ChoroQ
Not too long ago, the video game business was a relatively small affair, with a small, but loyal following. The intimacy of the gaming relationship was such that your average gamer not only knew all about
the current titles, he knew what was in development, what had been scratched, and what was just a twinkle in his favorite developer's eye. Those days are long gone, and shelves are crammed full of games you've never heard of by developers you didn't even know existed. To get noticed these days, unless a game has "Madden" or "Square Enix" on the packaging, it needs to bring something completely new to the table, a nifty gimmick or crafty angle. To that end, ChoroQ combines game genres that, at first glance, don't really seem to go together: racing and RPG. Upon further examination, however, you realize that the game is so bad that the larger question of genre mixing is rendered completely moot. I mean, who really cares if mango juice and Sprite mix well if the bar in which you were going to drink said cocktail is located on the side of an erupting volcano? Home Sweet Home
Gentlemen, start your engines
When combining a racing game with a role playing game, the obvious choice would be to cast the player in the role of the driver, or perhaps even the owner of a racing team. Evidently the creators of ChoroQ felt that put players at too great a distance from the action and decided to cut out the middle man, as there's not a human to be found anywhere within the candy colored confines of ChoroQ's bizarre little universe. Instead, the main character is the car itself. A talking car that makes friends and sends letters. Yeah, it's a little weird. You begin the game by picking a garage, a keychain, a gender (perhaps that determines whether or not the car is a stick shift), a birthday, and, of course, a name for the car. Once christened, the car is free to explore its new town and get to know its neighbors. A quick drive along the city streets introduces you to key locations, such as the body shop, the paint shop, the florist, the post office, and the hospital. If your Choro (that's the car) encounters other Choros along the way, a conversation will take place. Although most of the time the conversation is little more than automotive small talk, neighbors will sometimes provide helpful tips that reveal new activities, such as playing chicken against another car, or checking the bulletin board for the best race times.
Of course, it's only polite to drop in on one's neighbors from time to time, and it's certainly no different in the land of ChoroQ. Of course, since the town is populated by cars, there's a bit less doorbell ringing, and a bit more rolling into garages involved, but the general idea is the same. The other cars in town don't have much to say, though, and are often quite rude, so hopping from house to house doesn't quite have the same charm or appeal as it does in an Animal Crossing or a Harvest Moon. In fact, it doesn't have any charm or appeal of hopping from house to house. Navigating around town is a bit of a pain as well, since the Choro gas pedal seems to only have two settings: bat out of hell and stop. Fortunately, hitting the right shoulder button brings up an easy to read, clearly marked map, so that finding a desired location isn't as difficult as actually getting there.
The real meat of Story Mode is accessed from the home garage. Considering how unrewarding and generally annoying driving around town is, most of your time playing ChoroQ will likely be spent looking through one of the home garage menus. The one good thing about taking the time to visit every location in town is that after it's been visited, a shop is automatically added to the "Internet Shopping" database, and items can be purchased from the garage. This makes upgrading the car much, much easier than it would be if you actually had to drive from shop to shop every time the chassis or the tires needed to be upgraded. Races are also accessed through the garage menu, and there are plenty to choose from. At first, the only race your car is good enough to finish, let alone place in, is the Beginner race, but winning nets you 1800 coins, and you can compete in it as often as you like. Building up a bankroll is a great idea, since the starting car needs a major overhaul. Other cars will give you advice about what part should be upgraded next, such as tires for better traction, steering for improved maneuverability, or an engine for better acceleration. Better parts add HP to abilities, pretty much just to remind you that you're playing something RPG-esque. Considering the wide array of parts available, along with the different body styles and colors available, you could fritter away quite a bit of time customizing your little car.
Of course, the problem with customizing the car is that you have to first earn the money for the parts, and that means you have to race. Although there are a host of races open to you at any given moment, varying in geography and difficulty, they're pretty much all universally boring. Super Mario Kart offers far more challenge and better AI than ChoroQ does, and the laboring engines of the tiny cars sound like tests of the Emergency Broadcast System. Or perhaps a chorus of dentists' drills. Either way, it's not exactly pleasing to thine ear. To be fair, upgrading parts does have a clearly discernable impact on the ability of the car, so at least you're never left with that "why did I just spend 7000 on a new engine?" feeling. On the other hand, the need for a new upgrade often won't become obvious until mid-race, as your Choro flounders in the water as other cars float by on their pontoons. Whoops. Guess you'll just have to hit the 'net, buy the upgrade and try that race again. This "Surprise!" effect happens far too often. If I'm going to lose a race, I want it to be because I was simply out driven, not because I brought the wrong shopping list with me to the car mart.
If you want to skip the RPG aspect of the game, there's always the Quick Race option, in which you simply pick a Choro, pick a track, and go. The racing here sucks just as much as it does in Story Mode, but at least it's over with quickly.
My eyes! My eyes!
Visually speaking, ChoroQ is impressive. I don't remember seeing a game quite this blocky or low-res on the PS2 before. In fact, I'm not sure I've seen one quite this bad on the Playstation, either. Despite the game's emphasis being entirely on the cars, the actual car bodies show next to no detail, and the exteriors in town look remarkably like beginner exercises in a 3d modeling class. Every building in town has the exact same interior: checkered floor, checkered stripe along the wall. Sure, the colors change, and sometimes there's a design in the checks instead of a solid color, but that's about all the variation there is. The tracks for the races are equally unremarkable. No, I take that back. Remarks should definitely be made about them, but I'm guessing the censorbot would take issue with what I'd like to say.
A for effort, guys, really, but…
I do admire Atlus for sticking its metaphorical neck out and trying something new. On paper, ChoroQ sounds really charming, cute, and weird in that oh-so-Japanesey kind of way. If it had been given Hello Kitty-esque graphics and a simpler interface, this could have been a really great title for the younger set. As is, though, the driving isn't fun, the RPG element is too simplistic and boring, and it's almost literally painful to look at. Even though it's dirty cheap, don't bother picking this up, unless you have a "can you believe they actually made this?" collection.
