Pikmin 2 is, in some ways, an obscene game.
In the first Pikmin, Olimar crash lands on a mysterious planet and must repair his ship with the help of the half plant ‘Pikmin’ creatures he finds. There’s a time limit of 30 days before his life support systems fail, and he must orbit the planet each night in order to escape its many nocturnal monsters. The 30 day time limit never seriously hampers good gamers, but inspires them to make each day count by playing it over until it works out right. The ticking clock of sundown adds a sense of urgency and an appreciation of strategy.
I think everyone starts Pikmin with the expectation, or at least the goal, that they can play through the game with no, or at least few, deaths by the adorable Pikmin. Of course, the noble pledge one initially takes never to let one’s Pikmin charges die in vain, is usually dashed by noon of the first day, when a bulborb casually eats a dozen or so Pikmin while you attend to a different group as it recovers some vital part of your ship. So, while you regret the loss of those Pikmin, ultimately, it’s a loss that you come to grudgingly accept, when faced with the possibility of dying on a strange and alien world. You tell yourself it’s the tragic price of self-preservation.
A twist comes at the end, when you face the final boss. A mighty Emperor Bulbax lies hidden in wait, and you battle it for the better part of a day, sacrificing wave after wave bomb carrying kamikaze yellow Pikmin to its ferocious tongue. Finally, with the beast slaughtered, you haul back your gain: a safe containing souvenirs for your son.
This theme of sacrificing the lives of Pikmin as means of securing petty, material prizes is greatly expanded in the sequel. Returning to his home planet, Olimar finds in company deeply in debt. However, seeing the value of some scrap from the Pikmin planet, a scheme is launched to scour it for treasure and so save the company.
The cruelty of this premise should be apparent.
Where before, your very life hung in the balance and each Pikmin that passed away could be rationalized as a brave warrior, sacrificing its life for yours, in Pikmin 2, the motive of the game is laid bare. The Pikmin die to haul in scrap, and thus change a few small marks at the bottom of a balance book.
This theme of selling out goes even deeper, when you consider that Nintendo has ‘revealed’ the Pikmin planet to be planet Earth, and accordingly thus used product placement for the scrap. Five Pikmin maybe laid waste for a Duracell battery. Twenty Pikmin may perish for Seven-Up cap. Hundreds could be slaughtered for a Game & Watch. No sacrifice is too great in the pursuit of the dollar yen.
The time limit for the expedition is open ended, and in the new cave levels, no time passes at all. Anyhow, all your Pikmin are being butchered for commerce, and it’s obscene.
Obscenely Awesome!!
Pikmin 2 is almost stressfully intense. I have taken in the time limits of the first game, panopticon-style, and find myself playing levels over and over, scheming to hook one more treasure, while losing one less Pikmin. The new monsters are awesome, and the game text is clever and funny. The gameplay works well, and all the tweaks are positive.
2 ★★ out of 2 ☆☆.
Reviewed by Curl