Pajama Sam in “No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside” — A RetRose Tinted Review
Recall —A Kid-Sized Quest
Recently, I had my mom out to visit me. I joked with a lot of people that I only knew we were going to Chipotle and Olive Garden. Past that, we’d make it up. I didn’t anticipate part of our trip-improv to include booting up the first Pajama Sam, but there you have it. The Pajama Sam series (and most of Humongous Entertainment’s library) was a huge part of my childhood dip into games, and remains behind my wacky little mannerisms as a kid. It was, after all, Pajama Sam who popularized wearing blanket capes in my house, not Superman.
For the uninitiated, the Pajama Sam series is on most PC game markets, so go and purchase that. The game follows a young kid, Sam, who dons a red blanket-cape to combat various banes of children everywhere, be it (in this particular title) darkness, thunder and lightning, or well-balanced meals. Players control Sam by clicking around the world, directing him about and interacting with the world through a wide (but manageable) variety of items found in-game.
Compared to Myst, Pajama Sam felt more my speed; this was a game for me, not for my parents. Compared to my growing library of Edutainment titles, Pajama Sam felt like more of a game than learning. It was like playing in a weird, but beautiful, Saturday morning cartoon where I could control the main character. Pajama Sam was a title, and a series, for kids. Bonus points if their parents got involved to watch and interact! Specific memories are hazy, but the times I can recall one of my parents “playing” Pajama Sam with me, whether to help in-game or just share the time, just felt better.
As I’ve rambled about in other pieces, a sense of independence is important for young learners and young people, and I remember that sense of freedom in Pajama Sam. I could go anywhere in the gameworlds (provided I helped out a friend in need), or otherwise solve problems to get there. And there was never a shortage of things to do: just exploring, finding an arcade cabinet in the mine shaft, brewing potions in Darkness’s basement, or just clicking around the world to see what happened.
The replay value was also great as a young player; items would have their locations switched around, requiring new items and new routes to be explored in order to complete the game. Despite the variety, I can more vividly recall a swarm of saved games, all partly completed, and taking a good long time to truly reach the game’s happy endings.
Revisit — Appreciating the Journey
Pajama Sam: No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside was released in 1996. It was perfect for 4–5 year old me, regardless of age recommendations. But what about 29 year old me?
Old Man me may not be as challenged by the puzzles that thwarted me as a young’n, but I appreciate the journey more than the objective now. The little bits and pieces that I may not have enjoyed as much in the past now stand as iconic moments. The Customs Trees make a lot more sense (and are hilarious) when you understand what “Customs” is. An in-game “Gratuitous Educational Content” warning hits differently, especially as a product of the Edutainment era. And if your game doesn’t have Carrot reminding you that “property is theft, man,” you might as well just start over. Best recurring character of the late 90s, full stop.
More than anything, looking back at how it must have felt as a kid playing this, it hit a lot of solid points. The main character was a kid (like me) who was afraid of the dark (like me). Sam found power in mundane items that meant a lot to him personally, like I did (my stuffed animals more than a flashlight and lunchbox). And Sam always trekked on to confront that which scared him by whatever means he could muster. It was aspirational, as much as a child protagonist could be to its child audience.
Pajama Sam doesn’t hold up to me as a game so many years later, but that’s only because I’d played it to dust when I was younger. So much of the map is still burned into my head, I can still recite the intro from heart, and know pretty much every puzzle solution without thinking about it too hard. Nonetheless, it holds up as a tangible form of nostalgia, a simpler, and more innocent time of fun. If I ever have any young folk visit and their guardians don’t want me “rotting their brains with those dang games” or something, I might pull Pajama Sam up and see how that goes. But I’m still looking for a challenge…maybe the sequels can scratch that itch. Haven’t memorized every square inch of those. Yet.
All images captured in-game.
