Exploring Monkey Island

Sometimes we aren’t ready for certain kinds of art right away. In the 1990s when my interest in PC gaming was at its zenith, I had no interest in adventure games. Like many others I found them obscure and frustrating. I was aware of the genre mostly through my sister, who was a fan of games like Myst, and through the many LucasArts catalogs I had around the house. LucasArts was of course the computer gaming company originally founded by George Lucas in the 1980s, and their graphic adventure games were known as one of the high points of the genre in the 1990s. To me though they were the company that made Star Wars games, and that’s all my Mountain Dew-addled brain cared about back then. That means I missed one of the most celebrated of all adventure game franchises, the Monkey Island series. It wasn’t until I watched an outstanding YouTube documentary on the series that my interest was piqued. I have since become not just a fan of the original series, but of the numerous adventure games LucasArts released from the mid-80s until their last adventure game in 2000. Finally I was ready to appreciate them.

The graphic adventure genre used to be one of the more popular ones in computer gaming, but I’m surprised how many people I meet who have no familiarity with it. I suppose its current niche appeal necessitates some background explanation. Nailing down a precise definition of the genre can be difficult, but to me the biggest requirement is a linear narrative with a couple of strong central characters. The player guides those characters through the plot, usually through a series of puzzles revolving around inventory items, logic problems, and dialog trees with other characters. There’s no mechanical standard really, though the games usually revolve around exploration, collecting items, and combining and using them in unusual ways. For years, adventure games from companies like Infocom were text-based, requiring the player to type in commands like “go west” or “pick up box”. These eventually gave way to games by companies like Sierra Online that were based around graphics but still used text commands as the main form of input. LucasArts was among the first to move away from typing altogether, with the classic game Maniac Mansion. This 1987 game was one of the first to ditch text commands entirely, instead providing a selection of verbs the player can use to interact with items on the screen using the mouse. The engine they designed for Maniac Manion, known as the SCUMM Engine, would be the backbone of almost all of their best-loved adventure games.

Through the 1980s adventure games were notoriously punishing. The puzzles might make little sense to anyone who didn’t design the game, or the player might inadvertently make their game unwinnable by missing a crucial item somewhere. Then there were the places where a character would just die without warning, forcing the player to reload old saves to keep playing. It was this notorious difficulty that designer Ron Gilbert found disheartening. Gilbert worked at LucasArts as a part of the Maniac Mansion team, and he had a lot of issues with the adventure game genre. He didn’t care for the genre’s sharp edges, particularly the random deaths and locking the player out of victory. LucasArts eschewed these punishing mechanics, the idea being to make their games more accessible. (They still were prone to bizarre puzzles; more on that in a bit.) They would harp on this accessibility in their rulebooks, obviously viewing it as a big selling point. Gilbert was also weary of generic fantasy settings, and along with a team including Tim Shafer and Dave Grossman, began work on an adventure game revolving around pirates. The resulting game, The Secret of Monkey Island, was released in 1990 and eventually became deeply influential not just for LucasArts, but for adventure games as a whole. LucasArts would eventually publish four games in the series, and a fifth game, published in several episodes, would be published by the now-defunct Telltale Games.

That’s a lot of background information to bring into this, but I think it’s pretty crucial for understanding why I responded to The Secret of Monkey Island so positively. This was the kind of game that I’ve needed over the last year. It does a great job at explaining the parameters of how adventure games work, and it does so with a lot of appealing characters, self-aware humor, and delightful 16-bit graphics. The main character of the whole series if Guybrush Threepwood, a young guy with a desire to be a pirate. All of the games also feature Elaine Marley, the romantic interest, and LeChuck, the evil ghost pirate who acts as the main villain. The games take place around the various islands of the Caribbean, though the precise location varies from title to title. They interact with a lot of goofy characters, and all of the games have a sense of humor that hangs a lampshade on the conventions of both pirate fiction and adventure games in general.

Let’s just say the game is not shy about embracing anachronisms.

The first game has all of those qualities, but what I appreciated most about it was that it places some reasonable boundaries on what was possible. Right off the bat, the game funnels you to a specific location where you are given three things you need to do to become a pirate. It doesn’t give much in the way of precise instructions, because that’s the whole point of the game in the first place, but it sets local goals in front of you right away. Because there’s no way to die or lock yourself out of victory, you are free to experiment and try stupid stuff to your heart’s content. When you find a solution to a specific puzzle, there’s often a little moment of laughter at the solution, since they often revolve around puns or pop-culture references.

Adventure games, including those by LucasArts, often have the reputation of being filled with “moon logic” puzzles, where the solution is so esoteric and weird that no one would get there on their own. This reputation is not altogether undeserved, since adventure games are often the brainchild of a distinct author, and what makes sense to one person might not make sense to another. LucasArts in particular embraced wordplay and pop culture references, some of which don’t translate that well to intuitive puzzle design. Over the last year I’ve hit most of the high points of their catalog, and I’ve not yet had one that I’ve been able to get through without a walkthrough of some kind. That’s not as bad as it sounds, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about the genre it’s that different kinds of puzzles challenge different kinds of people. One person’s moon logic is another person’s simple solution, and there have been lots of times when I’ve seen the solution to a puzzle and thought, “oh yeah, that makes sense.” Still, there will always be some puzzles that are too wacky or specific for most people to figure out on their own. When these games came out decades ago, I am sure there were lots of frustrated players who couldn’t just turn to their smartphones if they got stuck.

On the irritation scale, The Secret of Monkey Island does better than just about any other LucasArts game, making it a great starting place. Not that there aren’t some moments that made me roll my eyes a little. I don’t think there’s any moment where a solution isn’t subtly broadcasted elsewhere in the game, but it’s not always as clear as I would like. At least one puzzle depends on the player knowing a particular English idiom, and not one that I think is used that often anymore. There are also times where Guybrush needs to do something and it’s not obvious to the player that he’s actually able to do it. Maybe you won’t know that you can pick up an item, or that you can go to a location. A certain amount of outside-the-box thinking is necessary here and there. This is one of the few cases where I could see someone making it through without any clues at all if they were patient enough. (I’m not.)

It’s also a genuinely funny game, though it arrives at its humor in a different way from its sequels. If you play the original version, the cut-scenes are portrayed in a fairly realistic style. In other words, the pirate setting is played pretty straight, making all of the self-aware humor just a little more effective as a result. Later games would remain funny, but they would take the game in a far more cartoony direction, the wackiness more overt. To paraphrase Roger Ebert, The Secret of Monkey Island is funny because it’s wearing a funny hat and is trying to act like it isn’t. The later games all know they are silly, and revel in it.

From all I’ve been able to tell, The Secret of Monkey Island was something of a slow burn, the kind of game that wasn’t a true smash but still sold well. Its sequel, Monkey Island 2: LeChuck’s Revenge, arrived just a year later, and its whole mindset is one of “bigger.” The scope of the game is zoomed way out, particularly in the second act where Guybrush must travel between several islands, resolving a numerous puzzles at the same time. I’ve never been one to take notes in a game, but Monkey Island 2 would have benefited from jotting down some lines about all of its spinning plates. It’s also a longer game, and its puzzles are substantially more complex. I often thought I had figured something out, only for the game to throw a couple more steps in front of me.

In that respect, Monkey Island 2 was a slightly more frustrating experience for me. More of the puzzles were of the variety where there was no way I was going to figure it out on my own. To some extent that says a lot about my own ability to solve stuff like this, but there were one or two times where I found the solution and thought, “That’s total crap.” The design is just a touch less refined, and its sprawl can get a bit exhausting here and there. I have read many people who feel that the sequel is better than the original, which tells me at least some of my frustration is not shared by others. I could see how someone would think of it as the richer experience, but I would consider it a little like the comparison between Portal and Portal 2. The first game is the tighter design, but the second has a lot to recommend it too.

Best to play both games and decide for yourself, honestly. Monkey Island 2 is still a lot of fun. Most of the puzzles have that same sense of laughing realization, and the game’s graphics are probably the best the series has ever looked. From a technical standpoint, it definitely feels like the series levelled up. The music in particular is really cool, since this is the first game to utilize the iMuse system, the LucasArts program that allowed for responsive music cues that would change based on what was happening in the game. This is pretty normal today, but after playing the first game it feels revelatory.

Monkey Island 2 is really funny too, though as I said before, it’s a little more over-the-top. Guybrush mugs for the camera and has some distinctly cartoony reaction shots. He’s also required to commit some distinctly anti-social behavior to get through the story, things like stealing items that another character definitely needs. Some people feel this makes him less sympathetic, but I consider it another aspect of the game’s satirical edge. This is honestly how most adventure game protagonists act, and Monkey Island 2 draws enough attention to it that I think it’s a conscious design choice. Speaking of unorthodox choices, the game ends on a note that is, shall we say, open to interpretation. I like that kind of stuff, but there are people who are still irritated by it.

Monkey Island 2 is a great looking game, and even though the sequels would get technically more advanced I don’t think the series ever looked nicer.

It was after Monkey Island 2 that director Ron Gilbert would depart LucasArts to start his own studio. It would be designers like the great Tim Schafer, one of the writers and designers on the first two game, who would carry on the success LucasArts experienced in later titles like Day of the Tentacle and Grim Fandango. There would of course be two more Monkey Island sequels, but I’ll write about them at a later date, since they feel pretty distinct from these first two games. It would be a good six years between the second and third game, and the time between those games is reflected in some of the design choices present in the later titles.

The first two Monkey Island games are both available on digital platforms like Steam and GOG. The versions you will find there are “special editions,” released by LucasArts about a decade ago. They feature updated graphics and voice acting. The latter is welcome, but the former is more mixed. Thankfully they both feature a way to revert back to classic visuals, and I strongly recommend you play the games this way. The jerky animations just look better in their 16-bit glory, and in a couple of cases puzzles are much easier to solve with the old interface. Both games also include a hint system, which I found generally pretty helpful for the moments I got stuck.

The Monkey Island series has been my biggest game discovery of the last twelve months. As I edge closer to 40, I find myself more willing to engage with a game that is over in about ten hours, doesn’t require me to learn twitchy button sequences or think in terms of challenging long-term strategy. It’s a more relaxed form of gaming, and I find that it’s well-suited to my lifestyle right now. There also can be a fun communal aspect to these games. It’s enjoyable to sit with your spouse or kids, and to figure out together the solution to the next puzzle. My sons have seen solutions to these games that would never have occurred to me, since their minds aren’t as restrained by conventional video game tropes. So even if you aren’t much of a computer gamer, I think you might be surprised at how fun these games are.

If you really are into the history of Monkey Island, and computer gaming in general, I would recommend the great hour-long documentary by Ahoy. It covers all of the Monkey Island series, and touches on many of the other high points in the LucasArts catalog. You should also check out the piece on the first game by The Digital Antiquarian, who writes an ongoing project on the history of computer games. (We have differing opinions on the second game, but it’s a great article.) He’s covered several other LucasArts games as well, and his work is always worth your time.

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