Ratings and Reviews by OtisTDog

I have known about this game for a very long time, but I had always put off playing it because I understood it to be fairly difficult in terms of puzzles, and this impression was reinforced by a few sporadic attempts to get the ball rolling. That was something of a misunderstanding -- there's really only one puzzle, and though it is tricky it's not difficult in the sense of being hard to intuit what must be done; you have a definite objective from the start, and the scope of action is readily discerned.

All Things Devours is structurally composed of just that single puzzle; the provided story is the absolute minimum required to sketch out a motivation. I say that with admiration for the author's fine judgment of what that minimum was, because the game does a great job of providing just enough motivation to keep going even as the perceived scale of the puzzle's central problem keeps expanding in the face of early experimentation.

This game earns a lot of respect from me on a technical basis, especially for the elegant implementation of the core puzzle mechanic. (Side note: thank you to author half sick of shadows for releasing the source code!) However, the constraints of the puzzle feel somewhat artificial, and I'm not sure that I can put the label "fun" on a game that required putting together a spreadsheet to solve, even though I certainly did get satisfaction from the process.

One thing not mentioned in other reviews is the non-standard handling of the passage of time in this game. The author basically hotwired the Inform 6 Standard Library to be able to track time in five-second increments. As I recall, there are a few actions that require more than this span of time to accomplish; it would have been interesting to see this subsystem expanded to require variable lengths of time for different kinds of standard action, but that would have complicated both coding and gameplay in ways that would probably not be desirable. Although the overall impact is minor, one thing that is not minor is the effect on the player: Several reviewers note the way that the game instills a sense of urgency, and the extremely granular handling of the in-game clock does much to create and reinforce this feeling.

Another interesting sidebar is the code which handles duplicates of objects. These are not true duplicates in terms of dynamically created and destroyed memory allocations, but the subsystem is a remarkably clean way to handle the complexity introduced by allowing objects to be taken back in time. If you're interested in creating a strict time travel game with model of the process that presumes a single, unified and unalterable timeline, then you should definitely study how author Toby Ord handled the associated problems.

The game has been criticized for the fact that the story told by a successful playthrough depends on a superhuman level of foresight on the part of the player character, who finds that her original plan to sabotage her research won't work and must devise an alternate plan in a matter of minutes. I'm not sure how much that matters, since the real motivation for playing the game is the "because it's there" factor of it being a well-designed pure logic puzzle. I skipped the hard mode because it looked like the same type of exercise, only more so -- a little more story might have motivated me to try it.

If you like time travel stories, then this game will stand out as being one of the better "hard SF" implementations of the concept. I definitely recommend it for sci-fi fans and those who enjoy well-implemented puzzles that are well-grounded in the story. The technique used to implement the core restriction is also worth studying; it's a practically fool-proof method of handling paradox detection.

This game has possibly the most misleading title that I've ever encountered in a work of interactive fiction. Although the name suggests wordplay, there is nothing of the kind to be found within.

That's what it's not. What it is is harder to define. There are elements of mystery, heist, treasure hunt and survival horror, and in some places it seems to be looking longingly toward AIF. The game portion has a split focus between making it to the end alive and collecting valuable items along the way, and the story lies somewhere between political thriller and methodical heist. Gameplay is very constrained by the intended scene structure (i.e. "on rails"), which lends a choice-like feel to the work.

Most people discussing this game mention the interesting player character. She is a kind of alien, essentially humanoid but with such vast differences in culture that it can be hard to fully adopt her perspective. The PC is indeed the standout feature of this work, presenting an alien psychology that colors the whole playing experience.

The overall writing style tends toward the leaden and repetitive. In part this seems to be the consequence of a particular system of producing responses tailored to the current state of the PC's knowledge. The system is a solid concept from a technical sense, but it very much needed to be refined in its execution -- at many places it seemed to be malfunctioning in small ways. This game was written in Inform 6, and producing such a system under that language was a larger technical challenge than it would be today. Unfortunately, the author Richard Otter's reach seems to have substantially exceeded his grasp in this respect -- perhaps a collaboration with a more experienced programmer would have been desirable.

The game bills itself as science fiction, but it's a strange kind of science fiction that is difficult to go along with if one prefers the harder type. Some of the imaginary technology is nonsensical (Spoiler - click to show)(e.g. a propulsion system based on biological cells), as are some of the engineering choices (Spoiler - click to show)(e.g. an "airlock" that opens directly to space). These sorts of things were already straining my suspension of disbelief, and it was finally broken after the first glitchy encounter with an NPC.

This is a very distinctive work, however, and a standout effort at inventing aliens that are more than just "people with funny masks," and these features make it worth exploring if one is prepared to look past the flaws. A thorough debugging and second pass at the prose would do much to improve my estimation of this work, but as it is I can't give it more than two stars, meaning "there's something there, but it needs improvement".

The first time that I tried Six was many years ago, and, as I recall, at the time I kind of blinked at it a few times in bemusement, then put it aside. You're a little girl playing hide-and-go-seek? Seriously?

Even from my relatively brief encounter it was clear that the game was well-built and written in a manner that would be accessible to a young audience, so I would usually list Six when asked for recommendations for kids. As a result, Six is directly responsible for cementing a young lady of my acquaintance's interest in IF by virtue of being the first game that she finished without help (even though it took a while). (Spoiler - click to show)(She cited the puzzle where you have to use leaves to slow down the fastest kid as the one she was proudest of figuring out.) The game went up a bit in my estimation, but I still didn't know much about it myself.

I recently replayed it for the People's Champion Tournament, and this time I finished it, including the "new game plus" mode. With all the evidence in, my answer to my past self is: Yes! Seriously!

This is one of those pieces of IF that is just about fun. (Remember fun?) If you retain even the slightest remnant of your inner child, you will enjoy this game. The objective is straightforward enough, but there are enough obstacles to keep you engaged. The musical bits and the sound-based clues were also quite neat, and pretty rare for the era in which this game was developed. The colorful, cartoon-style pictures are only presented occasionally but do much to create the right mood.

The viewpoint presented is consistently that of the early grade-school player character(s): not very deep or reflective but instead gleeful and enthusiastic. My grown-up sensibilities were hoping for a slightly deeper implementation of the story in one place: (Spoiler - click to show)The protagonists meet a "mean girl" in the park who seems like the kind of person who -- in interactive fiction, if not so often in real life -- could become a friend with the right approach. It didn't seem to me like there is a way to make that happen, and, to be fair, as a kid I probably would have been fine with that. (And, as Sam Kabo Ashwell's review for the 2011 XYZZY Awards points out, this is thematically appropriate by way of reflecting the limited social framework of a kid as young as the PC.)

What moves this game out of just "good" and into "great" territory is the conscientious attention to making a smooth gameplay experience. This is appreciated by a grown-up player but essential to a newbie. I can't think of a bug or the slightest hint of guess-the-noun. I'm sure that I must have tried a few verbs that didn't work, but if so I don't recall them -- what I do remember is recapturing, if only briefly, the sense that a park is a place big enough to explore. (Spoiler - click to show)It wasn't until my second run-through that I even discovered the area where your birthday party is being set up. My hat is off to Wade Clarke for going the extra mile here: It really sells the existence of the protagonists' life beyond the events portrayed in the game. I think maybe you can get hints there, too, if needed. There's even a delightful crayon-drawn feelie map to ensure that you're never lost, and an instructional PDF for ultra-newbies who are afraid of the command prompt and/or unfamiliar with Australian vernacular. (One item not covered: "roundabout" means the same thing as "merry-go-round.")

I very much admire any game that's capable of attracting and holding the interest of new young players -- something that is strategically vital to creating a new generation of long-term players and authors -- and that's doubly the case for a work that's still enjoyable by adults. Definitely think of this one the next time you need a game for first graders, or as a light-hearted introduction to parser games for adults.

An older game submitted to the 2003 Spring Thing, Inevitable -- which is not to be confused with a 2017 work sharing the same name -- is a bit off the beaten path for the modern player, but it is an interesting stop on a tour of IF history.

The game offers adjustable difficulty, and I played it on the "harder" mode. This mode doesn't offer particularly hard puzzles as science fiction puzzlers tend to go, so unless you prefer games with few or no puzzles, I would recommend it.

The writing of the game starts out feeling a bit ponderous, but the player soon gets used to the serious tone. The player character is a military officer and space fighter pilot, whose planet recently lost an interstellar war. He or she is tasked with escorting an ambassador of the conquerors on what seems to be nothing more than a sightseeing tour of a now-abandoned city.

The opening sequence sets an interesting mood, with the protagonist's ship being damaged and unable to take off while a heavy storm rages outside. However, the rain abruptly stops and the mood just as suddenly shifts, leaving the player with the familiar task of scouring the empty city for what's needed to repair his ship. A glance at the horizon shows another squall line on the way, but (Spoiler - click to show)this is false foreshadowing that never ends up affecting the story.

As the player goes about this task, various interesting technical touches will be noted, which provide niceties that are relatively rare for the era. (This was the era immediately preceding the introduction of Inform 7, and the coding skill needed to achieve these in Inform 6 were decidedly above average.) The game offers a >GO TO functionality that isn't well-advertised but is a welcome affordance. A particularly nice touch was the way that the PC will considerately put everything aside before following your instruction to wade into water -- and then take it all back after emerging.

The overall style leans toward hard science fiction in that it's grounded in a realism informed by the characters fictional universe. The protagonist takes the futuristic items in inventory for granted, and much of the characterization comes in the form of timeless complaints about authority and regret over a woman from the past. At certain points the realism is inconsistent in its attention to detail, however -- for example, in a scene where (Spoiler - click to show) the protagonist must free-dive to obtain a long metal bar from an underwater structure some of the difficulties which might be expected in that situation (weight, awkwardness) are ignored. Also, there doesn't seem to be any function for certain items outside of demonstrating the nicety mentioned above, though arguably this is not wasted or unfocused work so much as a touch of hyper-realism for effect of the type I pointed to in my review of Anchorhead.

Certain significant parts of the interaction are definitely buggy, and other parts seem as though they might be. Only one issue rises to the severity of threatening the successful conclusion of the game (Spoiler - click to show)(a metal bar can become irreversibly stuck in a wall), but this is unlikely to be encountered in practice. The others that I noted (Spoiler - click to show)(a power tool magically performing its function while turned off, an item being described as being simultaneously on something and wedged into something, disambiguation messages for a particularly tricky sequence involving a complex shape) only create unexpected disruptions to the immersion. Said immersion is artfully achieved through vivid descriptions of the alien city environment and its varied technological artifacts; many reviewers compare it to the atmosphere of Myst.

The puzzle-solving is the core of the gameplay side of this work, and it was quite enjoyable. (Spoiler - click to show)Who doesn't like slowly reactivating derelict alien machinery? The game fulfills the promise of its hook and really shines here as the player makes progress through various obstacles. Only one puzzle seemed like a real problem to me, (Spoiler - click to show)a very important one involving a stone dolmen, but on review the issue seems to largely stem from an uncharacteristic shortfall in the description of the physical scene. In a complex spatial situation like that, I personally appreciate an abundance of information to make sure that the relevant details are communicated, and that style is followed assiduously everywhere else in the game. The worst case scenario is that you'll have to consult the walkthrough to get past that puzzle, which is hardly a catastrophe.

The two-star rating that I'm giving is based on the game's weaker side, which is its story. The narrative elements are interesting enough as their own framework, but they feel essentially grafted onto the gameplay framework -- they don't naturally interact and reinforce each other to improve the experience of both, which is the holy grail of interactive fiction. In addition to some very surprising revelations that seem like they should not have been withheld at the start (Spoiler - click to show)(e.g. that the protagonist is in fact very familiar with the city, having lived there for years), I was left with significant questions about the plot, including but not limited to: (Spoiler - click to show)Why did the alien ambassador want to go there in the first place? Why did Rajan wait until the last second to intervene in the past? Why did the PC fixate on the woman with the green eyes in the past? That's not to say that the story was uninteresting -- it most certainly was not, and the flashback-oriented exposition is well-paced on a structural basis -- it's just that it seems like the story could have been quite different without affecting much of the experience of play.

The pacing near the end is irksome, slowed by some final puzzles when the narrative is trying to advance quickly. I personally found all of the available endings to be unsatisfactory from a narrative standpoint, leaving the emphasis in my memory on the setting, atmosphere and puzzles, all of which are very well executed. I did have fun with this game, and I expect that most sci-fi fans will, too, and absent the not-quite-insignificant bugs I would probably give it three stars.

In the glory days of the rec.arts.int-fiction newsgroup, from time to time someone (or a group of someones) would make a game as a demonstration of a rhetorical point. A famous example of this is +=3, which was written to demonstrate that an author needs to make the player aware of the relevant details of the game universe in order to be fair. As I understand it, this piece was also inspired by a discussion -- this time about possible models for the paid development of interactive fiction in the aftermath of the collapse of the commercial era. Given the scale of the effort, an echo of the Textfire collection of the previous year, it also seems to be inspired by the pure joy of practical jokery.

This is less a parody of the individual games involved than it is of our society as a whole -- specifically commercialism's influence on culture. The work posits that the manufacturer of Coca-Cola, infamous for never passing up a chance to expand the mindshare of its brand by slapping its logo on something new, has decided by spreadsheet that there's a theoretical payoff to funding new IF in order to achieve a little more brand awareness. It shows us a taste of a "what if" world in which some of the best-known works of the time were produced under a product placement model of monetary "support" for the art, a world in which presumably IF is plentiful... and it just won't shut up about the sponsor's carbonated beverage.

I suppose that whether this world is a utopia or dystopia is a matter of personal preference, but personally I'm pleased that, 25 years on, the art form has continued to grow organically in the absence of major commercial interests.

The rhetorical value of this work is lessened somewhat by the over-the-top nature of the jingoism, and as a game it suffers from a reliance on player knowledge of the games being simulated. David Welbourn's walkthrough can get you through any points where you become stuck, but there's no particular payoff to reaching the programmed end. It's still worth a quarter of an hour to be amused by the various one-liners and to consider the questions that the game implicitly prompts.

Aisle is one that I finally broke down and played a few years ago. It did not impress me, and I didn't find the central innovation (i.e. one-move game) to be very interesting as a mechanic. A recent re-examination of the work and its reviews in greater detail changed my opinion of it -- for the worse.

The game's tagline calls itself: "an instant in the life of a man" [emphasis mine]. Likewise, many reviews mention "the story" [again, emphasis mine]. But there is no single story. This is made clear by the "frontispiece" displayed upon opening Aisle, which at its end states: "Be warned; there are many stories and not all of the stories are about the same man."

As many reviewers note, extended interaction bears this out. It's not possible for the PC to be just one man due to conflicting information presented in various "endings." (I put scare quotes around the term because it seems clear that no one outcome is intended to represent a complete experience, thus the interactor is almost certain to "replay" many times before deciding to stop.)

Obviously, on a purely structural basis, the interactor of this work is expected to try at least dozens of different moves in order to observe the various bits of past and/or future that each new "ending" produces. Theoretically, that structure does offer an interesting possibility, in that the motivated interactor can try to suss out particular details and build up a picture of the whole possibility space of the protagonist's future as well as the complex of factors in his past that shape his present. To my mind, the kind of meaningful question asked and answered by a work of this structure should be: How can one action now change the future of this person, and what are the limits of that change? (As Duncan Stevens puts it, the point would be "to explore the central character and take a look at the various possibilities available to him from one point in time.")

Unfortunately, since this work is not consistent in the details that a diligent player uncovers, any meaningful exploration of those questions is abandoned, and the whole concept reduces to an exercise in style. Sean Barrett's I'll does a good job of making the point in an exaggerated manner via rhetoric-in-action.

The central premise of the scenario is weak and seems particularly ill-suited to a weighty treatment of the possibilities opened up by the novel mechanic. (As the review by Ben at Trotting Krips notes: "It is difficult to turn your life around in the middle of a Winn-Dixie.") The inciting incident is that the protagonist has a moment over the fresh gnocchi at the end of an unpleasant day. Prior to this, he seems to be just have been going aisle by aisle through this, his regular grocery store, in a run-of-the-mill bit of shopping. Is this the first time the store has stocked fresh gnocchi? Has he never noticed this item before? Has he forgotten that it was there? Why does *this* time seem so significant? The work offers no answers -- does not seem to have anticipated the question.

... Or maybe it has. Perhaps the added significant context is the proximity of the brunette, whose appearance reminds the PC of a woman, Clare, who features so prominently in many responses.

The work is noted for its 100+ unique "endings," but the range of supported actions is not well-correlated to the situation, making it hard to predict the effect of many commands. For example, if >SLEEP is tried by the player, it is because he or she is in "lawnmowering" mode and that is a default verb, not because it makes any sense for the PC to actually go to sleep. At least some responses use unique verbs that are unlikely to be discovered without a walkthrough or decompilation. It's hard to know what to make of responses to commands such as >GIBBER or >DROOL, which are highly unlikely to be tried without external prompting.

Interactions with the woman tend to send the "story" on an unexpectedly dark trajectory. Stevens notes that the PC "often treats apparently normal conversational gambits as an excuse to act psychotic." While I immediately agreed with this sentiment, that description is, on balance, overstated. The author usually chooses an unpleasantly surprising spin on the interactor's choice of actions involving her, even those that seem innocuous, in a manner that strikes me as a deliberate exploitation of the coarse-grained interaction afforded by the ASK/TELL model, which collapses many potential variations of topics into one keyword or keyphrase response. Since the woman is by far the most interesting part of the environment the player is certain to stumble over one of these warning signs soon enough, perhaps in response to >ASK WOMAN ABOUT PASTA or >ASK HER ABOUT HER CART. Sure, asking someone about the contents of their cart at the grocery store is an unconventional conversation starter, but does Barlow think that the PC's subsequent actions truly represent the player's intent? Compare those two responses to >ASK HER ABOUT HERSELF or >ASK HER ABOUT GNOCCHI for similarly unpredictable results in what is presumably intended to be a positive direction.

Inevitably, the interactor reaches a point in exploration where, to quote Stevens again, "options for civilized behavior run out." If one stops before that point (and has by happenstance missed the yellow flags presented when interacting with the woman), then it is indeed possible to come away with a sense that this is a single story dominated by themes of "romantic isolation" and "melancholic longing" as labeled by Jimmy Maher's review, or even one that is "beautiful and tragic" as described by manonamora's. However, the work itself does not stop there, and a completionist will soon discover huge swathes of additional "story" that are very dark indeed, with possibilities ranging as far as assaulting the woman in the store or the revelation that the PC is a murderer. When one bears these darker outcomes in mind, it becomes more difficult to interpret the "positive" outcomes as good things, after all. (In fact, on closer inspection, even some of the presumably-positive outcomes involving the woman seem tinged with a sense of predatory manipulation.) As one progresses through less and less likely significant responses, the PC becomes steadily more repugnant.

Between the single-response constraint and the author's capricious imputation of the intent behind any given command, I'm hard pressed to say what it is the player is supposed to be actually doing after loading up Aisle. When interacting with this work the interactor is not actually exploring a character or a story -- between the limited and/or contradictory information about the context of the single choice point for the protagonist and the extremely low ability to predict the impact of that choice on the situation, this work is missing the heart of what I consider interactive fiction to be. There is nothing solid to discover through persistence, and although any one response often resonates to a greater or lesser degree with others, it is difficult for the player to even draw firm boundaries between the various major permutations of the "true" situation, as these seem to bleed into each other in places. In the end, we are only exploring the author's momentary whimsies until patience and/or interest runs out.

As noted in the review of Mike Root, there is an alternative lens for evaluation of Aisle, which is that the work's purpose is to "play the player." The best evidence for this interpretation is the way that certain clusters of responses do paint a semi-consistent portrait of a certain type of person with a certain type of past. However, these responses do not seem consistent enough to look like deliberate planning on the author's part. For example, if the player focuses on mundane goals, the commands >EXAMINE GNOCCHI, >EXAMINE PASTA, >TAKE PASTA, >TAKE GNOCCHI, >TAKE SAUCE, >ASK WOMAN FOR SAUCE, and >PUSH CART are all straightforward options, but they each define significant aspects of the PC and/or his backstory in a manner that the player can't possibly predict. For example, >PUSH CART imputes an active anger to the PC over being confronted with the suppressed memory of Rome and edges slightly malevolent toward the brunette, while >TAKE GNOCCHI suggests long-settled resignation about the outcome of the events of Rome and ignores the fellow shopper. >TAKE SAUCE yields a Clare-less response implying that Rome wasn't that significant, after all, and >ASK WOMAN FOR SAUCE indirectly suggests a painful episode from which the protagonist might be starting to recover (or perhaps, taking some responses into account, something less pleasant). Although the outcomes differ significantly, I don't see any consistent logic mapping those significant differences in outcome to significant differences in the player's choice.

In summary I would say that Aisle does best when engaged with on a very shallow basis -- one can argue whether or not that necessarily means that the work itself is shallow. I think I would have liked it better with fewer implemented responses, and especially if Barlow had chosen to trim out or simply not respond to various default verbs related to violence, as it does for some of the stock actions in Inform 6's Standard Library. In that form it might live up to the praise in Jimmy Maher's review, even as it was reduced in scale to a bite-sized 15-minute novelty. I would definitely have liked it better if all endings were consistent with one another such that discerning the protagonist's total past becomes a genuine exercise in discovery, which would let the diligent player reach the point of making an informed and more importantly intentionally significant choice of the single allowed action.

One of the reasons that I don't often play choice games is that it rarely feels like the choices available are about directly controlling the character that you're playing. The options often clearly have significance in terms of impact on the unwinding plot, but it can feel more like the old CYOA books than interactive fiction.

You're a Time Agent! neatly avoids that by having the choices matter on an almost second-to-second basis. As a "time agent" of unspecified provenance, you are tasked with infiltrating a facility of unspecified importance. Your obstacle is a door guard, and the puzzle is essentially one of social engineering aided by the supernatural ability to retain information from alternate futures.

Author Tabitha O'Connell overtly undermines the "hey, wow - time powers!" aspect of the game with an introduction which promises that gameplay will consist of "f*cking around" in time. Still, even though the scenario doesn't have much scale, it's surprisingly compelling. As the player-stand-in protagonist tries various gambits, minute bits of information will be pried loose from the stony-faced guard, and these begin to create new options to try.

As manonamora notes, the choice links are conveniently color-coded to indicate when they have been "played out." This is a wonderful nod to the player experience that heads off the most likely source of frustration for the format of the gameplay. Various branches of the timeline offer silly "achievements" that are tallied and listed once success has been achieved.

What's most fascinating to me about this work is the way that it manages to turn the scenario into a fairly mundane experience that feels like "just another day at the office" for the titular time agent. That's not criticism -- that's praise for the author's skill; it would be very easy to make this premise either too silly or too boring to recommend, but instead it's a bite-sized mini-adventure that engages without resorting to the most typical styles of glamor. As one repeatedly rewinds to try again, the guard, initially presented a stock villain, begins to soften and become a person as various peeks behind the professional mask are obtained. (Spoiler - click to show)In one branch he even gives you $50 for dry cleaning, motivated by sympathy for a stranger on the street. He, too, is having just another day at the office.

I've only gotten one ending (so far!), but I'd definitely recommend this "amuse-cerveau" as an enjoyable short experience.