Machinarium (PC)

Robots win.
10/20/2009 3:48 PM | 6 Comments | Page 2 of 2

Here is a rare example of a literary influence making a game better. Amanita Design's previous games, the Flash adventures Samorost and Samorost 2, were whimsical affairs that were slightly too straightforward to be taken as more than well-crafted Web diversions. Machinarium, in contrast, feels like something to sink into. It's wonderfully grounded by a rigorous and persistent logic in both its presentation and its puzzles.

The more Myst-like of these puzzles -- the pattern-recognizing, block-moving, switch-flipping, grid-running variety -- may disappoint adventure fans who (like me) prefer exploration of the world and interaction with characters to logic games. At worst, those fans can unlock a storyboard walkthrough on each screen by playing a mini-shooter that is just tedious enough to encourage at least one appeal at brainpower over twitch reflexes. And there's a more moderate hint system that gives a general nudge in the right direction.

Still, visual conundrums outnumber the character interactions, and they can be quite difficult. But they are key to the game's underlying themes, and half the reason for its unexpected, and welcome, replayability. The best puzzles, like a pattern-drawing mechanic used to operate an elevator; a maze game in the arcade parlor; and a connect-five board played against a wily robot in a tavern, are games within the game.

The other half of Machinarium's replayability lies in its art, which carries along a strong tradition of Czech animation. No single action taken in the game is depicted without weight: Josef tosses each unneeded object in his inventory with a unique, site-specific flourish; he skips, trips, and falls through the city with alternating grace and clumsiness; he reunites a band of street musicians with their instruments in a series of euphoric sequences that made my spine tingle. While replaying most adventures feels like guiding a doll through well-worn motions, Machinarium really is a film that you happen to advance bit by bit.

It unfolds across cityscapes high and low, from the city's inner circles to its edges. On each screen, the action is flattened into the foreground, trading depth of movement for a better view of the bridge to cross, the wall to scale, the robot in distress. Meanwhile, Josef can only be made to interact with things near his body. If, for example, you want him to pull a high-up lever, you'll have to walk him up the stairs to the lever and then stretch his torso upward before he can reach it.

As the robot scurries left and right, pulls himself up and slides back down, Machinarium calls your attention to its own hand-drawn surface. Amanita's games excel at presenting interactive objects and characters that appear to be fully integrated into the landscape, rather than pasted onto a static backdrop. So when you tug on a plunger, or snip a cable in half, you feel physically close to the world. You can almost smell the ink.

If anything, the art can be too subtle. A couple of the objects you need are practically hidden in plain slight. But Machinarium achieves on its seamless surface what more expensive games must contrive through 3-D technology: full immersion.

It isn't until Space Invaders that you are, pointedly, jolted awake. And this would be the game's climax, if not for a late audacious sequence that equates videogames to a divine act. As the story ends, you feel fulfillment not at watching the triumph, but at having brought it to fruition. You've been a cog in Machinarium's network of time and space -- a thought tickling your subconscious as you pedaled bicycles, cranked levers, and operated the complex machinery of its puzzles.

This profound sense of building a narrative through effort, piece by piece, is what makes Machinarium one of the genre's best to date. In a generation of games defined by lifelike characters, moral choice and awesome graphics, point-and-click adventures seem a bit quaint, their scant devices insubstantial. So Roberta Williams turned her final King's Quest into a 3-D hack-and-slash game. And Tim Schafer, who brought adventure games to their pinnacle with Grim Fandango, now dabbles in every genre but this one. But versatility is no substitute for care, and neither Williams nor Schafer ever put the pieces together quite like Machinarium.

This review is based on a final build provided by the developer. The game can be purchased at the official Web site.