Four Fat Chicks -- Tellurian Review

MrLipid's Closet of the Odd
Tellurian

Review by MrLipid
July 2006

Two Words ...

Tellurian, the 2004 sequel to Googoltek's 2001 release, Umbra, can be described in two words: Ed Wood. Yes, that Ed Wood. The Ed Wood who gave the world such film classics as Bride of the Monster, Glen or Glenda, and, of course, Plan 9 from Outer Space. Since Ed's work frequently lands him on lists of Worst Directors Ever, describing a movie or computer game in terms of Ed's accomplishments might seem like the ultimate thumb down. And that would be the case if I didn't happen to find Ed's work enormously entertaining. Then again, what I find entertaining about Ed's work lies well outside the qualities that draw most folks to the movies or to computer games. More on Ed and his qualities later. First, let's run down Tellurian's technical details.

Installing. Please Wait.

Tellurian comes on three CDs and offers three different installation footprints ranging from a mere 100 MB to a substantial 1.5 GB. Tellurian, unlike any other game I can remember, installs in stages. The initial installation completes, one clicks on the game executable and, instead of the game starting, one is asked to perform a gamma adjustment and then, finally, to select an install size.

I chose 1.5 GB, and the installer announced it was done in a matter of seconds. This seemed suspicious. Turns out the installer only creates the folders needed for the data; none of the data itself was copied into the folders. I got around this by manually copying the \FILES folder from each of the three CDs into the TELLURIAN\FILES folder on my hard drive.

Starting the game revealed another glitch. The game stalled after the opening video with this message: "TELLURIAN caused an invalid page fault in Module MSDXM.OCX." Googoltek promptly rewrote the executable to avoid calls to Module MSDXM.OCX. (This issue may be related to my running 98SE. After creating the new executable, Googoltek revised its website to remove 98 as a supported OS.) I installed the new executable, it worked flawlessly, and I prepared to explore the world of Tellurian.

Naked Aspiration

As someone who has not spent a lot of time with the work of independent game developers (other than Jonathan Dark Fall Boakes, Matt Barrow Hill Clark, and Knut Rhem Muller), I had no idea what sorts of standards independent developers set for themselves. The work of Boakes, Clark and Muller suggested the standards were fairly high. The work of Googoltek suggested the standards of ... Ed Wood.

Time for a few kind words about Ed Wood. What I find endlessly engaging about Ed's work is the huge gulf between what he wanted to do and what he actually achieved. Ed's work is pure aspiration. With neither the funds to create the worlds he imagined nor the editorial skills to shape what he managed to capture on film, all that remains is his longing, his desperate wish to be a filmmaker. Ed's movies are so crude and disjointed that they seem like vague memories even as one watches them. What, one wonders, did Ed see that inspired him to attempt a particular scene or line of dialogue?

Ed's work is an echo chamber of influences, distorted by both creative and budgetary limitations. Then again, based on his efforts as a novelist, there is no hint that money would have improved his work as a film director. And yet, he kept making films. The aspirational gulf was never bridged, he never got any better, but he kept working.

Unlike those who say they want to make movies and never do, Ed made movies—but just barely. And that is what I find engaging, hypnotic, and inspiring about him. I find myself enthralled by trying to figure out what was going through his mind when he wrote "Modern man is a hard working human." How does one get so close to the tone of a 1950s industrial film and then, in the last word, miss it completely? And, better still, having missed it, just keep on going? Try as I might, I cannot look away from the train wreck that is the work of Wood.

The Adventure Continues ...

Given my affection for Ed's struggles with his native tongue, there was no way I could resist the description of Tellurian offered by its publisher: "Three years after Umbra, an alien spacecraft appears in the sky and abducts the Mayor. With just one clue and no ideas, his wife and the police call on you a second time."

With just one taste of the peculiar flavor that is Tellurian and no idea what I was getting into, I bought my second game from Googoltek.

Those curious about the taste I found so irresistible will find the Tellurian trailer infused with classic Ed Wood qualities. The trailer is also an echo chamber of influences: almost, but not quite, sounding like everything from Milo to Myst. And, like Ed's work, the trailer raises baffling questions. Why would aliens want to abduct, of all people, a mayor? Why is the mayor's wife sitting in an office paneled with what seems to be one enormous piece of wood? Why does her chair cast a shadow and she doesn't? While buying a copy of Tellurian will answer the abduction question, it is unlikely anything will ever explain the wood paneling or the inability of the mayor's wife to stop light from passing through her.

Let Us ... Edutain You ...

Upon starting Tellurian, the player must choose which of the nine different versions of the game to play. Tough choice when the games have such gripping titles as Natural Resources, People, Geography, History, Science, Religion, Technology, Military, and Language. This must be why the hype for Tellurian claims that after completing the game, "you will be left with a thorough knowledge of the workings of the first alien civilization ever to be discovered." Assuming, of course, you play all nine variants of the game.

Once a choice is made, the opening video plays. It shows what I can only assume is the abduction of the mayor from the mayor's point of view. The video then cuts to the mayor's wife explaining the case. How she came to think that there was a gateway to another world somewhere in town when her husband was abducted by an alien spacecraft is just one more of Tellurian's mysteries. For those who've not viewed the trailer, here are her comments in full:

"You must be the detective. Hello. I have a job for you. Last night, at about, ten o'clock, my husband, the mayor, was abducted by aliens, outside, as he was walking to his car. I thought to call you because you helped us out with that school mystery a couple of years ago. I know this is like no case you've ever taken before, but I think there is a gateway to the alien planet in this town. If you could find it, go to their planet and get back my husband. I'd be most grateful. Here's a picture of my husband and a map of this town. If you want to see a security tape of the abduction, just come back here. It's in the VCR. Good luck."

Bah, Umbra!

"That school mystery" is the story of Googoltek's previous game, Umbra, and involves another disappearance: the disappearance of the town middle school. In Umbra, you, as the detective, have 24 hours to get the school back because "parents of children at that school [are] complaining that their children need to learn" and can't because the school has gone missing. As the school officials put it, "The peace in this town depends on you helping us restore the school before tomorrow." Restoring the school requires the player to go on a scavenger hunt in Port Washington, New York. (I'm guessing the city is Port Washington because the only place Umbra is for sale, other than through CafePress.com, is the gift shop in Port Washington. Also, I used to live in Connecticut, and the light and architecture are very familiar.) The city is recreated through a series of photos and the player must, for example, find the right cake at the bakery to get the next clue, which might involve finding the paint section in the local hardware store, and so on. Umbra is short, simple, clear, and surprisingly enjoyable. But enough about Umbra. Back to the world of Tellurian.

Fasten Your Seatbelts!

Once the mayor's wife has wished you luck and you've been treated to Tellurian's title graphic, the adventure begins on a modest note with this shot:

Turn to the left and you'll see what are supposedly the city hall doors.

Enter city hall and discover a wood-paneled foyer the size of NASA's Vehicle Assembly Building.

Each of the nine games follows the same arc: find the gateway to the alien planet by wandering the streets of Port Washington, get yanked off the earth, explore alien places and spaces as painstakingly rendered as the city hall foyer, solve some puzzles, and, finally, return home to be congratulated by the mayor: "Ah, it's you. I just wanted to thank you for solving this mystery and rescuing me. You have once again proven yourself a master detective. Oh, and your payment. Here it is. Plus a little extra for doing such a good job so quickly. Again, thank you so much. You provided a great service to this city."

The high point in Tellurian (spoiler alert!) is this revelation: "I dunno how, but a few days ago this suddenly downloaded onto my computer. It's the aliens' generic battle plan. They pick one city on every planet. Before they attack, all the doors in the city hall begin to convert into those cell doors. They go to the city hall disguised as a being from that planet, walk into an office pretending to be friendly and then leave, sealing the door. They do that with all the city's officials. Then, with no government, the city is easy to conquer and the rest of the planet surrenders."

Worthy of Wood? I think so.

So Much Space, So Little Content!

Even though Tellurian can occupy up to 1.5 GB, it has neither music nor sound effects, lending the entire enterprise an unfinished feeling. The only sound in the main body of the game is the Windows ding! The ding! is triggered whenever a dead end is hit. And there are plenty of dead ends to hit because the cursor cannot be relied upon to indicate when it is possible to move forward. While one can always move left or right (though never backward), it is not always possible to move forward. Clicking on what appears to be an open space can produce a ding!, while clicking on what appears to be an impassable obstacle can jump one to a new slide. That's right. A new slide. Tellurian is pure slideshow, mixing a vast collection of simple renders with the shots of Port Washington from Umbra.

Tellurian sells for a mere $12 plus shipping, the 80-page strategy guide sells for $8 plus shipping and, if the game and guide are bought as a package, the price plummets to $19 plus shipping.

Can I recommend Tellurian for fans of point-and-click adventures? Not really. I can, however, wholeheartedly recommend it for those who have wondered what a computer game created by Ed Wood might look like.