Katamari Damacy is a masterful fusion of two of the most important things that make video games fun to play: the mechanic and the personality.

The ‘mechanic’ encompasses the empirical actions that occur during the process of playing a game, something best captured in a game like Tetris; it begins and ends with a simple concept: Take blocks and line them up. Simple.

In this way, Katamari Damacy is certainly comparable to Tetris. The premise isn’t much more than a metaphor – a snowball. Using the analog sticks, the player takes a ball – the Katamari –  to pick up objects smaller than the ball by rolling over them, and then proceeding to grow the Katamari to pick up bigger objects and prompt growth.

The feel of the ball is authentic thanks to a clever physics engine. The ball rolls slowly up hill, quickly down them, becomes cumbersome when long objects are picked up and bounces around when struck. Simple.

Of course, in total Katamari Damacy is an insane, euphoric, clown-nightmare of a game.

The player takes the reigns of The Prince, the son of The King of All Cosmos, who, before the start of the game, got drunk and destroyed all the stars in the sky. So, the task falls upon you, The Prince, to roll up objects on Earth to restore the stars. After all, you owe them for bringing you into existence, right?

The game starts small, still emulating a concept-heavy game with a simple premise. The player rolls the Katamari around a room, picking up familiar objects like thumbtacks and candy. Pick up enough candy, then the Katamari become able to pick up pencils and batteries, then orange peels and Lego blocks, then cups. But the King of All Cosmos only give the Prince a limited time to reach the level’s specific goal, be it a certain size or number of fish. And right as the Katamari is ready to start really going and grabbing everything, it’s time to go.

But a level or two later, The Prince returns to the room, a little bigger now, and the mice that terrorized the first level are now mere fodder for you. But then the dog begins to overshadow you. You must roll it up. Why? Because it’s there – and it’s spiting you with its enormous size.

In this way, the game lays before the player a progressive set of goals that, though not stated anywhere in the game, drive the motivation of the player. The game is well aware that the player has been wanting to roll up into the fold that man riding a panda for three levels.Yes, there is a man riding a panda in the game, along with a band of trapeze artists walking around in a human stack that goes five-people high. There are rings of telephones and pineapples around trees. There are bears with balloons and go-karts, school kids with four-foot cowlicks, mermaids, giant squids, power plants, hot-air balloons and penguins. It all builds upon itself, much like the katamari.

The mechanic itself is not really exciting enough to merit the 10-plus hours it takes to make a dry run through the game. It’s the progression of size and the overwhelming feeling of accomplishment that comes with moving from a room to a house, then a city, then an island.

Towards the game’s end the rats that looked gargantuan in the first level are no longer even acknowledged. Soon, the player begins to roll up the entire house that once housed a level. Then, the city that once encompassed several levels is swallowed up in a single pass. Then the game reaches the breaking point where the gloves come off in a 25-minute epic that takes the player to the furthest reaches of the game.

Once the katamari escapes the confines of the city that once seemed limitless, the player begins to grab large buildings, ships, power plants, office buildings. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, once the novelty of giant squids and Godzilla have passed, it’s the ocean and sky scrapers. Then the islands themselves begin to come up, as the katamari grabs clouds and rainbows and tornadoes and everything that’s ever existed in the game.

And then there’s nothing left, just a ball and complete dominance over the world that once seemed overwhelming. Somewhere in there, under the skyscrapers and islands, there’s a pineapple that laid nearby at the level’s start. Seven levels ago, that pineapple was a big part of making the katamari – big enough to pass the objective. Now it’s nothing. Now, you are the king of everything.

Well, you are the Prince of All Cosmos at least.

Katamari Damacy is available for the Playstation 2 and is best purchased online. The copy used in this review cost around $15, shipping included.

Nick O’Malley can be reached at [email protected].