About discussions spanning years: indeed, blogs are great. :-) That’s one of the things that bothers me the most about video game coverage right now: everybody wants to be part of a conversation, but that only happens right as a game is launched. I totally know where your tweet about whether it’s still worth discussing Braid was coming from, but it’s a completely ridiculous situation to be in!

The VGC is a good start for that: I’m really enjoying actively discussing old games with people. But with books, I can talk to people about books that were written decades (centuries, millennia) ago and that one or the other of us has read years ago. And I’m hoping that blogs can be part of moving the video game conversation in that direction: if we play enough old games, blog about them, and toss links back and forth, then we can have a conversation about games that spans years.

I too enjoyed the blurred lines between towns, dungeons, and the overworld. As oyu mention, dungeons like the Moon Cave have town-like elements (NPCs to talk to, for example), and towns such as Agata Forest have enemies roaming around.

Actually, now that I think about it, Twilight Princess did something similar with Snowpeak Ruins — the “dungeon” that’s actually some poor couple’s house. I think Okami takes it to another level, though.

Iroquois: I like your analysis of the battle system as a series of puzzles. Perhaps that’s why I sensed that combat was downplayed; it was a greater test of my memory and problem-solving than of my reflexes. That said, I didn’t mean to suggest that I don’t enjoy the combat or the dungeons; I just don’t consider them a central part of the gameplay, as I do with the Zelda series. I can imagine Okami without dungeons much easier than Ocarina of Time.

While the dungeons are not as ingeniously-designed as the Zelda dungeons are (and this is a pretty high standard) they do have their good moments along the way.

Also, although the combat is more segregated in Okami I really enjoyed the path they took. Not only did I enjoy the basic mechanics of jumping around and attacking (the speed and tempo are pleasingly viceral), but Okami also really has this great diversity in its enemy design (both visually and mechanically). Individual enemy types are kind of like “puzzles”– you need to draw on your repetoire of attacks and brush techniques to defeat each one. I thought this aspect of the game kept the combat very fresh.

Anyways, I just love the fact that you can level up in the game by feeding animals and growing flowers.

I get the feeling that Okami would like to assume this same level of audience familiarity, but without the strong reputation its faux-epic and whimsical characters come off as somewhat cloying. As the game progresses it becomes clear that it deserves our confidence, but the lack of familiarity still colors the experience.

Have yet to play Okami, but I wonder if we’d bring a different gravitas and emotional draw from it if we were better versed in the particular style of art upon which it draws.

Your comment about thematic ambitiousness resonates with me. I’ve had a post kicking around in my head since before I started this site about how the Zelda series manages to accomplish so much with such sparse material. There’s nothing I can point to as an example of stellar storytelling or characterization, but the minimalist sketches we get are well-suited to the game’s thematic underpinnings. (I’m thinking now of the scene where Saria gives Link her ocarina — we barely know her at that point, but I found that moment incredibly poignant.)

Okami takes a much brasher approach with its storytelling, and while that’s enjoyable in its own way it doesn’t evoke the same ineffable quality that the Zelda games do. Does that make sense? I know it’s a bit half-baked, but that’s why I haven’t written that post yet. :-)

In any case, I definitely see the growing melancholy in the Zelda series, most obviously in Twilight Princess. I don’t get that sense from Okami because of the generally lighthearted atmosphere, though there were a few somber moments (the scenes in Kamiki Village that precede the first battle with Orochi come to mind).

I definitely agree that Link inspires a stronger emotional connection that Ameratsu, but I don’t know what to make of that. Part of me wants to chalk it up to years of familiarity. If there is an ineffable quality to the Zelda games, though, maybe it manifests itself in the strength of its characters.

I wonder if you see a kind of creeping melancholy in the Zelda games that has grown over the evolution of the series? Okami has a bit of this too, often communicated through the music as I recall (it’s been awhile since I played it). It feels to me like the Zelda games are thematically more ambitious than Okami, but this may simply be a reflection based on my awareness of the series as a whole. As much as I loved Okami – adored it really – I didn’t feel as emotionally connected to Ameratsu as to Link. Curious to know if you had a similar or different experience.