It's been a long time since I've played an adventure
game.
How long? Well, let's just say that it was back in
the days when the box said "Infocom"
and the computer's nameplate read "Atari."
I can't possibly express how many hours I spent with
titles like "Suspended,""The
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," and (most
memorably) "Planetfall."
There were no pictures, but the language in those games
conjured indelible images that I'll always remember.
Each title was marked by intricate plotting, interesting
descriptions, and a keen, occasionally morbid sense
of humor. Those were the salad days of adventure gaming.
Now, before the young'uns out there throw out an optic
nerve rolling their eyes about another "dem's were
the good old days" column, I should mention that
we did play a few adventure games with graphics as well.
Some played more like arcade games loosely based on
some kind of adventure ("Aztec
Challenge" springs to mind, but more on that
game later), but most worked hard to make visuals a
critical aspect of the adventures themselves. The results,
however, were usually horrendous. The stories were moribund,
and the graphics just weren't sophisticated enough to
effectively replace the imagination and imagery words
could provide.
Then came Myst. PC evolution had finally delivered
computers with graphics and sound advanced enough to
create a truly immersive environment. Until quite recently,
Myst was still the best selling computer game ever,
and it spawned countless imitators, most of which failed
miserably enough to make even the most dedicated adventure
gamer fire up Doom and never look back. Unlike it's
competitors, Myst wove a truly literary plot with a
dedication to the idea that there's no point to creating
such a lush environment if you don't let players wander
around and play with it. Add in a clever mythology informed
by the game designers' deep spirituality, and you have
a hit with heart.
Or so I hear. Unlike a gazillion other people, I've
never played the original Myst, not even for a minute.
And I've yet to trek through the hit sequel Riven either.
My reason is simple, and it's not going to read like
some luddite manifesto on the way video killed the text
game star. Quite simply, I am keenly aware of the destruction
that a good adventure game can wreak in one's life,
and I'm much more exciting than I was at age thirteen
(a backhanded self-compliment if there ever was one).
So when Don and Dave asked if I'd review Myst III:
Exile, I nervously agreed. In fact, the box arrived
on my doorstep one short week after the end of my honeymoon,
and one long week into a large bathroom renovation in
my "handyman's special" home. The pressure
was intense: would my blushing bride turn red with rage
when she realized that I was a recovering gameaholic
who had just fallen off the wagon? Would my work performance
suffer under the strain of my sleep deprivation and
puzzle-solving daydreams? Would my home earn one of
those "House of Filth!" segments on the local
news as the half-wrecked bathroom spread a fog of construction
dust above the entire property?
Fortunately, the Engstrom boys didn't send any ordinary
copy of the game. I opened the shipping box to see 1)
an official MacReviewZone Mug (get yours now!),
2) a bottle of delicious wine (Congratulations for the
wedding? Tension relief for my wife? You decide!), and
3) the Collector's Edition of Myst III:Exile. This baby
comes with the game, a "Making of Myst III"
CD, a soundtrack CD, a pewter "Squee" figurine,
and most importantly, the official strategy guide to
the game. Such genius! Not only do I have something
to help me finish the game before my deadline, but I
have a cheat guide that I have to use if I'm to properly
review the entire game (again, more on this later).
Maybe my life will survive Myst after all...
The Story
As I said before, the Myst series distinguishes itself
from others through it's remarkable storytelling, and
Exile hardly disappoints. You play the good friend of
Atrus, the man who has created all of the Myst worlds;
and your job will be to retrieve Releeshahn (the book
that links to his newest world) from Saavedro, the man
who was imprisoned for the past twenty years while Atrus'
sons Sirrus and Achenar worked to destroy their father's
creations (including Saavedro's home world, Narayan).
Myst and Riven detailed Atrus' struggle to right old
wrongs, and now in Exile, you must do the same for him.
It all sounds pretty convoluted to someone who hasn't
played the other games (almost like reading Tolkein's
Return of the King and then saying that the book
was confusing), but the "Historian's Journal"
in the enclosed strategy guide brought me up to speed.
Well-integrated cut scenes spaced throughout the game
also provide this information, and the end result is
an engrossing journey into a totally immersive universe.
You'll spend plenty of time in J'nanin, the lesson age,
where you learn the essential physics and philosophy
of the Myst universe. Then you'll travel through three
different ages (Voltaic, Amateria, and Edanna) as you
simultaneously track Saavedro down and learn the three
cardinal forces behind Narayan.
And this is where the story really comes together;
essential laws of physics, energy, and biology are woven
through the mythology of the game, lending it a depth
and realism that balances the organic-yet-alien visuals
throughout the adventure. Most modern adventure games
rely far too heavily on cheesy acting in distracting
cutscenes or stolid journal entries by the game's characters
to provide this backstory; and even though Exile has
its share of both (this Literature teacher wanted to
assault the Frodo-lovin', Tolkein wannabe responsible
for Atrus' journal), they're generally done well here.
The Visuals
Poring through old reviews of Riven led me to the conclusion
that many people were disappointed with the appearance
of the game. Fans felt that it visually failed to raise
the bar set by its predecessor, and it seems that the
folks at Presto
Studios were keenly aware of the criticism. In Exile,
they have created a fully three-dimensional world to
bustle about in, and the results are usually breathtaking.
The oceans of J'nanin reminded me of the view from my
parents' beachside condo on Hutchinson
Island, and the cavernous, skeletal construction
of the Voltaic age feels appropriately deserted and
massive. Everything you see seems strangely familiar
-- a paradox that the game's designers were clearly
shooting for.
The visual spell is occasionally broken when the player
must manipulate some part of the scenery. Just looking
at things you can touch occasionally makes you feel
like you're playing an older game (the best example
would by with Saavedro's desk at the base of the tower,
with it's "Look Here! Touch Me! I'm Important!"
games scattered across it). Thankfully, this situation
is quite rare. Very often, you can look away while you're
fiddling with an object, just like in real life. For
my money, Amateria is the most visually effective age.
The puzzles are the age, and as such, they rarely draw
you out of the gorgeous visuals around you. At one point,
you will even need to be part of the puzzle to solve
it, but that's bordering far too closely on a hint,
so I'll shut up.
Surprisingly, my least favorite world, visually-speaking,
was Edanna. I initially found the idea of an almost
totally organic puzzle environment fetching; but in
reality, it was just too frustrating. Aside from the
fact that this age contains the most difficult puzzles,
I often had trouble figuring out where I could even
walk. The visuals were generally way too dark for my
tastes, even when I tested the game on machines other
than my trusty TiBook (which is known for having issues
with lighting in games). Given the logic of the rest
of the game, I doubt that getting lost in the woods
was one of the problems that the player was supposed
to solve.
And speaking of lighting! This game uses light more
effectively than any other game I've played, of any
genre, on any platform. The light obscures and reveals
important game elements with a skill that would have
made Orson
Welles jealous.
I could provide you with a few snapshots from the
game on this page, but they wouldn't really do the game
justice. Just click this
link to Ubi Soft's Exile webpage and enjoy the free
screenshots. You'll see what I mean.
The Sounds
In addition to lighting, anyone looking to design a
solid game should consult Exile for its use of sound.
Sure, the music is wonderful and appropriate in tone,
volume, pitch, and rhythm virtually everywhere, but
it's the natural sound that's truly revolutionary in
Exile. This is the first game in a long while that I've
played with the sound up, partially because there are
puzzles that only make sense when you hear them, but
also because they're so varied and subtle. Almost every
step brings some delicate change in what you can hear,
effectively preventing that horrible point you hit in
most games where the sound and music become too repetitive,
leaving you leaping at the mute button.
Again, J'nanin and Amateria truly shine in this category.
The wind and waves whip around the tusks and echo off
the cliffs in J'nanin, and the sounds stay in your head
for hours after you quit the game. The distant storms
of Amateria are strangely soothing (which is good, because
a few of those puzzles can drive you absolutely mad!),
and they match the pinkish-red sunset all around. The
total effect was so compelling, so calming, I wanted
to have a summer home there. Really.
The only time that sound became a problem in the game
is during the cutscenes. The dialogue frequently lost
synch with the video, making some of the lines much
more painful. Fortunately, there are Myst III updates
you can download for both OS9 and OS X (the latter allowing
you to play Exile without using Classic), and
they pretty much resolve this issue (though the video
seemed just a bit fuzzier in OS X, I could simply be
bleary-eyed after spending so much time staring at my
laptop playing the game).
The Puzzles
The first question people ask about games like Exile
is "How difficult are the puzzles?"
It's a hard question to answer. Puzzles can be hard
in a good way, and in a bad way. Good puzzles should
have a solution that draws from both specific hints
in the game and from the general logic and feel of the
game. Most of the puzzles in Exile essentially follow
this rule, requiring knowledge from something you've
seen or read earlier in order to solve a problem later.
This usually works well in J'nanin, because finishing
those problems allows you to understand the logic behind
the game (which, in a complete environment like Exile,
can be difficult to nail down) so that you can apply
it to the increasingly tricky puzzles in the other ages.
Trial and error puzzles can be pretty entertaining,
too, but Exile give you too many of those. Some problems
have far too many possible solutions to allow this,
and the results of incorrect trials isn't as entertaining
or enlightening as it can be in other games (getting
the babelfish in the old Infocom Hitchikers game comes
to mind). Then again, one of the points of Exile seems
to be that everything is related, and that all actions
have far reaching effects. In such a remarkably causal
environment, trial and error is fairly inappropriate.
Likewise, one or two bad puzzles can destroy a game.
Number three on my all-time, game-killing puzzles list
is the game ending puzzle. Essentially, I hate that
end the game, or end your life while you're doing them.
Such puzzles tend to make more of a game out of well-timed
saves than the riddles themselves, and that's about
as fun as restoring your hard drive after it crashes.
If you didn't back up, you're toast, and if you did,
you get the thrill-a-minute-pleasure of reloading all
of your software. Congratulations, you finally saved
well!
Exile really doesn't do this. Until the Narayan age,
no action is irreversible, and timing is irrelevant.
This is sweet relief in an adventure game, and it gives
Exile one up on my beloved text adventures of yesteryear,
in which one wrong move would occasionally send you
into days of endless death. As I said, the last age
in Exile is an exception, so save often, if for no other
reason than to say all of the different ways you can
screw up hours of hard work.
Tedious puzzles come in at number two on my "Game-killing
puzzles" list, and those are rare in Exile. Even
with the lightning bolt option (which lets you quickly
skip to different parts of a map) engaged, some of the
puzzles in Edanna required far too much slogging through
swamps and tunneling through dark, hollow logs. I believe
there are a few more of these in the game, but I just
bumbled my way into the answer the first time and avoided
the heartache.
Number one with a bullet on my game-killing puzzle
list -- poor control. This happens when you do know
the solution, but you can't get the darn puzzle controls
to do what you want them to. This happened to me once
in Exile, and it took me over an hour to get one stupid
lever to rotate, and not slide. This wasn't one of the
game's mysteries, it was just a poorly-designed dongle
in an otherwise perfectly designed game system. My TiBook's
trackpad didn't make the situation better, either. Nevertheless,
it was just one, so I'll allow it.
Though the order of the puzzles themselves can be
important, you can visit the three main ages in any
order and still get to Narayan, but I'd save Edanna
for last, especially if you've really gotten stumped
on an earlier puzzle. Amateria also contains my favorite
puzzles, which do reward trial and error with a precious
ball that can crash in seemingly infinite ways. The
puzzles in Narayan are probably the easiest ones in
the entire game, but you'll need to seriously consider
the tone of the game in order to get the desired conclusion.
The Conclusion
Calm down, calm down! I'm not going to
tell you how the game ends.
When I told a close friend of mine that
I was reviewing Exile, he was surprised. He couldn't
figure out where I'd find the time in my busy life to
play any adventure game through to it's conclusion,
let alone a game with a reputation like this one. I
told him that I didn't intend to finish the game, but
to give people a sense if it was worth finishing.
Then he reminded me of Aztec Challenge.
This was a game from the Atari ST glory days, a game
with a fun mix of action and problem solving. It took
us weeks to finish the game, and when we killed the
final enemy, we couldn't wait to see how this clever
game would end. Then we saw the ending:
CONGRADULATIONS!!!!
I don't know if it was the misspelling,
the use of the caps lock key, or the extra exclamation
points that made the game designers think this was an
adequate payoff, but I certainly knew it wasn't good
enough for me. I wished someone would have told me that
the ending was so bad -- I could have spent the time
better at the pool, or canoeing, or picking
my feet in Poughkeepsie. Anything would have been
better.
So, with the benefit of my friend's suggestion,
I finished the game, and I must say, I think you'll
be satisfied. Each age ends dramatically and lyrically,
and the possible conclusions to Narayan should surprise
you. Though the conclusion to the Voltaic age is probably
the most poetic puzzle solution in any game, ever, I
once again favor the end of Amateria. It doesn't surprise
you at all, and yet it's so utterly satisfying to see
all of your hard work pay off.
Of course, there's virtually no replay
value with this game, but finishing Exile leaves you
wanting more, and that's the best endorsement any adventure
game could have.
The Collector's Edition Extras
Here's a quick review of what you get
for your extra cash:
Prima's Official Strategy Guide:
Myst III: Exile
Useful enough, because I couldn't have met my deadline
without it, this is the best extra in this addition.
It includes a walkthrough, but the "soft hints"
are much better, as they prevent you from learning more
than you need to know. Sometimes you just need reassurance
that you're on the right track (like when you spend
an hour fiddling with a stupid lever!), and at other
times you may decide that a puzzle isn't fun enough
to warrant ten hours worth of solution time. All of
the solutions are accompanied by a decent sense of humor,
and they're usually provided in clear, simple language.
The guide also includes maps, the complete text of Artrus'
journal (not because it's Nobel material, but so that
you don't have to stop what you're doing in the game
to read it), a History of Narayan (interesting and useful,
but it can spoil the game if you're not careful).
The Making of Myst III: Exile CD-ROM
Just pop this CD into your drive, fire up Internet Explorer,
and witness a special, 22 minute "Making of "
movie, as well as trailers that were supposedly shown
on TV and in Theaters. The "making of" film
is the real star here, though it doesn't reveal many
interesting facts (I figured they used 3D modeling software
and bluescreens, as most of you probably will). The
film's playback was almost unwatchable on my TiBook,
as it jerked horribly and lapsed out of synch with the
sound for the duration of the piece. Strangely enough,
installing the updaters seemed to slightly improve the
audio (which makes little sense, since the entire CD-ROM
is essentially a series of QuickTime movies with a custom
interface), but the end result is still painfully clunky.
Given the weakness of the content here, I don't consider
the audio problems a deal-breaker.
The Soundtrack
Okay, okay, this game's music is a true accomplishment,
but I won't be playing it on my iPod while I'm jogging
anytime soon. This must be ultra-fan only material.
The Pewter Squee
What's a Squee, you ask? Play the game! I wasn't impressed
with the little figurine until I played Exile, and now
he's on my desk at work, calming me down on stressful
days.
The Numbered Box
If you don't want to keep the Squee when you're done
with Exile, you can make your dreams of outrageous Ebay
auction sales come true with this feature!
The Verdict
If you have even the slightest love of
adventure games, and your life situation can withstand
it, you should get Myst III: Exile. If you've never
played an adventure game before (not even Myst or Riven),
I can personally attest that you'll still enjoy the
game immensely.
As for the Collector's Edition, I'd say
that the strategy guide is the key. If you think you'll
use it even a few times, pony up the extra cash. If
not, you should just get the standard game and settle
for trying to steal the pewter Squee from someone else's
desk at work.
But before you do, ask yourself: What
Would Atrus Do?
Brilliant storytelling, beautiful visuals, breathtaking
sounds, challenging (yet sensible) puzzles, great
ending, included strategy guide and pewter "Squee!"
Misses
Some choppy audio, some lousy puzzles, no replay
value, some scenes too dark.
Rating
(5 possible)
Requirements
233 MHz G3 or faster, MacOS 8.1 or higher, 64
MB RAM, 200 MB Available HD Space, 4x CD-ROM min.,
640x480 display, thousands of colors, Supports Optional
3D Hardware Acceleration, QuickTime 4 or higher.
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