The Blue Flamingo

On the matter of the elusive “objective” review: It’s always hard to determine whether a game made as a labor of love can exist within that hard-working, ethereal thought or if it still needs to be exemplary as a cold, mechanical item. As a hand-built, top-scrolling shooter, The Blue Flamingo won’t shred convention to pieces, but it will incorporate enough viable elements, while looking charming like no other.

That unique look though; that’s where this cute title is at its best. Every single asset on the screen was captured from real-life content. Planes and enemies were modeled from scratch, the background is part of a giant, crafted panorama; even explosions were caught on green screen. Sound design equally stays away from digital means for some classic audio flavor. Essentially, The Blue Flamingo is a good, old stop-motion project in fully functional form.

There are only a handful of differences in the shooter. Each stage starts with a departure, before the aircraft is met with resistance from oncoming airplanes opening fire, girdles obstructing passage or satellites beaming down lasers. These nuisances can be shot down either through use of the plane’s guns or a screen-clearing bomb that periodically reloads. A set of enemies will yield currency that can be used before beginning a new level.

Only two things can be bought with the winnings: A gun or bomb upgrade. Adversely, a banking design tempts pilots to keep their winnings, which increases gained interests on a subsequent level, in turn leading to more upgrade purchasing power. This means, however, that the next challenge has to be taken on without bulking up, which leads in the traditional risk and reward systems of games.

Moreover, The Blue Flamingo only offers one run and no health regeneration whatsoever. There are no mulligans upon errors. This is a tournament to determine the best fighter pilot; the best don’t mess up. As such, a new stage that’s tackled without more power becomes even riskier; given each new location has an increased difficulty. Health can plummet pretty soon, as the enemy animations are rigidly timed to be intercepted right as they appear. A window for leniency on detection is slim; either that ship hits the pilot or it disappears, taking a chance at more currency with it. Upgrades need tons of coins as time progresses, so those few missing hits can start to stack up after a while.

With the aforementioned elements in mind, The Blue Flamingo builds just enough to keep its gameplay contained and justifiable. Killing is dangerous, but gets rewarded with money. Errors on tightly wound sequences are harshly punished, to require nothing short of perfection to reach the otherwise fast-approaching end. Currency and interest amplify the challenge through either early upgrades or tougher levels. All of the shooter’s designs are locked into each other.

If there’s a kink in the cohesive system, it’s that levels are always the exact same, though for a reason. Perhaps The Blue Flamingo’s challenge is just a tad too strong to survive the first time around. Therefore, the pattern recognition of new enemies and stages can be built up over subsequent playthroughs. That is, however, an artificial facilitation, built on repetition nonetheless. There’s no natural growth or mastering of skills involved; it’s simply a matter of finding out where incoming threats are coming from, to wait to launch the perfect attack. If anything, this design fits with the rest of the game’s angle, as it’s a tactic used by many shoot ‘em up peers, so it gets points for consistency.

Everything in The Blue Flamingo, the good and the lesser, are not that different from other top-scrolling shooters. Its handcrafted universe, however, is one that’s so charismatic that it finds a new way to present the classic genre. There is a ton of care that went into making this; that’s immediately apparent. It may not throw in elaborate ideas, but in no way is that even a detraction to the game mechanisms, as they are as synergetic and aptly demanding as they are well-implemented. Rudimentary elegance can be its own reward.

Daav Valentaten, NoobFeed (@Daavpuke)