DeathSpank

When going into something that telegraphs its intentions as clearly as DeathSpank, I’m usually turned off by it. There’s almost always a nagging thought that regularly reminds me, “Isn’t this funny? You should be laughing, because this is supposed to be funny.” I have the same kind of reaction to things that are supposed to scare or move you, or even when someone’s told me something’s supposed to be amazing.

For the most part, DeathSpank stays well within this range. I think I laughed -- not counting occasional smirks and snickering -- all of once at DeathSpank, and I don’t know that anyone else would’ve laughed at the specific part I did (personal reasons, if you must know). But I’ll be the first one to admit that humor is one of the few things that’s more subjective than taste, so take my assessment how you will.

For what it’s worth, the humor stays well within lead designer Ron Gilbert’s wheelhouse, which is starting to feel a bit dated or will bring back some fond memories, depending on your experience. If the Monkey Island-style of humor did it for you, then DeathSpank’s reliance on ridiculous names and concepts will make you feel right at home. If not, it might feel like the game is trying to hard in most cases.

So the humor’s going to be hit-or-miss, but the actual game part of DeathSpank is hardly as divisive. It sticks very close to the established Diablo formula, but the unique thing about the game is the way it handles this formula within its budget. Within the 6 or so hours you’ll spend with the game, you’ll get an abridged version of the loot-lust RPG experience; you’ll get better weapons and armor constantly, fight several bosses, and tackle lots of fetch-quests. It’s a bit remarkable just how well DeathSpank manages to encapsulate the entirety of 20-to-30-hour experience in just scant few without losing too much in the process.

But it does lose a couple of things, and many of them are important to why the loot-lust entices the player as well as it does. There’s always an addictive quality when you’re hungering for the next piece of better armor, but because of the fairly linear nature of the game, there’s a very definitive “best” set of armor, and it kills your enthusiasm when you realize that you’ll have to buy it.

And once you get far enough into the game, many of the side-quests start to seem pointless. When you’re an hour away from the finale and you’re close enough to the level cap that grinding the strongest enemies becomes the only valid way to get experience, the “Get me X number of things” quest doesn't seem like a much better option.

A hint system akin to those included in some modern adventure games is available if you're stuck, but it’s more of a hindrance than a benefit most of the time. You have to find the fortune cookies that’ll give you access to the hints, which means that if you’re just incredibly stuck for some reason, it’s possible that you’ll waste the hints needlessly. It may seem like the more boring alternative, but telling me the exact place I should be for a quest would help alleviate some frustration.

The combat also takes a novel approach, but the results are more positive in this regard. Rather than simply clicking on an enemy, you can combo different weapons together for a damage boost. I found myself using the long-range weapons more than anything else, so I didn’t get much use out of the combo system, but that’s mostly due to personal preference.

DeathSpank stands in an odd place; on one hand, it sticks close to a very clear representation of the best and worst parts of gaming’s past, and in the other, it’s an attempt to streamline and make the old habits seem new again. The humor will, of course, bite some more than others, but the RPG foundation is solid enough -- if somewhat dated -- to explore on its own.