Team 17 recently had the idea of combining their Worms games with a crazy golf game. We gave it to Brendan so he could tell you Wot He Thinks.
What happened to us? You don’t call. You don’t write. You time your visit to GameCity festival so that you arrive on the very day that I leave. I’m in tears at this juncture. Genuine water-from-the-eyes tears. And then all of a sudden you want to play a round of golf? Really? Golf is the most barbarous of make-up games. If I wanted to walk around in an eerie emulation of the countryside with a club in my hand I would just wait until Skyrim comes out.
Taking account of your lack of reply, it dawns on me that you meant Worms Crazy Golf and that the original intention was for me to review it. Please accept my sincerest apologies, along with this side of ham as a good will gesture. I will of course testify to the quality of this game.
I have been ensnared by it for only an hour or so now and can already tell it is unmistakably a game both about worms and golf, in meticulously equal measure. You are of course aware of the Worms franchise, in which negotiations between many nations of invertebrates break down, leading to an interminable and ultimately apocalyptic war (I believe as an Orwellian allegory relating to the Sarajevo incident). Well, Worms Crazy Golf is a surreal spin-off from that most serious subject. It is quite refreshing and at the same time, faintly worrying. Europe is once again in turmoil, after all.
But I will not let it be said that a more traditional Worms game is preferable, even in the face of a contemporary international maelstrom. For traditional Worms games are passé. Many British citizens, among others, have simply lost their enthusiasm for the series, their joie de Holy Hand Grenade.
Although this is a new ‘angle’, the mechanical components of this spin-off are very faithful to the series. Charging the swing of your driver replaces the charging of a recoilless rocket. The golf balls can act in similar ways to the weapons and utilities of old. With these means, one can deploy parachutes, slow time or defy gravity mid-shot.
Meanwhile, the randomly generated battlefield – once a profound metaphor for the arbitrary and pointless nature of war – has become a precisely designed miniature golf course, adorned with sheep, geriatric women, worms, moles and (of course) many, many landmines. Just like a real golf course, I dare say! It is all very strange but at the same time it blends together well. Frankly, it is folly that the developer did not realise this possibility before, so suited to the majestic game of golf (I did not mean it when I called it barbarous, please forgive me).
Ah! But I have been over-writing again and I am unsure if you require more than a brief few notes. Please respond if you wish me to continue my appraisal of this most delightful of videogames.
Since I have not heard from you I can only assume that you are busy. I understand that the work of a videogames reporter involves a busy schedule but I am nonetheless disappointed that it does not seem to involve writing – that is to say, writing to your acquaintances.
However, it strikes me that you may wish for a more detailed analysis of the game you sent me, Worms Crazy Golf. Having devoted a few hours to it I can say that the inclusion of four 18-hole courses and many special challenges – wherein one must make the most accurate of trick shots to gain a place on the global leaderboards – give the game a
good decent lifespan, considering its low price.
There is also the ability to personally tailor one’s worm by purchasing golf clubs, special balls, voicebanks, et cetera. An assortment of fashionable (yet wholly superficial) hats is among the finest of these tailored goods and is something I am certain your readers will enjoy. The absence of a bowler and top hat will obviously be of concern only to the lower orders who know very little about appropriate golfing headgear. Ha ha ha. Excuse the jest. I know such proles aren’t among your readership.
I find myself at a loss of what else to mention. It seems to me a very solid game, even if it does not offer much by way of surprise.
Please write to let me know of any future correspondence you wish to receive. I am afraid you might have moved on from your address (either that or you are steadfastly ignoring me) so this will be the last time I write in the absence of a letter.
Your continued silence has left our friendship in irretrievable disrepair. The Greek Prime Minister has more money in his wallet than I have patience for this correspondence. It does not help that the game you sent me, Worms Crazy Golf, only reminds me of our ailing friendship. I shall be bold, Jim. I dislike many things about it.
I dislike the way the game is so blatantly and primarily designed for iPad users, and that this is clear from the cursor being a small pointing finger, like the finger of distrust that I often find myself pointing toward you in absentia.
I dislike that this undeserved pre-eminence of touchscreen controls has left the mouse absolutely redundant, in the same way that our mutual respect is now redundant.
I dislike that it suffers from that most ancient of syndromes whereby a single failed shot compels you to hit ‘Escape’ followed by ‘Restart’ over and over again because you know you cannot possibly make Par (I find myself locked in a similar loop as regards our association).
I dislike that the game wrests control of the camera from you, and zooms in to an inappropriate degree when you most need to see the whole of the course laid out before you – in the same way that these one-sided missives have ‘zoomed-in’ on your innate disregard for my feelings, making your betrayal – yes, betrayal – as clear as Alpine lake water (full of poisonous, invisible bacteria).
And finally. I dislike that the multiplayer – so engaging when played between friends at one terminal after tea or drinks – does not appear to have an ‘internet’ included. Meaning the only way I could ever have enjoyed a game of Worms Crazy Golf with you is if you were here, next to me, as true compatriots MAKE EFFORT TO BE.
In conclusion, after sustained hours playing your game, Worms Crazy Golf, I have decided to relinquish it to the library. It is novel, in its own annelid fashion, but it is not for me, Jim. Nor is this charade of a closeness between us.
This will be the last time you hear from me.
Can I review Renegade Ops, please?