I like games like “Solatorobo: Red the Hunter.” I like their Japanglish names. I like their subtitles, which probably cost them sales by suggesting they’re sequels. I like the wonder and optimism with which they approach the task of creating a fictional world. I like the antidote they provide to the legions of big-budget games that seem more interested in being cool than fun. About “Solatorobo,” in particular, I like its race system. Instead of elves and dwarves, we get the catlike Felineko and the doggish Caninu (of which our hero, Red, is a member). I like that “Solatorobo” contains a character named Chocolat Gelato. I like its towns, whose scaling forgrounds and backgrounds put me in mind of pop-up books. I like the imagination it applies to such small things as the fishing minigame, where you catch not perch or trout but colossal hermit crabs that use derlict battleships as shells.
You may notice I’m not talking much about the actual game. Trouble is, that’s the part I didn’t like. “Solatorobo” is one of those “role-playing games” that’s actually an adventure game. And by “adventure game” I mean one of those games that’s less game than reading comprehension test. Can you go talk to the man standing to the left of the inn? If so, you’ve mastered “Solatorobo.”
