Reviews// Katamari Damacy

As wonderful as all that is, the coolest thing about Katamari Damacy is its unsurpassably bizarre design. The graphics lack any glamour, compared to those bigger budget releases, but they have been stylised. The importance of that really can’t be underestimated. Although all the characters look like Playmobil toys, with angular heads and pastel colouring, they look as if they are supposed to look like that, so it’s all alright. This is gloriously refreshing in contrast to the typical, moodily-lit, some-dude-holding-a-gun-type-imagery associated with games less remarkable.

In an era when many games are developed with obvious concessions to cinema and mainstream pop culture, KD stands out as a genuine freak. Indeed, this image is probably behind its non-release in Europe. You'd never see something like this in any other form of entertainment because it's a concept that exists solely for the purpose of a video game and could present a potential nightmare to any Western company working on its marketing and merchandising. It's a real shame because KD is certainly one of the purest gameplay experiences of recent times, and as JIDPO has acknowledged, it boasts a superb design; and deserves the same sort of repute as Amusement Vision's much-loved ball-based series, Super Monkey Ball.

And although SPOnG isn’t entirely obsessed by balls, if it was up to Katamari Damacy, we probably would be. Quite simply, it’s the least macho game ever made. It makes Space Channel 5 look like Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem, and it makes Kirby look like a particularly angry terrorist on testosterone supplements. The prevalent and persistent use of the word ‘gorgeousness’, the repeated references to rainbows and, most importantly, the overwhelmingly flamboyant music combine to make this camper than Dale Winton pitching a tent whilst dressed in a crotchless pink spandex jumpsuit. Whilst more typical action video-games might put you deliberately on edge, with tight lips and a furrowed brow as you stalk a monster/zombie/Nazi; KD just makes you smile. In fact, it’s difficult to think of any other game that has the power to make you smile quite so broadly, quite so often. In the literal sense: it’s pure gayness.

There are also clear influences from the wider world of psychedelia. The introductory cut-scene places an undue emphasis on large, bright coloured mushrooms, and we strongly suspect that the King Of The Cosmos’ (and the game’s designers’) ‘crazy night-out’ had involved consumption of these on a hitherto unforeseen scale. There are plenty of swirly purple clouds, Amsterdam references, and peculiar tie-dye style graphics lifted straight from the drug-addled mind of a crusty crazed old hippy, and again, this underlines KD’s unique nature. The game’s designers have gone to extraordinary lengths to make the game seem strange at every possible juncture. The ‘things’ that you collect, for instance, are so varied that we could feasibly believe that ‘every’ ‘thing’ is featured somewhere in this game. If you had tried to contrive a list of a thousand objects, each of which appear ludicrously random, you still wouldn’t get the same feeling of randomness as when you’re picking up a string of items such as: octopus sushi, maple leaf, cheese, toothbrush, quail chick, carton of milk, a cow, a kebab and a Japanese boy called Koidi Hayase… It’s all so totally fantastic.