We can all assume that Amaya-kun was not trying to really send a message, or change our lives, simply; his game needed a story because why else would the player really bother? And if the story is well told, it is that much more appealing.

Ikachan, Amaya's first video game was released in the year 2000. The namesake character, Ikachan, is a friendly squid who tries to help his other aquatic friends. It is quaint, cute, and designed interestingly. Ikachan's controls, at the start of the game, forbid fully horizontal movement. A weird hindrance, that once you play the game, feels only natural. Some game developers give us far too much, the smartest ones will take enough away to make us truly appreciate what we have (once again, I'll shout to Keita Takahashi at this point, who should be reading this...seriously though anyone who can look at a PS2 controller, and devise awesome gameplay while ignoring every face button is a genius). Cave Story takes a lot away from us, and never once does it try to give it back. You cannot, for example, shoot diagonally. Every primary direction (downwards shots can only be done in the air, but still, they're doable and with one weapon can actually act as a slight hover) can be used for attacking, but you're not allowed to attack diagonally (which would be mighty useful and perhaps even a bit of a game-breaker. Hence why it's not there.). You can, however, fight what appears to be an anthropomorphic lunch-box/toaster. That is ten times more awesome than it sounds!

The best weapon in Cave Story is a special gun called the Nemesis. You can obtain it at only one area in the game, rather specifically, it's pretty much where you start the game. When you obtain your first weapon, you steal it from a sleeping weaponsmith. This area of the game becomes unaccessible for the longest time after you leave it. So long, in fact, that you might not even ever think of returning there. Suppose, perhaps, you do. The weaponsmith has awakened, and he's a bit peeved at your thievery. He chews you out, and you get your fingers ready to just flip the dude off, walk away, and perhaps fuck his wife (childish humor is what you readers want, eh?). Earlier in the game, you traded the Polar Star (the first gun) to another character for her machinegun, because you thought "damn would I want a machinegun" and then the game offered it to you. Hours ago, you made a mistake which would defy you the best weapon in the game.

Second time through, on your way to trying to get the best ending (which you should definitely have the Nemesis for) you decide to keep the Polar Star. You go back to the weaponsmith when the opportunity presents itself, and he chews you out. Again. Then he notices that you've put his weapon to extraordinarily good use. He is impressed, inspired. He says that he never actually finished the weapon, so he grabs it from you and completes it, granting you the Nemesis. In a game where levelling up the weapons you obtain to gain their true abilities is imperative, the Nemesis totally ignores that concept. Its levels are based on how long you hold the fire button (initially set as the X button on your keyboard). This enables you to switch its performance based on the situation. Need rapid-fire? Slam that button.

Cave Story is, like Demon's Souls, a game you only lose when you stop playing it. It is rewarding in ways you can't initially comprehend. It is more than just a satisfying experience. Ten to fifteen years ago, I remember when I first played Earthbound, for the SNES. Earthbound, for the record, is my favorite video game of all time. It is **** (The Best Game Ever Made). Much of what makes Earthbound for me is encapsulated solely in my life. Beating the game at roughly 4 AM, holding the controller, sweating what I can only recall as profusely (the last battle is intense on a psychological level, especially for an eight or nine year old me), I can look at the moment and say that it may be my life, captured in one frame. Is that an incredibly lame, nerdy thing to say? Probably. What is Cave Story, to me, in terms of my life? For all I've tried to say about it, and for all I've tried to avoid the subject in the fear of saying too much, or in the fear of saying it wrong...rambling for the sake of it, because like I said, "reviewing" a game is too cliché. Explaining an experience is so much more rewarding. As I sit on Facebook, and it tells me to get in touch with friends by "sending them a message", despite the fact I know that specific friend doesn't even use the account, I'm left with a feeling that I should maybe send that message. Adulthood is learning that you may not be able to stay friends with everyone. Adulthood is learning to use the time you have to try and keep your friends. Adulthood is those mild inconveniences and those choices which may spread further than you understand.

Cave Story is not adulthood, it is everything you wanted in your childhood. Perplexing and accessible, engaging and exciting. And to sum it all up:

Cave Story is..."well, it's carefully devised art."

Thanks for reading.