Sunday Spotlight: Residual
Check out this mysterious exploration-survival game where you crash into a mysterious planet whilst uncovering the remains of a lost civilization
PAX West 2021 was its own adventure full of fun new games, exciting demos, and wonderful memories from Seattle. Among the dozens of games I previewed during the event, I was happily surprised about a totally unknown-to-me game that flew right under the radar.
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PAX West 2021 brought people from around the world to Seattle in celebration of games, community, and fandom. As my first PAX West, it was an absolute delight to be in a safe space full of care and love. Over the four days, I was able to play and see dozens of games and below are six of the super-fantastic ones that have me wanting more.
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I'll honestly be shocked if many people are old enough to remember this retro MS DOS game. Cosmo was such an adorable character, he loved cheeseburgers, and even helped out Duke Nukem!
Cosmo is a creation of id Software/Apogee/3dRealms
another installment of “the most exciting graduate experience”, Arctic Adventure is a rough sequel to Pharoah’s Tomb. like Pharoah’s Tomb bore little resemblance to any actual pharoah’s tomb ever, arctic adventure bears no resemblance to any actual arctic anything. but our brave graduate student continues to go on highly risky adventures to prove himself worthy of scholarship, this time fighting what I think might be yetis? He seeks diamonds suspended in air. He seeks pickaxes to break through ice boxes. He seeks buttons he may stand on so he may solve puzzles. he leaps over gulfs and spiky pits. Etc.
This is the first of the ancient 3D Realms games I can see actually being fun in a world I do not live in. It is a platformer, and a rather crude/fiddly one at that, which means I have little hope of/interest in finishing a stage, let alone finishing the game. But there are light puzzles and an order of operation to doing stuff. Also, there’s an overland map. You can choose, to a point, which stage you want to tackle. If you’re making zip progress on a stage, you can turn back and try another one. Neato!
I would tell you how to buy it, but I’m not actually sure how. Have its Steam page.
Joe Stagger gripped the wheel. He grit his jaw. His car was boxy and dark blue and cruddy, an ailing Chevy Caprice. Machine guns sprouted from its doors (hazardous every time he went for the external handles). But he was meaner than the machine guns. He wore an eyepatch. He wore a necklace of human teeth. He was here to race. He was here to kill.
The gal in the off-white Ferrari next to him was scowling at her left-hand mirror. The guy in the silver jeep ahead of him was scowling in his rearview mirror.
Joe Stagger out-scowled them all.
The light turned green. He hit the gas.
The asphalt was like glass. This was barely a simile. He promptly slid off the road and into a foot of mud. His three opponents skidded ahead, lighting each other up with bullets and screams of rage. They slipped about with uneasy traction, but never even grazed the mud.
Joe Stagger, feeling briefly inadequate, eased his car back onto the road.
His hands were loose on the wheel. With those hands, he coaxed the Caprice down a straight stretch of gleaming glass. He was behind, but with a mix of zen patience and ruthless skill, he would catch up. He’d turn his opponents into smears, he would.
The next turn approached. He gave the wheel the slightest nudge . . . and promptly skidded into a pool of acid, knocking a pedestrian in ahead of him.
No one with a great deal of consideration for human life entered a death race. Life was the cheapest of currencies, practically worthless! Every participant was nearly as hard and desperate as Joe Stagger himself, ready to eat their own grandmother for a handful of dollars and a pack of cigarettes.
Still, Joe Stagger hadn’t even seen the pedestrian. The casual murder was more like totally accidental manslaughter. And here he was, his car rotting under and around him. Joe tried to coax the car back on the road, but his tires were already nothing but squealing rims. He was stuck, and stuck good. The acid was nearly up to his windows. Best he could do was crack one of those windows, clamber on top of the roof, and leap to the road.
He proceeded to do exactly that. His landing was imperfect; the sole of his left shoe slid forward and left him dumped painfully on his ass, but he had survived the jump. He got to his feet. He smiled. Yes, this was a setback, maybe even a major setback, but he would survive. He just had to find a good exit point, one that didn’t involve acid, get over the fence. Flee. Get himself lost in the back alleys before either the racers or the sponsors found him.
The road behind him lit up with lights.
The racers were lapping him. Three cars, six machine guns, three drivers, hardbitten, three drivers with a thirst for blood that no number of wins, no number of crushed pedestrians could ever sate.
Joe Stagger, refusing the inevitable, turned to run.
Word Rescue, developed in 1992, still has much to teach us. Let me count the ways.
1. That at, um, a more advanced age, we are still rubbish at even basic platforming.
2. That the word “orange” in fact refers to the color “red”.
3. That you may know all the words, but bad guys will still spawn in mid-air and land directly on your head.
4. That you may know all the words, but you’d better be able to execute perfect jumps over raging waterfalls and toxic slime pits.
5. That life is the same basic literacy skills embedded in more and more convoluted environments. You may begin walking down the street pointing out “dog” and “cat” and “nurse” and, apparently, “wine”, but eventually you’ll be leaping across rooftops and crawling through floor after floor of castle basements. Eventually, you’ll be spelunking through abyssal caves. You’ll point your flashlight. “Bat”, you’ll say. “Stalagmite.” Or was it stalactite?
6. That you cannot overcome monstrous obstacles on your own, but must rely on a floating and capricious ally, indeed, a god in the machine, who can only assist you first stare down the monster with planted feet and steely gaze. It is not a metaphor. No, I guess by the very definition of a metaphor it is a metaphor.
7. That life is about the journey, not about saving and reloading until you get an optimal result. Or, well, saving and reloading at all.
Verdict: It’s for ages 4 to 10 plus. I don’t see many 4-year-olds having the patience for all this back and forth and up and down, but you never know. My niece played Art Academy for 10 minutes, Cooking Mama for 4 minutes, and Persona Q for 1 minute (before she decided it was way too scary). She could probably manage this for at least 2 minutes. On the other hand, an older kid/adult with nostalgic tastes might enjoy the climbing and jumping and collectibles more, but the educational benefits would be mostly lost on them. I don’t know. It’s kind of charming.
Where to get it: Word Rescue is 4.99 on Steam or you can nab it as part of the 32-game 3D Realms Anthology for 39.99. Or, if this impression has filled you with urgency for 1990s educational games and the earliest Duke Nukems, you can grab the 3D Realms Anthology as part of the Killer Bundle 6, available for a limited time only. et al.