Seaman

"A game should not become an obligation"

On Wednesday, at 9:16 AM, the monotone, yet strangely soothing voice of Leonard Nimoy welcomed me to the laboratory of Dr. Jean-Paul Gasse, informing me that my little fish-men were too cold, and had begun to produce droppings. Entering the laboratory, I turned on the light, carefully turned up the heater to exactly 19.9 degrees Celsius, and added oxygen to the tank. ''It's about time,'' one of the fish-men grumbled. Holding the microphone the recommended distance from myself, I held down the A button and spoke.
''Are you hungry?'' Looking at the VMU screen, I noticed that it didn't register.
''Are you hungry?'' I asked again. The Seaman I previously named, Vincent, swam up to me and responded. ''No, this is my happy face.''
Feeling a little bit frustrated that it misinterpreted ''hungry'' as ''angry,'' I asked a third time. ''I know that,'' said Vincent.
Shrugging, I went to the insect cage and picked out one of the newly-hatched larva (larvas? larvae?). It dropped into the tank with a small plopping noise, and slowly sank.
''No thanks, I'm not hungry,'' Vincent replied flatly. And so, having wasted a perfectly good larva, I engaged the Seamen in more ''conversation,'' tickled them, and left.

At some point around 8:00 PM that same day, the fifth (or was it sixth?) day since I took on the task of raising the fish-men, I realized it was time for me to pay them a visit. I also realized something else— I didn't want to. Seaman was no longer fun— it was an obligation. The only driving force to go tend to the creatures was that if I didn't, they would die.

Seaman is not a game, but a virtual pet. The same thing as Tamagotchis, those dreadful little things that were all the rage in 1997. True, Seaman talks to you (and vice versa), flings its dung at the wall of the tank, and devours its siblings, but it is still a virtual pet. Seaman thus becomes something you HAVE to do, and adds to your stress, thus defeating the purpose of video games entirely.

On a positive note, if you are the type who likes virtual pets, as opposed to the type who used to try to kill your friends' Tamagotchis when they weren't looking in order to show them how pointless and stupid the things really were, you'll love Seaman. Seaman evolves, and even I can admit that it's entertaining to watch your creatures change from little eyeballs with tendrils to fish with human faces, and into whatever they become after that (I deleted my data). As the creatures mature, their vocabulary expands as well. When they first become Gillmen, their vocabulary consists solely of baby talk. The next day, they can repeat simple words (hello, fish, Seaman, etc.) and understand simple phrases. The next day, their vocabulary is advanced enough for them to tell you that you suck. By the next day, they have adult voices, and ask you questions about your life. It's quite amazing at first, but it quickly becomes boring. The speech recognition is fairly good, but far from perfect, as illustrated in the above anecdote.

Also, if you're the squeamish type (if you cringe at, say, Resident Evil), you might not enjoy the game. In order for the first form of Seaman (which is a parasite) to evolve, it must be eaten by the nautilus (a sea creature that's sort of like a squid in a shell) in the tank, which it then devours from the inside. In a grim display of natural selection, the stronger Seamen suck the blood of their weaker siblings.

I guess that's all I can possibly say about the game. If you're big on virtual pets, don't mind having an extra obligation, and don't have a weak stomach, you'll love Seaman. Everyone else should just stay far, far away, as you'd only be plunking down $35 on something you'd grow to hate.

Reviewer's Score: 4/10, Originally Posted: 07/13/01, Updated 07/13/01