Flash Jungle: Funny To A Point – Horizon Zero Dawn? More Like Horizon Zero Daaaang!

Now that I've set a new low bar for FTAP headlines, let's talk about how awesome Horizon is, shall we?

Like many gamers, I've been looking forward to Horizon Zero Dawn ever since its reveal at E3 2015. The gender politics of the Nora tribe and Aloy's role in the matriarchal society as an outcast had my mind brimming with possibilities. PSYCHE – it was the robot dinosaurs, obviously! I honestly can't even remember if Aloy was in the announcement trailer; it could've been Ronald McDonald fighting that giant Thunderjaw, and I wouldn't have noticed unless it stepped on his dumb red shoe and made a squeaking noise.

Anyway, the point is I've been excited about Horizon Zero Dawn for years*, so when Joe brought up the possibility of playing it two weeks early, I was more than happy to jump on the review. Well, I was mostly happy to jump on the review. I realize that this pity party is going to be a table for one, but a lot of work and pressure goes into reviewing a video game. Not only must you finish playing the game before embargo deadline, you have to formulate a concrete opinion about the experience (that half the gaming community is going to hate no matter what it is), and then turn those ideas into words that don't sound stupid when you type them on the stupid blank page that won't stop mocking you with how stupidly blank it is.

This is all doubly true when reviewing a big game that everyone is looking forward to, and not some bargain bin horse hockey that would earn you the video game equivalent of a Purple Heart just for playing it to completion. In that sense, playing a big game for review is kind of like being handed a giant bowl of ice cream, then having your grandpa point a gun at your head and tell you that you have to eat it all in one sitting (I'm not sure why it has to be your grandpa, but you can't deny it adds some emotional weight to the metaphor).

If you're thinking, "Can I go to those mountains?" You can! You probably also work in PR...

Naturally, a reviewer's job is to separate those kinds of external pressures from their enjoyment (or lack thereof) of a game. That's a whole lot easier when you have plenty of time to play through said game. It's also easier when said game lets you live out the Robo Jurassic Park fantasies that you didn't even know you had until Guerrilla planted the seed in your mind like you're the crazy wife from Inception.

I had a week to play through Horizon, but I was still a little nervous going in. Open-world games are the bane of my virtual existence. Whenever a game lets me wander off the scripted path, I instantly transform from The Hero The World Needs, to Nutjob You Don't Want To Share A Bus Seat With. "Wander Aimlessly" becomes my sole quest line, until I eventually sputter out and move onto a different game. My Witcher 3 progress ended shortly after Geralt banged his first lady. In Dragon Age: Inquisition, it was meeting the elf version of Billy Corgan (I honestly don't know how anyone played beyond that point, but whatever). I can't even remember the last time I finished an Assassin's Creed, but it was well before Desmond rolled out of the Animus in search of a shower. Bethesda games are my absolute worst; for some reason, my distracted misadventures leave me surrounded by piles of underwear-clad corpses with alarming consistency.

Don't get me wrong: I love open-world games and the free-form experiences I have within them. The adventures just rarely end with me watching credits (or surfing the web on my phone while waiting for potential post-credits stingers).

Despite what this dubiously timed screenshot suggests, you unfortunately can't milk robots in Horizon.

Thankfully, my vampire DNA rendered any time concerns I had about Horizon Zero Dawn unnecessary; a few late-night marathon sessions gave me a huge head-start in the main story, and continued to fuel steady progress throughout the week. Well, aside from the night I was continually falling asleep while playing. My wife was busy watching tiny house videos on our tablet (we may or may not end up living in a home designed for Keebler elves when we retire), but kept dutifully nudging me back awake whenever she noticed the on-screen action had ground to a halt. I tried to throw her off the scent by surreptitiously pulling up the world map before nodding off, but she didn't fall for it – even with my lousy sense of direction, no one has to stare at a map that long.

With my time-crunch fears more or less allayed, I was able focus on what's truly important: picking every plant and twig I came across in Horizon's massive world. The NPCs were polite enough to not say anything, but they had to be offended. "Sure I'll help you avenge your sister's death! I'm just going to walk down next to this river and collect some flowers and rocks on the way, okay? No need to get pissy, we're still moving in the right general direct – an ancient relic site! Hold on a minute; if I bring a merchant a set of old mugs, he'll give me a loot box!"

But it's not just me – the Pavlovian response gamers get to completing simple random tasks is a key design principle in open-world games. Collecting stuff? Fun! Uncovering areas on your map? Fun! Upgrading your inventory space? Fun! So what if it looks like an icon monster barfed all over your map – look at all the crap you can do!

Warning: Just looking at Horizon's map may give you Attention Deficit Disorder.

The thing is, most of Horizon's familiar tropes are still fun (well, not following around "detective vision" trails, which is the virtual equivalent of the the classic mom game, "Who Tracked Mud In The House?!"). Am I tired of sneaking into bandit camps and meticulously implanting arrows into everyone's heads from a distance that is most certainly impossible given the craftsmanship of the bow I'm using? I sure ain't. Am I tired of backtracking through said bandit camp trying to remember where all the enemies were so I can loot their corpses like the most non-heroic hero ever? Actually, I am tired of that – but not enough to stop doing it.

Thankfully Horizon's story missions pick up the slack – but that doesn't mean the storytelling is flawless either. For a hardline tribe that will exile members simply for talking to an outcast like Aloy, it seems like everyone and their mother breaks the Nora's rules all the time. Every conversation starts with "I shouldn't be doing this," or "I shouldn't be here," or "Don't tell anyone I talked to you" – which implies the next person you meet is also going to break the rules by talking to you. What's the point of even having dumb rules if no one follows them?

Unfortunately, none of the Nora tribe's banishment laws cover dress code. Jeff Cork and I had an impromptu competition for coming up with an apt description of how lame everyone looks. Contenders included: post-historic hipster; Stone-age stoner; Burning Man attendee, and Brendan Fraiser circa Airheads or Encino Man. I eventually went with "roadie for a post-apocalyptic grunge band" in my review, but there are plenty of alternative descriptions that wouldn't make it past our swear filter.

There's also "one-eyed Shia Labeouf," which sounds like a euphemism, but is quite literal.

And yet, none of the stupid-looking characters or story flaws prevented me from becoming utterly engrossed in Horizon's lore. Most of the time, audio logs and diary entries in games are like gas receipts; sure, I'll never not grab one, but I'm just going to shove it in the little compartment between the seats (you know, the gas-receipt compartment) and never look at it or think about it ever again.** Thanks to Horizon's deeply rooted mysteries, I actually looked forward to reading and listening to every message I came across. Horizon's story is so interesting that my wife would periodically ask me for updates, and unlike most of the time, I was actually able to convey the plot to her.

But none of this has to do with Horizon Zero Dawn's main selling point: ROBOT DINOSAURS. As far as I'm concerned, Guerrilla missed a major opportunity by not simply calling it Robot Dinosaurs – or Robot Dinosaurs: The Game if they were afraid consumers would be confused. Horizon's mechanical creatures absolutely steal the show: They make the combat feel new and unique, they inject the world with danger and wonder, and they constantly keep you on your toes. Simply put, they're awesome, and if you don't want to take my word for it, I've pulled together a few gameplay clips from my playtime to make my case.