I don’t know about you, but for me videogames have always been an escape from the trials and tribulations of the real world. No matter what happened that day, I could always go home and kill zombies, shoot Nazis, crash cars, skate, or die. Judging by the front of the box, my quest in Diner Dash looked like I was going to assist a Bratz doll in her quest to serve foot at diner. That’s a real job, as in a job that real people really have. Why would anyone ever want to do this in a videogame?
Yes, laugh all you like. I thought it was hokey too, but then ten minutes later I’m freaking out because the restaurant review person has made a surprise appearance and I forgot to serve her coffee beforehand. What horrors could have caused this mid level freak out? Why, owning and operating my own diner, of course.
Excuse me, Flo
The presentation is actually quite marvelous. You’re Flo, a fresh faced waitress who has apparently quit her day job in order to fulfill her ultimate fantasy; owning an operating a diner franchise. Of course, no one starts out at the top, so Flo’s going to have to transform her bottom rung Denny’s-esque filth into an upper echelon, IHOPish establishment. While some might describe this as process as purgatory, the mechanics behind such delusions of grandeur are rock solid. Via some point and click maneuvering, you ultimate goal is to acquire as many points as possible in your quest to upgrade your heart and soul eatery.
As customers come in to be served, you’re charged with the task of seating them and adhering to their every need. Early on this will consist of taking your customers order, submitting it to the kitchen, and then finally busing their dishes away to the washer. An increasing number of customers will patronize your diner simultaneously, and bonus points can be achieved by completing multiple tasks in one run. For example, if tables 3 and 4 are both ready to order, you can collect both and drop them off at the kitchen at the same time, resulting in a significant increase in points. The higher number of same tasks you chain, the greater amount of points you receive.
Eventually, after you’re seating six-plus groups of people, chaining takes a backseat to just keeping your customers happy. This is mostly easily achieved by catering to all of their needs in a timely matter, but other factors must also be taken into consideration. Take into account the following issue; a family decides to go out with their screaming child in tow. Normally this would upset every patron within a ten food radius, but in Diner Dash you’re given a remedy for every problem; just grab a scream-silencing high chair for the young pup.
Further complicating Flo’s life is the variety of freaks and weirdos who seem to populate her diner. These people include the likes of the cell phone guy, who’s obnoxiously loud conversation is not unlike the previously mentioned screaming infant, and the old guy who shows up and sits at a table forever with no agenda whatsoever. When lines are forming for a table it’s these people who cause your waiting customers to slowly lose their nerve and become unhappy. Thankfully, some of these fears can be eased by providing (with sufficient points) a bench for them to sit or summon a harpist to lull their anger away. Still, it’s in your best interests to do everything as fast as humanly possible.
DASH Indeed
Seriously, one thing I cannot stress enough is the breakneck pace at which the Diner Dash runs. Every decision has to be made on the fly with little or no planning and zero room for error. I was playing the game with such intensity that I found myself yelling expletives at idiot parents who brought their whining children to my table and scared away the rest of my customers. After a while the tasks become second nature and you’re taking care of your customers like a pro, but the initial learning curve was way higher than I assumed it would be for a typical game of this caliber.
Soon enough I began to figure out the culprit responsible for making me want to hurl my PSP into the wall; the control scheme. The d-pad is just about the worst means of control imaginable. Early on, with only two or three tables, it’s not bad. It’s the later levels, with their multi-leveled stack of tables, that are an absolute nightmare. For example, if I’m at the busing station and I need to stop by the table to my immediate left, I can’t just push left. I have to push left, which takes me to the bar, then down one table, then right to get to the intended table. Basically, I have to encircle my prey before I can close in and destroy it. The system is begging for the DS’s stylus or something similar
Graphics and sound are akin to a family sedan; they serve their purpose without going out of their way to offer anything new or otherwise outstanding. Flo does move with a fervent pace and as she rushes everywhere without looking ridiculous, and the customers emote well enough, but the visual quality is on par with your basic Flash based games. The background tunes appear to have been recycled from an era when thirty second MIDI loops were the standard and were muted accordingly within twenty minutes.
Repeat Customers?
Beyond the main game, Diner Dash is rather barren. Every available resource for this style of point and click gameplay is spent during Flo’s epic quest to rule Dinerdom. There’s nothing else to do because there is literally nothing else to do. Still, a survival mode and a basic versus mode (game sharing is absent – why?) do their best to extend the shelf life of this austere title.
Diner Dash is also guilty of exploiting the growing trend of taking simple, flash based games to handheld systems and wringing them for all they’re worth. When I can play this for half the cost (or free, depending on what version of the game you want) on my PC, the PSP’s $30 price tag isn’t quite worth the average gamers time. The severe lack of gameplay options also fails to safeguard against more than one play through. Once you’ve established your diner empire you’re likely to leave it frozen in time for the rest of eternity.
