Robot Alchemic Drive (Gigantic Drive in its native Japan), an overlooked Sandlot gem from early
in the PlayStation 2’s lifespan, puts players in control of a giant robot
controller. You read that correctly: the
player is not given control of a giant robot ,but instead given control of the
one who controls a giant robot. For adequate
enough reasons in a videogame, Earth is under attack by giant biomechanical
aliens and naturally the only defense against them is a big ol' mecha. Since this is a Japanese game, the only people with command of a giant robot are three high schoolers.
The melodramatic story is more or less an excuse to justify the
gameplay.
Once past the wrapper that is the game's narrative, the player is
presented with the inner sweetness that is a gameplay experience unlike anything
else (except of course for other Sandlot games involving robots). The crux of this gameplay relies heavily on one of
gaming's essential yet oftentimes under-appreciated aspects: controls. What the game does splendidly is convey that
you are in command of a space-age robot with incredible destructive capabilities This is done by having the Meganite, what the mechs are called, operate
via remote control, and wouldn't you know it--that controller is a PS2 DualShock.
An argument can be made that the best controls are those that do not remain in the consious thoughts of the player and seem to fade away. Yet Robot Alchemic Drive flies in the face of that line of thinking. At no point did I forget that I was holding a controller. Maybe this can be attributed to its simulator-esque approach. The best way to translate how this control of a controller controls (the Xzibitness of that phrases is not lost on me) a giant robot is that it is a 1:1 scale controller that forgoes the standard macro-like inputs found in most games. Direct control of the limbs are given to the player in a combination of different inputs. The legs are bound to the shoulder buttons with R1/L1 stepping forward and R2/L2 doing the reverse; walking is then an alternating series of R1 and L1 presses which undermines the now common assumption that tilting a stick directs your character in that direction. The arms are under the dominion of the analog sticks, and different stick motions result in different punches/attacks. This understandably cumbersome control scheme is partnered with equally lumbering iron giants that, while incredibly responsive to player input, still move without an ounce of grace, making it a game very different from Z.O.E. This might not be much of an issue in a Final Destination no-items match, but when you are trading blows with a kaiju in the middle of a populated urban center each misstep is another pricey insurance claim and potentially more lives lost. Which makes the player think carefully about each movement as well as plan one step ahead, as the consequences weigh heavily on the conscience of an ally of justice.
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| QWOP would've been a lot more fun with giant robots |
An argument can be made that the best controls are those that do not remain in the consious thoughts of the player and seem to fade away. Yet Robot Alchemic Drive flies in the face of that line of thinking. At no point did I forget that I was holding a controller. Maybe this can be attributed to its simulator-esque approach. The best way to translate how this control of a controller controls (the Xzibitness of that phrases is not lost on me) a giant robot is that it is a 1:1 scale controller that forgoes the standard macro-like inputs found in most games. Direct control of the limbs are given to the player in a combination of different inputs. The legs are bound to the shoulder buttons with R1/L1 stepping forward and R2/L2 doing the reverse; walking is then an alternating series of R1 and L1 presses which undermines the now common assumption that tilting a stick directs your character in that direction. The arms are under the dominion of the analog sticks, and different stick motions result in different punches/attacks. This understandably cumbersome control scheme is partnered with equally lumbering iron giants that, while incredibly responsive to player input, still move without an ounce of grace, making it a game very different from Z.O.E. This might not be much of an issue in a Final Destination no-items match, but when you are trading blows with a kaiju in the middle of a populated urban center each misstep is another pricey insurance claim and potentially more lives lost. Which makes the player think carefully about each movement as well as plan one step ahead, as the consequences weigh heavily on the conscience of an ally of justice.
