thernz, on 07 February 2012 - 06:49 AM, said:
It's pretty odd how Skyward and other games hold your hand in such an obtrusive way when there are plenty of older games that let the player learn just by way of good level design. I'm not sure why that came about despite attempts to focus on a broader market. I don't think any one really likes being fed instructions.
The irony of it all is that nintendo pioneered that school of design. The first Mario Bros. is widely acclaimed for how accessible it is, teaching the player everything they need to know through the first level. Decades later, Mario Galaxy shows us that cute, fuzzy animals can also teach us how to play, via an endless bombardment of text bubbles, telling us to "PRESS A TO SWIM", which takes up precious real estate from our TVs. Skyward Sword is worse in that regard, because not only is your traveling companion one of these stupid animals, she's also capable of pausing the game, at a whim, to give you a good dose of empty verbiage. And because the game is constantly introducing new ideas, she's always providing the player with an endless amount of instructions.
Conn, on 07 February 2012 - 06:56 AM, said:
The thing that's bizarre about Skyward Sword is it still follows all the typical Zelda tells— you know, stuff like having the Boss Door and Boss Chest look really ornate and important, or just having the camera pan around to introduce an area— but still has Fi mention these things anyway. It's sort of offensive in the way it talks down to players!
YES! The game goes to great lengths to insure that the player understands every minute detail, no matter how condescending or redundant these measures may be. For instance, Fi will happily remind us to recover more health whenever the player is down to three hearts, because of course, that annoying chime wasn't already enough. Also, if the game is restarted shortly after learning the dowsing ability, Fi will say something along the lines of, "Master! I REQUIRE confirmation on whether or not you understand how dowsing functions!"
Oddly enough, Fi is but one instrument the game uses to impede progress. Another involves the signature Zelda jingle, which is heard whenever a discovery is made. In past games, it was just a harmless pat on the back, but here, the game uses it to kill any momentum. Throw a bomb at a cracked wall or a rock, and watch as the game pauses, pans the camera at rubble for a few seconds -- so you can stare at it, presumably -- then plays the jingle. Only after the jingle is heard will the game relinquish control back to the player. This happens again and again, regardless of how many walls or rocks you've already destroyed. What's puzzling is the motive behind this design choice. The player already knows what will happen to the cracked wall or rock when a bomb is thrown at it. It's what prompted the player to throw the bomb to begin with. So why do the designers feel the need to stop the game and show the player the end result? Incidentally, this intrusive pause isn't exclusive to just blowing away rocks, but also pulling levers, switches and solving other puzzles.
The award for the most insufferable feature of game still goes to the collectible treasures. Not only will the game pause and give you a useless description upon collecting a treasure, but it also makes an effort to bring up the item screen and have the treasure appear in it's respective slot. This happens again with the same treasure if you restart the game. After all, knowing exactly where these treasures go is top priority! Towards the end of the game, I found myself in a small, dark room, surrounded by a mob of enemies, and dying, no less. I decided to throw myself into the mob and hope for the best, when suddenly-- "You got a
Golden Skull! A real rarity among skull ornamen".