There are now two reasons to own a PlayStation 3: Noby Noby Boy and Heavy Rain.
Seeing as I’ve already spent half a post talking about the latter, it’s time to examine The Young Man of the Twin Nobs.
But first, a little personal history. It’s been about 10 years since I was given a Christmas gift of a Nintendo 64 console and a handful of games (Banjo-Kazooie, GoldenEye 007 and The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time). Now, when I was a child, I was, like many children, stupid. Although I had figured out by this point that consoles needed to plug into a television to work and didn’t communicate via power sockets,1 my grasp on reality and its associated concepts was tenuous at best. So, when I fired up what critics had called The Best Game Ever, I was content to roam the Kokiri Forest, talking to the various inhabitants, walking, jumping, collecting rupees, picking up rocks, throwing rocks, more jumping, listening to Navi and so on without continuing to the rest of the game. I was vaguely aware that there was more to explore — I had, after all, read the manual which talked about all kinds of items that I didn’t have, like, for example, a sword — but that didn’t bother me. Besides, there was this one location that had a frightening boulder scaring me off.
I should probably point out that I have a terrible fear of things in video games. Like monsters. And insects. And glitches. And polygons. To this day, I won’t go near games like Half-Life or Bioshock. I’d always disable items in Super Smash Bros. Melee in fear of getting an appearance from a Like Like or Redead. And Banjo-Kazooie is still the scariest video game that I’ve ever played. Scarred me for life, it did; after one particularly shocking scene (played by Brother whilst I watched) I was reduced to rolling on the corridor floor, trembling, whimpering “they’re crawling on me”. True story. But, as usual, I digress.
The point that I’m making is that when one plays a video game for the first time, be it as a child, a curious parent or a technophobic senior, one doesn’t care about advancing to the next level, unlocking any of the achievements or upgrading one’s character. One cares only about having fun. And this, I believe, is the essence of what a video game should be. The moment that one is forced to do something in a video game, it stops being fun. When it stops being fun, it stops being a video game. It becomes a job.
In my mind, a true video game does not force the end user to do anything. It may gently guide the player to the next destination or give the player some ideas on what to do next, but my favourite games are the ones that offer freedom. Burnout Paradise is one of my most favourite games of recent years, and it’s not hard to see why: The player is given a car and placed in a city. And that’s it. Of course, there are objectives; you can unlock different cars, you can compete in races, you can discover hidden locations, you can perform stunts — and, in my personal favourite mode, you can slam into other cars, shutting them down and sending them to the junk yard. But it’s all optional. There aren’t any menu screens between you and the city. You can start the game and just drive. No obligations. No messages telling you off for going the wrong way. No game has better captured the pure joy of driving since the original OutRun.
It’s important to note that a game like this can only work properly if it’s coded properly. For me, a game needs to feel good to play, to experience. Sloppy programming and poor execution have ruined too many exciting game concepts. Staring at the word “Loading…” on an otherwise blank screen is not fun.
So what of Noby Noby Boy, then? A software toy criticised for its lack of focus? A game that many would describe as an “ungame”?
Noby Noby Boy has been misunderstood. So-called “hardcore” gamers have looked at it, maybe tried it for a while, before moaning that there’s no point to the game and going back to playing Call of Duty or something. But they’re missing the point. The fact that there is no point is the point. Wait… No, let me rephrase that.
Designer Keita Takahashi (also the man behind the Katamari franchise) has stated that when he’s done designing video games he would like to design playgrounds. And that’s exactly what he’s done with Noby Noby Boy. Although he’s stated that he’s not entirely happy with the finished product due to lack of budget, the game nonetheless is a well-produced physics-based playground. The player is given control of BOY, briefed on the controls and left to explore the rest of the game for themselves. The graphics are beautiful in their simplicity. The soundtrack is diverse, consisting of a range of pieces played by a single instrument, further pushing the simplicity idea. The control experience is great (Noby Noby Boy being the first time that I’ve ever used a PlayStation controller for more than a few seconds); barring some problems with the L3 and R3 buttons (which may or may not be the fault of the controller) it really adds to the experience, really giving one the sensation of space and free movement. And although there are Trophies2 to earn and an overarching long-term worldwide goal of stretching enough for GIRL to reach other planets, that’s not what makes the game engaging.
Noby Noby Boy takes one back to a very primal stage of their gaming life. Much like the fun I had exploring Kokiri Forest in Ocarina of Time, Noby Noby Boy presents players with an infinite number of randomly generated worlds to play with. This is a game that perfectly embodies the spirit of a child given their first video game. This is a game that shuns obligation; a game that gives the player complete freedom to play and have fun. Let me emphasize that. Play and have fun. How many games today allow one the pure, unadulterated joy of playing and having fun? Sure, you have open-world sandbox-type games like the annoyingly prolific Grand Theft Auto series, but few of them — perhaps none of them — are as much of a joy to experience as Noby Noby Boy. In this sense, Noby Noby Boy’s focus on fun pushes it much closer to my definition of a pure video game than any other.
So, if you, like me, are tired, disgusted or put off by the complex, miserable, unrewarding nature of hardcore gaming, or just looking for something a little different, Noby Noby Boy may just prove to be one of the most happy, fun and joyous experiences of your life.
If you will let it. ㋼
Ooh, one more thing. There’s an iPhone version of Noby Noby Boy coming out really, really soon (assuming that Apple’ll allow it on their App Store). Judging by the incredible preview videos that they’ve placed on YouTube, it’s shaping up to be the best iPhone and iPod touch application ever made. So now you’ve got a reason to get yourself one of those devices.
Most — all, actually — of the images in this post were taken from Eurogamer.
- Coincidentally, the potential of home power sockets to transmit data was realised a few years later with the HomePlug standard. My mind was ahead of its time. [↩]
- The PlayStation equivalent of Achievements. [↩]





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