Rescue: The Beagles has been fluttering around my consciousness for a while now. I was aware of it, had even seen a video of it, but I hadn’t really been interested enough to want to play it. It had recommendations coming out of its… (do Beagles have conventional arses?), and yet still I wasn’t moved to download and play. It wasn’t until I was browsing the TIGSource Forums late last night that I finally decided to take the plunge, and actually see what it was all about. The realisation that the whole thing was procedurally generated was, of course, only encouraging.
I’ve had my little say about it here, but if that didn’t convince you to shell out the measly $20 for the game, hopefully this newly released Demo will do the job. Crayon Physics really is a lovely game, and I’ve been waiting for an excuse to talk a little bit more about it, because I’ve revisited it a few times since I blitzed through it, and it’s still just as fun; each level really does have dozens of solutions, and they’re all just as fun as the first time you’ve done it. In fact, each time you play a level you think about how you could have done it differently. Even the less creative levels are taking on some level of brilliance; the simplicity allows for your solutions to be that much more grand and expansive. Once you’ve tried the demo, make sure to buy it here should you enjoy it sufficiently.
It’s a simple premise; a physics game where, instead of manipulating objects, you create them, right down from their very shape to whether they’re attached to each other or not. That, in and of itself, is a pretty interesting concept. Add in the fact that this is all done by drawing the shapes, then letting them fall into the puzzles in wonderful colours around a scenery of doodles and pulley systems, and you’ve got something really rather special. Crayon Physics Deluxe is a very impressive physics game masquerading as something a three year old would enjoy. Unfortunately I had no three year olds handy, so I couldn’t see whether they’d actually enjoy it. Instead there’s just me, a drawing tablet, and just under a hundred levels of balls and stars.