A Gummy’s Life

A Gummy’s Life

A Gummy’s Life

Turning a Sweet Tooth into a Cavity

God bless the guilty pleasure. We know it’s bad. We know it’s bad for us, and we still love it. We love it so much we can ignore our shame. So what if “Barbie Girl” by Aqua sucks? You’ll still lip-synch to it. We also know everyone steals extra samples on the sample tray. It’s a special type of sin, but God forgives us. And just think of the last time you watched the Notebook while drowning in a tub of ice cream and tears? Never? Liar.

A Gummy’s Life is my guilty pleasure. It’s beautifully mediocre, and I adore it. I grow bored after 15 minutes, but I show it to almost anyone who comes over to play video games. It unabashedly preys on the gamers who crave couch multiplayer, and its presentation waffles between half-baked and r/CrappyDesign. I don’t regret buying it, but you might. It’s disgustingly magical, like how school bathrooms always smell like urine despite how frequently they’re cleaned. And that’s my review on school bathrooms.

What is it?

Only A Gummy’s Life could get eight players in one small room, have them beat the juices out of each other, and still make it out with a T rating. Across 15 stages, your one goal is to be the last one standing. You will kick, punch, and head-butt your opponents into unconsciousness and then throw their bodies out-of-bounds before they wake up. Alternatively, you can bash them until they’re bled dry. If you don’t finish the job, the stage often will, whether it be death by zombies or centrifugal force.

Each stage acts as a round, with the last three remaining players earning points. Both Free for All and Team Death Match play out as you would expect, and a sudden death option ensures your gummies start losing juice if the contenders overstay their welcome. King of the Hill tasks you with collecting the most candy and is about as appetizing as the Fun Dip dipstick (incidentally, known as “White Hard Candy Sticks” elsewhere). Meanwhile, Hot Potato has you passing around an STD through physical contact which causes the carrier to explode, and whoever doesn’t get exploded wins.

Outside of these modes, you have a training option which puts you and three computers in a lobby to duke it out forever.  Online play looks very similar because you’ll be stuck in this lobby until someone shows up. A Gummy’s Life’s online community was pretty much dead on arrival, although you may catch a random player every month or so.  There is no separate single-player mode on offer, so bring your buddies or learn to love bots. 

You can also infinitely dab, so there’s that.

What’s good?

  1. Anyone can enjoy the mayhem, and inexperience and idiocy increase entertainment value. If you play with the full eight players (as you should), each round devolves into chaos. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to play. Run, button-mash, and pray, and you might just win anyway. A Gummy’s Life mixes absurdity and violent catharsis for a gratifying experience, at least initially.
  2. The stages bring variety to how you die, adding that special zest to the gameplay that we so sorely lack in our everyday lives. One stage finds you climbing up a set of stairs while lava rises and rocks crash down upon you. Another features a honeycomb floor which drops out from under you if players occupy one spot for too long. A third lays out conveyor belts and is pretty bland, but if you die, you come back as a box, so that’s nifty. Most arenas have a unique gimmick, and learning to work with them is one of the few reasons to keep coming back to a Gummy’s Life.
As we will get to later, this stage’s gimmick is crashing.

What’s bad?

  1. The controls are awful. At first, it’s funny how difficult it is to control your gummy, but funny turns to frustrating when you try to develop any sort of mastery. Each button has a different action based on whether you tap or hold the button, but the action can change based on how long you hold. For instance, each trigger button controls an arm. Tapping causes you to flail your arms feebly, but holding the buttons briefly allows you to charge harder punches. Hold for too long, however, and now you’re grabbing whatever is closest to you. The controls are overly complex and frequently unresponsive, and for a game this simple, they’re not worth the effort to tame.
  2. A Gummy’s Life becomes stale as quickly as a Peep left on the counter. Interestingly, each character has different stats, and you would think this would incentivize players to master a certain gummy. However, the aforementioned control issues discourage true competitive play, and the stage hazards often place more emphasis on luck rather than skill. As for content, you can experience all that is offered in under an hour. There are unlockable characters theoretically, but I never came across one during my playtime.
  3. The presentation is wildly inconsistent. Although the stages and characters look fine, the menus appear hastily drawn and colored with a garish palette.  Poppy melodies last far less than 30 seconds but loop continually, recalling your fondest memories of “It’s a Small World,” but the sound effects squish and splort well enough. Winning results in little fanfare before your booted back to the menu.  I don’t expect red carpets to be rolled out for me, but this suspiciously stained motel floor could use some sprucing up.
  4. The game is buggy. Slowdown pops up sporadically, characters die inexplicably, and one stage (“A Frog’s Life”) will crash the entire game 90% of the time. For a game this small, a bug that big is egregious.
Just gorgeous.

What’s the verdict?

You’d be forgiven for thinking a Gummy’ s Life is barely palatable, and to an extent, I want you to think this. For the large majority of gamers, this game is the equivalent of savoring used gum from under a desk (seeing how it is a poor man’s Gang Beasts, which isn’t that great either). However, if you have a good selection of victims (i.e. friends and family), the first 15 or so minutes of playing with new gamers is a blast. No one knows what they’re doing; they’re laughing up a storm; and it’s just fun. If you can space out your play sessions, a Gummy’s Life could make for a great party game.

Arbitrary Statistics:

  • Score:  6
  • Time Played:  Over 5 hours
  • Number of Players:  1-4
  • Games Like It on Switch:  Human:  Fall Flat, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

Scoring Policy

Posted by Solomon Rambling in Review, 0 comments
I Can Do It Better – A Gummy’s Life

I Can Do It Better – A Gummy’s Life

Warning:  Sap Levels Dangerously High

When I had planned to propose to Player 2, I plotted what historians now call “the Mega Date.” I would begin the day by taking her out to a quaint waffle restaurant. We’d then go see a movie of her choosing. We’d follow up by returning home to open small gifts and binge on video games/Magic. I would end the day by taking her to a ritzy restaurant which featured an ornate garden where I would deliver the smoothest proposal ever known to humankind:

“You look absolutely stunning tonight. Spending all of today with you was almost perfect. There’s just one thing missing.” At this point, I would get down on one knee and throw the ring at her. The plan was sappy enough to drown us both in maple syrup, but I knew she would devour any form of romanticism.

Here’s how the day actually went:

Hipsters crowded the breakfast place, but the food was solid. Unfortunately, it oozed grease, and it attacked Player 2 with a vengeance during the movie. She excused herself from the theater, threw up, but came back, insisting on watching the rest of the film. When we returned home, I battled a panic attack as I questioned if a fancy dinner reservation was a good follow up to vomit. She assured me she was fine, so by dinner time, we trucked off to the restaurant.

I had not anticipated that it would be dark at 5:30 pm on a November night.  Supposedly I had an aneurysm at some point because I should’ve anticipated it’d be dark at 5:30 pm on a November night. As such, the garden proposal was a no go unless I hoped to use the darkness to hide my shame. I wandered around aimlessly, dragging Player 2 with me as I searched for a suitable replacement for the proposal. After ignoring her questions about where we were going for a good ten minutes, I discovered a cute balcony, turned to her, and delivered my monologue:

“You look pretty good but not perfect.” At this point, I collapsed to one knee and gave the ring as a peace offering. Fortunately, she was smitten enough by the ring that she couldn’t see how I had rammed my foot down my throat, through my stomach and intestines, and out my ass to kick myself in the balls.

And we lived happily ever after.

My first official entry in the “I Can Do It Better” franchise is a little like my proposal. I had a grand scheme to pick apart a game and reform it into something greater, and I was pretty good for the first ten minutes, and then I lost the plot. Random issues (such as Elgato sucking) made the journey harder than I would have liked. Part of me also feared I would blow chunks over my microphone.

Despite all of this, the whole experience was well worth it, and I would do it again if I had to. I believe I was the funniest and calmest I have ever been during a video. The sound quality was good, and I was able to add a nifty little sound byte at the beginning of the video. I even had a good time when I watched it the day after the recording. For once, I do not feel scared to post it on Twitter (apart from how I may offend the developers).

The moral of this story is shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll look pretty when you burn up in the atmosphere of some far-off planet. Things rarely happen as we expect them to, but sometimes it all works out. For today’s video and for my Mega Date, it did.

Posted by Solomon Rambling in Journal, 0 comments