darwinia: perceived brilliance

I wanted to like Darwinia.

I wanted to be able to support independent games that use the incredibly convenient and industry-shattering product distribution model that is Steam. I wanted to immerse myself in a world that was obviously crafted by game designers with their own vision of a well-worn genre. I wanted to fall in love with the abstract shapes and minimalist environments that cleverly integrate an extremely simple, but involving gameplay mechanic. However, as every pessimistic gamer knows, hype is hard to live up to. In fact, when the game is the recipient of the grand prize at the Independent Games Festival, it can be downright antagonizing.

I suppose I'm opening myself up to criticism for only reviewing the demo, but I have always been of the mindset that a well-crafted demo should make you want to buy the game. That's the point of them, right? They're interactive commercials, giving you a taste of the game's potential and urging you to take the plunge. If a demo fails to convince me of the game's merits, then there is no reason to pursue it. The demo for Darwinia failed to grip me back in December. And as the IGF awards came and went complete with backlash in tow, I tried it again. I hate second-guessing myself.

The introductory tutorial began by panning across a polygonal landscape tainted by the infection of a virus. A mob of green stick-men is shown circling around a giant rocket. These were the Darwinians. The red stick-men nearby were obviously evil - they were killing the Darwinians. The rocket had to launch. But it failed. I felt pity for these poor Darwinians - how were they ever going to get away? Explaining the history of this new world was a talking head that looked a lot like my high school algebra teacher. Navigating around the landscape I felt like I was playing a game on the front cover of Radiohead's Kid A. This game was an anomaly; I immediately warmed to the aesthetic presented. The abstract visuals, the pretensiously arty low-tech graphics that looked 20 years old - it all seemed to come together in a deliciously geeky package. This was a game that ached to advance the art form. I had not yet begun to play.

The game's interface consists of a task manager, much like you would find in any computer's operating system. It suited Darwinia's theme perfectly. The Darwinians are simply sentient programs inside a giant computer; the meta-map showing connections to thousands of other "world nodes" being the most fascinating part of the entire game. The previously used gesture system was thankfully scrapped in favor of a more palatable icon-based system, which when selected, will "build" the unit by running a program. You're limited to a number of task slots at first, introducing an element of strategy through unit management. In order to assist the Darwinians, you must rid the landscape of evil virii. You must control points on the map to transport units and convert the souls of the slain. You must use various unit upgrades to corral the Darwinians into saving themselves. You are their only hope.

I wanted to save the Darwinians. I wanted to like the game.

But Darwinia's shortcomings become painfully apparent once I started actually doing things. By far the largest complaint was a lack of pathfinding that resembles any form of logic. Yes, these are programs looking for commands from a higher power. But Dr. Sepulveda, the creator of Darwinia, tells me they were programmed with a kind of "free will" that allows them to make their own choices. So wouldn't that include navigating around a building or at the very least, not stopping in random places? The amount of hand-holding I had to do for the simplest of tasks was infuriating. The enemies are mostly stationary, seemingly travelling a set pathway and are little more than obstacles to overcome. The strategies become overly simplistic as a result, like it was more puzzle than real time strategy. But maybe that was the point. It just isn't made very clear.

I appreciate the original approach to a well-worn genre, but Darwinia is a concept in dire need of refinement. Had it been received through traditional means (i.e. a Big Evil Publisher), would the criticism have been less forgiving? Would Darwinia have had more direction? I suppose it's well and good to support independent games, but inflating Darwinia's importance only opens it up to more criticism, exposing the game for what it really is: An original concept that sets out to destroy convention by creating an experience that's as inarticulate as it is different.

Introversion recently partnered with Cinemaware Marquee for the boxed distribution of Darwinia throughout stores in North America. While I can understand the need to share their artistic vision with a wider audience now that they are certified "award winning" developers, are these really the methods of the starry-eyed iconoclasts that didn't want a publisher "fucking up" their game? I'm just asking.