Playing Catch-Up

There’s something wrong with most funny games. Anyone who isn’t a fan of Pixar movies—or hates them with a passion, like I do—probably hasn’t bothered to pick up the Pixar-esque Ratchet and Clank games. And I’m sure that the name alone of the critically acclaimed Looney Tunes: Duck Amuck was enough to alienate most hardcore gamers. The recently released Portal may have been one of the best-written, wittiest games in recent history, but it was also one of the shortest. And The Simpsons Game’s parody elements weren’t enough to make up for its lackluster gameplay.

But long, long ago—12 years ago, to be precise—there was a game that was not only laugh-out-loud hilarious, but also managed to be seriously awesome in every way possible. I’m talking, of course, about EarthBound, the 1995 Super Nintendo role-playing game (RPG) that made fun of, well, role-playing games.

It’s hard to describe exactly what EarthBound did right, so suffice it to say that it was just about everything. Not only did it relentlessly mock RPGs, but it also still stands out as one of the best RPGs ever made. EarthBound’s subversive sense of humor did nothing to interfere with its gameplay—indeed, EarthBound was actually responsible for a few interesting innovations.

Before you start accusing me of wearing nostalgia-tinted glasses, though, let me make it clear that I didn’t even play EarthBound until very recently. Up until two summers ago, most of my exposure to humor in video games had been limited to the occasional joke in otherwise serious affairs, or the cheap laughs in kid’s games. But I’d heard a lot about EarthBound and its massive cult following. In order to further my gaming education, it was obviously necessary for me to play it as soon as I could find the time.

Fortunately and unfortunately for me, that time came sooner than I had expected—only one week into the summer, I broke my foot in a freak reading accident (I’m serious) and was confined to my couch for a couple of months. So, I took advantage of my compromised situation, found a copy of EarthBound, and began to play.

As my life became more and more consumed by the then-11-year-old, bootlegged game, it began to dawn on me that I was enjoying EarthBound on two levels. First, as in all good RPGs, the gameplay was polished and fairly difficult, and the quest was lengthy. But imagine my shock when I discovered that, unlike most of the other RPGs I had played, which took themselves very seriously, EarthBound didn’t miss a single opportunity to poke fun at the very genre it was perfecting.

Rather than simply being drawn into the game because its story was compelling, I kept playing because I couldn’t wait to find the next outrageously over-the-top or bitingly subtle way in which the game critiqued the genre I loved so much.

For example, nearly all RPGs have dungeons, which in this context refers to labyrinthine, monster-filled areas that must be completed to move on. EarthBound includes the obligatory dungeons, but it also has a set of what can only be called meta-dungeons, all designed by a character named Brick Road.

Brick Road fills his dungeons with self-referential billboards. One of the numerous signs read, “Keep this board in mind,” while another asks, “What’s a dungeon? That is my eternal question.” In front of a forked path, a billboard says, “My statistics show about 70% of the people go to the right first.”

Whether it is a dog saying, “I’m being possessed by the spirit of the game designer,” or a random character’s advice that “You can buy everything except love, friendship, and exp. points”—the ubiquitous “experience” points that characters gain in RPGs by fighting enemies—EarthBound never forgets that it is, in fact, a game. And it never ceases to remind the player of this.

And yet EarthBound’s particular brand of humor doesn’t shut out RPG rookies either—in addition to the incessant in-jokes, much of the wit makes sense no matter how many video games you’ve played: “All the info is there, except for the info that isn’t there,” says one character, a librarian.

You’ll have to believe me when I say that I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of how gut-splittingly amazing EarthBound was, and still is. But in spite—and perhaps because—of how great it remains, playing EarthBound in this day and age has something of a bittersweet taste. While experiencing such a well-written (but still long) and funny (but still well-designed) game, one can’t help but wonder: why hasn’t there been a game like this for 12 years now? Even EarthBound’s 2006 sequel, out only in Japan, is rumored to lack much of the charm and effortless humor of its predecessor.

Are future video games doomed to be cheesy, humorless, or flawed? It’s possible. But, as EarthBound shows, that’s not through any fault of the medium. It’s not a question of if video games can be appropriately long, appealing, innovative, compelling, accessible, and funny at the same time, it’s a question of when today’s game designers will decide they care enough to make this happen again. And it may mean a drastic change—from a focus on the technology of the future to the creativity and charm of the past.