Ratings and Reviews by Drew Cook

There's a rather famous quote about the Velvet Underground's first album. It comes from an LA Times interview with Brian Eno:

“I was talking to Lou Reed the other day, and he said that the first Velvet Underground record sold only 30,000 copies in its first five years. Yet, that was an enormously important record for so many people. I think everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band!"

In 1985, Steve Meretzky was hardly a Lou Reed. He was probably one of the better-known game developers in America, thanks to the success of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Infocom, for its part, was hardly Verve Records. They had published some of the most successful microcomputer games ever made, and were making a play for big, corporate software dollars.

And yet, for all of Infocom's lavish production and post-production resources, A Mind Forever Voyaging has the aspirational earnestness of a small art film. According to Jimmy Maher, people around the office referred to it as "Steve Meretzky's Interiors," an unflattering comparison to Woody Allen's 1978 film of the same name. In fairness to Meretzky's contemporaries, amused bafflement is a possible reaction to something that one has never seen, anticipated, or imagined.

I could go on like this for hours. In fact, I already have elsewhere. So let's let this review be a review. In A Mind Forever Voyaging, the player guides an artificial intelligence, Perry Simm, though various iterations of a simulated future. The point of the simulation is to evaluate the effects of a sweeping legislative package usually referred to as "The Plan." The author of said plan is "Richard Ryder," and he and his policies are meant to remind us of Ronald Reagan.

The gameplay here is radically different from what one would have been used to in 1985. Perry must observe and record events and conditions that the game considers significant in terms of enriching or expanding the simulation. The AI is expanding its data set, in other words, while we guide Perry through daily life in Rockvil, Dakota. What is popular entertainment like, for instance, across the decades following the implementation of The Plan? How does the Simm family - Perry, Jill, and little Mitchell - get on? How are things at Perry's favorite Chinese restaurant?

Contemporary reviewers sometimes gloss over these innovations, missing the significance of centering human experiences and relationships in interactive narratives in 1985. Perhaps it is because we see these things everywhere nowadays. It can be easy to miss the influence of A Mind Forever Voyaging because it is everywhere. It can be hard to find an absence from which we can begin, from which we can detect its presence.

It has problems as a video game, and some of those problems are serious. It is not always clear what data is and is not useful for Perry, which can lead to feelings of being stuck. There is a climactic puzzle that has no relationship to the gameplay in the rest of the game. A game should train the player for its endgame, which A Mind Forever Voyaging fails to do.

I encourage contemporary players to refer to the Invisiclues - written by Meretzky himself - when stuck. If you don't understand a word or phrase in a Shakespeare play, do you look it up? The language of 1980s interactive fiction can seem equally arcane. Sometimes, these old games can feel mechanically obsolete. Which is fine! We have resources to help us through them as needed.

Some critics have invested significant ink in characterizing the model of AI in AMFV as unrealistic or incredible, as if A Mind Forever Voyaging was ever meant to be about computers. Despite appearances, it is about human beings. Humans wielding power, humans making art, humans forging friendships and families. Humans getting old together, humans insisting - rather shockingly in this context - that care, thoughtfulness, and imagination are essential to well-lived lives.

That isn't true, of course.

There is no such thing that "everybody" loves, unless it is a good night's sleep. Still, Wishbringer is emblematic of the shifting critical fortunes of Infocom games over the years. If we consider this site's aggregation alongside Victor Gijsbers's top 50 polls, we might guess that only a handful of Infocom's games retain the stature that they enjoyed, say, twenty-five years ago. At last polling (2019), those most-loved games include Spellbreaker, Wishbringer, Zork I, A Mind Forever Voyaging, Suspended, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and Trinity. The mix has shifted slightly in each successive poll, but Wishbringer has remained a constant. The aggregation tells an entirely different story: Planetfall, as only one example, is on the front page of IFDB games listed by rating!

Why Wishbringer? Much comes down to the talents of Brian Moriarty, who makes his stunning debut with this "Introductory" game for all audiences. The prose is descriptive and charming, and a "double world" of light and dark fills exploration with feelings of recognition and wonder. Its good-natured humor lacks the snark of so many Infocom games, and the experience is better for it.

The feelies and packaging only enhance the fairy-tale ambiance of the game and include a glow-in-the-dark "wishing stone" and an illustrated "Legend of Wishbringer" story. The story is darker than one might expect, but the quality of the content is excellent.

Regarding gameplay, I have "good news and bad news." The good news is that Wishbringer features multiple solutions to puzzles, which widens its audience and essentially offers multiple difficulties. This is an innovative approach that I'm not sure Infocom replicated elsewhere. (Spoiler - click to show)I wouldn't count Zork III's "hello sailor" solution, since that's more of an easter egg. If you can think of other cases, please mention them in a comment!

The bad news, at least for me as a little boy, is this: making wishes is the "easy" mode and awards no points. As a kid with a game called "Wishbringer" and a glowing wishing stone, I wanted to make wishes. I also wanted a high score. I cannot fault any child, young or old, for feeling disappointed.

I should recognize that this is still an Infocom game from the 1980's, which means that some of it will seem quite unfriendly to contemporary players, despite obvious efforts to make itself accessible to audiences of its time. In particular, one can make the game unwinnable early on without knowing. Wishbringer also punishes the player for (Spoiler - click to show)not drawing a map in a specific place, and it feels quite jarring in a game so friendly.

Still, these are all faults that Wishbringer manages to transcend. Don't let the "Introductory" designation fool you. This game is incredibly charming, very well written, and, whatever its failings might be, quite innovative in terms of its approach to difficulty. Highly, highly, highly recommended.

Suspect is the third and last of what I consider Infocom's "quantum detective" games. "Quantum," because the game world is in an indeterminate state. There are events and people moving and acting on a schedule, and it is not possible to know what is happening in a specific location at a given time without going there. While there, the player cannot know what is happening everywhere else. While we are with Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory, we may not know where Miss Scarlet is.

The first of those "quantum" games was Deadline. It was technically innovative and was, narratively, a satisfying locked door mystery. However, the nature of the indeterminate map made for a very complex geography, with time as an added dimension. Author Marc Blank mitigated these complexities with a reasonably-sized map and only a handful of suspects.

Even with these concessions, Deadline is considered hard-as-nails, and I can't imagine anyone saying, "I'd like another Deadline, only with more people, more traffic, and even a few more rooms." I've always assumed that Lebling fell in love with solving the technical problems posed by Suspect, ultimately losing sight of what might or might not constitute an enjoyable game experience. Those of us with interest in programming or even writing in general can probably relate. To Lebling's credit, Suspect is very impressive technically. I would say that, at the close of 1984, it was Infocom's most impressive technical achievement, unseating the previous, 18-month titleholder, Suspended.

In Suspect, the protagonist is, in fact, the primary suspect of a murder committed at a high society Halloween Ball. There are fun period details: a band plays "Karma Chameleon." The costumes are a nice touch and serve the greater purposes of gameplay and atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the complexity of the case will probably discourage many players. Several Infocom fans (myself included) name Suspect as one of the rare games that we either quit or else made an early beeline for hints. I personally could forgive this, but I can't look past the ommision of one of Deadline's defining charms: few of the characters have much, if anything, to say. While Deadline was incredibly generous with text responses, Suspect, having hit its 128K ceiling, is downright miserly. Sometimes, a character really ought to have a response to this or that thing, but all we get is a stock answer. It's jarring and frustrating. This happens, rather hilariously, with regard to the details of the murder, which really ought to be on everyone's mind.

There is presently only one review (besides mine) of this game here at IFDB, which I interpret as a lack of both contemporary interest and sentimental attachment. I personally cannot recommend it to anyone who does not have some sort of historical interest in either Infocom or the mystery genre. Still, technical competence or even brilliance is a redeeming factor. For this, I almost rated Suspect three stars, but it doesn't quite get there.

In just under a year, the best game of Lebling's career (and one of Infocom's best), Spellbreaker, would make for an incredible comeback story.

Just this morning, I witnessed two online conversants discuss the "overrated" nature of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Typically, I interpret the term "overrated" as an oblique yet economical way of saying "most people like this more than I do."

Still, since it was Infocom's second best-selling game after Zork I, it could be both overrated and quite good all at the same time. For those who have never heard of this game, it is based on approximately half of the beloved Douglas Adams novel of the same name. While I think it is a commonly-held belief that Steve Meretzky performed most of the technical development while Adams was responsible for the text (and was a co-designer of puzzles, perhaps), most researchers today know better. In fact, we generally accept that the game is almost entirely Meretzky's design, barring the source text (all Adams, obviously) and some significant consultations.

Like all of Meretzky's Infocom games (we can debate Zork Zero some other time), it's a worthwhile play for anyone interested in 1980s interactive fiction. His humorous prose blends perfectly with parts written by Adams (whether original or taken from the novel). This is a very funny game as a result, and I would say the laughs alone are worth the price of admission.

However, from a historical perspective, there are interesting formal innovations that truly set it apart, content aside. First, it includes several metatextual features that playfully subvert what we then expected out of a narrator-player relationship. Additionally, it was Infocom's first modular design, featuring multiple, small maps and more than one playable character. These features would have felt quite new and exciting back in 1984, even if they were overshadowed by the game's signature elements: Douglas Adams as author, humor, and possibly unreasonable puzzle design.

What of puzzles? The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is surprisingly difficult for a "Standard" difficulty game. In fact, the conventional wisdom is that it is "Standard" only because "Advanced" or "Expert" would have discouraged sales. I personally think it's harder than Starcross, that other difficult science fiction game. Players can easily lock themselves out of victory. In all honesty, they probably will. These conditions can feel quite cheap, as one can reach the penultimate move of the game, only to discover the impossibility of the situation.

What is comparable? The "flouresce" spell in Zork II, perhaps.

The Invisiclues are readily available online. Do yourself a favor and keep them close at hand. They are at least fun to read, written as they were by Steve Meretzky himself. If you are only interested in puzzles, or somehow dislike Adams or Meretzky, give this a pass. Otherwise, this is a very innovative game with Meretzky's best writing to-date. Highly recommended for players interested in 80s IF, Infocom, or the evolution of IF narrative stuctures. Alternately, just use the hints and laugh your way through.

Infocom released both Seastalker and Cutthroats in 1984. These two back-to-back releases reviewed poorly (relatively speaking, as Infocom games tended to review well) and didn't feature the long sales "tails" of Infocom's other catalog staples. In fact, after this bizarre instance of schedule-packing, Infocom would never release another seafaring adventure.

Of the two games, critics have been kinder to Cutthroats, and deservedly so. Occasionally, the inventiveness of Mike Berlyn (Suspended, Infidel) manages to break through, if only briefly. The first two thirds of the game takes place on Hardscrabble Island, a dangerous place where dangerous men brave dangerous danger while endangering one another. The characters are all seedy types, but a player may forgive their familiarity. We have come for just this sort of adventure with just this sort of people, after all, and they do not disappoint. There are characters named "rat" and "weasel," for instance, practically daring us to complain about too much of a good thing.

Unfortunately, the gameplay on Hardscrabble Island would be greatly improved by a cliche or two. The primary challenge is hiding pocket-sized objects without putting them in pockets, since the game becomes unwinnable should the owner/operator of the local marine salvage company see the protagonist carrying and/or doing a surprisingly large number of things. These failures don't always make sense, which can be forgiven if the play is fun. Unfortunately, it isn't, and it's a shame that Cutthroats takes so long to get to what most players are really interested in: diving for treasure.

On that front, the game acquits itself reasonably well. The wrecks (there are two) feel like Zorkian cave crawls with the exciting addition of underwater exploration. Sadly, these parts of the game are all too short and cannot compensate for the tedious bulk of Cutthroats's misadventures on dry land.

However, it is worth mentioning that Cutthroats features an interesting formal experiment: multiple game variants. In the course of the game, a randomly selected shipwreck (there are two possibilities, but the packaging and source code suggest that four were originally planned) becomes the goal for that playthrough. Unfortunately, the wreck is selected very early on, so the most boring parts of the game must be repeated before exploring the other wreck. Infocom would only attempt this sort of branching narrative structure one more time, in 1986's Moonmist.

Cutthroats was the first game to be released in the iconic "Gray Box" format, and featured a pleasantly mimetic bit of copy protection in a local historical society's booklet about local shipwrecks.

For its formal and metatextual innovations, I have awarded Cutthroats three stars, but compared with Infocom's better games it comes off quite badly. It's a shame that Mike Berlyn's considerable talents were squandered on the middling "Tales of Adventure" series of Infocom games. This would prove to be his last text adventure game at Infocom.

To start: I love Nancy Drew, and I had high expectations for an Infocom partnership with Jim Lawrence. Seriously!

Seastalker was authored and marketed as a children's game, and Infocom partnered with a successful author of children's fiction to write it. Despite the potential, it's hard to imagine Seastalker turning out any worse than it did. It's mechanically dull, the feelies are oddly irritating, and--most bafflingly--there is an actual stalker. Not a sea serpent, mind you, but a fake nice guy who tries to teach a woman that "she's just a human being like the rest of us -- and not only a human being, but a warm, desirable woman...!" by CUTTING OFF HER OXYGEN! Really! Such a strange thing to hide in a children's game.

The first major part of the game involves piloting an experimental sub (designed by the protagonist) through "Frobton Bay." Mechanically, this requires consulting a bathymetric map and using its depth information to navigate an on-screen ASCII map of the sub's immediate surroundings. It's a novelty, but I think a player's enjoyment will come down to taste. In any case, it isn't a model of play that appeared in later Infocom games. I did not enjoy it, personally, but recognize the attempt to innovate.

Once the bay is cleared, the autopilot kicks in, freeing up the protagonist to deal with an apparent act of sabotage. That's an ongoing concern throughout Seastalker: traitors or moles. I think this element was a major missed opportunity, as it would be enjoyable to discover clues about a double agent. Even if the answer was withheld until a climactic moment, these discoveries would enhance a sense of danger and help maintain tension. As it is, concerns over saboteurs rise like bubbles to the surface only to pop and leave no trace.

Once the oxygen plot is foiled, the protagonist must work with its perpetrator to upgrade the submarine. This is a case where the novelistic sensibilities of Jim Lawrence clash with the demands of gameplay progression in IF. In order to foster a sense of collaboration with a specialized team, many characters will approach the protagonist and ask a yes or no question: "Would you like to install the frob on the front-left frob arm?" The player must answer. I am not completely certain, but I think saying "no" can lock the player out of winning. In this sense, the function of the questions is to dramatize a team effort to upgrade the submarine. It is not, as one might have guessed, an occasion to evaluate the characters' offers and tailor the sub to the player's liking.

Experiences will vary, but I found the mechanic jarring in an immersion-disrupting way. I think that this is also a "knowledge of past lives" situation in which a player can be killed by failing to take a specific action some turns previous. Those of you who have followed my writing know that I try to be philosophical about old games and the "Player's Bill of Rights." In this case, though, there is no sense of danger--quite the opposite, in fact--that would prompt the player to save or even be wary. At least, if there was, I missed it.

The climactic battle involves a return to the ASCII sonar interface for a high-speed chase. It's hard to gauge how good this is or isn't. It is not the kind of gameplay that typically draws IF fans. This is also the moment in which the nemesis and a TRIPLE agent are exposed. It's a little underwhelming because, as mentioned above, you as a player haven't really been on the trail of these people. I think the scene illuminates the ways in which the craft of IF and the craft of fiction are different. Neither philosophy has a chance to shine here, and the work suffers as a result.

The feelies are unusually bad for this period in Infocom's history. They don't translate well to PDF, which is how many modern players will experience the game. They aren't very good in physical form, either--I have a folio copy. Passages of text (descriptions, mostly) are randomly left out of the game, and the player must sift through many cards to find a matching entry. As a former kid, I recognize that this might have initially had a "gee whiz" appeal, but there are many cards and many more snippets of text. The novelty wears off, and the process breaks immersion and takes time (Example cases include descriptions of Sharon Kemp, the scimitar, etc.). Still, the "Discovery Squad" patch is a nice touch and would have certainly appealed to my more young and adventurous self.

I can't recommend Seastalker. Its writing just doesn't work very well, it fails (though I recognize the effort) to create the forward motion of traditional fiction in an IF game, the ending comes out of nowhere, the creepy stalker suffers no loss in social capital for his outlandish behavior, and the feelies--usually a draw for Infocom--feel like a hassle. It is also among Infocom's least accessible games due to its graphics, joining Infidel, Zork III, Enchanter, and Zork Zero.

I grant it one star as what is most likely Infocom's worst game; it's deepest depths. If I were comparing it to games of the day generally, it would merit two stars just for Infocom's parser. In any case, children deserved better.

I've learned that my disappointment with Sorcerer is a minority opinion, but it has garnered its share of ambivalent reviews over the years. Obviously, Steve Meretzky making puzzles with Enchanter's magic system could never culminate in a bad game, or even a mediocre one, but the result can match neither Enchanter's innovations nor Spellbreaker's moments of transcendence. It is, in other words, a good game wedged between two brilliant ones.

Its chief problem is a lack of coherence. The Zork trilogy is held together by a kind of subsumed mournfulness. Elsewhere, the recently abandoned habitations and escalating ambiance of dread in Enchanter create a sense of the stakes. Sorcerer feels aimless by comparison, and the player may forget their goal altogether in favor of riding the rides at Bozbarland, a surprisingly thorough (in those days of constrained computing resources) implementation of an amusement park.

That isn't to say that there aren't mechanical satisfactions. Sorcerer's two most famous puzzles deserve their reputations. They also are remarkably different. One relies on intuition, while the other requires careful mapping and spatial awareness. I have often said that Steve Meretzky was Infocom's most reliable puzzlemaker, and Sorcerer offers no counterarguments.

A frequent complaint is that something must be completed in the first (I just checked) 27 moves or so, and it isn't completely clear that this is so. It's true! If that kind of old-school meanness could turn you off of the game entirely, then (Spoiler - click to show)prioritize finding a use for the matchbook.

It's the weakest of what I call the Zork saga (the two complete trilogies in that universe), but that's a very high ceiling. Sorcerer is a four-star game among five-star games, and worth a play for those interested in Infocom's magic system or the Zork universe.

Infidel is a rather humorless game that finds its protagonist exploring a previously undiscovered Egyptian pyramid in search of treasure and fame. It's a perfect setting for that oldest and most thoroughly explored adventure gaming oevure: the treasure hunt. Even by Infocom standards, the setting is quite deadly. This is a game that assumes frequent, unmotivated saving. That was a norm in 1983, and contemporary gamers/readers will be frequently frustrated if they are not willing to adopt the habit.

That is something students and enthusiasts of older texts (in a technical medium, 4 decades feels more like 4 centuries) must do, isn't it? Meet them where they are. Or were.

Mechanically, the "hook" that makes the deathtraps of Infidel unique is the system of hieroglyphs used to provide clues and identify the names--or even, sometimes, the significance--of objects and locations in the pyramid. Over the course of the game, the player's "codebook" will grow as they find and decipher new glyphs. These symbols are displayed as ASCII characters, so be sure your interpreter (if you are using one) has a properly selected fixed-width font (IMPORTANT: as in other games, use of these characters poses an accessibility problem for players who use screen reader applications). While I did like Infidel on a mechanical level, players who either don't or can't enjoy the codebreaking metapuzzle will likely have a less interesting experience.

If that were all, Infidel would be a nice, little game--short for an early Infocom puzzler but diverting enough. That isn't all, though. Persons interested in artistic or literary craft in interactive fiction--especially its history or evolution--will find its critique of the adventure game genre and its gamification of colonial plunder interesting. Reviewing the game's packaging and documentation is essential to understanding this facet of the game.

Infidel's initial critical reception is interesting to consider as well. Several persons have written about it in detail over the years.

My rating is highly qualified. If the codebreaking element sounds appealing, you will likely find this game satisfying mechanically. If the historical or craft elements interest you, Infidel offers a lot to think about. For those interested in neither, Infidel is a bit of a hard sell.

1983. For the first time since Zork, the dream team of Marc Blank and Dave Lebling reunited. Both were seasoned implementors, as their work on Deadline, Zork II, Zork III, and Starcross attested. Lebling in particular had, in Starcross, created a Zork-style large, open map filled with puzzles and treasures that actually served a purpose in their game world.

Lebling's evolving mastery of the form must have been a great benefit to the team. Back is a large, open map filled with puzzles and treasures. In Enchanter, Blank and Lebling come up with Infocom's most exciting treasure yet: spell scrolls. The protagonist is the titular Enchanter--a novice wizard who can memorize and cast a variety of spells from a spell book. New spells can be added to the book, and it is consistently exciting to do so. Each adds new possibilities for gameplay. The implementation of spells is atypically expansive: you can cast spells on all sorts of things, whether doing so advances the plot or not.

In Enchanter, you are sent to the fortress of the warlock Krill, an evil wizard who is casting a spell that will forever cloak the world in darkness. It is explained that Krill would immediately detect and kill a powerful wizard, so the Circle of Enchanters sends you instead. Within, there are some truly excellent puzzles, a death cult, and a rapidly escalating sense of doom. Since no more zany, madcap hijinks remain to be ported from the PDP version of Zork, Blanc and Lebling are finally free to create a tonally consistent game in the Zork universe. The fortress--and the world outside it--deteriorate daily, and the nights keep getting longer. There are some good jokes, too, but the balance works better than Zork III's text at war with itself, pitting as it does the old versus the new.

Enchanter is quite fair. My only quibble is that becoming a light source makes the game unwinnable. While I do get it--how would the player ever sleep?--it feels obnoxious after Zork II's ending. Standout favorites include The Unseen Terror and the talking turtle. Talking to animals unfortunately doesn't reach Deadline levels of complexity, but it's still a lot of fun. There are surprises I have not mentioned--why spoil your good time?

Those who played Zork III will recognize the scene from "Zork IV." If Lebling and Blank struggled to incorporate it, it doesn't show. In fact, that's a way to sum up Enchanter: the struggle never shows. This is a well-designed map filled with fair puzzles of reasonable difficulty. The new magic system is is intuitive and satisfying, and it constantly rewards the player's progress. Everything just settles into place. Enchanter is an impeccably crafted adventure game, the as-yet best Zorkian Infocom title.

I suppose that Enchanter is not Infocom's best game. It is, however, my favorite. I encourage everyone to at least try casting a few spells or meeting briefly with the protagonist from the Zork Trilogy (seriously!)

A warning: Enchanter has hunger, thirst, and sleep timers. I found them less intrusive than those is Planetfall, but they're present all the same. Dreams provide some useful clues, so there is at least a point to sleeping. Like other games of its ilk, Enchanter offers little in terms of plot or characterization.