Primal
SCEE Cambridge's demonic adventure epic has finally hit shelves. The verdict inside.
Published: April 4, 2003
Primal is, in many ways, a perfect example of what familiarity with hardware, ample time spent in development, and a strong cast can offer in the way of interactive entertainment. It's also a shining example of what happens when a game is pushed out just a bit to early to catch some glaring bugs that could for many end the gaming experience before it ever has a chance to take hold. It's this interesting balance of digital beauty of ugliness, of order and chaos – the very elements the game is based upon – that makes Primal such a mixed package.
But let's start with the good.
Primal is the story of Jen, a self-described coffee shop girl that has a rather eventful encounter with a tall, dark and ugly fella that kidnaps her boyfriend after a show with his band, leaving Jen bed-ridden in a hospital and seemingly comatose. It turns out that after a meeting with Scree, a pint-sized gargoyle that leads Jen to the demon realm called Oblivion, that there's plenty more to this coffee shop girl with a penchant for slightly occultist tattoo art and goth electro-rock than meets the eye.
Jen is led to the Nexus, a convergence point of the four major realms of the demon world of Oblivion – two aligned with order, the other two with chaos. This balance keeps things all honky-dory in ideal conditions, but it seems Abaddon, the lord of chaos, feels the need to upset this balance, and has sent forth minions to disrupt the balance to tip the scales of power in his favor. Of course, doing so is a big no-no when it comes to maintaining that whole fabric of reality thing, and that's why Jen's been called upon to make things right.
See, it turns out Jen's special. I can't say HOW special (okay, I can; she's a hybrid of demon and human), but more specifically it means Jen can channel the forms of the denizens of each of the worlds she enters to better fit into the surroundings and gain each race's powers. This can mean something as simple as jumping higher or as complex as slowing down the flow of time, and each are necessary to help accomplish the heavy task of restoring balance.
Primal isn't so much an action game as an adventure game with action elements told through a wealth of cutscenes. In fact, it could be argued that Primal is even more cutscene-reliant that a certain RPG from Namco, especially since it feels like you're just running from one event to the next with some fighting in-between (it's actually rather hard to even get lost, since a press of the triangle button will offer a semi-obvious hint from Scree), and a quick look at the map tells you exactly where you need to go next).
That's not to say the game is shallow; the combat system is a little tough to first understand and use beyond button mashing but ultimately quite deep, and the puzzle-solving elements are some of the best that've been seen since Tomb Raider 2, but the game is very, very linear in nature. These two elements, combat and puzzle solving make up the bulk of your experience with a few interesting (and rather inventive) boss battles at the end of each realm to mix things up. Jen does most of the fighting, but that doesn't mean she's relegated to dishing out all the beat-downs. Scree can possess stone statues and bring them to life, sometimes to deliver a little hurt himself, and it's the random swap-outs of these primary roles (Jen on combat, Scree on puzzles), that keeps the game fresh. Quite a few of the puzzles had me stumped for a while, forcing me to put the game down and come back when I had a fresher face, something I definitely enjoyed.
But Primal's core design is hardly perfect. Some of the boss battles, while quite easy, can be tough to decode as far as what you need to do. The final boss fight is a marathon of sorts that had be tossing the controller a couple times until I finally committed myself to figuring out what the hell I was supposed to do. There are also instances where AI freaks out, or odd pauses where you can't move your character while a comment or animation is streamed off the disc, or times when you simply can't get an action to trigger for seemingly no reason.
And then there were the lovely multiple instances of dropping out into a skybox (all architecture disappeared and I was left with just the background image that's wrapped around the whole level), once with each character, and once simply by walking up to a wall. The first time this happened, I tried saving and resetting the PS2, but it saved the skyboxed character as well. If for some reason someone happened to save over their only savegame, they'd have to start over from scratch. Clipping issues that result in skyboxes are something that should be caught by QA long before the game ships, and it was utterly frustrating to see a game that otherwise felt very polished end up as such.
But polished is indeed a term that can be ladled over the graphical presentation. Aside from some choppiness on some of the more polygon-heavy parts of the game, everything is relatively smooth and completely, jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Despite being rather bored by the story (and its subsequent flat, open ending), I couldn't help but play more to see what the next world looked like. While Oblivion's worlds are cookie-cutter in theme (lands of eternal night/snow, water, mountains, volcanoes), the actual designs are anything but.
While Solum, the first world, was rather pedestrian in design (though it did sport a wonderfully Norse feel), each successive realm was increasingly more ornate and breathtaking. Aquis, the second world you'll visit, is among the most richly believable aquatic domains ever seen in a video game, with a mind-bogglingly huge amount of bubble particles used throughout the world. Aetha, Oblivion's third realm feels torn straight from a Transylvanian mountainside with heavy Victorian and Bavarian themes populating everything from the buldings to the people. The final world, Volca, takes place in the crater of a volcano and boast some incredible vertical architecture that blends elements of Egyptian, Mayan and Indian cultures and design into a wholly engrossing feast for the eyes.
Best of all, Primal is thick with high-res textures, and aside from the occasional loading pop-in, it's all conveyed with ample sweeping vistas and lush, organic landscapes. No one realm borrows influences from any one part of the world, but you'd swear they existed somewhere on the planet, and yet they still feel slightly alien and cold. Not outright evil, but certainly not welcoming either. It's a testament to the artists and designers' skill that Primal looks so damned good.
It also ranks among the best sounding games on the PS2, mainly due to the extensive voice work performed by Hudson Leick and Andreas Katsulas, who absolutely nailed their respective parts of Jen and Scree and brought the characters to life in a way I hadn't seen in games before. It's hard to describe, but the report between the two, coupled with some incredibly smart dialogue, kept the game very, very interesting. The supporting cast didn't slack off either, but it's really Hudson and Andreas' work that helped the game feel so tightly produced. I don't think there was a single line that wasn't delivered perfectly. It really was that good.
However, whereas Scree and Jen's lines were clear as day, some of the other actors, including Jen's boyfriend Lewis in a supposedly touching scene, we often completely overpowered by the music or effects. It wasn't that the effects or music (more on that in a moment) were loud, more that the voices were too soft. It was annoying since I usually didn't need the subtitles on for the main characters, and there was no way to know when the low voices would occur.
I mentioned the music, and it's an interesting mix, because most of the game has an absolutely in-freakin-credible orchestrated soundtrack that was composed by U.K. uberduo Bob & Barn and performed by the Prague Symphonic Orchestra, and absolutely slips right into the game, at once supporting the visuals and becoming a bit of a character on its own. It's absolutely incredible stuff, and, lucky me, a soundtrack is on the way in the next few months. I'll doubtlessly be playing it non-stop whenever I have to write anything. On the other end of the spectrum is LA electro-rock group 16 Volt, who provided instrumental versions of some of their songs (a couple were written just for the game) during the combat scenes. While I didn't dig on the vocal-laced versions of the songs, I was amazed how well the instrumental versions fit the combat. It was very, very fitting and quite well done.
Much of Primal is well done. Its funky bugs, ho-hum core plot and flat, unrewarding ending keep me from recommending it to everyone, but the amazing graphics, unrelentingly sharp dialogue and fantastic score keep it high enough that I can say it's a definite rental. The extras you unlock as you complete each realm are a nice look into the making of the game, and the 20-25 hours or so of gameplay give you plenty to digest, but at $40, the end result falls just a bit too short of a buy recommendation. If you see it for $20 or so cheaper any time soon, snap it up; there's plenty to enjoy here once you've scooted past a couple potential pitfalls.
But let's start with the good.
Primal is the story of Jen, a self-described coffee shop girl that has a rather eventful encounter with a tall, dark and ugly fella that kidnaps her boyfriend after a show with his band, leaving Jen bed-ridden in a hospital and seemingly comatose. It turns out that after a meeting with Scree, a pint-sized gargoyle that leads Jen to the demon realm called Oblivion, that there's plenty more to this coffee shop girl with a penchant for slightly occultist tattoo art and goth electro-rock than meets the eye.
Jen is led to the Nexus, a convergence point of the four major realms of the demon world of Oblivion – two aligned with order, the other two with chaos. This balance keeps things all honky-dory in ideal conditions, but it seems Abaddon, the lord of chaos, feels the need to upset this balance, and has sent forth minions to disrupt the balance to tip the scales of power in his favor. Of course, doing so is a big no-no when it comes to maintaining that whole fabric of reality thing, and that's why Jen's been called upon to make things right.
See, it turns out Jen's special. I can't say HOW special (okay, I can; she's a hybrid of demon and human), but more specifically it means Jen can channel the forms of the denizens of each of the worlds she enters to better fit into the surroundings and gain each race's powers. This can mean something as simple as jumping higher or as complex as slowing down the flow of time, and each are necessary to help accomplish the heavy task of restoring balance.
Primal isn't so much an action game as an adventure game with action elements told through a wealth of cutscenes. In fact, it could be argued that Primal is even more cutscene-reliant that a certain RPG from Namco, especially since it feels like you're just running from one event to the next with some fighting in-between (it's actually rather hard to even get lost, since a press of the triangle button will offer a semi-obvious hint from Scree), and a quick look at the map tells you exactly where you need to go next).
That's not to say the game is shallow; the combat system is a little tough to first understand and use beyond button mashing but ultimately quite deep, and the puzzle-solving elements are some of the best that've been seen since Tomb Raider 2, but the game is very, very linear in nature. These two elements, combat and puzzle solving make up the bulk of your experience with a few interesting (and rather inventive) boss battles at the end of each realm to mix things up. Jen does most of the fighting, but that doesn't mean she's relegated to dishing out all the beat-downs. Scree can possess stone statues and bring them to life, sometimes to deliver a little hurt himself, and it's the random swap-outs of these primary roles (Jen on combat, Scree on puzzles), that keeps the game fresh. Quite a few of the puzzles had me stumped for a while, forcing me to put the game down and come back when I had a fresher face, something I definitely enjoyed.
But Primal's core design is hardly perfect. Some of the boss battles, while quite easy, can be tough to decode as far as what you need to do. The final boss fight is a marathon of sorts that had be tossing the controller a couple times until I finally committed myself to figuring out what the hell I was supposed to do. There are also instances where AI freaks out, or odd pauses where you can't move your character while a comment or animation is streamed off the disc, or times when you simply can't get an action to trigger for seemingly no reason.
And then there were the lovely multiple instances of dropping out into a skybox (all architecture disappeared and I was left with just the background image that's wrapped around the whole level), once with each character, and once simply by walking up to a wall. The first time this happened, I tried saving and resetting the PS2, but it saved the skyboxed character as well. If for some reason someone happened to save over their only savegame, they'd have to start over from scratch. Clipping issues that result in skyboxes are something that should be caught by QA long before the game ships, and it was utterly frustrating to see a game that otherwise felt very polished end up as such.
But polished is indeed a term that can be ladled over the graphical presentation. Aside from some choppiness on some of the more polygon-heavy parts of the game, everything is relatively smooth and completely, jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Despite being rather bored by the story (and its subsequent flat, open ending), I couldn't help but play more to see what the next world looked like. While Oblivion's worlds are cookie-cutter in theme (lands of eternal night/snow, water, mountains, volcanoes), the actual designs are anything but.
While Solum, the first world, was rather pedestrian in design (though it did sport a wonderfully Norse feel), each successive realm was increasingly more ornate and breathtaking. Aquis, the second world you'll visit, is among the most richly believable aquatic domains ever seen in a video game, with a mind-bogglingly huge amount of bubble particles used throughout the world. Aetha, Oblivion's third realm feels torn straight from a Transylvanian mountainside with heavy Victorian and Bavarian themes populating everything from the buldings to the people. The final world, Volca, takes place in the crater of a volcano and boast some incredible vertical architecture that blends elements of Egyptian, Mayan and Indian cultures and design into a wholly engrossing feast for the eyes.
Best of all, Primal is thick with high-res textures, and aside from the occasional loading pop-in, it's all conveyed with ample sweeping vistas and lush, organic landscapes. No one realm borrows influences from any one part of the world, but you'd swear they existed somewhere on the planet, and yet they still feel slightly alien and cold. Not outright evil, but certainly not welcoming either. It's a testament to the artists and designers' skill that Primal looks so damned good.
It also ranks among the best sounding games on the PS2, mainly due to the extensive voice work performed by Hudson Leick and Andreas Katsulas, who absolutely nailed their respective parts of Jen and Scree and brought the characters to life in a way I hadn't seen in games before. It's hard to describe, but the report between the two, coupled with some incredibly smart dialogue, kept the game very, very interesting. The supporting cast didn't slack off either, but it's really Hudson and Andreas' work that helped the game feel so tightly produced. I don't think there was a single line that wasn't delivered perfectly. It really was that good.
However, whereas Scree and Jen's lines were clear as day, some of the other actors, including Jen's boyfriend Lewis in a supposedly touching scene, we often completely overpowered by the music or effects. It wasn't that the effects or music (more on that in a moment) were loud, more that the voices were too soft. It was annoying since I usually didn't need the subtitles on for the main characters, and there was no way to know when the low voices would occur.
I mentioned the music, and it's an interesting mix, because most of the game has an absolutely in-freakin-credible orchestrated soundtrack that was composed by U.K. uberduo Bob & Barn and performed by the Prague Symphonic Orchestra, and absolutely slips right into the game, at once supporting the visuals and becoming a bit of a character on its own. It's absolutely incredible stuff, and, lucky me, a soundtrack is on the way in the next few months. I'll doubtlessly be playing it non-stop whenever I have to write anything. On the other end of the spectrum is LA electro-rock group 16 Volt, who provided instrumental versions of some of their songs (a couple were written just for the game) during the combat scenes. While I didn't dig on the vocal-laced versions of the songs, I was amazed how well the instrumental versions fit the combat. It was very, very fitting and quite well done.
Much of Primal is well done. Its funky bugs, ho-hum core plot and flat, unrewarding ending keep me from recommending it to everyone, but the amazing graphics, unrelentingly sharp dialogue and fantastic score keep it high enough that I can say it's a definite rental. The extras you unlock as you complete each realm are a nice look into the making of the game, and the 20-25 hours or so of gameplay give you plenty to digest, but at $40, the end result falls just a bit too short of a buy recommendation. If you see it for $20 or so cheaper any time soon, snap it up; there's plenty to enjoy here once you've scooted past a couple potential pitfalls.
