February 16th, 2010
Finally, I’ve said all that I need to say about Okami, and then some. The final scrappy remarks can be found below:
The nonlinear storytelling framework famously used in Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, is also used in Okami, albeit, a little bit differently. The basic idea is that the main story is a narration, and at some point the narration ends and another dimension is added to the story through the ensuing events. In Okami, after the credits roll, Issun, the travelling artist, is revealed to be the narrator. Because Issun narrates Okami‘s story as well as painting it to scroll, his position after the events of the main storyline are subtly revealed: he takes the place of his father, passing down the story of Amaterasu and teaching the younger sprites of their purpose.
After I finished Okami, I looked up a guide to see what secrets were lying under the hood. This play guide by zukowskc at GameFAQs, featured a neat little chart which I though would be worth discussing:
This chart rates each individual hour of Okami‘s play length out of ten, effectively mapping out the interest levels of the player over the time of play. I agree with most of the rankings, but more importantly, I love the way zukowskc’s chart outlines the stamina phenomena I described in my prior post.
It’s worth noting that throughout Okami there is a decent amount of backtracking. Fortunately, obstacles requiring brush techniques acquired later in the game are scattered throughout the earlier hub areas, ensuring that backtracking isn’t a time hole, but instead an opportunity to re-approach old areas with new abilities. I discussed this previously in regards to Metroid Prime 3 as well.
Stylistically people claim that Okami is unique, I disagree somewhat. In the same way Super Mario Galaxy is an evolution of Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat (and before that Pikmin 2), Okami is an evolution of artistic techniques established in Viewtiful Joe. Many of the same tricks, such as the pre-rendering and cel-shading, are shared amongst both games.
Get me that OST
It only took me a few hours into Okami to decide that I adamantly wanted to buy the original soundtrack. I don’t make a habit of buying video game OSTs, except for my personal favourites and it’s right there where Okami belongs. The music is a mix of Zelda and Final Fantasy Tactics with a nature themeatic.
Back of the Manual
There’s a really genuine explanation of Okami‘s cultural origins at the back of the instruction manual which is a really clever, necessary addition on Capcom’s part.
February 14th, 2010
With most of the analysis pushed to one side we can finally get down to what you really want to see: a fight off, Okami Vs Zelda: Twilight Princess.
I’m afraid that Gordon Freeman has killed my faith in the democratic system, so instead I’m going to state my views and maybe you can leave a comment, if I let you. ^_^ (No seriously, if you’ve played both games then please do weigh in).
Over a month ago, I made the following statement about Zelda: Twilight Princess in my 2009 wrap-up:
“Zelda for the conservatives, the game you were hoping for was made by Capcom and called Okami, you should go play it. Otherwise, engaging in a familiar way, no one does it better than the best.”
And I definitely stand by my assertion. Zelda: Twilight Princess, whilst a standout game, innovates minutely, intentionally adhering to the traditional formula and visual style as requested by fans. By ditching the principles of the Wind Waker, Link and Nintendo ate their souls, their souls!!
And so I still feel crushed.
Okami is therefore something of a spiritual sequel to Wind Waker, while Twilight Princess is unashamedly the sequel to Ocarina of Time. Okami innovates in areas where one would’ve expected Twilight Princess to. Plus, Issun is my favourite video game character ever, a fact which I only last considered when I was 7 years old (and for reference, Wario was my former favourite character).
And yet “no one does it better than the best”.
It’s ironic then that I actually prefer Zelda: Twilight Princess. Ironic on many levels:
- My preference suggests that I’d prefer Ocarina of Time 2 over Wind Waker 2
- I’d consider Okami as the game which advances the genre, whereas Twilight Princess is the pinnacle of the Zelda series
- I have left-wing political views and am yet vouching for a game which idealises conservatism
- I feel that Issun is an invariably better side-kick than Midna, even though majority supports the opposing view
- Amaterasu has more personality than (human) Link, even though Ammy is a wolf
As great as Okami is, as I analysed in my prior post, Okami feels so lethargic that it drags the whole experience down. On top of that, Okami cut player morale early on with the confusing fake finale—we’re emotional creatures and Okami‘s “betrayl” soured my interest.
Despite my temperament, Zelda: Twilight Princess has only ever worked in win me over, it’s frankly a giant dose of well-iterated comfort food; 60hrs of the most refined and enjoyable adventuring this industry has come to know. Sure, I felt bothered by the tricky roadblocks, but I never felt discontent. Zelda: Twilight Princess is a meal that was both delicious and filling. Okami was also a great meal, but one that filled me up too quickly and burnt my lip.
February 12th, 2010
The similarities between Okami and Zelda: Twilight Princess are incredible, to say the least. More so, after you’ve considered the calibre of their developers and the close proximity in which the two games were released. I mean all this from a primarily contextual level, rather than a structural and mechanical level, mind you. The most interesting difference, I’ve found, has been the effect that the 40+ hour journeys leave on their players.
Twilight Princess took me an incredible 62hrs to complete with basically all the side quests completed. Okami took me about 42hrs to complete, with significant portion of the side quests mostly completed too.
Twilight Princess feels appropriately sized. Indeed, it’s a HUGE quest, don’t get me wrong there, but one which can be overcome. Okami‘s story, on the other hand, feels like a burden and leaves the player reeling from its lethargic length. The contention is simple: why does Okami‘s endearing length work against the player and Twilight Princess‘ not?
The answer is also simple: the Zelda games are tacitly understood as a collection of units, whereas Okami is not (it’s continuous). This makes the Zelda games quantifiable and regimented, in turn making it easier to digest over a long play time, instead of feeling like the Never Ending Story.
Let’s unpack that a little, shall we?
In regards to Okami, what I mean by “continuous” is that Amaterasu follows a stream of connected areas linearly (ie. a river crossing->field->town->castle). The story is malleable, although generally keeps itself within this structure, with scenario’s starting and finishing within their selected area. Now, there is a goal in sight, collect the 13 brush strokes and destroy Orochi, however, brush strokes are sporadically dolled out, front-ended at the start of the game and then only very carefully handed out thereafter; in effect weakening the grip which the celestial brush has over the narrative. Furthermore—and yes, there will be spoilers ahead—the player is deceived into thinking that they’ve defeated Orochi (thereby completing the game), not just once, but twice. The implication of this tomfoolery is that it puts a damper on the rest—and by rest, I mean majority—of the experience, leaving the player with no clear indication on their progression. Personally, I felt left out of the lurch, decidedly distanced from the experience that I was keen to immerse myself in.
One could quite rightly argue that Zelda: Twilight Princess (and Ocarina of Time) also tricks the player, right? Well, yes, they do, however the trick does not allude to the game’s completion, Link doesn’t defeat Gannon at the start of the game, he defeats him at the end, the same cannot be said for Okami.
The initial 10hrs of Zelda:TP and Zelda:OOT are treated as prelude chapters. The end game is unclear and there are many absent spots in the player’s inventory, so the player suspects the game to open up at some time, but is uncertain. Zelda’s “gotcha moment” therefore works successfully then because:
- It confirms the player’s suspicions, thereby making them feel intelligent
- Establishes where the end game lies
- Since the player has already completed 3 dungeons, an understanding of length is formed
- In which case, the reveal more than likely will surprise the player since they have an understanding that another 8 dungeons equates to X amount of play time (ie. a lot)
More to the original point though, the Zelda games are laid out in units. For example, all of the questing and dungeon lurking required to restore Zora’s Domain can be treated as one unit of gameplay. Usually on completion of a unit, the player is reward with one of X number of collectables required to unlock the endgame. A field in the middle of the map indiscriminately connects the units which are presented in the form of various elemental/ethnic-themed areas. Although the world appears open-ended, the journey is linear (excluding Oracle of Ages) since the tools required to enter the some “units” cannot be gained until other ones are first completed. Dungeons, the highlight of each gameplay unit, provides a new piece of inventory which then become tutorialised and effectively mastered by the time the player downs the boss.
Zelda’s aforementioned structure works the player into a familiar routine which consists of visiting each area one-by-one, mastering the dungeon and gaining new inventory until they make a set of gems/stones/Triforce pieces. This systems, one that has been beaten into our brains, for some since childhood, overtly states progression. Progression is simply the number of gems you have contrasted against the number you don’t, a fact presented to the player every time the game is paused.
Okami‘s world, due to Zelda’s influential progression system, feels uneven. As a Zelda player, I break Okami‘s world into units, and am therefore trained to be systematically rewarded with new abilities after completing a set unit of gameplay. My problem, and the one which has resulted in so many players not seeing Okami through to its eventual end, is that often doesn’t reward players who are trained to be rewarded after certain intervals of play, only adding to the disdain left after the Orochi disillusion.
Furthermore, because Okami‘s ability set is mostly channelled through the celestial brush, upgrades can feel unsubstantial, further adding to the disappointment. Instead of a hookshot or a bow, you can draw a line which makes water fountain into platforms in select areas. Surprisingly, as the example suggests, the upgrades becomes increasingly one-dimensional as you progress.
The majority side quests too are collectathons which is why I didn’t bother pursuing them to completion, unlike Zelda’s extra curricula activities, most of which involve investigation and use of the various equipment.
Zelda’s rigid progression structure enforces a regimented, predictable rhythm of play which keeps the player’s progression conscious, unlike Okami which follows a continuous structure where progression is uncertain. As a result, Zelda: Twilight Princess, with its massive 60+hrs of play, seems beatable, piece by piece, whereas Okami‘s adventure seems to just continue with no end in sight, causing players to drop off.
This fundamental difference, one of stamina, is what I’d consider to be the strongest point which impacts on the player’s own experience with either game.