I firished Creature Kitchen (The Rat Zone) today. Once I was done with it, I went back and 100%ed it. I did look up where a few ingredients were and one recipe, but other than that, it was pretty easy. I was able to get most of the achievements while playing the game, which is how I ilke to do it. I don’t like having to grind for a meaningless achievement. (Looking at you, FromSoft and the ten hours it took for me to get that certain achievement in DS III, and that was a short amount time compared to many others).
The achievements in this game were for the most part reasonable. There was one that was kinda ridiculous, but, fortunately, it was fairly easy to do. Just tedious. I get why it was included (thematically appropriate), but it didn’t add anything to the experience.
Here’s my post from yesterday in which I talked about how much I liked the game and mentioned a few minor frustrations I had with it. I have much more to say about it, starting with my puzzlement that it’s repeatedly been called creepy.
Honestly, I don’t get it. I have seen it said over and over again that this is a creepy game, and it simply is not. It just isn’t. This is the hill I will die on with this game. I don’t see even a whiff of creepiness/scariness. Am I the one who is wrong? Probably. Or rather, I’m probably in the minority as I usually am. I will say that I’m starting to feel a tad bit gaslit about this because I don’t see it at all.
Normally, I can at least get a glimpse of why people feel the way they do, but I don’t see it at all in this game. I see cute. I see cozy. I see crunchy pixel graphics. I see charming. I see, yes, creatures. I do NOT see creepy. I do wonder if I’m being punked. Is thisĀ kind of a long con where everyone is in on it?
Setting that aside with difficulty, the game kept me engaged until the very end. Without any spoilers, I felt like it was giving me a big hug, and I smiled a genuine smile of warmth and appreciation as the credits rolled.
The story was simple and sincere. I was wondering if there was going to be a twist, and there wasn’t. Not really, anyway. I’m going to put a spoiler tag on this, but it’s not really a spoiler. I’d rather be safe than sorry, though. I tend to err on the side of being spoiler tag heavy.
In the Discord I’m in, there’s an ongoing debate about spoiler tags and when they should be used. My thing is that it doesn’t hurt to slap a spoiler tag on something, so why not? There are times, though, that it looks we’re writing confidential FBI docs.
*SPOILERS*
I really like that the game had a very decided idea of what they wanted to do, and they stuck to it. Games tend to be huge in scope now, and while I can appreciate a meaty song with several deep themes, I also like a five-to-seven hour game (this took me seven hours, but could be finished in probably half that time) that is cozy and comforting. (I would not mind if it was creepy, either, but it was not. Yes, I have to state that once again.)
The spoiler tag is because at the end of the game, it goes from feeding actual animals to feeding creatures that weren’t of this world. Again, I’m not going to get specific because that’s something that you should experience for yourself.
This game reminded me that short and sweet can be just as satisfying as long and intense. This is such a chill game that is just a delight. Find the recipes and ingredients, make the dishes, feed the critters, Rinse, lather, repeat. There are some simple puzzles that aren’t hard to solve, but they scratch the itch of solving a puzzle, which is always satisfying.
In the beginning, there are several locked doors, and you get one key and a note. The unlocked door leads to the pantry. The note gives you a bare bones explanation of the situation. It’s funny how it doesn’t really tell you anything, but things are clear, anyway. I don’t know how to explain it, really. The outright storytelling was nonexistent, but there were environmental cues (including short notes) that let me know what was going on.
It’s funny. There was a thread of melancholy that ran through the game, at least to me there was. It sa subtle, so I’m not sure it was meant to be that way or if I was just reading something into the subtext that wasn’t there.
To me, the game was speaking on friendship, family, love, and loss. We love who we love while we’re able to love them, and then we let them go when it’s time to let them go. Admittedly, that’s me putting my spin on my experience, but that’s the beauty of art. It’s up to the viewer to experience it however they can/want/feel.
I think The Rat Zone would be pleased with my interpretation. Or at least touched by it. They obviously put so much heart into their game, and it’s a very small team. On their website, they have themselves listed as rats. It’s very cute and funny. There are five (or six, depending on how you read a joke they put in the bios) of them, and you can tell that they put all of themselves into the game.
I keep saying it, but the game has so much heart. I love indie games that show off their personalities so clearly. They had a vision, and they stuck to it. This is another thing I really love with small indie teams. They just go for it without a million shareholders telling them divisive opinions on how to make it bland and palatable for the masses.
One of my favorite things in the game is that there’s a gang of rats/mice? that I can keep feeding cheese. It starts out with one, then two, then a whole family of them. It’s clearly a nod to the dev team, and I am here for it. Not surprisingly, there is no cat in the game–but there is the bestest doggo in it.
What I really like about small indie games is that they are quirky. As I said, it’s because there’s no one committeeing their games to death. Somewhere along the way in many AAA games, all the rough edges get sanded off and what you get is booooooring.
Just to be clear: I’m not saying this is specific to video games, by the way. It’s in all pop culture, which is why I don’t like so much of it. In addition, because my brain is broken, things that appeal to the masses don’t usually appeal to me.
For example. There is this little game that is coming out in November. You may have heard of it: It’s Grand Theft Auto VI (Rockstar Games). It’s a little game by an up-and-coming developer–ok. I can’t even joke about it.
It’s huge. It’s going to be probably the best-selling video game ever. It’s so highly anticipated, there isn’t another developer who dares release a game in the month of November. So many devs moved their release dates because they did not want to go up against the juggernaut that is the first GTA to be released in thirteen years.
The debates in the gaming-osphere about the price have raged on and on (and believe me, I will be posting a screed about it at some point). The base game is going to be $80 and the deluxe edition is an eye-watering $100. And you know what? Despite all the complaining people are doing, they are going to fork over the money. Willingly!
(Restrains self with difficulty.)
Anyway. I love this game. A lot.
I paid $7.99 for it (and it’s 20% off now: $6.39), and I played it for roughly eight hours. I don’t usually do the dollar per hour conversion, but if you do, then that’s a buck per minute. And, look. That’s not really fair. I’m sure people who love GTA games will get hundreds of hours of enjoyment out of it. I paid…seventy? I want to say? bucks for Elden Ring. Nope! It’s was $59.99. A steal! I’ve put over a thousand hours into the game. So, yes. I don’t put much faith in the dollar per hour debate.
The thing, though, is that I’m much more willing to give an under ten dollars game a chance, and I’m more forgiving when it’s done by less than ten people (for exxample).
I’m wrapping this up for tonight. I’ll probably write one more post about it tomorrow (the game, or indies v. AAA games in general).