Press Play to Start: ‘Kirby and the Forgotten Land’ shows that there is power in simplicity
Is it just me or did this semester fly by?
It felt like spring break was just yesterday, but now we’re already two weeks away from the end of classes. What even happened?
Now that I think about it, I’ve probably just been so caught up in my coursework to really notice the months change. I’m sure we’ve all experienced moments when we’re so focused on the assignments at hand that we tune out the rest of the world.
In my case, I’ve also had the added stress of being extremely close to graduating, which means all my classes deal with advanced content that requires a great deal of effort to understand.
Not that I’m complaining, it’s natural to progress from simple concepts to complex versions of them as your understanding of a certain area grows. That is certainly the case for academia, but it also applies to most things in life, including video games. After all, putting hardware limitations aside, it would be weird for games nowadays to look and play the same as they did back in the ‘80s.
While this progress is obviously for the better, I can’t help but feel as if certain games get too caught up in these new mechanics. A clear example of this is the so-called “clicker games,” also known as “idle games.”
After developers understood that gamers found clicking satisfying, they took it to the next level and made that the only mechanic present in the game. The result was games such as “Cookie Clicker” and “Adventure Capitalist,” where players click one or two buttons without any reason or goal in mind. Worse, it doesn’t take too long for these games to automatically click for you either, taking away the sole venue of gameplay.
Even putting those games aside, it doesn’t take long to find other examples of recent formats that rely on one or two gimmicks to keep players returning. Gacha games, the topic of an early column of mine, are notoriously known for their addictive tactics, combining fun designs and gambling elements to retain its player base, even with weeks of no new content.
The result is a series of games that, overall, are highly addictive but not really that fun to play. While they were born from an extensive study of gaming habits and attitudes, they still feel shallow, as if they’ve been so worried about optimizing their experience that they forgot to actually entertain the audience.
Of course, they’re not the only games on the market. After all, just two columns ago, I wrote about the new and downright amazing video game “Elden Ring.” But for those of us who play one or two of those highly optimized games, these great titles often feel like the exception to the rule.
Sure, “Elden Ring” is certainly a masterpiece, but compared to the hundreds of gimmicky games released in the same year, can we say that it’s a good indication of where the industry is headed?
The antidote to these games, then, is not necessarily amazing titles such as “Elden Ring,” which are more like outliers than anything else but rather, successful games that have changed very little throughout the years or whose changes have been made solely with entertainment in mind.
Sure, they might be clunky around the edges and feature segments that are frustrating, but the sheer fact that their age-old formula has persisted after decades shows that the simple pleasures of gaming still hold strong to this day.
Case in point: “Kirby and the Forgotten Land.”
I’ve been a Kirby fan since I was little, but even I was amazed by this new title. Finally bringing all the Kirby charm into 3D, the game features fun and challenging platforming puzzles, introducing a handful of new mechanics while at the same time keeping the tried-and-true formula of inhaling enemies and absorbing their powers as its base.
The game, while not perfect, was still a breath of fresh air for me and kept me coming back even though it had none of the addictive elements I previously described. For some reason, I just couldn’t get enough of it. I was so hypnotized by the game that even my partner decided to jump in, helping me finish off the main story and post-game content.
After definitively finishing all that the game had to offer, I reflected on why it had such a tight grip on me for quite some time. As always, the answer had been simpler than what I expected: It was just fun.
It was fun to inhale enemies, use their powers and traverse levels. Since the game didn’t rely on one mechanic in particular, none of the fatigue of gimmicky games kicked in.
After finishing the game, both my partner and I were left wanting even more. Of course, if there were more levels, the game might have overstayed its welcome. But the sheer fact that we were left with that desire spoke volumes about how fun and charming it was.
If there is any lesson to be learned from this experience, it might be that it’s sometimes good to look back and understand why people enjoyed something in the first place. While advancements are undeniably good, it’s very easy for creators to get caught up in one or two gimmicks and create experiences that are too artificial to be fun.
In light of finals season, make sure to take a step back and remember what drew you into your major in the first place. Maybe it’s something you’ve always been good at, or maybe always had an interest in. It can even be something extremely simple.
In my case, it was having fun writing with my friends for the school magazine. Regardless of the magnitude, remembering what caused that initial spark and set you down this path might help you regain that initial wonder and stop you from being focused only on the upcoming assignment.
In the worst-case scenario, it might give you the motivation you so desperately need after you fail a test.
Guilherme Guerreiro is a junior writing about esports. His column, “Press Start to Play,” runs every other Tuesday.