VERSION: 0.7.101
A significant degree of effort was clearly invested into gathering the multimedia assets and coding in Java, both of which are genuinely laudable in a market otherwise awash with Poser-based RenPy and RPGMaker titles.
Sadly, it is in pursuit of a subpar game.
Paradise Found purports to employ a
consistent narrative that fits the real porn they use, a statement the developer defends to such an extent they essentially advertise it with that tag in their signature. The delusion implicit in that statement is baffling, given the grotesque contrivance used throughout the game to support said ideal.
Take, for example, a lengthy scene presented in the introductory portion...
The player is in their therapist's office, ostensibly wrapping up a session. Their therapist, having discovered that masturbating aids the player's memory-loss, has concocted a scheme to facilitate that which encompasses the use of some less-than-legal pills to free them from certain inhibitions. The therapist offers them some "champagne" which she has spiked with a pill.
So, what's the problem?
- The therapist offers the "champagne" in a mug, even making an (awkwardly written) excuse that she doesn't have any other glasses.
- The image displays the therapist holding out a mug.
...so?
Well, why champagne? What was wrong with coffee? Or just a glass of mineral water? You know, the things normal professionals offer their clients. Frankly, even in porn, I can't recall ever seeing a "doctor" of any description providing a patient with alcohol and mind-altering pills simultaneously. The developer, however, intent on making the pictures fit the narrative, rather than working flexibly with what they have at hand, opted to make this moment some sort of celebration by adding champagne to a clinical scenario and using a mug to serve it.
But that's just where it starts...
Shortly thereafter, the therapist notes, specifically, that she has a "purple folder" on her desk she wants the player to "look at."
Yes, it's literally written that way. "Purple folder" to look at in her office. Not "some papers" or "a few notes," nor even "a few documents I'd hoped to run through with you," no: "
a purple folder."
Who, in their right mind, has ever defined a document by the color of its container?
"
Oh, hey, I hoped you might drop by and read my blue book tonight..."
"
Sorry, I'm busy with some stuff from work in a manila folder."
Bizzarre, right? So, why would the author frame it in that fashion?
You know why. As do I.
The contrivance, again, is in service to fitting the picture.
The "therapist" in the photograph is holding an orangey-red folder in hand and perched at the edge of a desk on which a
purple folder rests. Frankly, I'd never have noticed it if the author hadn't specifically mentioned its color, I'd have focused instead on the documents in her hands.
...and, still, that's only the tip of the iceberg.
- The man in that image is clearly not the same used elsewhere to represent the player, given that he's wearing a suit and tie.
- The therapist is clearly subservient to the man, as he is sitting BEHIND the desk and in the only office chair available.
Tell me, when were you last invited into a doctor's personal office and thought it best to take their seat? To sit at their desk, while they are alongside you. Heck, remove the doctor from the scenario and it's still absurd. Ever venture into an attorney's office for a consult and sit at their desk? Wander into a mechanic's shop and sit behind the counter? Stroll into your local grocery store and assume a position behind the till?
No? Of course not! No one would.
But, again, the narrative must contort itself to fit the picture, because...
Well...
Uhhmmmm.....
Photo-editing software? Cropping?
What do you mean?
What is that? You... you mean it's possible to edit things from a photograph?
Say, remove the many, obnoxious logos and watermarks from the images the developer appropriated? Crop out items that force them to skew the story to fit the picture rather than working flexibly?
Barring such, we are left with gems such as these and myriad others...
"I like your panties. Your blue panties" BECAUSE the picture has blue panties in it.
"I reached out and grabbed one tit" BECAUSE the picture shows the man with a hand on only one of her breasts.
Jarring doesn't begin to describe it. The entire game plays out in robotic fashion as the author fails to grasp that pointing out specific details on display is both uncharacteristic of normal human behavior and a disservice to the idea of narrative consistency.
Which brings us to the gameplay.
Even moderately observant players will have noted that other reviews feature the word "grind" quite often. They, in my opinion, vastly understate the term. Paradise Found puts hardcore MMOs to shame. On its default setting, there is no progress without grinding repetitive scenes, none of which offer any semblane of titillation or character development. Grind, grind, grind... then enjoy a jerky, low-resolution two to three second animated GIF.
Thrilling.
Again, the lack of proper editing is at the forefront, as logos for premium pornographic sites are in evidence everywhere and no effort has been to taken to seamlessly loop any motion. Watching women jerk back and forth between short clips of animation may have been rewarding in the past, but in 2020, when I can find the entire, fluid, high-definition source on porn-sites in a matter of seconds: not so much.
Most egregiously, however, is the worst aspect of the game by far and, somehow, the MOST contrived: the memory-loss mechanic.
I cannot, in good conscience, dock the author any points from some hypothetical score for their overwhelmingly poor understanding of memory, nor the silly manner in which they attempt to implement "amnesia" as a narrative tool. It's porn. The standards for accuracy are quite low. None of it makes sense, memory doesn't function that way but, who cares?
No, the flaw lies in the
gameplay mechanic itself.
The player has a 100-point bar representing the integrity of their memory which can be reduced by various actions throughout the game, including some of an erotic nature (which, yes, rather defeats the point in an erotic game). The player loses some each day and has it restored a predetermined amount each morning they take a pill.
Landmark moments in the game, however, can only be surpassed by sacrificing a pill to spike various women's drinks. In another strained bit of dialogue, the player is prohibited from asking for more via their therapist after the first spike, lest they, you know... have fun?
Progress is also horrendously gated, with events marked on the map with little clicky-buttons over which the names of women appear when they can be interacted with via such, color-coded to correspond with one of several states that boil down to: new content, grindy content, old content, new content you can't see for one of several reasons.
Consequently, you spend all your time clicking, clicking, clicking and clicking some more, following a rigorously linear path of locating the name that is green and has a star beside it. Click. Progress made. Click the next one. Click, click... no green stars? Advance the time, click, click, advance, click. Repeat thirty times.
Watch a janky animated clip.
Repeat.
But, wait, what's this? An opportunity to spike their drink? Cause them to loosen up a little, the promise of seeing something new... so you do it. You know, as the game hammered home, that it will cost you some of your memory-meter as you can't recover that pill (nor take a different one, I mean, heaven forbid you take the pill you set aside for Friday on Wednesday) but that's not a problem, you have plenty of points and the loss won't faze you.
You spike the drink.
Click through the new event.
Progress!
Now, to click the next green name on the ma---
There aren't any. Hmmm, guess you'll have to sleep.
GAME OVER.
Yes, this game has hard fail-states for memory loss.
It is utterly beyond reason. It forces you to grind, clicking endlessly through the same stale, unrewarding content to raise a superfluous value in a bar perched atop a genuinely amateur-tier GUI. But you must, time and again, click the button that says "Skip Event (+10)" time and again, saving you the dozen clicks of watching it for the tenth time (hoping something would change and being consistently disappointed that nothing ever does) but still, you're just clicking tiny buttons on a city map.
So, in conclusion, Paradise Found may be accurately summarized as a game in which you will spend 90% of your time clicking bog-standard buttons on a rudimentary city map, 8% looking at commercial pornographic images and the last 2% using the janky save-system to avoid instant-fail states.
ART ------------------------------- 6 / 10
Fantastic models, lack of attention to editing, jerky animations.
DIALOGUE ---------------------- 2 / 10
Contrived scenarios, innumerable grammatical errors.
GAMEPLAY ---------------------- 1 / 10
Click, the game. Mechanically unsound, repetitive and grindy.
INNOVATION ------------------- 2 / 10
Worthy goal, lackluster implementation.
SCORE ============== 11 / 40
Do not play. Requires extensive work.
CONSTRUCTIVE CRITIQUE: See other titles in a similar field for inspiration as to the gameplay shortcomings. Consider employing an editor, even on a voluntary basis, and reformat the text to better facilitate ease of reading. Alter the UI, both to reduce the CPU overhead and create a more appealing aesthetic; free resources to this extent are available on DeviantArt and other sites. Acquire a digital media editing suite, crop and alter images as needed. If necessary, seek some aid to create looped animations and consider the addition of transitions to soften the repeat when that isn't possible. Abstain from noting specific elements in the media in an attempt to make it appear as though they are suited to your narrative; rather, alter your dialogue and prose to better suit them and expand on character motivations.
