Every book, every song, every game needs a hook to succeed. A hook
is a catchy phrase or refrain or title that will stick in the consumer’s subconscious.
Video games have become quite adept at utilizing one- or two-word phrases to describe
not only their newest releases but entire franchises. The flashy, high-speed vortex
of video games is constructed around hooks. If I say Sonic, you think hedgehog.
If I say Crash, you think Bandicoot. You try it. Think of a popular game and I’ll
finish the title. Kong. See, it works–you were thinking Donkey. Now let’s try
Juggernaut … hmm. Juggernaut–I think of something immense and unstoppable.
Juggernaut–a villain from the X-Men comics. Well, neither is correct, as Jaleco
has instead taken the cerebral route. Their definition of Juggernaut is, “A
destructive, overpowering Force. (Also, Jaganath–an idol of Krishna, at Puri
in Orissa, India, annually drawn on an enormous cart under whose wheels devotees
are said to have thrown themselves to be crushed to attain enlightenment. In Hindu
it means Lord of the World.)” Not that I dispute this description. In fact,
I looked it up in my Funk & Wagnall. While I appreciate their attempt to stimulate
my intellect, in today’s fast-paced marketplace, intelligence is the kiss of death.

Juggernaut
is a three-CD point-and-click adventure game for the Sony Playstation. I don’t
think I have ever before wished for an adventure game to be shorter, but Juggernaut
would have benefitted from some tighter editing. The plot is intriguing and
unconventional: after viewing a splendid introductory cinematic that evokes memories
of The Exorcist, you are entrusted to save your possessed girlfriend’s
soul. To do so, you must enter her spiritual being and confront and defeat the
evil spirit that has taken up residence. Needless to say, an enormous suspension
of disbelief must now occur, as the majority of the game will transpire inside
the mansion that encompasses the compartments of your girlfriend’s soul. This
is an interesting concept that would seem to appeal more to the average computer
adventure gamer than the younger Playstation owner. But as we are about to discover,
a nontraditional plot does not necessarily warrant a departure from traditional
gameplay, and this is where Juggernaut begins to dismantle. Still the
plot is original and deserves its grade of A.

If Juggernaut had
been more surrealistic, more dependent on nonconformity, then it may have had
a chance. It is an interesting idea that is not fully fleshed out. Our journey
into the soul begins on an island. Movement is restricted until we discover a
painting that, when placed on the appropriate easel, allows access to the areas
represented on the canvas. This and the procedure we must then follow to enter
the soul’s “mansion”–we must shed our physical form and cross the threshold
spiritually–have a nice otherworldly feel to them. Once inside the mansion though,
a great idea is beaten to death. As you are in spirit form, you can only travel
through the mansion by passing through keyholes. To facilitate the physical act
of opening doors or collecting inventory, switching stations have been placed
throughout the mansion. These switching stations house either an adult or child
body, or shell, that you must occupy in order to complete certain puzzles. Only
certain body types can enter certain areas of the mansion. Doing this switch three
or four times would have been sufficient, but overkill registers at about the
twentieth switch because every time you make the body switch, you have to return
to the nearest switching station. This quickly fosters a tedium that is difficult
to overcome for the remainder of the game. Once the first CD is completed and
you begin to enter the other Microcosms, the game and the puzzles begin to resemble
every other adventure game you have ever played. While the new areas of exploration
are interesting–the Forest of Vengeance, Illusion Island–I often wondered what
these had to do with someone’s soul. It seems like a struggle to eradicate past
sins or a confrontation with people or situations from your past would be more
conducive to the overall theme. Not to mention that the game could have then veered
away from the traditional point-and-click-at-everything-on-the-screen scenario
it soon settles into. The puzzles become a mundane affair often solved by backtracking
or by chance. Puzzles grade: C-.

The prerendered graphics are grainy
with muted color that seems to have been washed of its vibrancy. The first third
of the game, spent wandering the mansion halls, is an endless progression of flowered
wallpaper that has that sickly yellowish color found in a smoker’s house. The
cut-scenes and full-motion video sequences are passable, but nothing exceptional.
The majority of the conversations are related through text, though there are some
exceptions, and the sound effects and soundtrack are meager, almost miserly in
their limited appearances. It does make you question why this game comprises three
full CDs. Graphics, sound effects, and music all get a grade of D.

It
is a shame that such an interesting premise soon disintegrates into a case of
“been there, done that.” With a little more effort, Juggernaut could
have been a game that caused some waves with its original premise; instead it
decided to settle for the mundane. I will be interested in seeing what the team
that created Juggernaut comes up with next, for their potential seems to
be lying dormant waiting to be exploited.

Juggernaut final grade: C-.