It’s a rough world out there. Review

It’s a rough world out there.

You think your life sucks? That day after day you get pounded with disaster after

disaster? It can’t be that bad. At least you haven’t been shrunk to the

size of a insect. And hey, at least you haven’t been forced to save an alien mother

ship from an all-out naval attack. Most of all, at least your teddy bear hasn’t

attacked any major cities today.

Maybe your life doesn’t look so bad anymore. So let’s laugh at the people

whose lives do suck, like the family in Incredible Crisis.

Incredible Crisis is sort of a non-game. Sure, it has all the auspices

of being a game; you push buttons and there are images sent to your screen.

But it isn’t truly interactive. Incredible Crisis is more like a crack-addled

TV show out of Japan, with mini-games at major points in the story. The mini-games

run the gamut of every mini-game ever created, but the sum of these parts don’t

quite equal a full game.

It’s grandma Hatsu’s birthday, and to celebrate, Mama Etsuko has promised

to make a special dinner. The whole family promises to get home early. Ririka,

the daughter, is planning on ditching school to drop by the shopping mall. Tsuyoshi,

the son, will just kick it in the backyard. And Daddy Taneo just has to get

through work. Seems like your average nuclear family. But the only thing nuclear

here are the explosions and carnage that will happen to this unlucky, unassuming

household over the course of this truly bizarre day.

Taneo is the big star of the game. He starts his day at his “salary-man” job.

Life is boring. Outside his building, a helicopter is placing the finishing

touches on an Atlas style sculpture. All that remains is placing the giant marble

sphere of the world into place. Kisama! (Japanese for basically: “oh crap!”)

The wire holding the ball snapped! Waaah! The sphere has crashed through the

window!

A la Indiana Jones, this big globe chases Taneo through a variety of

hilarious situations. Continuously and unrelenting, the sphere seeks but to

smash Taneo into a pancake. What does it all mean? Perhaps the greater implication

is a metaphor for how the world threatens to keep Taneo down, smashing his hopes

and dreams. Or maybe it’s just funny to watch Taneo wide mouthed and crying

like a little baby. Taneo’s a Japanese Homer Simpson, and I love him.

Much of the charm and feel of the game owes itself to how much Japanese culture

flows through its veins. Maybe it’s the way this family handles adversity so

optimistically. Or maybe it’s all the little Japanese outcries and sayings,

like “Lucky!” with the heavy accent. Or maybe it’s the way Taneo cries like

a little baby. Whatever the reason, Incredible Crisis is incredibly endearing

and a crack-up to boot.

The

personality of Incredible Crisis is established by the kicking musical

score. Get this – Japanese ska. Seriously! And it sounds great. The main theme

of the game is an upbeat ska rhythm, intermixed with Japanese phrases shouted

out. It’s catchy and fun. Though not all of the music is ska; some of it takes

a more classical or jazzy bent, but as a whole, the music works well with the

charm of the game.

But now we come to the problem spot. From mini-game to mini-game you go, just

to find out what happens next. The mini-games aren’t deep enough. You’ve got

Taneo doing a dance routine like Bust-A-Groove.

Etsuko is forced to play music accompanied by wolf-mask wearing bank robbers

much like Beatmania. And loads of mini-games, from emptying out a sinking

boat to running away from the globe of death, involve little more than wily

button mashing similar to games from the Track and Field genre.

Furthermore, the continue system starts out on the difficult side. You are

given limited continues, and if you lose them all, its “Game over, man.” But

once you get over that initial hitch of the first few levels, you’ll be able

to save and continue from your saves. After you complete each set of mini-games,

you are graded for your work. The better your grades, the more additional continues

you can earn.

Still, Incredible Crisis is just mini-game after mini-game, like the

horribly boring Mario Party. The

only compelling reason to play through them is to get to the next part of the

bizarre story. But after you’re all done, there’s no strong reason to play it

again, except for showing your friends Taneo and his wacky antics.

How can I describe Incredible Crisis? Wack? Yeah, that it. Wack…but

not in the bad sense. After all, Incredible Crisis has taught me so many

important lessons for my own life. Morals like “Steal not the Golden Pig or

else it’ll try to bring about apocalypse” or “Take alien UFOs to karaoke.” If

only there was more game underneath, then all would be well. As it stands, Incredible

Crisis is a rental only (though it sells for a very affordable 20 bucks),

not so much to play as to watch for its pure craziness. Sugoi!