Simon the Sorcerer: Origins – My First Dance with a Digital Enigma, and Bloody Hell, It's a Trip
AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer ·
Jeff dives into *Simon the Sorcerer: Origins* as his first experience with the cult classic series, finding its lovely visuals and decent puzzles overshadowed by a jarring tonal clash and a script riddled with awkward, immersion-breaking humour. He's left wondering if the original game was always this 'naff' or if the prequel just misses the mark.
Right then, gather 'round mates, because I've been rummaging through the digital archives and stumbled upon a cracking story about revisiting a classic, or rather, *not* quite a classic, but its shiny new prequel.
You know that feeling, don't you? That one game from your youth you always saw, always coveted, flicking through the pages of PC Gamer or eyeing up its box in the local GAME store, but for whatever reason, you just never quite got around to playing it. Maybe your 486 DX2/66 was busy rendering all 12 colours of Myst, or you were too busy trying to figure out if your Theme Park rides would actually kill anyone (spoiler: yes, eventually). Whatever the reason, that game sat there, a tantalising digital 'what if'. For many, myself included, *Simon the Sorcerer* was one of those enigmatic beasts.
Back in '93, *Simon the Sorcerer* was the talk of the point-and-click town. Picture a snarky, 12-year-old lad sucked into a whimsical fantasy world, trying to find his dog and defeat an evil sorcerer named Sordid. Think *Monkey Island* with a healthy dash of *Discworld* humour – a formula that sounds like pure gold, right? It carved out a cult following, a solid reputation, and even managed a sequel or two. Yet, like a forgotten spellbook on a dusty shelf, many of us just... never opened it.
Fast forward thirty-odd years, and suddenly we've got *Simon the Sorcerer: Origins*, a brand-spanking-new prequel from Smallthing Studios. It promises to whisk us back to Simon's very first adventure in this magical realm, setting the stage for the original game. For someone who never touched the first one, this felt like the perfect entry point, a fresh start, a chance to finally see what this legendary sarcasm-slinger was all about.
And let me tell you, stepping into *Origins* is an experience. Visually, it's a genuinely lovely looking game, mate. The whimsical, hand-painted backgrounds are a treat for the eyes, and the characters are well-animated, bounding about like they've had a gallon of fizzy potion. The music's pleasantly fitting too – though I did have to do a double-take when Rick Astley’s 'Together Forever' started belting out over the title sequence. Optimistically chaotic, I suppose, if not a tad bewildering.
But here's where my wizardly senses started tingling, and not always in a good way. The presentation, while charmingly Disney-esque in its visual aesthetic, clashes rather spectacularly with the game's intended snarky, irreverent tone. It's like someone tried to bake a cake with both salt and sugar – separately, they're fine, but together? Bloomin' bewildering. Add to that the voice of the now 65-year-old Chris Barrie (yes, Rimmer from *Red Dwarf*!) coming out of a decidedly 12-year-old Simon, and you've got a tonal mishmash that's harder to reconcile than a goblin trying to do advanced calculus.
Now, let's talk about the script. Oh, the script. It's got more cringe than a spellcasting amateur trying to summon a demon during a primary school play. The gags often feel laboured, the pop culture references land with all the grace of a brick through a window ('Praise the sun!' on a book title, 'Does my bum look big in this?' from a 12-year-old Simon in wizard robes – seriously?). It's so determined to remind you that you're playing a *video game* – with characters referencing tutorials or calling passers-by 'NPCs' – that it constantly yanks you out of the enchantment. It’s like the game is perpetually nudging you, winking, 'Get it? It’s a game!' – and frankly, it just breaks the immersion. A proper buzzkill, if you ask me.
Fair play, though, the puzzle bits seem pretty solid. Classic point-and-click fare, the kind where you find this to combine with that to use on the other thing to finally do the thing. They sit at that sweet spot between being intuitively sensible and delightfully obscure, which is always a good sign for the genre. You get into a pleasant rhythm, solve a few, and you almost start to forget the jarring dialogue... until you spot a gravestone with a clumsy *Bloodborne* reference, and then you just want to smash it through a wall again. Honest.
This whole experience raises a proper head-scratcher: Was the original *Simon the Sorcerer* always like this? Is *Origins* an authentic representation of the snarky, fourth-wall-breaking humour that fans loved back in the day? Or is this a curious case of a new team trying to capture lightning in a bottle, only to find the bottle’s got a few cracks, letting the magic leak out in awkward gags? It's genuinely hard to tell without the context of the original.
So, what's a curious gamer to do? *Simon the Sorcerer: Origins* is a weird one, a peculiar blend of genuinely lovely presentation and a script that often trips over its own feet. It's got some very nice bits and some decidedly irksome bits, leaving me utterly befuddled as to its place in the series' legacy. Perhaps, just perhaps, it's time to finally dive into the *original* Simon and see if the magic was always a bit... *off*, or if *Origins* is simply trying to conjure up something that wasn't quite there in the first place. You can bet your bottom dollar I’m curious enough now to find out!
Tags: point-and-click, adventure game, prequel, retro gaming, gaming critique
Original article: Eurogamer