Elementary, My Dear -- Professor Layton And The Diabolical Box Review

That famous puzzle-solving gentleman and his faithful sidekick are back in Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box from Level 5 and Nintendo. The sequel delivers nearly the same, familiar experience as in Professor Layton and The Curious Village, but still makes enough positive changes to keep players interested without sacrificing any of what made the first game great.

Like its predecessor, Diabolical Box is a hybrid of a point-and-click adventure and a collection of logic-based, visual, and mathematical brain teasers. The overarching goal is to follow the trail of the famed Elysian Box and an anonymous perpetrator whose involvement in the death of Layton's mentor is unclear, but like the first game, the story is less a focus than the puzzles players encounter along the way.

Puzzle difficulty ranges from confusingly simple (I found it difficult to understand why certain puzzles were even included, as they didn't seem like puzzles at all) to decently challenging. The average player should have no trouble breezing through the game, however, especially if they decide to take advantage of Layton's hint system. Hidden within the game's background illustrations are "hint coins," which are revealed by tapping on their hiding places and later exchanged for hints to puzzles that manage to keep players stumped. Also helpful is the new memo feature, which allows players to use an overlay effect on the DS screen as a piece of scrap paper while figuring out a puzzle's solution.

This time around, a greater number of the puzzles are better tied into the plot, creatively related to the current in-game situation and surroundings. This ultimately makes for more original puzzles and a more cohesive overall experience. There are also fewer difficult-to-find puzzles; most are discovered by talking to characters and tapping prominent background features as opposed to inconspicuous details.

Players advance smoothly through The Diabolical Box, which already feels like more of an adventure than the last game thanks to the variety of locations to which Layton and Luke travel over the course of their investigation. There is little time spent repeatedly wandering the same locales, and new areas add variety and obvious evidence of progress. Unfortunately, this makes the game feel more guided; players spend less time searching for the next plot trigger, but may also feel like they are just going through the motions to do so.

Aside from the puzzles and the main narrative, which includes many hand-drawn, beautifully animated cutscenes, excellent music, and stellar voice acting, there are a number of minigames that players can divert their attention to. These can be an enjoyable break from the puzzle grind, and have relevant in-game rewards, but end up feeling more like an afterthought than a legitimate pursuit because participation in these games is limited by progress in the main game. Players can't really do anything with these minigames until they have collected the prerequisite items from the main adventure.

Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box is essentially more of the same as last time, but is clearly the objectively better game in the series. The choice to pick up one or the other should be simple for newcomers, and Layton veterans will find plenty here to enjoy once again. A solid mix of story and puzzles make this a perfect game to enjoy in both small chunks and marathon "just-one-more-puzzle" sessions, which can be extended further with the help of weekly puzzle downloads over Nitendo Wi-fi.

Genre Fusion: Binary Lovechildren

It's not uncommon for gamers to hear the question, "what is your favorite genre?" Throughout my videogame-playing career, I have been hit with this very query on more occasions than I can count. Each time I feel slightly uncomfortable about giving a straight answer, and am compelled to not only say that I don't have a favorite genre, but also to explain why, and detail what I hope to see out of the videogame industry as it relates to the question of genre preferences.

It usually goes something like this:

I don't have a favorite genre. I prefer to take each game as an individual piece of work rather than lumping it into a category along with a myriad of other titles. Sure, I compare games to one another based on their similarities, but to prefer one type over another and to harbor preconceived notions about them seems counter-productive to enjoying as many games as possible. Being a videogame journalist, those sorts of prejudices can hurt my ability to objectively critique games, as well.

That all sounds like a very hippie-esque view of the videogame world, but in a very fundamental way, it is true. Games will be compared to a certain extent, but they must also stand on their own.

This is especially the case in the event of genre fusion - games that combine elements from two or more genres in a unique way. I happen to love when developers go this route and create something completely fresh (and hopefully enjoyable).

This has been happening more often as of late; it seems that the current list of genres just isn't enough to accommodate the creative vision of the people making games nowadays. They need to expand. Patapon, The Club, Professor Layton, and Penumbra: Black Plague are a few games that have fused genres very well in recent months.

Unfortunately, the progressive nature of titles such as these is difficult for some gamers (and reviewers) to grasp. I don't know how many comparisons of The Club to Gears of War I've read, but each time I feel just a little more disappointment creeping into my heart. The Club is basically a racing game...with guns...and points. It is not a traditional third-person shooter by any stretch of the imagination, yet many people desperately wish to compare it to those games.

Most of the time, however, the genre-fused product is so obviously on the cutting edge of inventiveness that it is recognized easily and judged accordingly. Patapon has been a hit with reviewers, as has Professor Layton. Butt does that make the 2D side-scrolling rhythm real-time strategy or the point-and-click adventure brain teaser the new hot genres? No...well, maybe...

I hope that there will come a time when genre distinctions, or more realistically, genre norms, are all but forgotten - when games aren't looked at as if they "should be" a certain way (more like game X or game Y), but just are what they are, appreciated solely for that which makes them unique.

...yeah, I guess that makes me an action-adventure-horror-shooter-rpg-strategy-racing-sports-sim kind of guy...

Gamers Anonymous: Addictive Games

How is it that certain games can become addictive, while others seem to simply run their course before tapering off into that void of content that we feel has been satisfactorily exhausted? There has to be some key factor(s) in the distinction between addictive and non-addictive videogames (but still fun ones, because who really wants to play a game that isn't? Well, actually...hmmm...I'll come back to that later.)

I got to thinking about this while playing Professor Layton and the Curious Village, which I feel is a solid game with nothing revolutionary or "must-have" about it - but that is still enjoyable...and addictive. Now why does a simple game full of brain-exercises compel us to keep playing fervently for hours?

Achievement.

The game gives us a brand new sense of achievement at very frequent intervals. Every time a puzzle is solved, the human mind has completed a conquest, and feels pretty damn good about itself. A little shot of dopamine, and you've got yourself a natural high. Professor Layton and the Curious Village does an EXCELLENT job of sustaining that high.

You love Xbox 360 achievements, right? If you said no, stop lying...everyone loves achievements. There are people out there who play games solely for the purpose of unlocking those little nuggets of "I did it!"

Well, achievements work on the same basic premise as I described before. Each micro-victory acts as new incentive for the player to continue, in hopes (conscious or subliminal) that there are more successes to be had in the future. The ones that are more tangible and practical (meaning something other than "take 10,000 steps in this area," or "fall from the corner of a building while crocheting a pillowcase and whistling 'Oh! Susanna.'") are more likely to produce that sort of feeling, because they result from obvious causality. "I did that, so I earned this," is the simple conditional here.

Frequency, as I mentioned earlier, is also important. Knowing that the next reward for your actions is right around the corner keeps you motivated to continue what you are doing. If too much time should pass between those reinforcements, you become more prone to fatigue, and more likely to discontinue play.

The funny thing about this process is that, contrary to what you may think, it doesn't even have to be fun in all cases! I'm sure most of us can recall a time when we were completely absorbed in a videogame, making steady progress, meeting goal after goal after goal, and then suddenly realized that it was no longer fun. Sometimes the response to success can even overshadow the basic responses to actual pleasure...and displeasure. Know any workaholics? Well, there it is.

Anyway, there you have a very basic view of what is going on when you just can't...stop...playing. I don't claim to be a professional on the subject, but I do call it like I see it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my puzz-- I mean, uh, daily... exercise... and stuff.

Puzzling -- Professor Layton And The Curious Village Review

"Would you like to read my review of Professor Layton and the Curious Village for the Nintendo DS? Well then to prove your interest, you'll have to solve this puzzle for me..."

Had we somehow slipped into the realm of the DS and the curious village of St. Mystere, things would have undoubtedly continued along that path until I had you scribbling on maps, rearranging matchsticks, and doing my little brother's math homework. Clearly, that hasn't happened - because I don't have a little brother.

What I did have for a while, though, was an addiction. Professor Layton and the Curious Village (which will henceforth be written as PLCV, to save me time and effort) is like crack for the brainy gamer, and if it's something you can sink your teeth into, you're going to feel compelled to play it any chance you get. "Just one more puzzle..." is the mindset you'll probably adopt - and we all know how that goes.

PLCV is basically a point-and-click adventure game whose entire library of puzzles reads like a Mensa Mind Teasers book. The Professor and his sidekick Luke are called upon to solve the mystery of the recently deceased Baron's hidden golden apple, and soon find themselves jumping from one plot device to the next, eventually arriving at the game's final resolution.

Clearly, the story isn't the reason to play PLCV, although the solid voice acting and colorful, animated visual presentation certainly don't act as deterrents. The game is about the puzzles. Mystere's apparently peaceful community is entirely comprised of puzzle-obsessed (and certifiably insane) individuals who never hesitate to drag you right along into their dementia, and actually force it upon you if you hope to make any progress.

These brain-teasers are fun to complete, and quickly transform from a bother into a mild obsession. You'll soon find yourself seeking out all of the optional puzzles that lie hidden in candles, chandeliers, clocks, and empty bottles in addition to those required to advance the story. You may even forget the story exists in the midst of your spree.

The questions range in difficulty from insultingly simplistic to head-scratchingly abstruse, and are worth point values that are meant to roughly correspond. The scale doesn't always seem correct, however, with some 20-point puzzles requiring more thought than the 50-pointers. If you're ever stumped, "hint coins" hidden throughout the town are exchangeable for up to three clues per puzzle. You're likely to have a truckload of these by the end of the game, though, because for the most part the puzzles aren't quite tough enough to warrant their use.

So what happens when the game is over? You will already know the answers to all of the puzzles, making a second play-through completely pointless. Do you just put the game on the shelf or sell it to your local used games shop? In theory, no, because Nintendo has promised to deliver weekly puzzles over their Wi-Fi Connection for everyone who might find themselves in that situation. Unfortunately, the last update was just about two weeks ago, so I am inclined to question the reliability of that plan - but we shall see how it pans out.

All in all, Professor Layton and the Curious Village is a very enjoyable little game. It may be easy to poke fun at the concept of a town full of puzzle-junkies, but there is really very little to complain about in terms of raw game design and playability. It offers perfectly bite-sized gameplay, and is a wonderful alternative to using illegal psychotropic substances. Try it - you may very well get hooked.