Kamaeru: A Frog Refuge Review

Despite being the year of the dragon, in the world of gaming, 2024 is starting to seem like the year of the frog.  Between Frogsong, Croakoloco, and now Kamaeru: A Frog Refuge, my gaming life this year has been full of froggy friends, and I can’t say I’m disappointed.  Frogs are lovely little critters, and getting to check out more games where they play a starring role is always a delight.  In the cases of both Frogsong and Croakoloco, the results were games that, while not perfect, were still compelling and enjoyable experiences.  The question is: does the same hold true for Kamaeru?

Croakoloco Review

Incremental games are an odd breed, in that they tend to be as much about what happens while you’re not playing the game as what happens while you are.  As I write this, Croakoloco is idly running on my desktop, with frogs happily hopping around and munching on flies, all while earning me in-game money.  Of the 50+ hours I’ve put into the game, less than half of it has been spent actively engaging with the interface and systems.  Rather, it’s effectively acted as a screensaver that I  periodically return to in order to acquire upgrades and more frogs, all in the name of progress.  Progress towards what?  Well, that’s the rub.

The Last Campfire Review

The Last Campfire is not the type of game I expected to see from Hello Games.  Coming out five years after the disastrous launch of their massive, procedurally-generated space game No Man’s Sky, The Last Campfire feels noticeably restrained in comparison.  It’s a small, relatively short puzzle game with a strong emotional core that’s leagues away from the infinite universe advertised by its predecessor.  Huge scope has defined Hello Games in recent times (their next game promises “a fantasy planet the size of Earth”), and The Last Campfire has anything but, making it something of an odd entry in their modern catalogue.  In this case, though, I think the old adage “less is more” definitely holds true, as The Last Campfire is a wondrous little puzzler that was a joy to play from start to finish.

The Language of Food

I don’t like to cook.  It’s not that I’m unable to do it; my parents getting me to make weekly meals in high school made sure of that.  I just don’t get the same level of fulfillment from it that others seem to.  I understand the joy of creating something to be enjoyed by yourself and others, and cooking allows for so much experimentation and variation that the possibilities are seemingly limitless.  However, it hasn’t held any appeal for me.  I appreciate the time and effort that goes into creating delectable dishes, but I struggle to find the energy to do it myself, often preferring instead to use meal delivery services.  I think it’s kind of sad, though, because such services remove a lot of the personality of the food from the equation; I don’t know who made it, how they did it, or even whether or not they think it’s worth eating.  Food can be a language all on its own, and yet my brain constantly fights against my attempts to speak it.  I think that’s what made Venba so striking to me: it showed the range of possibilities when one engages with food.  Note: Full spoilers for Venba to follow.

The Mooseman Review

“Edutainment” is a term that’s gotten a bad rap over time, conjuring up memories of Mario Teaches Typing, Carmen Sandiego, and even the dreaded Mavis Beacon titles.  However, the genre has evolved recently, to the point where the gameplay component is frequently fleshed out and enjoyable, rather than being a mere afterthought.  Take a title like Mulaka, which exists as both an educational piece and a highly entertaining video game.  Developers are realizing that – to keep people engaged with the game’s subject matter – they have to keep them interested in the game.  Plus, even if the inclusion of so much gameplay (the horror!) results in some topics being omitted, getting a taste of a new subject in an exciting atmosphere can whet one’s appetite for knowledge, leading to further research and learning being done outside of the context of the game.

Replaying Journey

The first time I played through Journey, I cried.  It was – without a doubt – one of the most emotionally moving gaming experiences I had had up to that point, and it’s held a special place in my heart ever since.  However, when I mentioned to my friend Matt that it might find its way onto my “favourite games of all time” list, he made an interesting remark: “Have you replayed it?”

de Blob 2 Review

“I’m sorry, what?”

That was my first reaction upon receiving a press email about de Blob 2’s release on current-gen consoles.  The inaugural title was a Wii exclusive which – while attention-grabbing to my 13-year-old mind at the time – ended up becoming little more than another bargain basement platformer in the Wii’s sea of them.  Hell, I was pleasantly surprised when it got a multiplatform sequel in 2011.  Yet when not a peep was heard about the franchise afterwards (following publisher THQ’s closure in 2013), I had pretty much accepted that it was all over for Blob and friends.

InnerSpace Review

Exploration.  Discovery.  These are terms which frequently find themselves thrown around when a game stimulates any sense of curiosity.  And yet, they tend to be ancillary features in whichever game they appear in.  Exploring the open worlds of Assassin’s Creed or Breath of the Wild is certainly a way to pass the time in each game, but they’re not the focus; there are quests to complete, baddies to hunt down, and so forth.

Terroir: A Lesson in Winemaking

Games can be great at teaching.  Titles like Influent attempt to game-ify the process of learning a new language, while games like Papers, Please opt for a more “immersive” approach, teaching the player not about real-world events specifically, but about the circumstances that no doubt surrounded the events it parallels.  What I find particularly interesting, though, is the games that don’t so much “teach” as they “encourage to learn”.  I’d argue that games like the Civilization series are a perfect example of this; while they don’t specifically mirror history (unless Gandhi was secretly a psychotic warmonger), I know of several friends who have started researching historical civilizations and figures simply because they got a taste of the available knowledge in a game of Civ.  It’s in this category of games that Terroir finds itself, both to its benefit and detriment.

SeaBed Review – There’s Such a Thing as Going Too Deep

While it’s cliché to say that a game is “challenging to review”, I think that it’s fair to apply such a statement to SeaBed, due to one simple fact: it isn’t a game. It’s a visual novel (VN) in the truest sense of the word; there’s text that can be advanced with a click or set to auto-read, and pictures complement said text. Some VNs attempt to shake up the formula by adding dialogue choices or additional gameplay elements, giving the player a break from the ever-advancing walls of text; this isn’t the case with SeaBed.