Friday, June 7, 2019

Paper Mario: Sticker Star



To claim that I "hate" any game adorned with Mario's name -- one that personally translates to "God" in no less than thirteen different languages -- is not an action I'd ever take lightly. Not that any mainline games haven't ever fallen below expectations or there haven't been less-than-stellar spin-offs, but my reverence for Nintendo's mascot doesn't stop at his being responsible for getting me into gaming; nay, it's how both the character and his endless gaming catalog represent, to me, wholesome appeals into innate accessibility. However, as crass as I fear such overt distaste would come across, it is said devotion to the portly plumber that requires further diligence and honest criticism on my end, for I cannot possibly turn a blind eye to whenever my idol takes a misstep lest he ever grow arrogant with pride. With both respect and duty in mind, that is precisely why I declare the following:

I hate Paper Mario Sticker Star. I abhor it as if it killed my cats, that it's the source of the suffocating nihilism greeting me every morning with further news of climate change and Orwellian fascism, and that, yes, as if it's the primary culprit behind stealing my pencil sharpeners in 5th Grade. That I'm hardly alone in this opinion is my lone sense of comfort: while the game isn't without its ardent defenders, Sticker Star has drawn no sense of passionate ire following its release; enough, even, to make me steer clear for years after launch, and yet I still wasn't ready for when I finally sat down with it. To claim it is Nintendo's worst modern product might be disingenuous in a world where something as anti-consumer as Animal Crossing: amiibo Festival exists, yet even that vile, tone-deaf consumerist filth has something resembling an easily-gleaned purpose. (That, and well, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones with how they turned its failed amiibo line around with Animal Crossing: New Leaf's Welcome amiibo update.) Sticker Star has nothing to justify its impenetrable design, let alone be worthy of the Mario brand: we may laugh at a line or two, ooh and aah at some shiny colors courtesy of 3DS's 3D feature, but any fleeting joys are instantly smothered by patently obstructive puzzles, actively mocking the very ideas of telegraphs and progression as we rack our brains at how anyone in development thought this could provide entertainment.



The measured critic within is attempting to rein me in, taking a deep breath before his inevitable lecture: "No, what you played was merely a half-baked spin-off; stop with the hyperbole and move on with your life." Yet even he balks upon revisiting the game's infamous Iwata Asks column, wherein it's revealed Shigeru Miyamoto and developer Intelligent Systems took elaborate steps not merely to further distance Sticker Star from the original Paper Mario formula, but purposefully wedging its setting within the mainline Mario canon. The pain is even more raw knowing what I do now in merely observing those who had been with Mario since his inception and those involved with the genesis of Super Mario RPG and Paper Mario patting each other on the back for offensively lazy incorporation of Toad NPCs -- in that we're expected to recognize individual members of an identical race merely through color and personality -- fundamentally broken gameplay concepts and learning the entirely wrong lessons from Wii's questionable departure in Super Paper Mario. Nintendo's no stranger to being called out on out-of-touch decisions, but it's a morbidly fascinating window into them gathering around and actively celebrating a compromise no one wants. (Not the least in the closing statement from Satoru Iwata -- bless his soul -- insisting there's "no way it could be no fun.")

It's the Toad thing that's really emblematic of Sticker Star's woes, as gradual progress into Sticker Star unveils a sobering reduction of scope and stakes. It is one thing, as director/scenario writer Taro Kudo elaborates, to focus upon "little episodes" as fitting for a handheld iteration -- I'd like to think 2013's Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon succeeded on the very same console to the extent where it surpassed its "just fine" progenitor. Nay, what I take issue in is a complete dearth of imagination and creativity into storytelling, world theming and scenario, all which draw upon tired New Super Mario Bros. archetypes. Oh, there are occasional flashes of brilliance -- a familiar quiz show here, a singing Birdo there -- but such vague inklings speak to how Sticker Star aggressively pursues this conformity to a mundanely banal fault. It is concerned with only remaining a cliche; nothing more, nothing less.

This isn't to say Paper Mario hadn't previously fallen prey to narrative stumblings -- Super Paper Mario and even the masterful The Thousand-Year Door deliberately halted pacing via cynical RPG parodies (the General White goose chase and Mimi's hamster wheel spring to mind) -- but when juxtaposed to how older games giddily transformed Mario canon into wildly playful concepts (Mafia Piantas, anyone?) all the while confidently introducing new characters who successfully flesh out a familiar world, it's unfathomable how neutered Sticker Star is. The villains are its most primary offender -- the bosses are just giant versions of default enemies or Super Mario Sunshine cameos, and Bowser, in what any Mario RPG fan would recognize as a war crime, is rendered mute; a silent Tom antagonizing Mario's Jeffrey. Whatever issues Miyamoto had with Kensuke Tanabe's treatment of Mario's arch-nemesis remains unknown, but I cannot imagine any fate worse than this worthless devaluation. That we were expected to accept any of this as the new norm for Paper Mario is ridiculous.

And that's not the least to say of how it actually plays. Detractors don't hesitate to brand Sticker Star as a faux-RPG, but I liken it more to as an adventure game wedged with half-hearted RPG mechanics. The two genres are constantly at war in striving over mediocrity -- whereas the adventure game presents the blandest of narratives and impedes progression with overtly obtuse puzzles (typically involving "Thing" stickers, which we'll get into shortly), the RPG further wastes our time with self-defeating mechanics in consumable "battle" stickers. For the sake of further pointless experimentation, experience points have been scrubbed in favor of collectible attacks -- be they Jump, Hammer, or whatever -- littered across the world, be they stuck to walls or hidden in those familiar ? Blocks. As many fellow detractors have noted, this serves no purpose outside of discouraging battle encounters; yes, we get more coins and even some additional stickers out of it, but if I can already farm both through other means, why bother? I don't earn anything I already can't access otherwise, let alone any staple level-up bonuses.


One could say Sticker Star's economy feeds into consume-and-gather for the sake of balancing Mario's sticker-book, but when I'm already struggling to conserve specific "Thing" stickers -- everyday objects presented as foreign, 3D material within the Paper Mario world -- in fear of future bosses and potential puzzles, it just goes to show how ill-thought out this system is. I'm not exaggerating when Sticker Star utilizes them as an elaborate goose chase, purposely hiding them in previous levels when we have no telegraphs or indications to backtrack otherwise. (Check out VentureBeat's example of a tornado puzzle) Any amusement derived from clever solutions involving Goats or Lucky Cats are instantly scrubbed by the immensely tedious process of finding and converting them into stickers, the dread of encountering a boss when we lack the proper tools to take them out, or, worst, resetting the game when we realize we we don't have the proper Things to beat them. It's an inanely stubborn practice it persists right up until the very end, where the final boss fight demands use of Things we have absolutely no way of predicting to use.

"Oh, but the Pokey boss takes place in a stadium subtly implying a baseball game, and the game says "Play Ball!" so it's obvious you need the Baseball Bat!", one may say. A fair point, but consider these scenarios: what if, had I hadn't wised up to Sticker Star's asinine game, and used the bat prior? What if I had the bat ready, but unwittingly unleashed it too early, having no way to predict I have to sit and wait until it fully emerges from the ground? Either way, the result is the same: the boss's HP is insurmountable with regular stickers, I'm left with no choice but to reset the game, and endure further trial-and-error until I inevitably resort to online walkthroughs. I'm not ashamed to admit I frequently peruse guides otherwise -- I'm a grown man with adult responsibilities and don't have all the time in the world to run around aimlessly; hence why, in my infinite benevolence, I've gotten into the business of writing them. But Sticker Star takes it to another level entirely -- I'm forced to resort to them in nearly every single level at the expense of any satisfaction or well-earned interactivity on my own part. Much as I'd like to blame myself for this failure, no, it lies upon Intelligent Systems for assuming, say, I'll have the Sponge sticker for taking on Gooper Blooper, when exactly to use it, and magically foretelling it'll shift purpose from a shield into a poison-reflective substance.

For something so deceptive and ready to mock us at every turn, it's disconcerting how Sticker Star's production values mask such intent -- the graphics are familiarly charismatic and adhere well to the arts-and-crafts motif, Intelligent Systems' band of composers provide an engagingly lively soundtrack (are those real instruments I hear?), and for as worthless as the story is, the Treehouse localizers do their best with their wordsmith wizardry. In an actual Paper Mario game, I can also imagine new concepts in an overworld map -- the "level" system in this and Super Paper Mario are hardly ideal, but I won't pretend The Thousand-Year Door didn't have issues with back-tracking -- and Paperization -- wherein Mario "fits" objects within empty voids -- would respectively adhere to convenience and some level of imaginative play.

But I cannot pretend this polish implies any masquerade of a functional game. Paper Mario: Sticker Star is not merely an affront to Paper Mario, an RPG series priding itself on attracting beginners and veterans alike -- it's a betrayal to Mario, whose modus operandi entirely revolves around intuitive accessibility. And be it Miyamoto, the developers at Intelligent Systems, or whoever else, I blame not any one specific individual; nay, it's a complete failure across the board, with everyone involved growing so occupied with their own preconceptions of Paper Mario that -- and I say this at the risk of deriding their passion and work ethic -- they neglected to consider any reasonable reception in both expectation and approach to play. Consequently, we bear witness to a harrowing Frankenstein, stitched together to an dysfunctional imbalance of phoned-in restrictions and indecipherable purpose in spite of gussied-up fashion. That the must disappointing product in Nintendo's 40-some year history of gaming refuses to respect the player is nothing but a mockery of their most beloved property.

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