The nature of Germany was irrepressible.
The irrepressible nature of German culture is received in many countries with jealousy veiled in mocking jest about Scheiße porn and psychoanalysis, or open envy in the fetishistic worship of Oktoberfest. It has also given German humour a rather questionable international reputation. Dry, sarcastic German humour is seen as totalitarian analysis of the self in the guise of esoteric jokes; a sort of sexual or societal self torture. The more accessible—but often still highly intellectual—humour is immediately undercut because it does not repress the juvenile or the absurd on principle. The pretentions that make comedy acceptable to the discerning comedy connoisseur are presented alongside slapstick, vulgarity, silly voices and song.
And thus, there is a certain awkwardness to the English vocal performances that diminishes some of the emotion contained in the humour. As a character breaks out into an awful, meandering song—stringing together meaningless vocalisations to fill up the musical bar before their rhyme can be completed—there is a self-conscious cringing not of the character, but of the actor. When a character composes a particularly disgusting meal for a comrade to eat, there is the sense of boyish naivety; even of affection, but not of the selfish, almost sadistic streak that is central to Goodbye Deponia’s ultimate theme: redemption and the coming of age.
In short: the simple is performed without complexity for, in America and England, when a blancmange is playing tennis with a Scotsman, it is simply a blancmange playing tennis with a Scotsman. But in Germany, sometimes the blancmange is a cigar and the Scotsman a Jew.
Amateur noodling.
Beyond breaking out into amateur noodling, the script is a mixture of errant puns, inappropriate wordplay, and fourth wall breaking inner monologues, or commentary on events in the game or the adventure game genre as a whole. Though often relying on adventure game comedy clichés, these clichés are performed admirably, and never become the sole focus of the humour: the puns, the wordplay, and the interaction between characters (many of whom have been previously met in the series and who Rufus now heaps more and more amusing misery upon) compose a comedy collage which thus allows one joke to fall flat, for in its place will come another bound to hit the mark.
But even more enjoyable is the situational comedy that makes full use of the characters’ idiosyncrasies. Burdening a character with unexpected and unwanted children might be something of a sitcom cliché, but when nothing is learned from the entire ordeal and men wearing paedophile glasses become involved in the whole fiasco, then the humour is allowed to breathe refreshingly free. Indeed, one of the most enjoyable things about Goodbye Deponia’s sense of humour is its German sensibility: a black woman taking the place of a dancing monkey (complete with fez) is perfectly kosher, as are transgender characters. And because they are presented in the same context as all other characters (from the depressed to the despots, all shall be give enough rope), then there is something freeing in the humour—perhaps beneath the oppression and bullying, there are only other people. Most of whom are arseholes. Likeable arseholes, but arseholes nonetheless.
Arseholes that develop over an immensely enjoyable narrative arc that provides the series with a satisfying end. Goodbye Deponia focuses wholly on Rufus, a selfish, self-obsessed young man with the maturity of a young man. Only Goal, from the high (literally) society of Elysium (which is planning to blow up the rubbish dump that is Deponia before it escapes to a mythical utopia) sees any good in him, but as the game progresses some of his other more reluctant comrades become protective of him. It’s a satisfying progression that is almost poignant when, at the conclusion of the narrative, Rufus repays their trust and belief in him most touchingly.
Pardon? Je suis désolé, mais je ne parle pas bien le français.
Each section of narrative is bookended by the classic Greek chorus: a hobo with holes in his shoes and a seedy guitar. He provides the game with an irreverent musical tone, joining in whole heartedly with the wordplay and puns of the series, and making little attempt to sing much better than the amateur noodling of the other characters. This musical tone extends further, manifesting itself in one of the many mini-games that help to add variety to the pace of Goodbye Deponia. These mini-games are simple and easily navigated, but this means that instead of slowing down the pace as many obnoxious mini-game-like puzzles in other adventure games do, it actually achieves what it sets out to: giving the player a little respite.
Unfortunately, the use of mini-games is lopsided, with most mini-games concentrated at the beginning and the end of the game—the middle a long, expansive series of puzzles where direction is sometimes lacking simply due to a dwindling memory. There are a lot of puzzles metered out all at once, and it’s hard to keep track of a puzzle that started several hours ago when the item needed to solve it has finally popped up in the present with few clues as to its use beyond what has been lost in the annals of memory.
Though at first this freedom is exciting (moving from a very carefully, and overtly paced mixture of smaller puzzles punctuated by mini-games) with its introduction of a new and important mechanic (that helps add to the complexity of the puzzles), it eventually begins to drag; all the more so when some progress is made on a puzzle and there is no mini-game to punctuate it—the structure of the opening detracting from that of the middle. Nevertheless, it does mean that when the end of the middle section begins, and the puzzles start to reach their conclusions, there is an incredible sense of satisfaction as literally hours of work finally comes to a head.
It’s as if he’s never seen one before. But they’re pretty common in Australia.
The mechanic in question is centred on the cloning of Rufus: there are three of him stumbling their way around in the second section of the narrative (which comprises the vast majority of the game); each with their own distinct ultimate objective. But to achieve their ultimate objectives they must interact with one another. Item swapping becomes a necessity, and the Rufuses isolation from one another beyond their occasional ability to chat through gully trap grates actually adds to the experience rather than coming across as trite. It’s not only satisfying to see a puzzle solution beginning to take shape as one Rufus does something to indirectly change the geography of another Rufus’ world, but it’s also amusing from a narrative perspective as they help one another without knowing it, due to their competitive and selfish dispositions.
The puzzles themselves, despite their lengthy constructions, are often simple in their compositions—but because of their lengthy constructions, they are nevertheless immensely satisfying to solve. Though always logical in their solutions, sometimes they rely on pixel hunting; a fact which is never overly frustrating due to the easiness with which hot spots can be revealed (just press the middle mouse button); an action which receives no mechanical reprisal or moral judgement imparted upon the player. But frustration can begin to build—just as the stagnancy does—if one’s memory is as poor as mine, with little direction given to rekindle the knowledge of the anatomy of a puzzle hours after its dissection has begun when the diagnosis and remedy finally become available, but not readily apparent, in the form of a new item or piece of information or character.
Even so, Goodbye Deponia ends the series on a notably high note. The rubbish dump of Deponia is highly reminiscent of the outback setting of Beneath a Steel Sky in its ability to seem like an oasis in a desert; even if that desert is composed of dingy hotels and Nazi highboats rather than sand and mystical aborigines; and the oasis has been blitzkrieged into splinters and splints. The sometimes awkward animation (characters move without emotional relevance, and mouths briefly become stuck open during some speeches) is full of character; perfectly complimenting the amusing and sometimes emotional voice acting (much credit must go to the frau playing Goal, as her performance is deadpan in a sea of well considered overacting and melodrama). And, most importantly, it brings to a satisfying conclusion not only the world(s) of Deponia, but also the characters. Auf wiedersehen meine schöne.
