Ratings and Reviews by Drew Cook

If Zork I is Infocom's most iconic title and Trinity its most critically admired, then perhaps Planetfall is the most likely to engender sentimental attachment. Reviews breathlessly enthuse about its supporting character, Floyd, and rightfully so. I am fairly confident that Planetfall is the first bit of electronic entertainment to make people cry (excepting tears of frustration). Nothing can take such an accomplishment from Meretzsky or Planetfall.

It would seem, though, that attitudes toward Planetfall have shifted over the years. It is the second highest-rated Infocom title ranked by IFDB. If I am not mistaken it was, for a time, rated more highly than Trinity. Be that as it may, it has not appeared on a "Top 50 of All Time" list since 2011, while Trinity, Zork, and Wishbringer have endured. Stranger still, the once frequently-dismissed Suspended made the 2019 list. Were I still in graduate school, I would beg a site administrator to expose the raw rating data. When were these ratings for Planetfall entered? What is the historical trend? Since I am no longer in graduate school, we will have to settle for an obvious truth: tastes change, people change.

Then and now, Planetfall has had a lot going for it. You, the protagonist, are living on borrowed time and must (Spoiler - click to show)find a cure for the disease that is killing you. The setup instills Planetfall with something frequently absent from Infocom games: a sense of narrative urgency. As you explore a strangely abandoned alien science outpost, you solve an assortment of well-clued, satisfying puzzles. The gonzo hijinks of your robot companion, somehow, do not negate the empty outpost's ambiance of ominous desolation. The game's final set piece ending is truly exhilarating, Infocom's best so far.

Everything works so well that a player may not even notice how hard Planetfall works to--for lack of a better phrase--jerk them around. The inventory management implementation is rather extreme, even for Infocom. The game world is liberally populated with red herrings to clog up your limited carrying capacity. When you pick up one too many items, you drop not only the item you were attempting to carry but also drop another random item from your inventory. A long train ride separates two large areas--if you don't bring the correct items to the train you may as well restore your game. And you won't bring the right items. Really. You find a key and lock combination (Spoiler - click to show)that work far away from your current location. After you lug yourself, saddled as you are with food, sleep, and disease timers, across the entire game world (truly! end-to-end), you will discover that the combination is completely worthless. Elsewhere, It is likely that you will find yourself hungry and tired while carrying a large ladder--having dropped your food to free up carrying capacity--down a very long hallway. Planetfall is also the first Infocom game to incorporate sleep and hunger timers.

That this mix still succeeds says a lot about the creative powers of Steve Meretzsky. What other game could require the management and planning of Suspended without the satisfactions of a management and planning game, and yet enjoy the love of so many people? What is Planetfall's secret? It can't be the ending, (Spoiler - click to show)which stretches credibility so far that one of the "Eaten by a Grue" podcasters thought that it was a dying hallucination of the kind found in "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge." The secret is Floyd; what a difference a robot makes! His implementation is incredibly shallow--you can't ask him about anything and you can only get him to do a few things, and yet it really does feel as though he is your friend. He is the Eliza of computer game sidekicks. People who have written about IF academically tend to be interested in Floyd, and why wouldn't they be?

For its ability to rouse actual tears, Planetfall qualifies as too big to judge. Thus, I assign no rating to it. Even if, decades ago, you--tired, hungry, and sick--left the laser at the far end of the train tracks, you must still admit that (Spoiler - click to show)the scene outside the Bio Lab got to you.

Worth a look, if only to know what everybody else is talking about. Or was talking about. For many, it will be worth more than a look.

Edit: I should mention that I encountered a nasty problem with release 39. Dropped items did not appear in room descriptions. I'm not sure what triggered it, but I recommend playing another version.

Stu Galley was, perhaps, Infocom's chief internal evangelist. He was the author of the idealistic "Implementor's Creed" and deeply believed in the potential of interactive fiction. To him, making IF was more than a job; it was a calling. Beyond Galley's significant technical contributions--he performed a late-Infocom rewrite of their parser--he was an important contributor to Infocom's culture, a needed source of aspirational seriousness that leavened the company's wisecracking Zorkiness. I feel both admiration and gratitude for Galley's contributions to the history of interactive fiction.

The opening of Stu Galley's first game, The Witness, is marvelously atmospheric. Take, for instance, this initial description of the victim's daughter: "Monica stops talking and looks at you sharply. She is a woman in her mid-twenties. Her grey eyes flash, emphasizing her dark waved hair and light but effective make-up. She wears a navy Rayon blouse, tan slacks, and tan pumps with Cuban heels. She acts as though you were a masher who just gave her a whistle." The feelies include a VERY authentic newspaper--game specific articles share pages with actual articles culled from the 30's. An included matchbook with a phone number written on it is another nice touch.

Between the feelies and the opening, it really seems that we players are in for a deliciously noir story. But when we find ourselves sitting in a chair, attempting to speak with a character who has little to say about a small number of topics and nothing to say about everything else, it is clear that something is wrong. With nothing else to say or do, the player is obliged to idle in a room with a person who invited them over to have a serious, life and death conversation while repeatedly typing "z," waiting for something to happen.

I take no pleasure in saying so, but there's nothing else for it. The Witness is a bad piece of interactive fiction. There are only four characters to talk to, and nearly all of their responses to your questions are one or two sentences long. They hardly react when caught lying. In fact, the murderer hardly reacts to being caught. Anyone who enjoyed Infocom's previous mystery, Deadline, will be baffled and disappointed by the complete lack of complex character interaction here. There are few clues to find and many empty locations that you will never have a reason to visit. The wonderful opening is like a rainbow lying atop a greasy puddle--there is little worthwhile underneath.

That certain Infocom polish, working in concert with excellent feelies, earns The Witness two stars. I can only recommend it for Infocom and/or mystery completionists.

Of all of Infocom's folio release titles, Suspended is the least-reviewed and second least-rated here at IFDB. I have seen it referred to as a "management and optimization" game, and I think the intended meaning is that Suspended is not "real" IF.

I don't agree.

This is because most of Infocom's early games have major management components. In Planetfall, consider the juggling required to get all potentially useful items from one complex to another. If you don't think these matters are serious in Planetfall, try carrying a ladder someplace while hungry or tired. Zork II likely requires at least two playthroughs: one where you learn what to do, and one where you do it before your lamp runs out. To solve Deadline, you will likely plan and then follow a strict schedule, making sure to be in exactly the right places at exactly the right time.

Suspended is different in that it is open about its management components. Quite open. In fact, the folio's manual dedicates real estate to "strategic planning." I appreciate it when a game lets me know what I am in for, provided it can deliver in an interesting way.

Speaking of the folio, I believe Suspended is the game that suffers the most in its transition from folio to grey box. The folio's featureless, white face, masking a terrified visage crowned with electrical leads, is instantly compelling. While Infocom would never really embrace graphics, they certainly seem to realize how effectively the right visuals can induce potent emotional responses. The folio manual is better, too, and I encourage new players to retrieve all package materials from the Museum of Computer Adventure Game History before starting.

In Suspended, you play a cryogenically frozen person that must, should an emergency occur, be roused from slumber. Awake as you suddenly are, it is your task to stabilize the "Filtering Computers" responsible for controlling weather, food production, and mass transportation for the entire planet of Contra. Casualties mount by the minute, and should you take too long, you will be killed and replaced by a clone.

The protagonist never leaves the cryochamber. Instead, they interface with six robots that both act and perceive on the player's behalf, and these robots constantly feed the player information. Each has different sensory abilities, so they have different names and descriptions for objects they encounter. Their descriptions of rooms differ as well. In the first playthrough it would be wise to send every robot to every room, just to see what all of them say. I really enjoyed this dimension of the game; it is a bit like the parable of the blind men and the elephant. The game world is small, but you get to see it six different ways.

I have also seen it said that there isn't a story here. I believe the documents included create a strong sense of place which is reinforced by certain observable events. I also think Suspended is the only Infocom game with what I would call enduring narrative propulsion. Starcross begins with a clear sense of forward movement, but once you reach a certain point there are no time constraints. In Suspended, you have to deal with the evolving situation effectively or you will die. You have to do so by immediately mitigating problems while developing a permanent solution. The urgency never lets up. The plot, modest as it is, remains, er... suspenseful due to constraints, temporal and otherwise.

Just as in other early Infocom games, multiple playthroughs are likely needed before solving Suspended. There are traditional puzzles to solve--some of them quite challenging. I remember my satisfaction upon completing Suspended for the first time, only to discover that I had allowed so many casualties that the populace wanted to burn me at the stake! After a few more tries I was able to get the best possible score. That time, only 12,000 people died. Getting the best score was unusually satisfying, even compared with other Infocom titles.

I have seen at least one critic attempt to psychoanalyze the sort of person who likes Suspended. I don't think that's necessary, but I will say that not everyone will care for it. I believe players open to multiple playthroughs will enjoy it the most. Trying to get everything right the first time will lead only to frustration. The sort of person who would enjoy making a map from complex data (Suspended actually comes with a map, but it doesn't say what is in each room) and interpreting non-visual descriptions of places and things will probably enjoy mastering Suspended. Players who dislike learning from failure or using knowledge gained from previous playthroughs probably should give it a miss.

Suspended's gameplay scenario is one that only interactive fiction could handle well, given that most video games rely exclusively on visual and auditory stimuli. Sight and hearing are the least-utilized senses in Suspended.

It's worth noting that Suspended is Mike Berlyn's first Infocom game, and I believe Marc Blank recruited him for his writing chops. I suppose some might find it ironic that Suspended is so narratively non-traditional, but I think that perspective sells IF short. Surely we all realize now that IF is a much bigger tent than we may have assumed way back when, no matter which robot is in the room.

I'm trying to work my way through the Infocom catalog, posting my thoughts on a gaming forum all the while.

In 1981, Dave Lebling assumed responsibility for porting Zork II to home computers. Meanwhile, Marc Blank worked on Deadline. The next year, Blank wrote/developed Zork III while Lebling worked on his own pet-project, a hard sci-fi adventure that would come to be known as Starcross.

Both Deadline and Starcross struggled mightily with the size limitations imposed by microcomputers: these games had to run on systems like the TRS-80. Blank, rather ingeniously, overcame some of the problems by the use of feelies, thereby moving in-program text to packaging. Lebling, unfortunately, did not have the same opportunity. In a game about exploring the unknown, how could feelies do such textual heavy lifting?

It seems uncharitable to hold Lebling accountable for the TRS-80's shortcomings, but these problems must be talked about all the same. The Starcross map is large--entirely appropriate for a massive alien artifact. The most important objects in Deadline are its suspects, and they are deeply implemented. Starcross, as a function of its large map, is wide but shallow. Most objects are briefly described (if at all), and interaction is largely limited to objects that in some way progress the game.

Depending on a player's taste, this may or may not be an issue. Starcross is chock-full of difficult-but-fair puzzles, and those who enjoy such fare are in for a treat. Be warned that some require very basic knowledge of chemistry and physics. I have seen a reviewer state that Starcross is not "Zork in Space," but I'm not sure how true that really is. In fact, I think that Starcross is a sort of "lessons learned" effort for Lebling. It improves upon Zork's weaknesses while capitalizing on its strengths (except for the jokes, which is a matter of taste): fair(er) puzzles, a logical and well-designed map, treasures that serve a clear function, and sense of exploration that feels purposeful. It is the intermediate step between Zork and Spellbreaker. I find a clear throughline leading from point A to point C.

Even forgiving as I do Starcross's light implementation, I should acknowledge two flaws. One is minor, and one less so--which is which depends entirely on your tastes! Many have pointed out the unfortunate possibility of verb-guessing in getting the red rod. I think these critiques are fair. The other problem is the ending. (Spoiler - click to show)I won't spoil it here except to say that it feels randomly tacked on and retroactively makes a good deal of the game rather nonsensical. It would seem that Lebling started with Rendezvous with Rama and ended it with 2001: A Space Odyssey. I think one Clarke novel per game is enough.

My rating is therefore a highly qualified four stars. If you are interested in Infocom games (perhaps Spellbreaker in particular), this is at least worth a look. There are many hard, satisfying puzzles here. The exploration is enjoyable despite the limited interactivity. However, those more interested in story and rich interaction will likely have a two-star experience.

I'm trying to work my way through the Infocom catalog, posting my thoughts on a gaming forum all the while.

Zork III is an ambitious and subversive game, and I feel Marc Blank was courageous in turning Zork, Infocom's cash cow, on its head. It assumes a tone of glum enervation; the whole world seems faded and spent. Our former treasure hunter is all grown-up: wisecracks and platinum bars no longer hold their attention. The Adventurer doesn't want to PLAY a cave game; rather, they want to RUN the game.

The game world is Zork's most geographically and tonally consistent to-date. The only parts that stand out, rather jarringly, are those ported from the mainframe version of Zork. Whether people enjoy it or not, the Royal Puzzle has nothing to do with anything Zork III is about. I wonder if Blank felt obligated to port these areas over untouched, just as I wonder if Lebling had done with Zork II's Bank of Zork puzzle.

Zork III's new scoring system is a clear indicator that this isn't the Zork you're used to. There are only seven possible points in the game, and you get a point when you're on the right track, story-wise. It's appropriate: after all, in Zork III's opening crawl, you are told to seek The Dungeon Master when you are "worthy." It's a harder thing to quantify than "get the twenty treasures of Zork and put them in your trophy case."

There are some fine puzzles to be found: the scenic vista and GOLMAC puzzles are especially enjoyable. One affords a sneak preview of "Zork IV" and the other is one of the game's only sources of Zorkian humor.

It is a shame that the second part of mainframe Zork embedded in the game is the final puzzle. It doesn't really feel relevant, and there's no sense of climax. It's just a silly little logic doodle and easily brute forced. At least the zany trivia quiz from mainframe Zork--absent here--engendered a sense of culmination.

Reviewing text dumps from both mainframe Zork and Zork III, one sees that the final scenes of both are almost identical, though Blank did append a brief concluding paragraph. This paragraph is, not surprisingly, about power, and it is one of the only times (in any Zork game) that we are given insight into the Adventurer's motivations. I've seen the idea floating around that this conclusion can be read as a metaphor for the birth of IF as a medium. Whether such arguments are right or wrong, I must agree Zork III is an invitation to us, the players; it calls us to think about the potential powers of IF.

Despite Zork III's missteps there remains a sense that something remarkable has happened. It would seem that Marc Blank has attempted to declare (prematurely, I'll admit) The End of The Cave Game. Zork III is in its way a critique of the genre's idealization of material gain and acknowledges, at long last, that there there is something lost when a civilization falls. Zork III is, if nothing else, the moment in which Zork escapes ADVENT's shadow.

I suppose it is long-established now that Interactive Fiction is art, but it wasn't always so. I would argue, whether it is art or not, that Zork III is IF's first overtly artistic gesture.

Zork III is a foundational work and rating it with this or that many stars would lose sight of this truth.

I am playing Starcross next and will, as promised, give it a rating.

Postscript: I have seen comments, here and elsewhere, about unwinnable games, and I have to say I find them rather overstated and ungenerous. It requires roughly five minutes and 110 turns to revisit every possible puzzle, including the optional sailor scene, before the earthquake. This is without a map or notes.

I'm trying to work my way through the Infocom catalog, posting my thoughts on a gaming forum all the while.

Deadline was, in its day, a technical marvel. Nothing in Zork I or II could have prepared players for its intricate machinery. The suspects roam the map, living out their respective days, and these people can actually talk about more than one thing! They sometimes alter their schedules based on what the player does. The protagonist can catch them lying by confronting with evidence. They can be tailed or hidden from. You can even send items to a crime lab for analysis. Deadline is, in other words, a game where you get to do cool detective stuff.

The mystery itself is of the locked door kind, a type familiar to anyone who has read a bit of genre fiction. It is rewarding to unravel, too. There are multiple people deserving of the player's suspicion, and multiple playthroughs will likely be required before the player can focus on the killer.

It makes for a type of "groundhog day" effect; the player will have to spend time learning the characters' schedules and narrowing the investigation.

I have heard others say that Deadline is unfair, though I didn't find it so. Much will depend upon the player's actions when discovering a specific clue. Some find the appropriate action unmotivated, while others had no such problems. I have seen competent and experienced players stand on both sides of the fence, so your own experience of Deadline's fairness will likely be idiosyncratic.

It was one of the first Infocom games I played as a boy, but I never solved it then. That would come years later, taking me two years. It was a game I put down and later returned to, again and again. I usually thought of new things to try while in the shower or driving. It's that kind of experience.

Deadline is the first game of its kind. Other games labelled as mysteries really weren't. Not like this.

I don't think that awarding a rating to Deadline would be very productive. It is a foundational work in terms of both story and programming. I'll start rating games with Starcross if/when I get there.

I'm trying to work my way through the Infocom catalog, posting my thoughts on a gaming forum all the while.

I find it hard to evaluate Zork II, but perhaps this is my problem alone. After all, it is the second best-rated Zork game on IFDB, surpassed only by the rather corpulent Zork Zero.

It contains what many consider the two worst puzzles in the Infocom canon. One, I am happy to forgive, considering the intent behind it. In creating the infamous "baseball maze," Dave Lebling wished make to something interesting out of Zork I's least interesting obstacle: the maze. It is, in other words, a failed attempt to innovate. The other notorious Zork II puzzle is the Bank of Zork, which is only inches away from being a worthwhile and challenging puzzle. Unfortunately, it was simply ported directly from the mainframe version of Zork. I wonder if Lebling was unwilling to alter Marc Blank's work (the puzzle was his creation). Judging from his talk at a GDC Post Mortem years ago, Lebling knew that the puzzle had issues. He knew that others at Infocom had problems with the puzzle. The Bank of Zork went in untouched, all the same.

So I will forgive one and begrudge the other.

In other good news: Zork II's map feels far more organic than Zork I's, despite the fact that they were largely cut from the same puzzle-laden cloth. My only complaint is that its central hub, the carousel, is a massive waste of your lantern's batteries, and there is no torch to save you this time. On your first playthrough, you may immediately stumble upon the source of the carousel's spinning, or you may not reach it until your lamp is flickering. Just as many game developers today do, Infocom was perhaps struggling to find the line between a challenge and a hassle.

The game's final act before victory appears to be unmotivated, and a related event can render the game unwinnable.

However, the game's new additions, the Wizard and the demon, take Zork II in an interesting and new direction. This time, the treasures are actually FOR something. There is a reasonable, in-game reason for collecting treasure that propels Zork, a game and a half later, beyond the reach of ADVENT's shadow. Slight as it is, we have something new here: a bona fide story.

The titular Wizard is a mixed bag. At the time, of course, he was a bit of a marvel, performing feats of magic that had differing effects based on multiple factors. He was additionally a font of Zorkian humor, alternately causing you to levitate out of a hot air baloon or... conjuring the smell of fudge.

By the time your second playthrough rolls around (the one where you are better able to conserve lantern batteries), you will likely have tired of him and his battery-burning abra kadabery. Though far less remarked-upon, the really compelling new character is the demon--Lebling obviously enjoyed writing him.

Zork II is an interesting pivot point for Infocom. The Adventurer is no longer *just* a looter of fallen civilizations. They are playing a bigger game now, defeating wizards and ordering demons about. While few saw it coming, the glum ambiance of Zork III makes sense. The time has come, as they say, to put away childish things.

I like Zork II more than Zork, and I think I am in the minority despite IFDB's numbers: these things are hardly scientific. I feel that, in Zork II, the confines of ADVENT's "cave game" have begun to buckle. Lebling's addition of Wizard, Demon, and modest plot are quite innovative for their time, and they were brought to life by what was then the world's most sophisticated parser.

Like Zork I, Zork II is historically significant. It is worth a visit if nothing else, and can be quite enjoyable if one is accepting of such an old game's eccentricities.

I give no rating for Zork II. I'm not sure that measuring it against contemporary standards is relevant.

In my effort to get through all of Infocom's games, I have determined that Zork I-III and Deadline are too big to judge. I'll give a rating for Starcross if/when I get there.

I'm trying to work my way through the Infocom catalog, posting my thoughts on a gaming forum all the while.

I started with Zork I, and I suppose it's easy to give it a hard time. The plot is more than thin--a monofilament of a story. The protagonist, an indeterminate blank slate, reaches a small white house in the midst of a forest. Reading the manual(s) accompanying Zork I, the player is told that the Adventurer wants treasure for themselves. The game will award points for collecting it and placing it in a trophy case.

Why does the Adventurer leave the treasure behind, if they want it so much? What is the significance of the case, unremarkably sitting in an unremarkably abandoned house?

In the course of their treasure hunt, the player-protagonist wanders a rather inorganic funhouse of a map, looking for things to do, solving puzzles until all rooms and treasures are discovered.

One of the means of fast travel, while convenient, has no apparent clues as to its use.

Zork has an expiring light source, though sooner or later an alternative may or may not be found.

There are a whopping three mazes, none of them fun or interesting. The largest and most tedious, called only "Maze," features 12 possible exits from each of its rooms as well as an NPC that picks up and moves dropped items--the Hansel and Gretel approach will not work here. Wise players will swallow their pride and retrieve a map from somewhere. Mapping this monstrosity is in no way worth the trouble.

It's easy to forget that the design of Zork was initially undertaken in order to improve upon ADVENT, which was then the only widely-known game of its kind. I suppose this may be a controversial statement: Zork does, in fact, improve upon ADVENT in almost every meaningful way. It is more technologically sophisticated, running on an engine that eventually evolved into one that is widely used today in contemporary IF. It has a sense of humor. It is, compared with its only competitor at the time, more interactive and more descriptive. The puzzles--the fair ones, at least--are more interesting than those in ADVENT. I have seen essays indicating that ADVENT makes fewer mistakes, but then again there is far less of it to begin with.

The parser at the time was a revelation. In ADVENT, the player DROPs treasures on the floor. In Zork, the player PUTs them in a CONTAINER.

We are lucky that Zork made so many mistakes, thus sparing future efforts the indignity of making them. It was not yet clear what made adventure games fun, but Zork was the first step in figuring that out.

This is not to say that parts of it are not fun. I particularly enjoyed the "bell, book, and candle" and coal mine puzzles.

Zork is worth playing for the sense of context it provides. If its outdated nature annoys, then the invisiclues z-code is legally available at The Infocom Documentation Project, free of charge. I found it satisfying to solve, but I think just looking around is worthwhile for the curious.

I give no rating for Zork. I'm not sure that measuring it against contemporary standards is relevant.