(Originally published on the LA Canvas website, back when our humble hobby was represented in that magazine.)
It has become all too easy to forget what a truly great gaming idea looks like. We have been so inundated with iterative shooters and action games that a weapon shooting flames can almost seem innovative. Over the course of four games, Tim Schafer and his Double Fine Productions have fought back against the me-too machine, gracing gamers with telekinetic campers, heroic heavy metal roadies, and other clever inventions. In short, they’ve got the creativity thing down pat. But as much as I admire their work, at times I wish they would lavish the same attention on gameplay that they do their worlds, characters, and stories.
In Stacking, we at last have the compelling gameplay experience to go along with all of those great Double Fine ideas.
And as ideas go, Stacking’s central one is a doozy. The world is populated by Matryoshkas, Russian nesting dolls of various sizes that can be placed one inside the other. Making their way in this world are the Blackmores, a family of chimney sweeps (and yes, dolls themselves) whose young members are imprisoned by an evil Baron when certain debts are left unpaid. It falls on Charlie, the runt of the family, to get the fam back together. His small size proves to be his greatest asset, as he alone can unlock the great potential of his people, by “popping” into dolls a size larger than himself, gaining the abilities of these new hosts, and using said abilities to solve puzzles.
These charmingly detailed dolls (and their abilities) come in all shapes and sizes: the wrench-wielding handyman who can unlock doors, the kid with a handful of balloons who can float up to high platforms, the flatulent slob who can clear a room of restaurant patrons with his, uh, essence. Not every ability is actually useful, however. Some are there just for fun; I’ve yet to find anything more meaningful than comedic value in jazz hands, for instance.
But then, in Stacking, comedy is its own reward. Straight up, this game is funny. And not the strained, aggressive, jokey “funny” that we’re used to seeing. The humor isn’t forced (bodily functions notwithstanding), but arises naturally from the absurd creations that people the landscape. It’s great fun to just set down the controller and gawk at the cavalcade of silly unfolding around Charlie; bullies punching hapless bystanders, a randomly Yarr-ing pirate, a Matryoshka production of Hamlet. Stacking’s world is a kaleidoscopic sandbox, a GTA where the guns are crayons, the perp a snot-nosed toddler.
The magnificently realized universe also enriches the gameplay in a fundamental way. The fatal flaw of the modern adventure game has always been what I call the Brick Wall: that sensation of equal parts befuddlement and frustration that hits you when you just cannot solve an essential puzzle. Rather than force you to retrace your steps and initiate conversation with unhelpful characters for the umpteenth time, Stacking invites you to slap a goofy disguise on a security guard. Which option sounds more fun?
And that’s just it: fun. In contrast to some of Double Fine’s other extremely admirable efforts, Stacking never really stops being fun. (Okay, there’s one extended sequence near the end of the game that relies a little too much on backtracking, but it’s not too much of a buzzkill.) The greatest strength of the puzzles is their ability to be solved multiple ways; solve them once to advance the story, but book a return trip to see all that the game has to offer. And if all the brain teasing proves to be too much, there are new dolls to find, greater mischief to incite, some fresh delightful surprise to discover just around the corner. Stacking has a lot of love to give, and it’s nearly impossible not to love it back.
Pixels and Pynchon 