Gex: Enter the Gecko
(
1998
)
In the 1990s, everyone was looking to create the next big console mascot. Developers had seen how franchises like Mario and Sonic had become not just smash hits but iconography that was inseparable from the brands they represented. In that respect, Gex, a game about the titular gecko who communicates solely in dated pop-culture references, is nothing special. What is unusual though is the fact that Gex, however briefly, managed to achieve that much-vaunted status of mascot platformer. Gex was originally developed for the 3DO, a console that resembled a VHS player that launched in 1993 to some acclaim. At the time, it was the most powerful console on the market, but within a year it had fallen to the wayside, being displaced by The Sony Playstation and the Sega Saturn. The 3DO had never had always suffered from a shortage of quality games available on the platform and a lack of focused marketing. As the 3D0 sunk from the spotlight, the console acquired a reputation as being primarily a hub for semi-pornographic interactive movies like Plumbers Don’t Wear Ties [1994] rather than a real competitor to the big three: Nintendo, Sony, and Sega.
Development for the original Gex [1995] had started in 1993, shortly after the 3DO’s launch, but dragged on to 1995. Tragically, Gex succeeded in being the default mascot for the console, quickly becoming the bestselling game on the 3DO, but unfortunately, its success was on a console that was destined to be discontinued shortly thereafter. Gex succeeded where countless others had failed, only to have that dream quickly dashed from its hands. There is no such thing as a mascot for a discontinued console. From there the game was ported over to the Sony PlayStation where it and its sequels found a home, albeit never one that rose to the lofty heights of its competitors Mario and Sonic, or even the more moderate success of Crash Bandicoot.
Shortly after its release, both Gex [1995] and indeed the entire genre of 2D platformers were made seemingly obsolete by the launch of Super Mario 64 [1996]. The prevailing wisdom at the time held that if a game was to get any real measure of success it at least had to try and work in 3D graphics and gameplay. This was not always true, but only absolutely brilliant 2D games like Castlevania: Symphony of the Night [1997] could buck the trend and achieve a degree of commercial success. Now, of course, we know that the appeal of 2D platformers was completely different from that of its 3D counterparts and that there is more than enough space for games of both varsities. Somethings though, are obvious only in hindsight. As a result, pretty much every platformer from the later 1990s was borrowing ideas from Super Mario 64 [1996] to a greater or lesser extent.
Gex took to copying Super Mario’s homework with significantly more earnestness than most of the also-ran 3D platformers of the late 90s. So not only is the game a 3D platformer of the familiar model, but it also has a hub world, the media dimension, with gateways branching off to the various level. Each level has multiple challenges that you can complete to earn stars red remotes. Progression in the game hinges of collecting these red remotes. There are also White remotes which you can get by finding secret areas or amassing enough of each level's collectibles, collect enough of these and you'll unlock bonus stages which award you gold remotes upon completion. The only problem is, gold remotes are basically worthless on their own. No gates are unlocked by them in the hub-world, nor are any bosses opened up by collecting enough gold remotes. The only purpose they serve is to open up a few short extra levels, otherwise, they are only of value for someone shooting for a 100 completion.
The controls are just about the only thing that Gex didn't crib from Super Mario 64 [1996]. Rather than an overwhelming array of jumps, double jumps, triple jumps, backflips, front flips, and dives Gex is limited to a jump, a bounce, and a dragon kick. This makes Gex considerably easier it pick-up than Mario, which is certainly a plus. However, it also means that the player’s options are severely limited and causes the game to get stale rather quickly. In most of the platforming sections, there is a single correct way to approach them rather than a variety of options that can be used at the player’s discretion.
The graphics have aged just as poorly as you would expect from an early 3D game, though Gex is far from the ugliest 32-bit game on the market. It’s helped a bit by seldom attempting a realistic style, as the cartoony look of most of the game goes some way towards smoothing over the technological limitations. The sound though is downright lovely, and indeed shows a degree of sophistication and care that I’ve seldom seen. The soundtrack for each level changes depending on where you are and what you’re doing, rather than playing one track throughout. Different music will play when Gex steps into water vs when he’s in a desert canyon, and all music flows together seamlessly. It most resembles the reactive soundtrack of Banjo Kazooie [1998], though the changes of the soundtrack here are much more extreme. It is also nice, during the more linear levels when the soundtrack subtly intensifies when you are getting close to the ultimate objective.
The biggest problem with Gex: Enter the Gecko, then as now, was the camera. To be fair, lots of early 3D games had issues with camera control, even the much-beloved Super Mario 64 [1996] had a camera so frustrating it constituted a core element of the game’s challenge. Gex: Enter the Gecko’s camera, by comparison, is less unwieldy, but not without its own significant problems. For one thing, the game has a nasty habit of forcing the camera into a certain perspective, even if you switch the camera options over to manual. This sudden shift in camera position can make you momentarily lose control of Gex and send him headlong into an enemy or hazard. Less significant, but more annoying, is the way the camera makes an obnoxious sound whenever you try to shift it into a viewpoint that would put it inside another object.
The other most significant issue here is the levels, rather than having each world have its own unique theme the themes are re-used, sometimes to an almost absurd degree. For instance, there are three caveman levels and three horror levels (four on the PSX and PC version of the game) with another horror-themed bonus stage to boot. These quickly start to blur together, and I remembered making an audible sigh when I realized I was going to have to slog through yet another haunted house. As if to rub your nose in it, the game also includes several brief bonus levels with highly disparate and engaging themes. You have a James Bond spy movie bonus level, an Indiana Jones adventure movie level, and a crime level that includes gunshots and cries of “Where’s my baby?” in the soundtrack. All of these could have been spun-off into a full-fledged stage in their own right and it seems like a waste that they are just used as bonus stages with little to no impact on the larger progression in the game. At least let me earn Red remotes in them so I have a reason to play through all of them.
Perhaps the most devastating decision of all though was the choice to give Gex a voice which he occasional uses to spout some of the most annoying jokes ever inflicted on gamers. I understand the desire to give your main character a personality and the appeal of an irreverent rebel, after all, it was just this that had led to the success of Sonic the Hedgehog [1991] over the more generic Mario. However, when all you have to communicate your attitude with is a wink and a finger-wag, then there’s an upper limit to how annoying you can be. Give the same character a voice that constantly makes lame jokes and dated pop-culture references, and you have a recipe for disaster. Rogue Warrior [2009] is still the only game where giving the main character a tendency to constantly talk to himself improved the game in any meaningful way, and that only because the game’s script called for Mikey Rourke to spout such gems “fucking retard, you dead piece of shit.” It doesn’t help that Gex’s pool of one-liners is pitifully small and that he starts to repeat himself almost immediately. This is made worse by the fact that seemingly half of all the quips are variations on the phrase “it’s tail time!”
Then there is the question of just who the hell this game was for. Obviously, the bright cartoony graphics and mere fact that it a 3D platformer screams that it’s intended for children. Yet, what kid is going to get half of Gex’s references? Kids probably understood the shout-outs to Star Wars (1977) and maybe a few recognized the references to Planet of the Apes (1968) but for most of these I don’t think anyone in the target audience understood them at all. I know I didn’t when I played this for the first time when I was in Elementary School. I also suspect that when Gex says “now that’s what I call getting some tail” and “a little tongue now, a lot of tail later” most of the six-years-olds playing at home don’t understand what he’s saying… at least I hope that was the case. This confusing mix of childish style and overtly adult themes would only get stranger for the Gex series as time went on, as the next sequel would see Crystal Dynamics cast Playboy playmate Marliece Andrada as a character in their FMV cut-scenes; though I suspect that this may have been less a well-considered marketing decision and more of an opportunity to hang around with a playmate on the company dime.