Document Analysis NLP IA
FREQ, RAKE or TFIDF
Summary (IA Generated)
Fight Crab, a game about crustaceans fighting other crustaceans, begins innocently enough.
The next thing you know, that same snow crab is now kaiju-sized, fighting in city streets against a similarly kaiju-sized lobster wielding a giant knife and revolver pistol.
That’s the ridiculous notion that Fight Crab bases itself on, and it commits to it wholeheartedly with an involved combat system and a variety of scenarios that grow increasingly bizarre.
A third-person, physics-based fighting game, Fight Crab is reliant on your ability to flip your shelled opponents onto their backs and make sure they don’t get up.
Each of your crab’s pincers is assigned to your controller’s left and right analog sticks, allowing for a free range of movement to push, lift, and swing.
Left and right triggers thrust your claws forward, and bumpers pinch them–it’s used as a blocking maneuver or to grab your opponents and other objects.
Turning your crab requires you to move both arms either left or right, and you turn the camera by clicking the analog sticks.
It is no doubt a convoluted and inelegant system that makes any kind of maneuver feel like a hard task–you’re never entirely in control of all your functions at once, and it often feels like you’re trying to steer a runaway tank.
Throw in some environmental weapons like trees and cars, a sword or two, boomerangs, rocket boosters, and maybe a lightsaber, and it’s hard not to light up in a confused glee when witnessing the pandemonium.
Never feeling like you’re completely in control can take its toll though, especially on harder difficulties.
The inability to quickly react can be frustrating; often, it feels like you’re fighting in slow motion, and there were times I had to double-check that my game’s frame rate hadn’t tanked.
Fight Crab makes it difficult to break the lock-on camera in order to survey the environment to rearm yourself; the rules of crab combat dictate that you always have to stare your opponent in the eyes.
Having such control over your limbs let me do things like grab an enemy crab’s arm as it was bringing a ridiculously large war hammer down onto me and hold it up as I pummeled and pinched its beady little eyes with my other arm.
Thankfully, the game allows you to simply resume your progress beginning from the opponent who beat you.
More importantly, the game’s escalating ridiculousness with regard to its enemies and stages is certainly enough of an incentive to keep you pushing through it–some fond memories of mine involve fighting a nunchaku-wielding crab atop a table located in a Chinese restaurant, going against a pair of ninja crabs equipped with shuriken and sai, tumbling around in a daycare with a couple of chainsaws, and going up against two crabs riding Vespas swinging around chains.
There are certainly many parts of Fight Crab that leave a lot to be desired–the UI and menus are garish at best, and outside of the crabs themselves and the energetic J-rock theme song, the audiovisual work is only serviceable.
Like the crab combatants themselves, Fight Crab feels like it smashed its ridiculous concept into a clunky, physics-based fighting system with gusto and didn’t let up until something kind of worked.
Fight Crab taught me that sometimes you just need to stop, take a minute to appreciate the beauty that lies within those colliding carapaces, and let yourself smile.