Review By

Gene Park 8.0 RATING

Otogi: Myth Of Demons is a very quiet game. Despite its primary function as an action game, Otogi barely has anything that might be considered loud or exaggerated. When enemies die, they disappear in whiffs of energy dust. When Raikoh, the silent demon hunter, lands after a 50-foot drop, he touches the ground with the delicacy of silk. Once a main antagonist is defeated, their death speeches, filled with calm prose, may be melodramatic, but never hysterical. Then there's the music—mournful requiems with traditional Japanese strings and percussion to contrast the violence and hectic movement on screen.

Otogi may be quiet, but there's a lot going on in From Software's latest release. Raikoh is best described as a Japanese grim reaper; his job description is closer to Neil Gaiman's Death character than anything else. Raikoh, with his flowing, black hair longer than his sword, is given great power by the faceless Princess and is charged with dealing death to countless demons, each of them wreaking havoc for some vague purpose. The title comes from the Japanese word otogibanashi, which means fairy tale. Far from being the latest Tom Clancy thriller, the pieces in this game's plot won't always fit, and are not meant to. Otogi evokes the dreamy traits of children's stories and myths, where monsters disappear like figments of imagination and the hero plays his role without question.

Raikoh's tale comes alive through a mix of action and role-playing elements, and like any good fairy tale, the results are engaging as well as familiar. The combat-focused engine consists of light and heavy slash attacks, as well as a magic attack that can be either mixed into combos or cast on their own. Raikoh's defensive abilities are limited, having only a dash and the ability to repel projectiles with your sword. Dashing in the air allows Raikoh to stay airborne, and attacking during a dash will help him ascend to the skies. Since many of the game's enemies are airborne, some inertial, it quickly becomes apparent that dashing is key to playing the game. Raikoh's double jump, one of the most elegant I've ever seen, adds more weight to the player's focus on defying gravity, something that matters little in dreams and fairy tales.

What's most intriguing about the gameplay elements is how Raikoh lives, or rather how he dies if he lives too long. He has a life meter and a magic bar. The life meter is separated into orbs, and as long as Raikoh has magic and an orb isn't completely emptied when he is damaged, he can replenish his life. Here's the catch: Raikoh's magic meter is depleted not only by casting spells and dashing, but also by time. The magic meter acts as a hidden time meter for players to finish the stage. Once the magic runs out, Raikoh's own life will begin to deplete, and he'll lose the essential ability to dash and fly about. Magic can only be replenished by defeating enemies. The player's objective is twofold: To keep Raikoh alive as long as possible and defeat as many demons as possible—both goals dependent on one another.

Raikoh's life can be extended gaining levels by experience, achieving new weapons (staffs, halberds, twin swords, and heavy swords) and accessories which give him new abilities and alter his strengths and weaknesses. Some give him more magic power, some raise his defense, while others protect him from status ailments like being silenced or burned. Because the fundamental combat is so basic, these items coerce players into digging deeper into the levels, flailing wildly to complete objectives which are unknown and not spoken of in the game.

But digging deep into these levels proves to be a pretty profound experience. Each level is adorned with washed out colors and textures, as lush and lively as the cherry blossom trees the game so prominently displays. They all have unique goals designed to cover the base need to destroy demons. One level has players destroy a cursed rock in a claustrophobic forest. But the hemmed in feeling doesn't just come from the level, but also the hundreds of enemies that choke the screen at the same time. The game's strongest level is also its simplest. Set in a bamboo forest in a blue, cold night, Raikoh must defeat a single demon in one-on-one combat. Again, the game's quietness sets in as we discover the crimson-haired demon is as soft-spoken as the battleground is ravaged.

And Otogi certainly is a case for anger management. Majority of the objects in the environment (including the ground itself) is destructible. The game is a graphic powerhouse with particles flying everywhere due to houses falling, trees splintering and craters being formed. Enemies seem to be harboring as much angst as Raikoh himself, particularly in the stage where the gigantic centipede tears apart a flying tomb in the sky. If the game is as quiet as a pedal falling, it's also one of the most visually loud, and brilliant, games on the Xbox. Its art direction, from weapons and enemy design to textures, is the stuff of dreams.

Unfortunately the same brilliant levels also prove to be the game's downfall. Pulling a Halo, the second half of the game recycles many of the environments from the first half, altered slightly with different objects to destroy, or they may be backwards or upside-down. And although the flip side counterparts to the earlier levels work just as fine, I can't help to think that luck had more to do with it than the skill of the designers themselves. Nothing about wide-open spaces says that they would be particularly difficult to navigate upside down as well. Thankfully, an effort is made to keep things interesting by throwing in the occasional monkey wrench (different objectives, harder enemies, lower gravity). Whether that's enough is not so sure.

The camera is competent, and centering it with the left thumbstick clicked is probably the easiest way to tame it. But the targeting system brings up new problems. The camera is stubborn in making sure Raikoh is at the very center of the screen, even when a target is locked on. As skinny Raikoh may be, it still makes it difficult to see a locked-on target (or the reticule on the enemy) that's directly in front of him. It requires a little guesswork in timing and distance when it comes to attacking sometimes. And with dozens of enemies to face at a time, a little guesswork leaves little time to react, especially with the magic meter counting the seconds. Dozens of enemies also present a problem for the hapless targeting system, which can't seem to make up its mind which enemy to target. And if the system can't figure it out, there's no reason to expect the player to know or act on it except swing wildly and hope something connects.

Still, I pressed on to unlock every single item in the game. I made it a point to master that guesswork of distance and timing. If there were too many enemies, I charged in and swung wildly. These flaws are strong enough to be noticed, but not enough to affect my appreciation for this game, an upgrade on old-school action gameplay mechanics.

There's nothing I can say against the argument that Otogi is merely a mindless hack and slash action game with a pretty face and a few role-playing elements (both of which are done exquisitely). While the core gameplay may be described as mindless, the game is not without heart. Raikoh's a quiet guy. Not a single utterance escapes his lips. But why should he bother? At its highest, the game is a great reminder of tried-and-true gameplay styles that are ageless. Yet the game also maintains the high production value, respect and intelligence demanded of the current generation. Raikoh doesn't need to say a thing. Otogi speaks for itself.

PS2 Game

Anime DVD

Book

Book

Book

Music CD