Today's game perfectly fits into the category Short & Sweet, but with the emphasis clearly on short. Like, 20 seconds short. It's Dinorace, also known as Dinorace 64 or The Great Dinorace 64:
The unassuming intro screen not only sends digital greetings to various people and entities, it also displays a German scroll text that relates the background story to the player. Here's a summary:
In the distant future, dinosaurs have become de-extinct. Mankind is so awestruck by this contemporary miracle that it forces the Cretaceous creatures to compete in fights and foot races. Anyone who owns an Intercomputer TV3 can join these live spectacles from the comfort of their home and get remote command over one of the "participating" dinosaurs. The latest and most popular event is a race taking place on a battle asteroid (?) with its weather permanently set to rainstorms. The frequent thundering and flashing makes sure that all dinosaurs are completely scared out of their little minds while running, which is always a hoot to watch.
Admittedly, the original text isn't quite as sarcastic, but it's very clear that the author is going for an intentionally ridiculous premise. The jolly tune that's playing during this intro further manages to underline the game's flippant tone.
Pressing fire loads the main game which opens with this low contrast block of text. It's written in the style of a TV presenter welcoming the viewers to the 4th Intergalactic Dinorace on the battle asteroid Delagon 12.
I'm not familiar with the concept of a battle asteroid, so I can only speculate about its purpose. Maybe it is used as a training ground for space marines, or as a futuristic paintball arena for rich people. Whatever its initial function, in 2127 it is the race track for a bunch of prehistoric reptiles.
My former best time, 19 seconds, is displayed at the bottom. It's confusingly described as "today's" record time, which isn't true, as the best time is stored on the disk and thus can be a record established years ago. In any case, I intend on setting an all-new record today.
Forget about curved displays, 4K, and UHD. In the future, TV sets are standard-equipped with a joystick that allows viewers to interact with live shows. Wouldn't it be neat if we already had that technology? Imagine taking control of talk show guests you can't stand and forcefully moving them off-screen. Or relive your Summer Games memories by assisting a pole vaulter during the actual Olympics, and then blame any failures on input lag.
In Dinorace you can send five different commands to your dinosaur. What they do is explained in the above screen, but let's just skip to the race, and I'll demonstrate the controls as they become relevant.
The game opens with this view of the asteroid's surface, showing a surprising amount of greenery in the background. I guess some terraforming must've taken place, which created a breathable atmosphere and controllable weather conditions.
The dinosaur hobbles into view, casually jumps over a rock, and comes to a halt at the starting line. Note that it does all that without needing any input from me, the TV3 viewer.
The game doesn't tell me the lizard's name, nor its gender, which is a missed opportunity to build a bit of a relationship between the player and the green creature on the screen. I'm going to call my dinosaur Desmond.
I can ignore the text message and hold the joystick to the right without pressing fire, which results in Desmond walking in place. I guess what I'm doing here is the equivalent of revving the engine right before the start of a car race. Instead of a roaring motor, all I get to hear are the heavy footsteps of a prehistoric beast.
And we're off! Right from the start, there's a trick to save some time: I have to push up to make Desmond jump over the starting line which consists of a row of rocks and then immediately push right to have him run without a delay.
It's interesting to note that Desmond still jumps over rocks, even if I forget to press up or if my timing is off. However, if he has to jump on his own accord, the dinosaur stops right after the leap for a brief moment and grins into the camera, as if telling me "I did that one myself, see?". Issuing the command at the correct time prevents the dinosaur from stopping. Here are both cases:
Already you can see that, even though I'm giving the commands, Desmond retains his personality and doesn't simply become a mindless slave.
This becomes further evident just a couple of meters later when Desmond simply stops running and commences to whine at the camera while ignoring all your commands. The sound effect that's playing manages to be annoying but also somewhat endearing at the same time.
This is Desmond's way of telling you that he wants a treat. And not just any treat, no. You can leave the Schmackos™ in your pocket because what Desmond needs to get him going again is the salty taste of salmiak drops. Pressing the joystick down tosses a piece of hard candy into the lizard's mouth. The game doesn't mention where this somewhat outlandish fondness for salty licorice is coming from, nor is it clear if all dinosaurs share the same affinity. Let's just pretend that salmiak drops are like catnip for bipedal lizards of the future.
The eating animation is quite adorable. The flavor of salty licorice is apparently so intense that Desmond has to crouch down for a moment while swallowing the treat.
After the dinosaur's craving has been satiated (at least for the moment), Desmond once again obeys my command to continue running to the right.
But then he comes across an obstacle that's too wide for a single jump, and he has to do the second jump on his own. After that exertion, he apparently starts taking notice of the constant thundering going off around him, and fear takes over.
It is widely known that a scared dinosaur curls into a ball and starts singing a lullaby to itself. Desmond does exactly that. I don't recognize the melody, but I'm admittedly not too familiar with prehistoric nighttime songs. I have to say, he has an amazing vocal range which effortlessly reaches deep, guttural grunts and high-pitched notes.
As cute as a singing dinosaur might be, we are here to see him run. Pressing the fire button unleashes the motivational whip which whacks the lizard out of his apprehension. That probably sounds more brutal than it is depicted in the game: The whip isn't visible, nor does it make any sound when it is used. The only feedback I get is that Desmond stops singing to himself and instead resumes the race.
With that we've encountered all commands I can give my dinosaur except for one: If I hold the joystick to the left, I can make Desmond stop. I don't think there is ever a need to do that. We're trying to go fast, after all, not to stop and enjoy the scenery.
Besides, we are almost at the end of the race anyway. Let's see how well Desmond does during the last few meters:
Cool, he made it without any additional nervous breakdowns or sudden cravings for salty candy. He curled into a ball again once he had crossed the finish line, but I think that was just out of exhaustion. Great job, Desmond! You smashed the previous record by one second and one tenth.
And that's the whole game. Once I press fire, Dinorace jumps back to the title screen and displays the new record. I'd have liked to get some acknowledgment that I set a new record, but the game is crushingly indifferent to my feat. I hope Desmond at least got a cartload of salmiak drops for being such a good boy.
CONCLUSION
Dinorace is a very short game. In fact, it's the shortest game I've played on this blog so far, and I predict it'll retain this honor for a long time. Even if the player completely fails to control their dinosaur, the race ends after 100 seconds. Of course, the point of the game is to play the race many times and try to finish with a new record. The layout of the race track always stays the same, and even the dinosaur's reactions have the same timing. If you compete against a friend by taking turns, this ensures that both players experience the same conditions. On the other hand, once you know the track in and out, there isn't much replay value to be had.
The controls are simple and work as intended. There is a slight but clearly intended feeling of disconnect, as the dinosaur doesn't just blindly follow the player's every command. When I started playing the game, I had to familiarize myself with the lizard and get to know its temper. In that regard, the game succeeds admirably.
Visually, Dinorace isn't exactly a prize winner, but there's at least some parallax scrolling, and the dinosaur's animations are done well enough to give it some personality. It's a bit odd that only half of the screen is used for the race track. I can't shake the feeling that there was a simultaneous two player mode in the works, but it didn't make it into the final game for one reason or another.
The two tunes that play in the intro and the title screen are pleasant enough. There is a bit of a mood shift from one track to the other. While the intro greets you with an upbeat melody, the title is accompanied by oddly ominous music. The game itself features sound effects only, but they are very well done and make good use of the SID chip's filter capabilities. The dinosaur's grunts and wails are quite a thing to behold, and they may very well be totally accurate. Scientists are still uncertain how the lizards of yore sounded like.
From the name Saurien Software I get the impression that the author, Frank Abbing, intended to create more dinosaur/lizard/dragon related games under that label, similar to Jeff Minter's Llamasoft titles that feature various ruminants. Unfortunately, as far as I can tell, this was Abbing's last production for the C64.
Dinorace is the first racing game I've encountered on this blog. In light of the many clones of well-known games I've come across so far, Dinorace feels refreshingly original. Yes, it's short and probably won't provide entertainment for more than a couple of minutes. However, it's a title that has some charm and an identity of its own. There is humor in the text descriptions as well as in the game itself. Particularly the dinosaur's reactions still got a smile out of me. If you feel like spending a couple of minutes racing an extinct species and feeding it salty liquorice, you could do worse than playing Dinorace.
No comments:
Post a Comment