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“Dear Mario, I'll be waiting for you at the castle on the night of the Star Festival. There's something I'd like to give you.

Yeah, I'll bet there is. ”

'Super Mario Galaxy' Review
by Phil









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feature :: lost without you

Lost without you

Starks attempts to find his way to Ubisofts exclusive launch party for the game Lost.


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So, here’s a funny story. My mate, you see, won a ticket to go see the season premiere to the TV show Lost. You know, that crazy show where a bunch of people have crash landed on an island, and their attempts at escape naturally uncover a very large conspiracy theory, which in turns threatens their very freedom and survival blah blah blah. So he offered me this ticket that he had won as he for some reason couldn't go.

Me: ‘Lost? I don’t watch it.’
Him: ‘Free booze?’
Me: ‘I’m laying off it this month.’
Him: ‘It’s on a boat?’
Me: ‘I’m a pirate, I have my own boat.’
Him: ‘Ubisoft are showing their new game?’
Me: ‘Pfft, not working dude.’
Him: ‘There’ll be promo girls.’
Me: ‘So when do I need to head to the wharf?’
Turns out the son-of-a-bitch was lying, but of course I didn’t know this until I boarded the fricken boat now did I!

I headed into King Street wharf with camera in hand, slightly anxious about the storm that was brewing but managing to find a sweet park and headed down to the water. As I began to walk the heavens opened up as mother nature decided to solve Sydney's drought problem that night. I managed to make good time and get straight into Cargo Bar where I pushed back an ice cold ale and thought ‘This ain’t so bad. Monday night, women, games, a boat and booze.’




All aboard ...


Then I waited. And I waited, and waited some more. The boat, which was meant to hit at about 7pm, was late by a good half hour. Still, I remained positive regardless and looked forward to what was promising to be a relaxing and entertaining evening. We boarded, albeit slowly, and of course because I didn’t have an umbrella, I was absolutely soaked by the time I got inside. Some guy did me the courtesy of offering me some of his umbrella, but the wind was attacking at an angle that would have made Montgomery proud so the umbrella wasn't very helpful.

We rock in, I take my second beverage for the evening (And last as I was technically on my P’s and shouldn't have even had the first one - Please, if any of you are cops just ignore what I have said), grab a small show bag, spot Chad from Ubisoft and then take a seat. The boat was nice, it was like a party vessel and had lots of big screen TV’s around to guarantee you an angle on what was to come. I settled in, listened to some muppet jabber on for a good 10 minutes, then was deafened by the screams of Lost fans as season 4’s episode 1 kicked off.

What utter tripe that show is. Honestly, I think my IQ dropped back to single digits at times. I’ll agree that having never seen the show before it was a bit of a bad time to come into it, but man it just... *sigh* I’ll leave it be as I know some of you out there enjoy the show and I’m probably ragging on something in an unfair manner. Suffice to say that by midway through - and also after I’d dropped my free Cornetto on my work pants - I was looking forward to playing the game itself.

The show ended and everyone cheered, got another drink, and the games were loaded up. Amusingly, and I kid you not, one of the 360’s refused to work. I didn’t catch whether it was a RROD as the cause of the malfunction, but the embarrassed look the poor Ubisoft staff members had spoke volumes for.

I managed to grab a controller and started to have a go. As I had just picked it up, some bloke with a camera, a bright light and a microphone decided to interview me. He wasn’t very impressed with our conversation, which went much like the below



Seriously, does this guy look drunk AND stoned or what?


‘So, what did you think of the episode?’
‘Yeah, I think it was good.’

Flat out lie, but I figured I’d at least tell him what he wanted to hear.

‘Did you think it explained much?’
‘Not to me, I don’t watch the show regularly.’
‘Oh, right, umm well which one of the ladies did you think was hot?’

At this stage I was a bit ‘WTF?’

‘Well, the blonde one was hot. I liked her.’
‘So you’d sleep with her ay? Ha ha.’

Ok, I’m not lying about this. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried really, cause if I could I’d be writing for, like... Gamespot or something and getting cash for comment Alan Jones style.

‘Err, yeah I guess.’
‘So what are you here for, booze then? You’re pretty good at playing that game whilst you’re speaking hey!’

He was looking a little bit anxious now, as if he could suddenly tell the interview wasn’t going well.

‘Yeah well, I heard about the game and got a free ticket so I thought I’d come along.’
‘Oh right, so you’re a gamer. I tend to not like you guys much.’

I swear to you, that’s what he said.

‘Ah ha ha... ha.’

What else could I say?

‘Ok man, well you have fun playing your games!’

He walked off and I just stood there thinking ‘Is this for real?' By this stage I was really needing a beer to try and improve what was a quickly fizzling night. Anyways, I continued playing the game and found myself to be enjoying it a little. It was like a traditional point and click adventure game, ala Monkey Island, except heaps more serious and holding what I would probably class as depth. The game itself was one you needed to sit down and play through at your own pace, not as you’re trying to struggling to stand in what was effectively a dance club as the ground underneath you sways in the ocean. Still, I spent a good half hour walking around playing it.

It differed only slightly from what I could see of the TV show. The game put you in the shoes of a new character that had amnesia from the plane crash and what was probably a bump on the head. Your goal is to obviously get off the island, but also recover your own memories at the same time.

I ended up giving it to a disinterested observer, who looked more like he was enjoying chatting up the girl next to him than he was in anything else. I glanced at my watch and noticed that, lo and behold, I still had another hour left for the cruise.

Great.



Crowds of lost fans? Or are they just plain lost?


Needless to say I wasn’t particularly enjoying myself right then. I was sober as a judge, around a group of partying randoms with whom I did not know a soul, had a lovely stain on my pant legs of chocolate and ice cream, was still wet from the rain, didn’t exactly have an enthralling game to lose myself in and there wasn't a promo girl in sight. Add to this the fact that I didn’t have a business card on me, and I effectively ruled myself out of the chance to win a 360 so I wasn’t a happy chappy.

Skip ahead one of the slowest hours of my life and we disembark from the boat and I make my way at pace back up to where I parked my car. Now, for those of you who own something that is the slightest bit valuable, it’s often that you will inevitably leave or store it in places that could present itself as a risk to theft, or at the very least memory loss. As I rounded the corner to where I believed I’d parked my car, my heart slowly sank as I saw that ‘Shelly’, my beloved champagne coloured Mazda 323 was not where I had left her.

So, I resorted to the only option that remained to me; loud, obnoxious and extremely colourful language that echoed off the silently laughing buildings of King Street. I proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes trudging up and down the uncovered streets, laneways and roads of Sydney City in the puring rain, desperately looking for my car; Whom, I might eccentrically point out, is the only ‘woman’ in the world that I can truthfully say is always ‘there’ for me. So I’m sure you can understand why my eccentricity and worrying emotions kicked into high gear when I couldn’t find my car.

After locating my shiny little automobile (And kissing her on the bonnet in complete rapture), I quickly jumped in and made for a quick escape through the Cross City tunnel and off home. So, to sum it up, a night that was supposed to be a quiet and relaxing cruise to exhibit a TV show and new game, turned into one of the most frustrating, distressing and altogether wet nights I’ve ever had in my entire life. So to you, good sir, I bid you good night as I turn you to a song I’ve dedicated to my car, Shelly.




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