The issues with saving and crashing really bothered me. The reasons for this were partly thematic (i.e., my reaction above) but mostly technical. Somehow, I've let over a year elapse since my last attempts to play Martian Dreams. Hey! I led her to come up with the name "radium"! Every NPC is going to be some VIP from the Victorian Age with no depth or wit to his characterization beyond the initial, "Hey! It's Marie Curie!" or "Hey! It's Buffalo Bill Cody!" Every ruin is going to fill in the backstory of a Mars with a breathable atmosphere that dozens of people have visited after being shot out of a cannon. Martian Dreams offers that gameplay but perverts it by ensuring that anything I find is going to be stupid. There's nothing I like more than being cast adrift into an open game world, where I can explore the landscape and visit ruins in essentially any order, learning neat things about the history and lore of the setting. Most of all, I hate what the game has done to my favorite game mechanic: open exploration. I like the combat system, but I hate the actual combats against these stupid, meaningless foes. I like talking to NPCs by keyword, but I hate these NPCs. I just hate what they've done with it here. I hate it while recognizing that it's not objectively bad. I don't know how this is going to play out, but I'm willing to bet it will be stupid.
There's a dialogue suggestion that we might not even be on "real" Mars. That was before I rescued from a Martian cave a man named Cooter McGee, who was hiding from Rasputin, and got, as a reward, a map to some rocks that release oxygen when you chew them. I got up at some point to get a snack and, walking past the living room, I heard the unforgettable line, "Me-a little toaster-the Supreme Commander of Mars! Wow!"įor years, without even knowing the context, I held up that one line, heard in isolation, as the prime example of the most absurd plot point that could ever exist.
I only remember that she was watching it in the living room one weekend afternoon while I was messing around on my computer-probably playing an RPG. (How they didn't sue the makers of Toy Story is a mystery to me.) I didn't care for the film, so I didn't much care when, some years after we met, she discovered that the film had a sequel. My characters, who wouldn't survive on the red planet, pick berries, which wouldn't grow there.Īt some point in her childhood, Irene became a fan of The Brave Little Toaster, a 1987 film about inanimate objects who become animated when their owner isn't around and show unwavering loyalty to him despite the fact that they're almost certainly destined for a dumpster.
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