economy

Biased Notes Vol. 5: Sid Meier’s Pirates! (2004)

by Jed Pressgrove

Note: Observations below are based on the 2004 remake of the 1987 original.

1. Meier’s revered simulation includes everything from sword fighting to treasure hunting, all in the name of building fame. What sticks out the most is the puerile focus on wooing governors’ daughters. A pirate game’s objectification of women is hardly surprising, but unlike The Witcher series, Meier emphasizes awkward courtship rather than lustful build-ups to sex. To have a chance at furthering a relationship with a governor’s daughter, you must engage in a ballroom-dancing minigame (after creating enough of a reputation so that the woman notices you in the first place). Interestingly, to succeed as the pirate, you must follow the lead of the daughter in the ballroom, clicking the correct sequence of dance moves as she moves faster and faster. The idea subverts the game’s main thrust as a male power fantasy. Plundering, sinking ships, and the like suggest domination through one’s strength and wit, but the ballroom scenes imply that you must be willing to be instructed to impress the upper class, or you can’t reach the ultimate level of fame. I could see this requirement being a turnoff to many wannabe alpha males. (Admittedly, I could also see any person being turned off by the contrived nature of the whole shebang.)

2. So many things in Pirates! are predictable to the point where it’s hard to feel like you’re on an adventure. If you can find one buried treasure, you will have a good idea of how to find more buried treasure (buy a map in a tavern, follow directions to the proper landmass, walk on land and find the treasure based on obvious landmarks). If you see one French governor, you’ve seen them all. And so on and so on. Thus, the details that make the world of Pirates! seem alive tend to stand out. For example, spice is a good you can sell to merchants for gold, but the going price for spice varies across cities, so it can be worth it to sail a little farther to make more of a profit in another place. This economic variation might not seem like much (it’s certainly not as exciting as the trade economy in the second world of Secret of Evermore), but I welcomed anything in the game that could make me think a little more about my decision-making.

3. I didn’t play Pirates! long enough to experience this (I only got to play it at a friend’s for a while), but as time passes, you become a weaker pirate, and eventually you must retire. Because the goal of the game is to accumulate as much fame is possible, this element doesn’t make the simulation any less of a power fantasy than, say, Far Cry 5, but it does make me wonder about the possibilities of an aging mechanic in action games. It could be interesting to see a developer tie this quantitative factor into more explicit storytelling.

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Dominique Pamplemousse Throws a Pity Party

by Jed Pressgrove

Dominique Pamplemousse in “It’s All Over Once the Fat Lady Sings!” encourages political correctness from those in the know, not empathy and understanding. As the Independent Games Festival awards get closer, game critics make sure that nominees like Dominique Pamplemousse receive enough hype not only to legitimize the IGF competition but also to trumpet their sensitivity to genderqueer folk. Meanwhile, the ignorant remain ignorant and perhaps even indignant.

Developer Deidra Kiai should be commended for the work and risks involved in the creation of a point-and-click musical. Almost everything, including the claymation and singing, was done by Kiai, though the game’s presentation sometimes suffers from a lack of comedic timing. Dominique Pamplemousse also admirably forgoes the process featured in adventures like The Shivah. For example, you instantly move from location to location, so there’s no silly map to speak of.

The game’s cynicism, however, nearly eliminates its technical and creative charm. The pretense of being “about gender and the economy” is suited for headlines rather than gamer consensus. The first mistake is making genderqueerness a bad punchline. As a protagonist, Dominique Pamplemousse doesn’t reveal anything insightful about gender; the character is merely an annoyed victim whose complaints fail to articulate what the choir (self-congratulatory critics) already knows. To some people who don’t mind the choice of a men’s or women’s restroom, Dominique might come across as a weird joke. One could attack people for this perspective, but the game fulfills dismissive attitudes on both sides as opposed to shedding light on the limitations of binary thinking about gender.

Domininque Pamplemousse also wants pity for the struggling working class, but its cynical approach lacks perspective. Economic deprivation is portrayed as a given, not a result of complex environmental and social factors. The story implies that the protagonist could have been economically secure if a college idea hadn’t been stolen, but the game’s usage of Auto-Tune singing is depressingly pathetic, whether as a joke, plot device, or commentary on identity. The game’s two endings deliver the ultimate bleak message that morality and happiness are impossible to maintain in tough times — just more sentimentality for a spoiled American society that confuses the Great Recession with the Great Depression.

While Dominique Pamplemousse has its endearing moments (such as the bagpipes joke and the ending credits sequence), all of its cynicism adds up to a plea for pity, a surefire way to kill laughter and prevent catharsis. The game lacks the hope and dreams of Grand Titons and keeps many in the dark about social realities that aren’t going to be obvious to everyone.