Ratings and Reviews by OtisTDog

The only reason I started this piece was because I came across The Warlord, The Princess & The Bulldog here on IFDB. I liked the introduction to that so much that, when I discovered it was a sequel, I decided to play the first installment of the series before continuing.

A Spot of Bother has a funny premise, and I liked the humor in the introductory backstory. The absurdist tone fits perfectly with absurdist version of the universe presented in a typical "text adventure." However, the joke started to wear off pretty quickly, because the style of humor in the writing (spoofy one-liners at a brisk pace) is entirely mismatched with the structure of the game (really, really oblique puzzles that bring the action to a grinding halt, and lots of them).

Some puzzles can be bypassed by taking a hit on your lives (you get 5 to start), but others must be solved to make any progress. The limited space to explore in the game between required solutions -- often allowing progress to only one additional room -- means that there's nothing but frustration to be had if you get stuck.

To make progress, sometimes it's necessary to examine things in great detail. The lopsided object implementation -- from items mentioned in room descriptions but not "there" to items with 4 levels of detail description available -- makes this requirement particularly cruel. Couple this with an irksome tendency to require performing the same action multiple times, and any sense of fairness to the player evaporates.(Spoiler - click to show) The final insult is the pure capriciousness of exchanges like this:

> examine metal bar
This looks like a javelin of some kind, although quite why Mrs Moog had it lying around her front garden you can’t imagine.

> throw metal bar at window
You don’t see any reason to go throwing things around.

> x spike
The spike is about an inch wide and an inch tall and has the look of a good poking device to you.

> throw spike at camera
You take aim and throw. The spike hits the bars and bounces back, falling onto the ground at your feet.

So there's no reason to go throwing things around, especially not hard metal javelin-like things, when a softer wooden spike described as a poking device is so much better for the job.

There are several other examples in the same vein, unfortunately.

And believe me, stuck you will be. I have a hard time agreeing that this game is a "puzzlefest" because it doesn't seem to have very many genuine puzzles. If you accept Nick Montfort's argument that a good IF puzzle is like a riddle, the kind of riddles in this work are a lot like Bilbo's "What have I got in my pocket?" in The Hobbit -- patently unfair and likely to drive the one trying to solve them crazy.

It's hard to believe that anyone could have possibly finished this game without resorting to a walkthrough or a decompiler. There are built-in hints, but I found them to be singularly useless -- either referring to puzzles I wasn't aware of yet or confirming the existence of puzzles I was aware of already, and offering no actual hints (i.e. a nudge in the right direction without spoiling the puzzle entirely) in either case.

The game also suffers with respect to quality of implementation. There are guess-the-verb challenges of the most elemental kind. In the first room, a key item offers different responses depending on whether you use "get" or "take." In another place, "examine sign" works but "read sign" doesn't. For one obstacle, "flick switch" but not "flip" or "change" or "toggle" or "turn" or "use" or "press" or "pull" or "push" or any of the others I tried before resorting to the walkthrough. There's even a game-critical NPC that you can't examine but can talk to.

As a side note, I think I like ADRIFT less every time I run into it. What it makes me realize is that the quality of the parser creates a fundamental difference in the quality of the player experience. ADRIFT's parser appears fairly primitive, with the most irritating aspect being that it is often not apparent to a newcomer whether a word has been understood or not -- in other words, one can't differentiate parser failure from referring to an unimplemented object.

All of the above said, producing this piece took a significant effort, and with a higher-quality implementation, I'm sure I would have had a much more favorable reaction to it. I really do like the writing and even found just reading the walkthrough to be an enjoyable experience once I gave up hope of actually working through the game on my own. Perhaps if every puzzle could have been bypassed with an amusing near-death sequence, allowing the story to be completed with few points quickly, reaching the end would have been much more enjoyable, and I would have been more motivated to figure out how to get the highest score.

I still plan on playing the sequel to this piece, but it may be a while before I'm ready to risk that much frustration again.

What this game lacks in plot, puzzles, and punctuation, it makes up with a simple earnestness and a fortuitous brevity. Navigating the simple linear path through 8 or so rooms nearly devoid of implemented objects is an exercise in perseverance and a relatively lightweight one at that.

There doesn't seem to be much here; figuring out the directions linking rooms together seems to be the biggest challenge on your way to the end location. You'll find a few letters of encouragement and an apparently unnecessary lantern on the way, but there are no obstacles to overcome or reasons to care about getting there.

This is an Inform 7 6G60 release, so I'm guessing this is a first time effort by someone who has read the opening chapters of "Writing with Inform." I encourage the author to read the rest of the Inform 7 manual as well as Coyne's First-Timer Foibles, because it's clear that the imaginative seeds of something much grander are already on display here. All that's needed is more patience and polish to produce something worth playing.

I'm generally not one for keyword-driven stories, which emulate the kind of interactivity you would find in hypertext. I've always felt that that type of interaction was inherently limiting; with all the connections drawn out for the reader, there isn't much interactivity to be had other than by exploring the graph that defines the story's structure.

That said, when considered with respect to some of the more railroaded story-oriented IF out there, it actually demonstrates some comparative benefits. No chance for hunt-the-verb, hunt-the-noun, synonym sickness, or many of the other opportunities for failure that "standard" IF offers. Non-interactive NPCs seem less of an affront when the illusion of free conversation isn't even presented. So maybe there's a natural fit between this format and an all-story, no-puzzles work.

As far as plot goes, this piece is short but very interesting. In the minutes it takes to play it, the author managed to interject some surprising ideas about the mindset of the protagonist -- things that I did not expect or consider but which are immediately obvious when pointed out, things which demonstrate that the author has put some time and effort into crafting the fictional world created. (Spoiler - click to show)I especially like the way some of the ideas are revealed through characterization; the response to "mirror" in the exercise room packs a lot into a few words. The short plot and ambiguous ending practically beg for a more thorough exploration of this fictional world.

This was the first work of the author's that I've ever tried, and it left me favorably inclined to try others. Worth the time if you are seeking a quick diversion.

Some people might think from my breathless review of Spider and Web that I am an Andrew Plotkin groupie. This is not the case. While I have tremendous respect for his fearsome combination of seamless coding and tight story-telling*, he is, in the end, only human. Shade is the reminder.

The start of this work exhibits all of Mr. Plotkin's hallmark qualities: his trick of making the mundane seem interesting with inventive prose, his expert sense of how long to keep the player in suspense before providing the next clue about what's going on, his knack for making the story follow you before you can follow it. The excellence of this work set up some high expectations about what would come next.

To me, everything about the first half of the game seemed to be pointing towards a particular moment of revelation, in which the player would literally "wake up" and begin a new section of gameplay. This never happened. Instead, things take a sharp turn towards the weird and abstract, and the story leaves the player in the lurch, confused and unsatisfied about which, if any, of the tensions introduced in the first half were resolved.

When abstraction is introduced, art is always in danger of sliding down the slippery slope from transcendent to incomprehensible. Shade, unfortunately, goes right over the edge. While it is tempting to think that I just "missed it", it seems more likely that Mr. Plotkin's profound intuition misled him here in deciding how to communicate whatever he was trying for. [edit: Turns out there was quite a bit I just missed. (Spoiler - click to show)The studied opinion of IF master Emily Short shows that a careful reading of the text provides plenty of evidence (subtle though some of it may be) to support a consistent and interesting interpretation of the end. I've upped my rating by a point to reflect this.]

This game is still worth playing at least once just to marvel at the genius of its functioning as the story's central mystery unwinds. I can't even conceive of what the underlying code for this game looks like, but it feels like something deeply elegant and beautifully simple. If the story had the same coherence, this might have been another landmark work in the field.

* Or is it tight coding and seamless story-telling?

This is the kind of speed IF that makes the whole idea worthwhile.

This particular competition (Speed IF Jacket 2) seems to have had a looser timeline than most, with license of up to a week given by the organizer and an IFMUD post indicating that entries were still being accepted a month after the official kickoff. I don't know how long Mr. Ashwell (who was the organizer) spent creating this work, but the original poem in the introductory sequence makes it obvious that Ugly Chapter is no rush job from a writing perspective.

This work quickly convinces you that it's going to be something very different and very good. In just a few short moves, Ashwell's masterful writing brings into focus the extremely inventive narrative framework he created in which to tell this story, while outlining enough features of the setting to show that he's invested some thought into making it all hang together.

There's a certain style of writing that I love, in which the author spends little or no time on formal exposition and instead builds up a picture through details. It's a difficult trick, but when done right, this literary pointillism gives the reader the vivid impression that he or she is looking through a window at a complete and consistent universe; the individual dots begin to merge into a coherent whole. Ugly Chapter pulls this off almost offhandedly, while it's busy snaring the player's attention with expertly crafted replies to the usual opening moves, replies that quickly make it clear that 1) this game will not have a "you" in in it in the conventional sense of IF, and 2) that won't reduce your enjoyment of the work one bit.

Ugly Chapter is an excellent use of the interactive fiction medium, conscripting even the parser interface into the service of making clear what's happening as the story unfolds. Once the method by which this story is ostensibly being conveyed starts to sink in, the player is quickly railroaded to the conclusion(Spoiler - click to show), before the novelty of the reader/player simultaneously experiencing "being" both the trapped protagonist and the pathos-inspiring narrator wears off.

I would not qualify this piece as a comedy, it's more like poetry. Perhaps what's most remarkable is the way that this work so dramatically exceeds the threshold of expectation set by Speed IF Jacket 2's structure: Authors were given a set of fictional, out-of-context blurbs -- each created by a different participant and given to one other -- and were supposed to create a work to which they would apply.

It's an interesting variation on the random-seed-ideas premise; instead of X components, authors are given X perceptions. As you might expect, many blurbs were silly. A silly piece in response would be entirely expected and appropriate. A story of this quality in response is astounding; Ashwell makes the pretend blurbs seem silly in an entirely new way.

Without knowing the development time, it's hard to say whether this should truly be considered speed IF. Either way, I'm glad I didn't miss it.