I mistakenly wrote in a previous post that Harold Halibut only used three and a half buttons; three face buttons to navigate the menus and interact with the various characters and equipment of the Fedora 1 spaceship, and then the left trigger to stop whatever Harold is doing and zoom in close. Simplicity was the highlight. It forced you to look at your beautiful, handcrafted surroundings instead of just walking around.
But the fourth button appeared. Anyway, during my extensive testing of what buttons did things when I started the game, I didn't notice that holding 'X' made Harold run. So, I bounced around Fedora 1 for four hours, Harold taking his time going everywhere, his slouching behavior reminiscent of a Thunderbird whose leash has been cut. I enjoyed the opening sequence of the play as it fits Harold's no-nonsense personality. And then, I realized that he could run.
Her little jog is as cute as her walk, but it's unnerving. The faster pace is no match for Harold, or the eponymous play it inhabits. I'm not even sure you can call it jogging. It's more like that awkward walk you do when a car lets you cross the road in front of you. It's self-indulgent, just as Harold knows he shouldn't rush this slow game. As you walk around, Harold hits his head on a closed door that doesn't open fast enough. Screen loading feels more annoying, seems to take longer than Harold's speed. Besides, Harold doesn't seem to be the jogging type – his Arcade run proves it.
So, I decided to continue with Not Jog. I treated each level as a playful exercise. I'll only press X if there's an emergency – sirens blaring, delivering antibiotics to strangers, or something like that. Harold remained motionless, unperturbed, and unrushed for the rest of the time. He walks on foot.
Getting around Fedora 1 is a smooth affair, especially at Harold's speed. It also forced me to slow down. I noticed the details of the game world. I took the time to look at the vibrating computer readings because I knew they looked ridiculous. I looked out the window full of water, watching the schools of fish swimming. I noticed the game for what its creators were trying to achieve: beauty, simplicity, evocation.
The simple control system, the slow speed, all this helped the developers try to tell you to look around and your conversation. The players come first, not the action. Harold's speed doesn't quite move Titanfall 2, but it speeds things up unnecessarily. I understand that walking simulators are a popular genre, and I like many of them, but more games should be less. This speed should not be limited to one type.
I want Cyberpunk 2077 to let me stop and eat my pasta. There's nothing I love more than hanging out at a bar in Skyrim. RPGs often offer the opportunity to play at your own pace, but I could use the downtime in an action game. It takes time for Kratos to grab the glasses of Midgard from this unique camera angle. Maybe that's what got me into the story more than throwing axes at a thousand enemies.
That's why I love battle royale. The slow start of the game not only allows you to loot, maneuver and isolate enemy combat, but it is also an opportunity to explore the intricacies of the map, develop a line of sight, and just shoot. to your friends. By the time you get to four or five laps you're ready to get down and get down to the real business, but that soft start is an understated feature of the BR design.
Harold Halibut's slow pacing made me feel bad for the pace of the game. It made me wish for more relaxed moments in more aggressive games. It made me realize that maybe the best part of my favorite game isn't the boss beast fights or the twists and turns of the story, but the ability to sit in a sci-fi restaurant and eat mushroom soup .
