Donky Kong Country, the start of a relationship between a Japanese publisher and a British Studio to make great games to come. This is not the first time I played the original DKC but this time I finally beaten the game because this game is not easy and if you are playing co-op multiplayer where you are playing as a team it will certainly start arguments. If I were playing this back then I would probably been wowed by the technical marvel of pre-rendered 3D graphics in my SNES platformer but I am not from 1995 and the allure and awe does not grasp me however what I am really interested in is getting the original 3D models for DKC to be found and messed around if they are still around. The graphics might be of its time but still I acknowledge its significance and honestly I think I vibe with a lot of the textures that this 16-bit game has to offer. The gameplay however unlike the graphics is needlessly difficult and for some sections of a level it is nearly Sisyphean as the game eats up all or almost of your lives. Fortunately, there is the infinite lives oversight in Millstone Mayhem or seemingly infinite lives that you can use to get the maximum amount of lives and then some so you can keep trying in that one difficult portion. One thing I have a gripe though and I believe this is due to limitations of the system but the game is really ungenerous with save points in my perspective at least and even going back to a formal area with Funky Kong is also hard so if you enter a new level without saving you can not go back to the previous area otherwise which is a bummer but it adds to the challenge of this game. While the levels are difficult they are fair and one beautiful thing besides the music and atmosphere of Donkey Kong Country is this feeling of a flow state where you are just going with the level avoiding hazards and making perfect inputs. It is a beautiful feeling that I do not get from many platformers besides this one. I think I recommend Donkey Kong Country but I do not know if I am really feeling up to 101% the game just yet. Otherwise though, a great story for a partnership that lasted a grand eight years of gaming history to appreciate.

I had never played the original Donkey Kong Country before, a statement I can attest is only slightly untrue. This was my first time playing the SNES version of this game, as the GBA remake of DKC was one of my first games. I shared it with my older sister, and we'd try to complete every level with Diddy Kong so his face would appear everywhere on the map screen.

If you know anything about me, you'll know that my admiration for Diddy Kong has only increased.

The original entry in this series stands as a shining example of a 2D platformer done right. I'm going to berate Mario for a second here, so please avert your eyes if this sounds upsetting to you. I started playing through Super Mario Wonder a while ago and enjoyed it, but something just wasn't clicking. The levels in that game, while admittedly tightly designed and polished, wash over me without leaving an impact. I'll likely explore that a little more once I finish the game, but the 2D Mario series has always had this effect on me.

Donkey Kong Country reminds me what 2D platformers can be, in the same ways as Rayman Redemption, Yoshi's Island and a more contemporary example such as Pizza Tower. Levels can hook you atmospherically, an incredible strength of this primate platformer. Words cannot begin to describe how wonderful this soundtrack is, and while we have to attribute most of the credit to David Wise, one of my favourite tracks - Ice Cave Chant - was composed by the oft overlooked Eveline Fischer. The soundscape, combined with the timeless, immersive visuals builds the so-called Donkey Kong Country into a place I can enjoy sitting around in just as much as I do jumping around it.

The jumping is no slouch either; almost every level has you contesting with something unique, and no mechanic overstays its welcome. I'd even say that some levels could have done with expanding their ideas, but it's clear that brevity was one of the team's core goals and I can't blame them for it. Some of these levels are truly brilliant: a creepy cavern filled with kremlings that have to be disabled constantly by touching barrels, a tense floating platform that needs to be refueled lest you be tossed into the void and the myriad of levels that play with the iconic barrel mechanics in new ways. A lot of these are gimmicky, but I don't say that as a bad thing. I appreciate how often the game is willing to toss you into new territory - and isn't all that forgiving at that.

There's a tense balance in the life system here. The game is hard enough that you'll be draining lives likely quicker than you obtain new ones, and due to the absence of save points during certain portions, you're often forced into deeply uncomfortable stretches where one more death could cause you to repeat multiple levels. I'd understand someone using this as a critique, but to me it sucks me into this world. This world has been dominated by a truly cruel leader, and you aren't going to breeze through his forces. You have to work to beat this, yet it's not at all brutal. The game's difficulty hits a sweet spot that I think so many devs have strived to hit themselves, but missed the mark. A truly commendable achievement of design that, unfortunately, we likely won't see these days. I suppose that makes going back to play this even more special, though!

My only major complaint about this first title is that the bosses are rather... shit. I don't even want to dedicate more time to them, besides King K. Rool they have absolutely nothing going for them. Donkey Kong Country is a relic of the past, not every little thing works, but it coalesces into an unforgettable experience, an adventure through a world I'll never cease to love.

Donkey Kong Country, para mí, es Navidad.

No pienso en esta frase como si fuera una parte única de su personalidad, pero eso es un hecho. No estamos hablando de un juego de plataformas desconocido, precisamente. Siempre me ha molestado la nostalgia.

Sin embargo, acompáñenme en esto, porque necesito explicar su significado y la relación simbiótica que tengo con sus mecánicas. Donkey Kong Country es el primer videojuego al que he jugado en mi vida. Y punto. No hay otro más.

Tuve el lujo de tener un tío sin trabajo que todos los días se iba a jugar al fútbol con los amigos, vivía a expensas de sus padres y se reventaba los ojos con imágenes tricolor de Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64 y PSX los fines de semana. Suelo recordar muchos lugares y símbolos de mi etapa infantil. No necesariamente recuerdos reales, sino espejismos confeccionados. La terrorífica pantalla de continuación de Mortal Kombat 4, el extraño ambiente alienígena de Jet Force Gemini, Némesis viniendo a por Jill. Ese espejismo explica mi amor por Klonoa, por cierto.

Pero cuando tenía 5 años este fue mi primer contacto. Recuerdo vívidamente estar atascado en los niveles del Gorilla Glaciers, frustrado pero imposiblemente enganchado, y nunca olvidaré lo aterrorizado que estaba por los Rockkrocs en la Stop & Go Station.

Cada vez que arranco Donkey Kong Country me invade la misma vista de descubrimiento. Todo parece construido involuntariamente para evocar un reflejo conmovedor, pero contradictorio en esa mirada. Es reconfortante ver estas iteraciones de lugares reales, codificadas por colores con hermosos atardeceres, cristales azules centelleantes, luces cálidas en la distancia. Pero también es incómodo, expresando la falta de un final físico de estos lugares. La isla tropical de Kong en medio del océano sin límites, las minas que crean una visible cacofonía de vigas de madera, el fondo marino imponentemente repetitivo, como la incompetente representación del mundo de Aquanaut's Holiday.

Es un título visualmente llamativo, pero... también inexplicablemente atascado, incluso para los estándares de la época, una cualidad bastante difícil de señalar. Hay un álbum ambiental de Fennesz, Endless Summer, que encierra esta sensación de oquedad superpuesta. ¿Tal vez sea un juego de verano? Por supuesto, choca con los gráficos de dibujos animados en 3D de las entidades, ya sea el reparto principal o los monstruos.

Pero también contiene una efervescente sensación de urgencia. Una sensación que no puedes captar cuando tienes 5 u 8 años. Es una cosa de viejos que se vuelve más potente a medida que maduras. La mejor lucha proviene de su jugabilidad, un reino mecánico que recibe al jugador con vibraciones relajantes que poco a poco van cayendo en picado -literalmente hablando-. En el momento en que superas la fusión de Jungle Hijinxs y las ondas de vaca feliz, te enfrentas a un Ropey Rampage furiosamente lluvioso y oscurecido. Es un cambio repentino y ligeramente opresivo que continuará durante el resto de DKC, y el empuje se traduce también en la jugabilidad. Se te pide que juegues de forma más agresiva a medida que avanzan los niveles, que seas más rápido, más hábil, más conectado al combo básico pero aerodinámico de Donkey y Diddy. Premia la memoria, pero no la mera memoria visual; quiere que seas uno con el mando, aplicando una memoria muscular y superando un techo de habilidad que antes he mencionado fue retomado por Sonic Adventure 2.

El acto de dominar las cancelaciones de salto, el rodar constantemente, el descubrir nuevos saltos (para saber dónde y cuándo saltar en los enemigos), son valores en los que destaca Donkey Kong Country. Pero choca con la atmósfera sombría y estilísticamente liminar del juego, y eso es precisamente lo que le da el sufijo Country. Es un juego de plataformas aparentemente extenso, en el que sus proezas visuales son los bloques de hormigón y sus contradicciones el cemento. Esa falsa construcción de profundidad hace que DKC, se sienta perdido cuando realmente no lo está. Los niveles son del punto A al punto B, amigo. No es tan complicado. Lo mismo con el apartado visual. Y lo sabemos, y aun así nos seduce el truco del mago.

Un truco que disfruto desde mi infancia; no, desde mis primeros años como ser humano consciente. Cuando era niño, comiendo una bolsa de Lay's o unas galletas Morocha, viendo la televisión cuadrada de mi abuelo (Descanse en Paz, sabio), conectaba con las melodías de la selva, con las porciones de miedo de sus misterios, con los momentos que te puedes encontrar, como para romper la pared a puñetazos. A los 7 años, mientras jugaba con mis dinosaurios de goma, mirando el gigantesco material promocional de Jurassic Park T-Rex que mi papá robó silenciosamente de una tienda del centro, siempre me preguntaba: "¿Estarían Donkey y Diddy descansando en la misma selva? ¿Pueden siquiera vencer a un T-Rex?". O sea, pueden vencer a castores y neckies gigantes, aunque no me sorprende: hay que admitir que son un punto de relajación casi, una pequeña tarea por la que pasar, mero trámite.

Excepto King K. Rool, obviamente. El último chequeo de habilidad después de una montaña rusa de chequeos de habilidad, como un Monte Fuji. Estableciendo inteligentemente el parque temático del segundo título. En la actualidad, examino el terror latente que emana la parte ecológica de DKC, Kremkroc Industries Inc., con aguas verdosas y purulentas, maquinaria que falla con la luz, y una cierta sensación de derrota de la naturaleza antes vigorosa. Una desesperanza plasmada ante ella, en los niveles de nieve del Gorilla Glacier. Cambia constantemente de la alegría a la tristeza, de la diversión desenfadada a un estado vacío. Sin embargo, aunque contiene algunos mapas estelares, el último mundo es bastante cansino. No es novedoso, pero sus artilugios hacen que se produzca uno de los mayores techos de dificultad de la franquicia. Es un lugar extrañamente inconexo en DKC.

DKC es a la vez encantador y adictivo, girando dentro de sus propios méritos y contradicciones. Es una maravillosa aventura de alegría y desafío, superada en espíritu de juego por su sucesor, pero para mí, nunca elevada en su universo. DKC1, para mí, es una bestia diferente al 2 desde el punto de vista temático. DKC2 se preocupa más y trata de retraerse de estar demasiado “similar”, es más extravagante, maravilloso, mítico y falso. DKC se siente concretado en una realidad palpable, lejana pero asimilada. No son lo mismo. Y siempre lo he sentido así, cada vez que lo juego, cerca de la Navidad. Es un ritual que empecé a hacer hace años, mucho antes de conocer las costumbres similares de Vinny de Vinesauce. Es un acto tan reconfortante. Lo jugué con mi madre, acompañado de mi padre, junto a algunos primos, mostrándolo a mis compañeros de clase y familia. Hoy en día, con un Colemono en la mano, los amigos que he hecho por el camino, y la habitación impregnada con olor a pan de pascua y el plástico de las decoraciones en el arbolito. Ya sea en el hardware original, emulado en un PC o a través de la Nintendo Switch. No importa. Siempre que llega el momento de dar amor y cariño -que debería ser todos los días, pero ese día estamos mejor vestidos, doy lo que más quiero a las personas que me importan. Y le doy mi cuota a Donkey Kong Country. Es como... un viejo amigo. El tiempo no es un problema entre nosotros. Cada vez que me visita tenemos exactamente la misma conversación.

Y me encanta esa repetición. No podría desearla de otra manera.

Creo que esto lo escribí el 2022

My first encounter with Donkey Kong Country was in Cub Scouts! I would've been a Webelos then. One of the other Scouts had just gotten a GameBoy Advance SP, and he started bringing it to our weekly Den Meetings to play while he was waiting to be picked up. My Pops was Den Leader, so I never had to wait super long after meetings - just long enough for Pops to wrap up and get ready to go. But there were a couple instances where we got there early, or Pops was held up talking to someone, and I had a couple minutes free to watch the other kid play. I actually remember very little of what he had to play, but I distinctly remember him playing the GBA port of Donkey Kong Country, which I was starting to see advertised in my magazine subscriptions (can't remember if it was in Boy's Life or National Geographic for Kids). He must've been a little bit in - I kinda remember seeing "Temple Tempest" as one of my first levels? - and I think he even let me play a little bit. Naturally I would've been terrible at it, but the game left an impression.

...but not enough of one for me to prioritize when I got my own GBA SP later that year. Nah, the first Donkey Kong game I owned (not counting the infinite access I had in the 90s to arcade games through MAME) was Donkey Kong 64. But I did pick up DKC on Wii Virtual Console, and I've played it through a couple times since.

Donkey Kong Country is a game frequently subject to retroactive scrutiny. At the time it was a huge megaton hit, and something that catapulted beloved domestic success story Rare into global superstardom. By way of example - the Donkey Kong Country trilogy are three of the top eleven best-selling games for the SNES, with DKC1 only beaten out by Super Mario World and Super Mario All-Stars. The next best-selling SNES title fully made by a non-Japanese developer is Mortal Kombat II, the 29th best-seller, at one sixth the amount of copies DKC shipped. Also, MK2 came out earlier.

If you asked people of the time, DKC was an amazing, cutting-edge showcase of everything you could do in a 16-bit platformer (I read a sprite comic once that had Mario miss an adventure because it was 1994 and he was distracted playing DKC the whole time; I assume this is accurate). A scant couple years later, people started looking back at the original Donkey Kong Country as a gimmick. Just a technical showcase without much actual mechanical depth. Shades of what 2D Sonic's gotten over the years, I think, if less polarizing.

Where do I fall? I don't think it's unreasonable to call Donkey Kong Country less impressive than its successors, particularly DKC2. But I also think it's crazy to insinuate that there isn't anything to DKC mechanically. Donkey Kong Country is a fast platformer, all about gaining and maintaining momentum. Rare perfects this in later titles, but it's not like they're not aware of it here, either - strings of Kritters or Gnawties are set up for DK or Diddy to roll through, bananas and bonus barrels are placed in local spots for charging players to land, etc. It says a lot that Rare went to model DK's movement after actual gorillas, only to change course and base his run after horses because that better suited the momentum of gameplay they wanted to capture.

It also helps that so much of the spectacle is in service of giving the game character. Rare had sooooo much fun giving the Kongs and the Kremlings personality in this. Like, Necky! Pretty generic enemy from a visual design standpoint, literally just a vulture. But they got the big shifty eyes, and they go EUH when you hit them, and there's that variant that hides behind its wing like a cape and flings coconuts, and it's randomly so excellent for such a disposable enemy? Rare was working with cutting-edge technology, and they chose to use it to bestow unto the world an ostrich wearing tennis shoes.

To say nothing of our major players! It's easy to take it for granted now, but this was quite the confident reinvention for Donkey Kong, from self-motivated lovable monster to a genuine (if kinda dopey) hero. Confidence encapsulates a lot of DKC's vision; there's also that well-known story about Diddy Kong starting out as a redesign of DK Jr, and after Nintendo passed on it as a redesign, Rare proceeded with it as a new character. Plus, Rare was willing to take the piss on themselves AND Nintendo by reimagining the original Donkey Kong as Cranky Kong, and in so doing made one of the funniest damn characters in all of gaming. Cranky Kong is bugged and only gives hints for Kongo Jungle levels instead of the full game, but I'd argue that adds to the joke: Cranky has SO little faith in his grandson that even in the last world, he refuses to believe DK can get past the first few levels on his own.

And then there's King K. Rool. Maybe one of gaming's greatest villains? He must certainly belong in the conversation! Yes, most of his development comes from the sequels and he's extremely inconsequential to the first game's overall experience. But Kredits is still one of the funniest dang tricks any character's tried to pull in a video game and does a ton to establish his brand of villainy. How'd he even do that???

So long as I'm examining minutia, I've also always liked that name. "Donkey Kong Country". Mario had a small Land on handheld and a big World on the TV, but Donkey Kong is somewhere in the middle. Alternatively, "Country" suggests environment first and foremost, rather than the political entities of "Land" and "World", which is perfectly in-line with what DKC is.

So, yes, Donkey Kong Country is a game whose existence I very much respect and like thinking about. As a game to play, however? It's good, but it doesn't really hold me like the rest of the series does. I tend to find later Donkey Kong Countries way more engaging, from how they experiment with design gimmicks to how they use their casts. The first game mostly focuses on establishing its baseline, so there end up being few proper gimmick levels; Stop & Go Station, Snow Barrel Blast, Blackout Basement, and Tanked-Up Trouble (heheh, booze reference, just got that) all feel like exceptions rather than the norm. And note how small those gimmicks feel, compared to DKC2/3 gimmicks? I think there's only like two or three levels in DKC1 with fully unique gimmicks, and while I think DKC3 goes overboard in the opposite direction, I'd much rather the game constantly reinvent itself than mostly iterate on a theme.

Is that weird? I love Super Mario World as a toolset kind of game, but I don't want Donkey Kong Country to be like that. Or maybe I just find more purpose to how Mario World iterates upon itself, rather than the first Donkey Long Country.

I also have what I think are a lot of the usual issues with DKC1. The animal buddies mostly exist as diversions, with how they interact with the levels feeling more arbitrary than not and their bonus rounds being solid but super distracting. Bonus rooms are samey and purposeless, and it'd definitely feel way better once they started having unique designs.
Candy Kong is just confusing and upsetting, but then, I've only ever liked Candy Kong in the TV show and Barrel Blast. Bosses besides K. Rool kinda suck, though I guess Dumb Drum is at least funny. The game really strings you out on Save Points in some worlds, and while I know that's just the intended difficulty and I need to gît güd, it still makes the Vine Valley and Gorilla Glacier subareas way harder than Kremkroc Industries or Chimp Caverns.
The game hadn't settled on its tradition of bonus worlds, so there's little motivation to seeing 100% completion through. And... so on.

Donkey Kong Country was an amazing game that must've come out of nowhere for the SNES generation. But I'm never wowed by the experience of DKC1 while I'm playing it, even though it actually was around for me at a young enough age to have been formative. For me, it's a good game! A good start to a legendary series. But, I'd rather revisit any other Donkey Kong Country.

NINTENDO-RARE FANS BE LIKE "CAN'T STAND WHEN MY DECADES-DORMANT SERIES GETS A NEW INSTALMENT IN A DIFFERENT GENRE THAT OPENS WITH META-JOKES AT THE ORIGINAL'S EXPENSE"

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST YOU ARE LITERALLY DESCRIBING Donkey Kong Country (1994)

Jokes aside, a great classic game with smooth gameplay, mostly tight levels, and graphics that have aged better than some film CGI from the time - that being said, the dud levels and buddies are in much higher quantity compared to #2.

This is a functional 2D platformer with no problems to its presentation. The controls are fluid, the soundtrack is fire, and the graphics are a bit dated, but it works to its charm, and I can tell they were revolutionary for the time.

I very much prefered to play as Diddy, as he was more fun to control than Donkey was. It's easy to be willing to give up power in favor for speed in this game. And props for making actual fun underwater levels. Better than the ones in Tropical Freeze, I must say.

However, I can't help but feel like something's missing to make this memorable. Despite the levels having gimmicks that are varied, they don't stand out too much to me. Even the so-called "bonus rooms" are very lackluster, which kinda killed my motivation to look for them. And the bosses are a complete joke.

For now, this is a good starting point for what the DKC series could be.

When Diddy Kong defeats a boss, he simply celebrates, but when Donkey does the same, he turns to the camera and gives a thumbs-up to the player. That Donkey himself could have slain that bird or beaver or giant oil drum is beyond question: what he's proud of is the fact that you've done it. This is his Country, the way he's chosen to live. Donkey himself dug those tunnels, laid those minetracks. He travels on them daily. The player's role is not to guide him, but to be guided, to be ushered through pain and rare triumph into engaging with the world as Donkey Kong does.

The massive sprites are not simply an effort to show off the rendering technology Rare had available to them, although the results of this still look quite good on an appropriate TV. They serve to blinker the player, to make threats invisible until they're almost too close to avoid. This is how Donkey Kong experiences the world. He has no need of foresight: he simply responds. Many video games are simply ignorant, but Donkey Kong Country is unique in its articulation of a truly ideological anti-intellectualism.

There's something somber about the last moment of the game in this context. Donkey Kong claps and gives the player a final thumbs-up, before Diddy interrupts him with an act of slapstick violence which he quickly reciprocates. The sublime moment, the connection across the screen, is shattered, and Donkey returns to his role as cartoon ape as surely as you resume your role as man.

Aside from this, it's a complete slog. British people cannot design videogames.