The game sees the player take on the role of Mary, a character seeking her long lost sister, who comes across a number of oddball characters in her travels and becomes embroiled in a quest that could spell the end of the spirit world that she can suddenly connect with.  Expect ghostly comedy and a healthy dose of dark humour from the developers of pirate romp, Jack Keane, along with some eye-catching visuals when it glides out this May.

Anyway, to the screens…

The passing of time has, however, allowed the table to slowly turn, grinding heavily to the point where the snorts of derision flow in the opposite direction as I take joy in being one of the few who saw beyond the dazzling line-up of October releases, bypassing the likes of Rage, Kirby, and the behemothic Arkham City to the visual and comedic masterpiece that is King Art Games’ Book of Unwritten Tales.

While BoUT has only recently reached British shores, the German market has had it for the last two years where it held court at the top of the adventure game genre and became increasingly swathed in awards as news of the game spread to more review sites.  Bringing it to an English speaking audience was less about getting it out there as soon as possible and more about ensuring that each character was perfectly portrayed and that none of the trademark humour was lost in translation. This is perhaps a vital piece of the puzzle as the attention to detail afforded by Mark Estdale when it came to rewriting the script to suit the English audience is what sets Unwritten Tales head and shoulders above all other non-native-tongued releases.  From beginning to end, its self referential approach to the storyline and character portrayal is a delight to behold and checks every box thrown at it.

The story itself is considerably more tongue in cheek than most you’ll ever come across, with the first few moments cemented in enough nods to let you know that this will undoubtedly be one of those Police Squad experiences where you may not necessarily catch every joke first time around, usually because you’re still laughing from the last one.  To the more eagle-eyed player, however, there are countless pop culture references peppered throughout each level, from the introduction of one Professor MacGuffin to Princess Ivo’s humming of a familiar John Williams hook as she flicks forth a bullwhip to swing from one platform to another.

On being released from his airborne prison, the aforementioned Professor MacGuffin finds himself on the outskirts of a snow-covered town populated by gnomes. One such gnome is Wilbur Weathervane who, on discovering the professor, is tasked to deliver the “One Ring” to the Arch Mage in a neighbouring city.  Cue several lines of cleverly-pointed dialogue pondering how someone could entrust something so important as this “One Ring” to the hands of an unwitting halfling and how it would surely make more sense for the powerful wizard himself to make the delivery, and our main story is now underway.

Throughout the four chapters of the game, the story will turn in such a way as to flit between timelines where you’ll play as either Wilbur, Princess Ivo, Nate the smuggler or Critter… who can only really be described as a lilac Chewbacca to Nate’s Han Solo although, to be honest, the character of Nate is more like Captain Mal from Firefly so perhaps Critter is more akin to being Kaylee Frye, but with body hair issues.  Each character has their own distinct personality and serves their own purpose when situations start to get a little sticky.  As the game progresses the four individual timelines cross to the point where you can play as any one of the characters at will, selecting them from an avatar menu at the top of the screen, and it’s at this point that the gameplay becomes more about considering each move than running ahead to see how many objects are interactive in each scene.

The interactivity plays an important part in most of the in-game puzzles whereby something that is apparently unusable could eventually be of vital importance, although not necessarily in the same state in which you picked it up.  This became increasingly obvious when I had to find some purple paint when I hadn’t managed to see any on my travels but, with some ingenuity along with a pinch of trial and error as well as some seemingly-unrelated inventory items, was able to create some that would do the job.  While some puzzles involved a degree of back and forth in typical fetch-quest fashion, most were attainable without putting in too much effort and, thankfully, there wasn’t a single slide puzzle in sight.

As with all new IPs, there is always that period where you wonder if taking a chance on playing the game will be a worthwhile risk or will ultimately end up in time wasted that would have been better spent on other titles.  The initial draw towards The Book Of Unwritten Tales was, for me, the hilarious trailer along with what few screenshots were available at the time.  While the humour is very self referential and pokes fun at various aspects of gaming such as the point and click adventure genre, fetch quests, and in-game stereotypes. There is one particular scene which, even at perhaps five minutes long, was still too short in how perfectly constructed it was with the carefully-considered dialogue and observations by the characters as they described their MMO and RPG characters, and will hopefully go down in history as one of the great comedic video game set-pieces.  It was this humour, along with the beautifully crafted environments, that pulled me in and further away from my comfort zone of the heavily-textured and mesh-ridden WRPG title.

All technological advances with various engines such as CryENGINE 3 or id Tech 5 aside, there are few games that have that particular graphical quality which can immediately result in a sharp intake of breath coupled with an internal “wow”.  The Book of Unwritten Tales is one such game, however, and the care with which each individual pixel is represented on screen is evident from that first moment where the intro begins to load.  The deep contrasts and smatterings of vivid light in darker scenes are reminiscent of Joseph Wright’s “An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump”, and the attention to detail further reinforces this feeling with every insignificant area of the screen given as much thought as the characters themselves.  Something which, in my opinion, is often overlooked in the modern gaming industry in favour of women with gravity defying breasts or more slowmo explosions than you can shake John Woo at.

As the game progresses, so too does the quality of the environments and it’s all too easy to temporarily forget about quest lines as you soak up the meticulously designed ambience and pour over each tiny corner of the screen to see what lies hidden in the shadows.  Standing in a cavern where the only source of light is a bubbling crater of lava, with flames dancing on the horizon, it’s difficult to pay attention to the talkative dragon when there’s so much going on in the background but, to be perfectly honest, that sort of thing really appeals to me as a graphic designer and makes for a more visually-rewarding experience overall.

It’s not all about the graphics and humour though, as Unwritten Tales has so many other reasons to steal your life away for a good twenty or so hours.  The pixel hunting can be a joy if you don’t resort to the “show all hotspots” key, as there are so many objects with which to interact, although they’re not always necessary to the story and may be nothing more than additional comic relief.  The voice acting is superb and, in my opinion, stands out above all other releases from 2011.  While there are four main characters to play as, the main protagonist is, as mentioned earlier, Wilbur Weathervane and is voiced superbly by Nicholas Aaron who gives a very understated performance.  In fact, all of the voice talent have a very laid back approach to their roles which, I hasten to add, is a positive rather than a negative.  Nobody comes across as being over the top, hamming it up, or taking too much of a tongue in cheek approach to their characterisation and so there is never a point where that fourth wall is broken by a forced accent, and you’re forever held within the game world.  The sign of perfect voice acting.

Benny Oschmann’s epic score shifts between the heavily orchestrated and driving Overture through to perfectly-balanced incidental theming which, thankfully, never detract from the task in hand or become a jarring annoyance like so many others have.  As beautiful as it is, however, there were times when I wanted to hear more of it and found that it was almost overshadowed by the rest of the game and given a little too much of a back seat.  While I understand the reasoning behind it, assuming that the developer wanted the game to be more immersive and a heavily-present score could quite easily rip the player away from said immersion, I would have loved to hear more of Oschmann’s work throughout each of the chapters.

If I was forced to find any negatives with The Book of Unwritten Tales, it would have to be with the ending itself.  There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with it, per se, and I suppose if I had to be perfectly honest I would have to admit that the way it was handled was actually perfect, given the circumstances, but there was just that moment where… and this may be a spoiler so stop reading here if you don’t want to know… I thought the game had finished and was looking forward to the typical congratulatory scene when, all of a sudden, it became clear that it wasn’t actually the end.  We’re not talking about some long, drawn out, Lord Of The Rings ending where you could quite literally stick a pin in it every five minutes for the last forty minutes and call it a decent ending, but the game could have ended where you expect it to.  That it doesn’t, isn’t a game-killer by any stretch of the imagination and, in fact, the ending is perhaps one of the most intelligently considered that I’ve ever come across in some thirty years of gaming BUT, as smart as it was, it was also unnecessary.  Endearing, appreciated, incredibly smart… but unnecessary nonetheless.  Did it let down the rest of the game though?  Absolutely not.  There isn’t much that could pull down a game of this calibre and, even though I write this several weeks after completing it, I still wish I was back in that mystical land with more to see and more adventures ahead.

Developed by Deck 13 – also responsible for the piratey point and click, Jack Keane – Haunted is a kooky and spooky adventure, promising lashings of dark humour, a wealth of characters, and some pretty surreal locations.  London and Transylvania are par for the course, but a goldfish bowl?  We can’t wait to see what that’s about.  In Haunted, the player slips into the shoes of Mary, a young woman in search of her long lost sister, and who, on discovering that she can see and talk to ghosts, becomes swiftly embroiled in a quest that throws up some shocking revelations about her past, which could lead to the destruction of the spirit world.  So, no pressure then.

Of course, this being a point and click, expect dozens of stunning locations, oddball characters, and a myriad of puzzles, although you won’t be on your own because Haunted’s protagonist will have up to six accompanying ghost characters to help her and even, we’re told, a werewolf.  While we were hoping that Deck 13′s horror adventure, Black Sails: The Ghost Ship would be making a UK appearance before we tear our hair out, we’re happy to settle our grumbling for the time being with news of Haunted, which will see a Q4 release this year.  Now, we’ll go back to oogling the screens.

As one would expect, the genre slipped from the top of the playlist of the typical gamer as modern technology afforded them the opportunity to immerse themselves in more realistic scenarios, with fewer still relying on the ability of the player to evaluate their environments and inventories in order to create weird and wonderful contraptions that would allow them to progress through the story.  Some may also argue that, for the most part, the brain is no longer required when it comes to modern gaming and that reflexes and muscle memory are all that developers ask of their market, but the point and click genre would undoubtedly throw a rusted gauntlet to the ground to defend their opposing position.

The advent of polygons, meshes and dynamic lighting do still have a place within the point and click adventure genre, however, with more developers turning to the “2.5D” arena where it is neither a full 3D environment nor a static 2D backdrop through which the player must hunt for that darned elusive pixel.  The Book of Unwritten Tales is one such adventure, relying heavily on the mental agility of the player, but with beautifully crafted, living environments where lighting, shadow, organic details and subtle humorous nods guide us on a journey of discovery through the eyes of various protagonists as they follow their interwoven quests as bestowed upon them by a gremlin by the name of MacGuffin.

While The Book Of Unwritten Tales may have been a hit for some two years in Germany, its recent anglicisation has opened it up to a whole new world of appreciation, and it’s really not hard to appreciate this game.  Scattered screenshots across the web and teaser trailers don’t come close to doing the visuals any justice, and from the second the introduction ends and the cinematic credits start to roll with epic reminiscence of Jim Henson’s The Storyteller, you immediately sense that this journey is going to be something special.

The graphics are stunning and, even as semi-static backgrounds, there is an organic nature to them.  The use of colour and contrast, with each scene being perfectly set by a carefully-considered palette, jumps off the screen and is a mix of hyper realism and classic illustration.  If I had to liken the environments to anything from my imagination, these are the closest I have ever come to Ankh-Morpork, but with considerably less hustle and bustle.  I won’t bore you by whipping out my graphic whore’s soap box but, suffice it to say, the meticulous detail is what immediately drew me to Unwritten Tales.

What managed to actually keep me playing, however, was the fantastical approach to gameplay.  As someone who often finds the narratives in video games to be somewhat lacking, King Art Games managed to do something quite spectacular by not only managing to thread an incredible amount of humour through the story, but also introduce more nods than you can shake a ‘Staff Of Ra’ at.  I adore literal humour; I raise a smile when subtle references from popular culture pop up when you least expect them and, as I’ve only recently discovered, let loose a hearty laugh when the comedy turns self referential or offers blatant mimicry of something that so many of us are incredibly familiar with.  During my playthrough of the preview, I would stop playing through the laughter to explain what had snagged my funny bone, “Isn’t it too much?” I was asked and, after a pensive moment or two, all I could say was “No, actually it’s not!”.

To someone not playing the game, having been told what had just cropped up, it’s understandable that they’d wonder if all these cultural references weren’t getting to the point where it was nothing more than padding the story out with lazy attempts at cheap humour.  When you’re sitting in front of the screen, however, controlling whatever character you’ve since taken over, it’s a very different story.  In fact, there were times they would pull what I’d call the “The Ol’ Final Destination” where my mind would think ahead to the set-up for yet another nod, but it wouldn’t appear.  Nobody was digging in the wrong place, nobody’s name turned out to be Bill Door, and that wasn’t quite Danny Elfman playing in the background.

Comments from NPCs as to why anyone would entrust the safety of such an important ring to a halfling, or one of our heroes, Ivo, humming an all-too-familiar note progression as she uses a bullwhip to pull her from one platform to another all serve to weave a rich tapestry of humour to carry us through what could otherwise be a typical tale of delivering a magical artefact.  It’s difficult to convey exactly how much comedic performance there is without spoiling anything, and perhaps my favourite ten or fifteen minutes was spent working through a particular problem where Unwritten Tales was at its self-referential best – discussing video games, gamers themselves and the problems faced when the Server crashes or becomes bug-laden.  This, to my mind, was comedy genius and the eight hours of preview playthrough was worth it for this section alone.

King Art Games have taken something of a different slant on the point and click genre with the option of playing as four separate characters, each of which will serve their own purpose at any given time.  The preview begins with the player taking on the role of the rather stunning Ivo, an elf princess who stumbles across the abduction and imprisonment of the archaeologist Mortimer MacGuffin.  MacGuffin’s release from his temporary prison pulls a passing gnome by the name of Wilbur Weathervane in to deliver his “One Ring” to the Arch Mage in a neighbouring city and it’s here that our adventure begins.

Recently-graduated Wilbur approaches the docking bay (perhaps 94?) to meet with Nate and Critter, with the Mage Tower in the background

The characters themselves are superbly voiced, and I was surprised not to see any familiar names on the cast list beyond that of David Rintoul from Risen, Dragon Age, Heavenly Sword and… if you’re someone who uses their television for activities other than gaming… the lead in Dr Finlay. I’ve since discovered from Mark Estdale, voice director and English script editor, that our waistcoated airship captain, Nate, was voiced by Doug Cockle who also has the lead role of Geralt in the Witcher series.  I was naturally quite hesitant that the humour and dialogue would be lost in the translation from German to English, or that the studio would pull in a horde of ‘cheap as chips’ actors just to get the job done and keep costs to a minimum, but they have instead excelled in every way imaginable. It’s not just the voice acting that teases the ears from one scene to the next, however, as a haunting orchestral score immerses the player while subtle background hubbub such as whistling grass and nesting bids carry the ambience to provide a well rounded atmosphere.

As someone who leans more towards the role playing or strategy genre, I wasn’t exactly aux fait with how all these shenanigans work, where sellotaping a maggot to a lollipop stick which was then suspended between two frogs would cause some weird contraption to burst in to life but, after a while, I got there.  Some of the puzzles were so damned obvious after I’d actually worked out how to do them whereas some were just… as a literal thinker, they should have been obvious, but I clearly wasn’t thinking literally enough.  Whether other titles in the point and click genre give the player quite so much to think about, I have no idea, but the puzzles I encountered were taxing enough to get the grey matter churning without ever becoming frustrating.

My quick dip into the sea of point and clicks has got me craving more and, even though I’ve said in the past that I wanted to immerse myself in the Black Mirror trilogy, I’d much rather that my first real journey was one of fun and laughter than unnerving shadows and tension.  The Book Of Unwritten Tales has everything that someone like me could possibly want from a game: stunning visuals, haunting score, top notch voice acting, a story that’s compelling enough to reel you in without taking itself too seriously… and an incredible sense of humour.  Thinking outside of the box has never been so hilarious, or beautiful.

The Book Of Unwritten Tales will be published by Lace Mamba Global in Autumn 2011, available on Windows PC.

The Book of Unwritten Tales has gone down a storm in Germany, with the humorous point and click adventure snatching stellar reviews from adventure sites.  Chock with dark humour and oddball characters, it delivers a homage to the RPG and fantasy genres (books, movies and games) and in an interesting move for the genre, offers four playable characters.  We can expect some unique skill situations, as well as more complex four way puzzles then.  We’re hoping to see the game in its gorgeous glory at Gamescom 2011, and will bring you more details as soon as we have them.  For now, you’ll have to make do with some screenshots and the trailer.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The original Memento Mori was hailed for not only it story, but the visuals too – something which developer Centauri Production is aiming to up the ante on this time around, with a new dedicated 3D engine.  Memento Mori’s protagonists, Lara and Max make a return, and the game will kick off with the duo lending a hand to apprehend an art thief, leading to a high speed chase with terrible consequences.

The game will be spread out over eight chapters, with three playable characters and boasts more than fifty locations, from Cape Town to Lyon, Finland, and San Francisco.  With the first title still on the to-play pile of some of the GLHQ staff, we’d better get our skates on because the adventure line-up for the Autumn/Winter is starting to fill up.  Now we just need to cross our fingers for the elusive Harvey’s New Eyes…

A New Beginning drops you into the retired life of Eco-Scientist Bent Svensson in early 1980s Norway. Bent lives alone in a small out of the way cabin, nestled in the quiet foothills of the Fjords, having dedicated his entire life to his work, losing his family in the process because he just never knew when to quit. He suffers from stress problems and is currently seeing a psychiatrist who is battling against Bent’s ingrained belief that he and he alone must somehow save the world.

It’s an incredibly mundane beginning, or at least it would be were it not for the game’s contrastingly dramatic introduction, set 500 years in the future where environmental instability has ravaged the Earth. The Phoenix Plan is put into action: an attempt to send the last remaining survivors back through Earth’s history to identify the planet’s turning point and prevent global warming from causing the catastrophes witnessed in their own lifetime. It’s risky and, even if it were successful, due to the fragile nature of time travel the future survivors are prone to wipe themselves clean out of existence, but things really are that bad and Daedalic illustrate this, literally, with a stunning comic book style prologue before we first meet Bent.

Returning to Bent, the game’s prologue continues with a brief introduction to the controls and a quick orientation on what is to be expected of you. Being a point ‘n’ click game, the majority of control is handled through pointing with the mouse cursor and left clicking to interact with the scenery. Holding left click over any ‘clickable’ object will open an interactive wheel similar to that found in the Mass Effect games, offering all object specific interactions currently available to you, beginning with ‘Look’.  Right clicking opens up the inventory system across the bottom of the screen, offering you the same interactions as with the vista before you. Movement is entirely restricted to left clicking on open ground and panning the camera around as Bent nears the edge of the screen, should the location offer any extra exploration possibilities, or simply highlighting exits in order to flash on to the next scene.

Having relayed all of this through its optional tutorial, the game gently eases you into the hassles of retirement for Bent, having you cobble together a hatchet fix for a broken engine belt from items scattered throughout the initial few scenes. During the course of these activities, Bent reflects upon the discarded remnants of his former life, conveying his regrets and the decisions which led him to his self imposed exile, giving the gamer plenty of background with which they can begin to weave a nice, comfy blanket to wrap themselves up in. Partway through the task of repairing the engine belt, a helicopter lands on the hills behind Bent’s Cabin, entirely spoiling his solitary existence and introducing A New Beginning’s second protagonist, Fay.

It’s here that you learn that Bent couldn’t be further from your typical hero, as he all but ignores Fay’s declaration of being ‘from the future’ and insists on continuing to fix his engine, completely unresponsive to the threat of global destruction. Having conceded that her presence can at least be of benefit to him and asking for her assistance in completing his repairs, Fay collapses into a coughing fit, re-lighting that fire within Bent to start helping people once again.

Once recovered, Fay tells Bent that she is a Time Pilot from the 26^th century, sent back to encourage him to continue his research into Algae as a sustainable fuel, the most commonly used source of energy in mankind’s future. Historically, Bent gave up that research, only for the world’s top scientists to return to it once the energy crisis hit melting point many years after Bent’s death, birthing the Svensson Generator, but far too late to prevent the dramatically advanced global climate change. Fay’s mission is to encourage Bent to return to his work and make sure the world changes for the better while it still can… only to be met with grunts, disbelief and apathy.

After this exchange, the game begins properly, seeing gameplay switch to controlling Fay as she narrates her side of the story and what has led her to Bent specifically. A narrative jump to Fay’s first venture into the past takes her to 2050 San Francisco where the world is already shown to have suffered from a lack of clean, renewable living. The city is mostly underwater, devoid of life and littered with destruction. The team’s hope was that 2050 would be as far back as they would need to jump, only to then discover that it wasn’t far enough and so they begin an investigation to decide where and when their last remaining jump should be to, given that power is incredibly limited and they have but one final shot.

It’s a fantastic use of narrative, telling the story from Fay’s perspective from 2500 to 2050 and then to the events preceding her first meeting with Bent, all the while remaining relative in time to Bent’s story. It’s not a new concept by any standard but it’s made to work perfectly, convincing you that the events you are playing are unfolding in real time, with an occasional interruption from Bent to remind you that the two characters are still sat in his kitchen in Norway. It’s only in the game’s fifth chapter that the story begins to progress beyond the practice of this storytelling technique, happily keeping the exposition slow while quietly setting you up for A New Beginning’s more intense final few chapters, ensuring that you are as passionate about saving the world as Fay is, cleverly tracked by Bent’s growing desire to similarly ensure a safer future for all.

Fay’s adventures are joined, for the most part, by the other members of her team and a journalist/helicopter pilot who is, quite literally, landed with Fay when she finally reaches the 1980s. Bent is similarly joined by his former team of scientists who have continued to work under his son, Duve, in Bent’s absence. It makes for a good sized cast, with Bent’s team entering at just the right point in the story, following the fairly desolate opening chapters of the game where interactions with other characters are kept to just a handful of names. A few additional characters pop up in the later stages, none of whom ever appear as throwaway stopgaps to help bridge the narrative or to just tie in a puzzle, and it altogether feels like a dutifully crafted, ecologically driven mystery story, without ever bowing to popular theories or attempting to press a political agenda.

The strength of the plot, however, is almost outweighed by the incredibly bad voice acting. At times it feels as though some of those responsible for voicing the characters have even gone to special lengths to ensure that the game is fit only to be seen and not heard, delivering emotionless dialogue from what is an otherwise well written script. For a long portion of the game I had myself convinced that the actor responsible for voicing Bent was the same actor who voiced the Agency Director in Crackdown, as though he were still playing the part of the Agency Director and that no one had had the heart to tell him he was actually working on something else now. Thankfully for Michael McConnohie’s reputation, it isn’t him and the realisation of this had me longing for him to take the voice actor’s place. Fay is probably guilty of worse, sadly, despite being the most endearing videogame character I’ve encountered since Jade in Beyond Good and Evil. Her entire story is fantastic and you can truly sympathise with her throughout, until she opens her mouth that is and, suddenly, you’re reminded of just how wrong the casting department got this one.

Dialogue is flat and bland, turning some situations into farce and pulling you clean out of the experience entirely whenever any emotive expression is attempted. With on screen subtitles present by default, you soon find yourself click-skipping through dialogue, opting to read the text instead of enduring the verbal torture. Sadly, this isn’t always the best option as the text will sometimes slip into the game’s native German and you’ll find yourself forced to sit through the, sadly, genre standard level of voice acting once more. Given that I was never offered the option of installing the game in any language other than English, I found this to be an especially strange bug to encounter in what is otherwise a technically proficient game.

It also appeared to me that sections of the game involving heavy narrative and exposition had been retrofitted with gameplay elements to keep the player engaged, done so without much thought or care given to the separation of audio tracks, which were presumably laid together originally as one continuous piece. Conversing with other characters, selecting topics to discuss and responses delivered during gameplay are generally fine, but interactive elements of the comic book styled cut-scenes were clearly never designed to support the same interaction, often cutting out a few seconds too late as the next response begins to play before you select it, highlighting what little influence you have in the way the scene will progress. I also found several instances where the on screen text differed from the voice actor’s script – who, it would appear, has decided to ad-lib some of the poorer translations with no effort made to account for it.

On another technical note, I was disappointed to discover that the game is restricted entirely to a 4:3 ratio, with no widescreen options available, meaning that anyone with a 16:9/16:10 screen will find thick black bars along both sides. You get used to it in no time, given the visual luxuries offered by what is left, but it still disappointed me to think that in 2011, no consideration had been given to the more widespread use of wider desktop monitors and laptop screens. I did have a tinker around with some .cfg files (which I’m sure Daedalic would wish remain untouched), but this understandably distorts the visuals and ultimately downgrades the experience. It is regrettable but it is something the player will have to live with.

From a gameplay perspective, A New Beginning is a bit of a Spanish minefield – a casual walk for the most part, but will eventually stop you dead in an instant. Each of the game’s eight chapters only allows access to a few different environments, never overwhelming you and keeping the player directed and focused on the tasks at hand. With everything being carefully hand drawn, it’s often difficult to tell what you’re able to interact with, resulting in a pixel hunt with the cursor, just waiting for it to illuminate blue so that you’re able to start experimenting with possible interactions once again. For the most part, every puzzle is easy to identify and  solve, although occasionally you will find yourself in the sort of scenario where despite knowing what it is you need to do, you just can’t seem to do it.

This is of course entirely bypassed once you discover that the game possesses a ‘reveal all’ button. Having sat through the tutorial, I had operated under the assumption that all of the information I needed to know had already been related to me, and that I was, quite simply, on my own from here. Discovering that the Spacebar was standing by, ready to light the screen up like a Christmas tree was both a welcome and unwelcome discovery. I was glad to finally discover that the game had such a feature, but thoroughly disappointed never to have been told that in the first place. On reflection, is fair to point out that I only discovered this after I had completed the game and that my experience would definitely have been a less stressful one had I known this. I’ll let you cast judgement on who failed whom in this instance.

These puzzle sections will punish you brutally with no tips given, no interruptions from Bent or Fay (which the narrative style is perfectly positioned for), instead providing only a frustrating reminder that this doesn’t go there or that you can’t do that. You can literally have an entire chapter’s worth of puzzles worked and mapped in your head, only for one crucial detail – which you can’t seem to spot – to stand defiantly in your way and moon you from behind nine inch thick Perspex. Once you eventually discover that missing detail, you’ll not smack your head and declare yourself a fool for being so naive, instead you’re more likely to save the game, close it down and consider going outside for a smoke, or to a shop to buy cigarettes and then to take up smoking. Just when you think you’ve got it all under control, the game will throw in one of its even more challenging puzzles to tax you with, dropping the need to move about the environment and focusing purely on one separate, standalone challenge.

As with some of the environmental puzzles, you can have these easily figured out in your head but, in practice, you just can’t find a place to begin from, or even make the supposed logic apply. The very first puzzle you’re given is the construction of a radio antenna, all packaged up in a tight and tidy briefcase. You’re not given any plans to construct it with (Ikea did not survive the ecological apocalypse I would assume) and common sense will only get you so far. Eventually, you’ll start to resort to anything, only to then spot the answer on the ‘Click to Close’ lid of the case you pulled all of the parts from. It’s not easy to make out, but you can see a sketch of what the assembled antenna should look like, and it’s easy to figure out what goes where from that. Within seconds, I had most of the rest of the antenna assembled, leaving only a few parts to tack on (maybe Ikea really does survive then). I knew where these parts had to go but the game wouldn’t let me attach them.  Only then did I discover that I’d missed a tiny switch which, after flicking, allowed me to make to two further adjustments…  only to then have the entire process grind to a halt once again. I was infuriated that the game would not let me complete the puzzle; it wasn’t an issue on my part of not being able to come up with the solution, but on the part of the game’s poor design that it simply wasn’t happy to acknowledge that I actually knew what I was doing. I conceded and hit the big red ‘Skip’ button that appears during these particular puzzles, hoping that I could draw a line under it and move on.

The game wasn’t done pissing me off, unfortunately. After clicking to skip, I was expecting to see the remaining puzzle completed and visually explain to me where I was going wrong. Of course, the developers decided that the best thing to do in this situation was to ‘flash-build’ the rest of the puzzle in a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ kind of way and then have the game instantly move on. I genuinely was made to feel like an absolute idiot. The game had all but smacked me square in the face as hard as humanly possible, taken the keys to my car, driven to my beloved girlfriend’s house and advised her of my inadequacy in antenna construction during future environmental apocalypses, encouraging her to leave me at the first possible convenience. Sure, it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, as I was now able to continue on with the game, but it still hurt to not know where I was going wrong.  I gather that this is pretty much a staple for the modern day point and click but for returning old school minds and new born fans of the genre such as myself, it’s a taunting reminder of our inadequacy that we could perhaps do without. In case my girlfriend is reading this, please don’t also expect me defuse a bomb with multiple fuse switches, navigate three water tanks of varying water levels or manage wattage restrictions with regards to jump starting a turbine. Also, I wouldn’t buy any furniture from Ikea, I doubt the warranty will hold up.

Thankfully, Daedalic have delivered a stellar orchestral score, which soothed me each and every time I became annoyed at the on screen action or irritated by the verbal inadequacy of its characters. The music in A New Beginning is every bit as wonderful as the art style and builds on the aesthetics of the game’s varied locations. There’s little repetition amongst the tracks and you never once find yourself tiring of any one piece. Each melody is appropriate to the mood and tempo of the chapters and without such diligence, I probably would have opted for the early nineties approach to point ‘n’ clicks and just survived with subtitles for the whole game.

Another saving grace is A New Beginning’s fine sense of humour. While it can get a little frustrating at times as you track backwards and forwards from screen to screen, trying anything on everything, only to be met with the same five variants on a theme of ‘no’, occasionally they drop in something that really makes you smile. During sections recounted by Fay, she’ll occasionally retort ‘I could try to do that, but of course I didn’t do that, that would be stupid’ or be interrupted by Bent, only to start a similar discussion between the two that will make you smile as they discuss the merits of a solution you thought was entirely acceptable. I also encountered a ‘Chef’ during the game’s fifth chapter who left me almost distraught when I realised I wasn’t going to get to spend more time with him. He was the one character I felt had really been nailed; completely insane and brilliantly funny, who I’ll say nothing more of for now, but look for his return in the Great GamingLives Annual Awards as my nominee for Best Minor Character. I also happened to spot someone partway through chapter three who brought yet another smile to my face; someone who would be little more than a detail in the setting for many, but a lovely nod for fans of Daedalic’s previous title, which brightens A New Beginning’s generally serious tone.