Frida Kahlo avoids playing Kingdom under... Zzzzz
This week I has mostly been half-heartedly avoiding playing Kingdom Under Fire: Circle of Doom.
The almost-Manga-esque-but-not-quite banal illustrations on the box - reminiscent of those drawn by a 15 year old ‘borred in maffs wiv aiimii 2K8 lol’ - were hard to get through alone. Then, as soon as it had loaded, the inevitable Oblivion comparison started. I can’t help myself! Much like the “Simpson’s did it!” South Park episode a part of my brain keeps up a running commentary, not just “Oblivion did it!” but “Obliviondid it better.” In fact, I’m doing it now, even as I write.
The fact that you can’t design your own character or even assign attributes and abilities immediately deflated my expectations. As my regular readers will know this is one of my gripes on a lot of games, but especially RPGs. To illustrate the effectiveness: I played Mass Effect for a week or so purely because I had a, perhaps slightly megalomaniac, ownership of the character. Watching her run around I’d feel a warm sense of pride. “I created you. I created your firm buttocks, cheeky hairdo and innocently angelic, yet Gothically stern face. Run. Run, my pretty!” And that was Mass Effect, for God’s sake.
Some games are too divine to let the thought of personalisation cross my mind. Portal, for example. Ah, Portal. Can we actually all, just for a moment, reflect on the pristine design, effortless build up of emotional attachment and delicate touch of Portal, please? Perhaps there should be a national holiday for it, once a year, where we would watch the ‘Life of a Portal Turret’ video (See bottom of this article. Ed) and perhaps get some cake?
Right – point in case. Did you all see that? That was a literary mirroring of what happens to me whenever I try to interact with Kingdom of I Really Can’t be Arsed to Write the Whole of that Title Again I go off on a tangent. Without noticing. Not frustrated with it, not even a strong enough emotion as ‘bored’, just….meh to the extreme. Extreme meh.
Loading it up a moment ago for my second revision of it (just to make sure I wasn’t being unfair), at the return screen I noticed my Total Play Time was at 00:43:03 and thought “Is that it? I’d have played that much of Oblivion if I’d had half an hour before my boyfriend’s funeral. And if I’d have noticed the time after that long I wouldn’t rush. I would merely give a wry smile and think ‘It’s what he would have wanted.’”
It was at this point, coming around from this flight of possibility, that I realised I’d started doing the washing up. A roasting pan, of all things! Usually I’d have let that go to rust before even putting it in ‘to soak’. Behind me there’s a comfy sofa, pillows, a drink, my kitten and a game on the TV ready to go, yet I stand elbows deep in water that would make Frida Kahlo think “Ooh, that’s a bit mucky.”
When I attempt to rouse myself to play it, Mr Pocket Frenzy is almost weeping within the first two minutes. “What’s happening? This is crap! TURN IT OFF!!!” My pain in comparing it with Oblivion being somewhat dwarfed in passion by his comparisons to WoW.
I’m considering now the fact that even writing this article is a means of distracting me from having to play the game itself. I stopped after so much less than an hour on it last night not because it was 4am, the flat was on fire or my eyes had started to bleed, but because my kitten had a chugnut that needed removing.
And that’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever written.
