Your “reward” for completing puzzles in Hohokum is usually pretty vaporous, in fact the only way to know for sure that you’ve achieved something is to pause the game and see if you’ve been assigned a random point. A more obvious scoring system, or perhaps a Legend of Zelda-esque music cue when you’ve accomplished something would have been much appreciated.
A world full of pots — wonder if this is alluding to anything. Nah.
Of course, the makers of Hohokum would probably chide me for focusing too heavily on “solving” the game, but I can’t help it. My brain likes to make connections, and if you’re a clenched-jaw, analytical type like me, you’re going to see puzzles everywhere in Hohokum. Maybe if I touch every single tree in this stage it will do something! Oh, it didn’t. Well, what if I touch all 200 blobby things in this other stage? No? Honestly, it gets a little frustrating. Hohokum was designed for less cluttered brains than mine. Even if you’re able to just let your brain go and enjoy the pretty colors, Hohokum is going to have a shelf life. After maybe two or three hours you’ll have seen all the game has to offer, at which point its mellowing properties will likely start to wear thin.
Hell if I know what’s going on here.
But that’s okay — Hohokum and similar Sony titles like Flower aren’t really for gamers or even for people who make spacin’ out part of their regular routine. These are titles meant to be set-up at parties to advertise what a cool, chill, artsy person you are, and, by the same token, what a cool, chill, artsy company the Sony Corporation is. These aren’t games you want to sit down with for any length of time, but pretty much anybody can pick them up for five or ten minutes and have a few “haha, oh cool” moments. There’s value in that, but I’m not sure if that value is equal to $15. Considering Hohokum is essentially an interactive ad designed to promote the hipness of the Playstation brand, I’d say free would be the ideal price, but I’d be willing to split the difference.