*Review based on Katamari Damacy Reroll’s release on Nintendo Switch*
Coming out of the 1990s, which perfected gaming up to that point and then revolutionized it with the third-dimension, the 2000s had a lot to follow-up on. While some games from the early years of the 2000s did prove influential – such as Halo or Grand Theft Auto 3 – it didn’t take long for the decade to become complacent with where they were at. Games were determined to be “edgy” and “gritty” in the wake of GTA’s influence and the FPS boom of the time. Gaming seemed determined to rid itself of its so-called “kiddie” past by embracing violence, sex and adult themes (though in execution, among was arguably more juvenile at this point than ever). Color and creativity had no place in gaming anymore, all that mattered was being “cool” and “mature.”
Then along came Katamari Damacy.
Originally released in 2004 on the Playstation 2, Katamari Damacy injected some much-needed personality and humor – not to mention gameplay innovation – back into the medium.
The brainchild of Keita Takahashi, Katamari Damacy is delightfully silly. A bizarre, god-like entity called The King of All Cosmos has gone on a drunken stupor carelessly crashes into every star in the sky, destroying them. The King of All Cosmos then commands his son the Prince to replace the stars by creating “Katamaris.”
What are Katamaris? To put it simply, they’re sticky clumps that are made bigger with… stuff. The player, as the Prince, must roll a Katamari along the ground, collecting more and more stuff to make the Katamari bigger. The bigger the Katamari gets, the bigger the objects that can be attached to it.
The goal of each main level in the story is to make the Katamari a certain size by the time the timer runs out, while side levels (which see the Prince recreate the constellations) will have more specific goals, like collecting a certain amount of a particular object.
Earlier stages will have the Prince collecting office supplies and other such trinkets, while the later levels naturally keep upping the ante, with no person, thing or even place being safe from being clumped into the Katamari. It all culminates in a beautifully absurd finale which – in regards to bringing together every element a game has introduced up to that point – should stand as one of the best final levels in video game history.
Katamari Damacy is as fun as it is nonsensical, with the game taunting players with any and every object around them. Players will likely try to discover their own paths through a stage, following a path of objects that gradually get bigger until they can best their high scores.
The graphics are nothing to write home about. Even with its HD gloss in its 2018 “Reroll” release, Katamari Damacy was clearly made with a budget. Thankfully, the humorous nature of the game gives it an art style that plays into its visual limitations, with the human characters looking like blocky Playmobil figures.
The music, however, is phenomenal. While there may have been some cut corners in terms of visuals, Namco (now Bandai Namco) clearly spared no expense when it came to the soundtrack. Almost every track in the game has Japanese vocals, and while I may not be able to understand what they’re saying, each tune creates a distinct personality for each stage. Some of the songs are riotously funny, while others are cute and soothing. Aside from Katamari’s own sequels, you won’t find many other game soundtracks like it. It’s wonderful to listen to.
Not every element of Katamari Damacy has aged well, unfortunately. This is a PS2 game at heart, and boy does it play like one. You use both control sticks on your controller to push the Katamari, while only moving the left stick moves Prince around said Katamari, and turning the right stick on its own moves the camera (even if you do get the hang of it, the camera isn’t too reliable, as fitting into a crowded space or taking a rough bump can send the camera careening out of whack). You can also supposedly dash by moving both joysticks up and down opposite of each other, but as you can imagine given the primary control of the game, the dash only seems to work some of the time.
The awkward controls and clunky camera may be products of their time, and if memory serves correctly, I’m tempted to say that its immediately successor, We Love Katamari (the only other entry directed by Takahashi) was an improvement. But in terms of personality, humor and innovation, Katamari Damacy played a role in elevating gaming out of a creative dark age, and reminded us all that, deep down, games should be fun.