Katamari Damacy (PS2) Review

(Originally posted on June, 2016)

 

(2004, PS2)

2003 is when I began the bother known as working life. In that massive time & energy black hole, tragically my existence could no longer be centered around trying out every new game of interest. Even before release, there was a loud, positive buzz about the quirky, budget priced Katamari Damacy, which immediately caught eyes with a unique graphic style relatively taxing in geometry yet low-end in texturing (perhaps modeled after the 'Money for Nothing' video by Dire Straights). Interesting as it looked, I barely had time to keep up with all the amazing sequels coming out around then (Not limited to Outrun 2, Advance Wars 2, Street Fighter: Anniversary Collection, Pikmin 2 and Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat). When I finally gave in and bought it in 2005, I immediately realized I waited far too long, be it two years or two days! I was completely obsessed with the game until finishing it, going so far as to earn those "good" headaches that come with learning a new skill...

Using (pretty much) just the PS2 controller's dual analog sticks, the simple and intuitive controls gave off a remarkable sense of user-friendly ingenuity not seen often enough at a time when influential first person shooters, ambitious sandbox concepts and production budgets were exploding. The game can be completed within a handful of (highly replayable) hours, with 20 stages spread over three huge worlds. Half of the stages are optional and themed with a special objective, such as rolling up the single biggest bear possible while avoiding the cubs. For the main campaign, the goal is to navigate the Prince through danger as he rolls the Katamari over (relatively) tiny objects that stick to and make it bigger, consequently allowing you to pick up even larger things. This sounds simple, but how deep it plays out! 

The game feels like a chalkboard full of math equations brought to life. An immediate and intense sense of engagement comes from constantly having to recalculate your options and adjust your next move. Starting a stage, should you spend the first 5 seconds picking up all the matchsticks in the immediate vicinity, or venture just a bit out of the way in search of the slightly larger yet obtainable thumbtacks that may provide a better return on investment?  This almost overwhelming sense of possibility is all tied together by unsettling 1950s sitcom style cut scenes, an overload of Japanese culture and the screams of fleeing citizens being absorbed into your "Clump Spirit". Each and every moment is so fun that you won't just want to get your Katamari to the size required to please The King of All Cosmos, but also receive the blessing of the Angels, who only pay a visit once there's almost nothing left to pick up.

Frequently having doubts about my Japanese progress, over the years I found encouragement by rolling the Katamari. When learning a language, at first you'll only be able to memorize words of particularly interest, which gradually "stick" through repetition. Then you reach the milestone of comprehending a simple sentence with that favorite word. Before you know it, you're reading paragraphs like it's no big deal, actively looking for a component that you don't understand, all the while reinforcing what you do know without much effort. Such is the growth of the Katamari. You may be guiding The Prince (Son of The King of all Cosmos) towards the ambitious target of a windmill, all the while rolling up automobiles and light posts without a care. Just minutes earlier, acquiring the mass to capture a group of cooing pigeons was a formidable effort. Katamari Damacy provides the empowering satisfaction of compound interest, raising one's metabolism, exponential growth, etc; without all the work, discipline and time otherwise required.

After playing the game, the music will likely stick with you just as much as how it feels to roll. More of a soundtrack than traditional game music, there's a blend of songs from all sorts of genres, paired with cheesy lyrics in both English and Japanese. The average track is of a high enough standard that it could find success somewhere as 'real' music, whether by being authentically well put together or exceptional in it's self-parody. If "Just Lose It" could it make it so big on the radio in America in 2004, so could the clean piano and drums, interesting break downs and ridiculous yet catchy raps of "The Moon and the Prince" on Japanese airwaves. Reading Carl Sagan's Cosmos just before my latest playthrough, the pleas for world peace and recognizing our oneness gave me serious reflection. When the exact same theme came up in the goofy yet earnest credits ballad, everything I took in from the book came boiling up to the point where I was nearly in tears.

Some of sequels Namco demanded (to the protest of the developers) may have diluted the series' magic by adding too many ingredients to a winning simplistic formula, but the original will always remain a highlight of what many would argue is the greatest console library ever in the Playstation 2. Whether your Katamari is a mere gumball rolling up ants, or a planetoid absorbing entire islands, the challenge and experience is essentially the same. Could this be a metaphor that running on a mad dash to acquire things and statuses, regretting the past and worrying over the future is necessary and good to a degree, but only so long as you never forget to roll through each of life's moments with all your love and attention?