Beer: Crispin Pacific Pear Hard Cider, 12 fl. oz., 4.5% abv
# of beers consumed during play: 4
Level Reached: The level where you lose sleep over Toriel
Level of Intoxication: Buzzed
Game
Undertale is a game created by Indie developer Toby Fox. I really just want to stop there and not say anything else for the rest of the review, because I'm mad at Toby. I'm mad because Toby has essentially been clever enough to take away what I've always felt was my God-given right to consequence-free video game autonomy. He took away my ability to exist on a higher plane of control than that of the game world, and instead made something that persists as opposed to merely existing. As you can tell, I feel as though this is both good and bad, and thus am rather conflicted about the whole affair. Let's go down this rabbit hole together, shall we?
Gameplay
Undertale defies convention in many ways. The most notable of course is the fact that, as mentioned above, the consequences of your actions remain. Other games have allowed a shadow of persistence in one mechanic or another, and indeed, many rouge-like dungeon crawlers feature permadeath modes, but no game has really embraced permanence quite like Undertale has.
Now, before I go any further, I want to make something clear.
If you haven't played this game yet, you really shouldn't read this review until you have. I will be going into some pretty granular points and plot details that really should be experienced first-hand. At its very core, Undertale is a game that's made to be played cold and fresh, and if you know this site at all, you know I will spoil any and all amazing moments in the game without a second thought. I am the week-long power outage in the middle of summer right after you went grocery shopping for the month. You've been warned.
Okay, is everyone else gone? Did they leave to go play the game? Doesn't matter...Don't kill Toriel! Holy shit, I've never felt worse about a game decision ever in my life. The fact that going with game instincts means it's pretty much the first thing you do doesn't make it hurt any less. In fact, with the way Undertale rubs your nose in it afterward, and the fact that you thought that's what you were supposed to do, it makes it even worse. To lay guilt on top of guilt, you have the capacity for this right at the start of the game and it sticks with you. Forever.
"Forever?" you might ask conveniently. Yes. Forever. In one of the most nefariously ingenious strokes of brilliance ever, Toby Fox has tied the game inextricably into the cloud. Even if you restart, even if you uninstall, even if you wipe and start clean, the game will phone home, download your permanent record, and continue judging you for the terrible, unforgivable things you've done. In case you're wondering, yes, this feels incredibly bad; and just as Toby has been brilliant enough to include such a mechanic in the game, so is he also brilliant enough to craft the emotional weights that will hang over your shoulders as a result. If you haven't experienced this first-hand, you might not really think too much of it, or you may discount how much you can get invested in a bunch of pixels. In that case, you've never played Earthbound, or FFVI (or VII), or seen To The Moon to the end. Undertale may not be that same raw sadness these other games and scenes capture, but it certainly reaches inside you and does a little finger-painting with your soul. One of the biggest ways Undertale manages this is with the element of surprise. Not as in jump scares, but genuine wholesome surprise. Things aren't as they seem to be, and whether by design or by accident, the player will eventually uncover the truths and half-truths that Undertale paints and will be continually caught off-guard.
In this, there's a plethora of machinations that work to pull you into the title's complex tapestry. The game plays very much like a retro RPG, and indeed, the battle screen even resembles those from the classic Dragon Warrior and Earthbound franchises. While this game has similarly familiar battle commands though, it also breaks from convention in that most of the time, any given action in battle will lead into a short minigame in which the player must suddenly dodge projectiles, or risk taking damage. This is a chief means by which Toby keeps his players off-guard, as at any moment, you can be subjected to a highly random bullet-hell experience right in the middle of your lo-fi RPG, and you never know if you have to dodge bullets, giant axes, stomping feet, or God knows what else. Your character icon in this mode is a little heart, and if you die, it breaks in a gut-wrenching animation. In these battle modes, if you manage to not get hit a thousand times by stupid little jumping dogs, you can either battle and kill the monsters, or you can show mercy on them. Showing mercy is actually much more difficult, as you must figure out what combination of actions will calm a monster, and allow you to "Spare" them, all the while dodging their attacks in the minigames. To further compound this is the fact that if you play this game the "right" way, you'll never gain any experience, never grow stronger, and you will never get a bigger life bar, making encounters in the later parts of the game scary as hell. In this, I think, the game's true brilliance begins to shine through, and traces a picture that few gamers will understand, let alone see. The game features pacifist, neutral, and genocidal playthroughs, and each comes with it's own consequences and rewards. Toby would much prefer that you play a peaceful run, and such quiet intent waits patiently for you to do the other thing and then endlessly admonishes you for it. Still, playing as a mindless killing machine will allow you to level up, getting stronger and becoming ever more feared among the monster ranks, which is what every game ever in the world has taught players to do, and indeed, rewarded them handsomely for as well. The fact that Undertale turns this on its ear and, while still giving you this choice, also gives you something completely unheard of as an alternative is most certainly groundbreaking. While other games have toyed with the "monsters are friends" concept, none have embraced it as fully--or enforced it as rigidly--as Undertale. In fact, while the choice is most certainly there to be a good person, and the game quite obviously wants you to take that course, the pacifist run is by far the most difficult method of playing the game, and near the end, a player would have to be the amalgamation of all the best parts of Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Theresa combined to continue non-violence in the face of such insane odds.
Knowing this, Toby has sprinkled little tests and temptations around the game, such as Flowey, who will give you chuckles, chills, and disappointment in equal measure. You'll meet Flowey early on, and you will most likely be ready to punch him right in the stems after your first meeting. Aside from Flowey, you'll run across many other characters and enemies, each with a unique personality that will help shape your interaction with them. Many enemies will come in groups, and must be defeated in different and convoluted ways, making many fights--particularly those being played peacefully--into busy, frenetic ones. Many NPCs become unique boss fights, and almost all boss fights are a way to make a new friend. One thing is absolutely certain, if you choose to go the friendly route, be prepared for a lot of incredibly cheap deaths. You will find yourself staring angrily at the overly slow, unskippable game over screen, thinking for the Nth time that perhaps you should say screw it and just go full maniac after all. Though each enemy type has his/her/its own attack types, there's still an element of randomness when it comes to the actual placement of the "friendship pellets" so though you can gain an encyclopedic knowledge of enemy types and attack patterns, you'll still have to stay on your toes as another set of sleepy dog barks come flying at you. The overall movement of your fragile little heart is fairly sluggish, and until you get used to the lethargic locomotion, chances are you'll be buying and using a lot of health potions. As someone who avidly plays both RPGs and Shmups, it's a distinctly strange feeling to have the bullet-hell action and frequent restarts that come with a shooter, but the deep dialogue and questing that comes from an RPG. The seamless transition from dialogue tree to shooting spree is still a bit jarring, and at times needlessly frustrating. But with enough practice (and restarts, and retreading through puzzles and towns, and refighting random baddies), even the most infuriatingly random dancing/singing/petting/smiling battle can be won. As a complement to the unconventional battle minigames, Undertale also pushes the envelope of RPG interaction, including dense blocks of conversation during battle, with some boss encounters being more dialogue trees and scripted scene than fight. This is actually quite refreshing, and helps to blur the line between "dialogue" segments and "game" segments. In fact, the game is conflict-avoidant nearly to a fault. There have been countless times where I was champing at the bit for a good fight, and a dialogue-laden encounter left me feeling warm inside, but also feeling a distinct craving for something more. I've been conditioned by video games to want that, to crave conquest and the sweet, sweet ding that comes with leveling up. Again, the restraint needed to play this game in the vision of its creator is bordering on sainthood, and the fact that all I have to do to get that XP release is to chop down a couple innocent frogs is temptation on a Luciferous level.
If I opt not to bathe in the blood of my enemies, battles I engage in yield no XP, but plenty more gold than normal, whereupon I can go to the local shop and pick up ice cream and manly looking bandannas. I cannot state with any accuracy as to whether I engage in this in real life, and no I will not show you my bandanna collection. Of course, in the world of Undertale, bandannas are one of many accouterments that bestow attack or defense bonuses once equipped, and ice cream or other treats are used to refill health. The fact this isn't also true in the real world makes me sad. Another thing that makes me sad is that in Undertale you have an extremely limited inventory, so the impetus to carefully curate your items looms large with every shop trip, and unlike the JRPGs of yore with their unlimited inventories, if you have something you don't need, you rid yourself of it, post-haste. Other RPGs have featured limited inventories, such as Super Mario RPG, and the recently reviewed Parasite Eve. These games all use limited item slots in different ways, whether that be for the sake of the audience, the sake of the atmosphere, or a little of both. Undertale seems to fall into the "little of both" category, and frankly, is one of the smallest inventories I've seen in an RPG. As with the art and battle in this game, it seems as though minimalism is a recurring theme. Weapons are there for those who need them of course, though with everything in the game working against using them, they might as well not be. In keeping with the "interaction is king" dynamic, even shopkeepers have extended dialogue options, such as asking them about recent news, local history, and just odd chit-chat. This helps to flesh out the world, making things seem even more sincere, and is one of my favorite things about the game. Again, it seems as though everything in this game lands back on the human element, and though it may help to slow the pace of the game a bit, the ability to talk to pretty much everything and everyone is core to the experience. In the end, for those players so inclined, this game is about exploring and learning about a world while trying to leave it as unspoiled as you found it. For others, it's about discovering a priceless, delicate treasure in the forest and using it for target practice. It's just that in the case of Undertale, the priceless treasure looks like a target, and the delicate world is trying to poke you in the eye every chance it gets.
Graphics/Sound
This game has been subject to a wide spectrum of opinion regarding the graphical graphicyness. Some have praised the retro appearance while others have taken measured jabs at the distinctly MS Paint-like interpretations. Simplistic art style or no, there is certainly a solid sense of expression in the game's visuals, and many times, I've caught a random splash of face pixels to have a more artful and nuanced emotion than even the biggest budget rotoscoped action hero. To say that The Terrific Team of Toby and Temmie ("Hoi! I'm Temmie!") understand more than happy, sad, mad, and glad is an understatement. To wit: with a single raised eyebrow and some colorful flavor text, the menacing skeleton Papyrus goes from intimidating ghoul to suggestive potential suitor; with another raised eyebrow, he becomes surprised and is suddenly much more endearing. It's with this particular thesis in mind that you can look at this game world once more and see that through the simple and tightly restrained art style, Toby and Co. breathe a true humanity and warmth into this world full of monsters. Perhaps it's just me, but it seems that most AAA game characters hit an uncanny valley when they try to emote, and it's because we're sooo close to realism that it simply falls flat, and we cease to empathize with the hollow-eyed, not-quite-right robots onscreen. They feel like artificial interlopers into our world. Undertale and other similar works avoid the Uncanny Valley altogether, and craft a fictional world, with characters that are no longer chained to the constraints of looking like us. People get caricatures done of themselves at theme parks because the exaggerated lines accentuate our features and expressions, and make us interesting to look at (for once...). Just like a good caricature, Undertale knows where to put the most expressive lines, and what to change the least for maximum impact. You'll understand how Undertale captures this essence the moment you watch a character's friendly grin curl into an unsettling sneer, or when you watch another character's expression change from a polite smile to a knowing smirk as she talks about keeping one's hopes up during the daily grind. In a game full of disingenuous pairings, a simple pixel drawing of an anthropomorphized rabbit talking about real-life adult concerns seems to fit right in, even if it does manage to pull some deep, strange heartstrings in the process. The artfully applied half-smile is just a very poignant cherry on top.
Much like the graphics, the sound and music adopt a carefully carved minimalist vibe. The delicate main theme that meanders through the game is slow, deceptively simple, and carefully hangs each note on the last, creating a musical ladder that is at once somber and enigmatic. This theme is routinely punctuated by 8- and 16-bit-inspired event sounds, such as the sharp click of a switch, the warbling, falling note of the player getting their ass handed to them by a hidden pit, or the unmistakable note of an enemy encounter. Enemy encounters have their own determined, upbeat score, which helps to set the high-energy tone of the bullet-dodge sequences. In a similar vein, towns, dungeons, NPC dialogues, and other cut scenes each have their own unique sonic sandwich that elevates and adds texture to the action onscreen. In many cases, as in the artwork, the sounds will routinely use one-off sounds and custom pieces of music, never to be heard outside that portion of the game again. This truly lends to more of that good ol' fashioned hand-crafted feel, and if I didn't know any better, I'd have visions of a bunch of kindly old ladies sitting in front of a giant fireplace dressed in tulip dresses and petticoats and composing the music, after which they would knit a cozy blanket for their grandson. He's going to be working in the mines soon, and his favorite color is blue. Alas, I do know better, and instead of old ladies baking cookies in-between jam sessions, it's Toby Fox himself crafting all the feels and making me all blubbery-eyed, although I do feel a little better if I picture Toby composing music while wearing an old-fashioned tulip dress. At any rate, dress or not, the sounds are far better than merely adequate, and really, while a lot of games out there are hawking their soundtrack as a separate feature, Undertale is one of the games that actually earn the right to make that distinction.
Story
In a game so highly focused on story and interaction, it's difficult not to do a review that constantly touches on the story within the context of the gameplay. I've been trying to dance around the subject as best as I can in the hopes I would still have something to talk about once we got here. Here's where I'm going to go all super spoiler on you because really, I'm going to talk about the core themes of the game, and those are tightly interwoven into the fabric of the story itself. In Undertale, you are an androgynous human child who has inadvertently fallen into the land of the monsters. In order to get home, you must travel through the monster's home city. The catch is, humans and monsters had a problem getting along back in the day, and so the monsters fled to the underground and are now hugely mistrustful of any human. You're alone, you're defenseless, and you leave your only friend early on in the game.
And then you meet Sans and Papyrus, and yes, you are reading that correctly, they are both named after type fonts. You quickly realize monsters aren't really too bad, most of them are just misunderstood, and all of them are quirky and a little bit like us. While that last sentence may sound like a Netflix tagline for an obscure 80's sitcom, it's actually true for this game, and begins punching the central theme home in a slow, methodical way. As you play, you run across all manner of monsters, and more than a few are represented as rather ghoulish, and what they say may not make much sense, but as you begin to examine the monsters, you begin to realize that they have a problem, or that you haven't addressed them a certain way. Once you study and interact with them long enough, you begin to understand what's bothering them, and help them solve it. Yes, though it may sound hokey, elementary, or idealistic, the central theme behind Undertale is the fact that people can be terrible, people can be scary, and that things are not always as they seem, especially with people (or monsters). The other theme is that you are a terrible person in particular, and it's people like you who go around beating poor, misunderstood monsters up and making everyone afraid of you. Bullies. The game's about goddamn bullies. Humans are bullies, monsters look like bullies unless you get to know them, and if you just choose to fight something you don't understand, you're the biggest bully of them all. The game features heavy use of the themes of weakness and strength, and uses symbols and imagery that subverts those themes. Your character doesn't look particularly strong, and the monsters don't look particularly inviting. Some of the cutest widdle puppies in suits of awwrmor will give the nastiest challenges, and some of the more terrifying-looking beasties just need a little helping hand.
An early-game example is Papyrus, he's rather menacing (though still goofy) through the earliest stages of the game. He continually makes (unsubstantiated) claims about being the best, and how he will capture the first human he sees. He's full of bravado, and once you fight him in earnest, you discover he's incredibly lonely and insecure. Once you appeal to him, he agrees to become your friend, though only to spare you the inner turmoil of having your love unrequited by him. Things between you two get complicated later of course, but isn't that always the way these things go?
As is evidently clear by exchanges such as the one outlined above, the game thrives on presenting characters--big and small--who are all a little weird and a little awkward, and helps us to understand them a little better, if we're so inclined. As is also evidenced, the game can make you feel small and insignificant very quickly.
Beer
Smell
All at once the smell is clean, but with a slightly sweet angle that seems to be not entirely okay after the trip through the alcohol. The odor is distinctly hospital-y, which I understand is fairly uncreative, but is the best way I can describe the strange antiseptic yet sweet like medical soap vibe I am getting. I understand that what I'm smelling is supposed to be fresh-pressed pear, but there's a fairly wide gulf between when these things were freshly-pressed and when they became fermented shadows of their former selves. I mean don't get me wrong, I understand that ciders are on a different level than beer and as a result are apparently judged by how much they smell like a fresh bedpan. Again, don't get me wrong, if you're the head nurse at the local coma ward, this drink will be right up your alley. I realize I take liberal opportunities to joke, but really, the smell isn't that attractive at all. It seems to be an afterthought more than anything else, and really doesn't do much to "pull me in" for an eager sip as it should. In any brew, and especially those that skirt the mainstream, the first whiff is crucial. That first waft of odor will be a drinker's sounding rod to an unfamiliar drink, alerting them to the extreme depths (or lack thereof) they are about to experience. If that smell is not up to the task, an unfamiliar drink can be passed off to the guy who forgot his own beer within seconds. Also, I'm going to be your friend here, and tell you that if you ever actually need a real sounding rod for industrial or maritime applications, please specify "industrial" in your internet search. Failure to do so will bring shock and awe right to your doorstep, and mind-bleach hasn't been invented yet.
Taste
The taste is light until you swallow, and while it practically floats above the tongue, once it's left your mouth, the aftertaste will linger like a piece of driftwood on a dry beach. It'll attack your tastebuds like a sour patch kid or maybe a lemonhead that has been...changed. If I had to use one word to describe the taste of this which is actually two words smooshed together, it would be "rumpears." Feel free to split that word up any way you like, it works no matter what. Following rather closely with the smell, the taste will not appeal to many people who pay their own bills, as it is somehow cloyingly tangy while still being somehow bland and uninspired. The Rumpears are readily apparent, and again, like the smell, the taste is familiar, but somehow not quiiiite right, and everything suffers as a result. The above-noted woody aftertaste certainly doesn't help, and really, if you're going to subject yourself to a cider-based product, opt for the more traditional apple cider. If you do, try to find something a little better than Hornsby's. As it stands, the Pacific Pear sounds alluring in theory, but when put into practice, something gets lost in translation. Something significant.
Intoxication
I will say one of the things about this brew is that it will have a hard time getting anyone drunk, or even more than a little buzzed. At a paltry 4.5 percent, intoxication will come on frustratingly slow, and with the additional liquid needed to deliver those few alcohol molecules to your brain, you'll likely be peeing more than you'll be partying. What kind of buzz you do manage to catch will depend more on whether you drink as a habit rather than if you've been drinking recently. Anyone with a tolerance higher than a preschooler will find themselves lightly disappointed by Crispin, which will impart an intoxication that is akin to crouching down on the playground back in the day, breathing heavily until you got the giggles, and then standing up as fast as you could. Unless you are that one kid that tried it and then went to the hospital because you passed out and hit your head on a sprinkler. If you're that kid, Crispin will rock your world. It won't rock it very far, but still. Now, I know I like to take cheap shots at low abv numbers because, hey, the entire point of drinking alcohol is to get wasted, right? Well, maybe for some. Honestly, if I can put my silly little jokes aside for a moment, I will say that it's actually a good thing that some drinks come with lower numbers. The simple fact of the matter is that some people have lower tolerances, and though I may make lots of jokes at their expense, it's actually okay (and maybe a little bit admirable) that these people have lower tolerances. They also shouldn't have to get shit-hammered every time they go to the bar, whether that be because they are an occasional drinker, a person of particularly small stature, or just someone who wants to take a break from tasty alcoholic beverages and drink sugar-piss instead. In all cases, Crispin is there to fill that completely justifiable need. Yay Crispin.
Feel
Well, I want to lead off by saying every time I mention Crispin by name, I feel like I'm referring to an adorable, blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid who is severely mentally disabled. Like...windowlicker status, and every time I say something about Crispin, no matter how bad, it feels somehow like an accomplishment. Yes, lest you wonder, these are the types of thoughts that kept me away from politics. I'm sure there is a very contemporary political joke that can be made here, but I'm not going to say anything, and just let anyone reading this formulate the joke that best suits themselves. Don't email me with any of them, or else I will post them to the Games 'N Beer Facebook and Twitter feeds and exactly 17 people who follow those accounts will laugh at you. You've been warned. Okay, carrying on...Like many ciders, this stuff is dangerously easy to chug, and the feel is so light and refreshing, there isn't an underage party on earth that wouldn't be happy to have this in the fridge. When I likened this stuff to adult Izze, I wasn't entirely on point, as this stuff has absolutely nothing on Izze's carbonation. This should be expected though, as this is naturally carbonated, meaning instead of a pop, you get a fizzle. Again, this means two-fisting is a valid tactic with this drink, and really, if you're a guy over 15-er...21, two-fisting this is the only way you'll retain your Man Card around your buddies, and even still, they may find a pink hat for you to wear later.
The Matchup
So, what have we learned from this "pearing"? That first and foremost, I should never make that pun again in my life ever, and second, that if there's a chance for me to open someone up to the rolling dumpster fire that is risky Google searches, I will do so without hesitation. I've also learned that that game you bought on Steam sale and have been successfully putting off for the better part of a midlife crisis is pretty damn awesome, despite the hokey, overly used "retro" presentation. In addition, I've learned that you can't say "Pacific Pear" without saying "piss", and that's a lesson we all should learn.
Cheers/Game on.