A wonderful little tranche-de-vie, a pleasant but otherwise unremarkable day in the combined households of Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings. There is a minor playful mystery to solve, but the real focus of the game is Hastings’ and Poirot’s relationship, their shared history, and the warmth and subdued tenderness they feel for each other.
The Little Four truly excels in its use of scenery descriptions as a means to convey background and delve into the characters’ personalities. Many moving memories and small anecdotes are revealed in this manner. The contrast between the content and Hastings’ British matter-of-factly narrative tone, which stout-heartedly tries but fails to cover the deeply felt fondness for his children and his friend, and the heartbreaking sorrow over the untimely death of his dear “Cinderella”.
I was expecting a bit more interaction with Hastings’ son Thomas, since solving the mystery is set up as a shared challenge for the both of them. Nevertheless, I was pleased with all the minor NPCs’ characterisation in a few well-chosen sentences.
Poirot himself is clearly identified, his tics and idiosyncracies emphasised without becoming clownesque, always with the utmost respect for the maître of zee little grey cells.
A beautiful little exploration of two men’s loyal friendship.
A nice mixture of gothic horror and comedy and poetry.
Straightforward manor-exploration and classic puzzle-solving, nothing too challenging but enough difficulty for a few headscratchers.
I loved the comedy in the fact that you spend the entire game as a (Spoiler - click to show)disembodied hand, doing stuff that a (Spoiler - click to show)disembodied hand cannot possibly do, and it’s fine. But then for some verbs, being a (Spoiler - click to show)disembodied hand is suddenly a problem. (Being able to (Spoiler - click to show)SMELL and (Spoiler - click to show)LISTEN but not (Spoiler - click to show)TASYE is hilarious to me.)
As it is mentioned in the blurb, Frankenfingers claims to be a classic text-adventure, with the one claim to fame that it is probably the only one written in verse. And indeed, all the descriptions are long poems in themselves. As such, the entirety of the game’s tone and atmosphere hinges on the quality of the poetry. And it succeeds… For the most part…
There were times when I stumbled over jumbled rhythms and contorted rhymes, where the intended gothic gloom was not able to shine through the twisted lines. At its best, however, I could hear the poetic tale in my head as if narrated by a disembodied hollow voice. A bit like the horror-monologue in Michael Jackson’s Thriller.
My favourite part of Frankenfingers was probably the exploration of its large map, going back and forth to find all the nooks and crannies of the mansion, and eventually even spreading out of the manor estate altogether. On (Spoiler - click to show)a horse named Buttercup!
It felt weird to see Thalia operating on the right side of the law. She herself would probably respond to that statement with a derisive snort, pointing to the not-altogether-legal ways she goes about securing the knowledge needed to crack the case.
Nonetheless, it’s a change. Instead of the pure egocentrical thrillseeking of the art heist, our heroine now performs a service (paid, but still) to her fellow man or woman. She even works together (gasp) with Mel! And there lies the most interesting development of this installment in the Lady Thalia-series. Thalia and Mel worked perfectly as adversaries, cop and thief. I’m very pleased that their relationship dynamic still holds, even though they’re on the same side now.
Gameplay-wise, Lady Thalia 4 uses the same approach as the previous iterations. Conversational gambits, probing whether the NPC in question will respond best to a Friendly, a Direct, or a Leading tone. Time-sensitive preparation schemes to ready a building for later infiltration. Tense nightly break-ins, this time to gather evidence as opposed to stuffing antiquities down the front of your jacket.
While all these things were interesting, they’re also familiar and well-known by now. In previous installments, I would have held my breath as Thalia sneaks through the dark corridors. Now that I’ve grown used to this, and also now that I have a better grasp of the forgiveness-level of the Lady Thalia-games, I don’t get so worked up anymore about the tresspassing bits.
This time, my enjoyment was more focused on the conversations and the personalities. Great to see how Mel and Thalia are still developing, both in themselves and in their relationship. The NPCs’ characters are diverse, showing through in the interviews. And the scenes with Thalia’s husband-for-show and his amant provide comic relief and sniggers.
(There’s also a rather sad turn of events concerning another recurring NPC. Although I understand the develoment from a narrative viewpoint, I’m still sure I will miss that particular NPC’s stern and straightforward way of interacting with Thalia.)
Funny, moving, exciting.