The point I'm at now, I think Streets of Rage 4 is pretty much the only good scrolling beat 'em up ever made. Well, Shredder's Revenge is pretty decent too.
SoR4 was a constant knife's edge balance of combos and extra lives. You were always watching your score, and furiously running into the next opportunity to hit another baddie and boost your reserves. It made paying attention and playing well actually matter. In a beat 'em up! What a thought! I didn't think anyone would ever want to make another one that didn't rob from it wholesale. It'd be like doing a platformer with static screens after Super Mario Bros. What an embarrassment.
Well, Turtles doesn't quite do that. What surprised me is that's okay. This isn't supposed to be as brutal or gripping. It's a hangout game. A fun, lighthearted brawler. There's space for different kinds of beat 'em ups.
It's colour, energy and fun. You've got a ton of different moves and combos flow and open up in exciting ways. The presentation strikes me as a surprising mix of Saturn and GBA. Times when the staff were really excited not to be held back by the limitations of 16-bit, but had grown incredible skill working in 2D. The soundtrack sounds like it's from folk who are thrilled to have access to CD-quality audio. There's few games that look and sound as instantly fun as this. Just what you want from a six-player brawler.
Then there's the drawbacks. Combos are fun. Really great to dive in with a lunge and juggle a limp Foot Soldier for a while. The incentive behind this is to unlock character-specific moves and upgrades. I think that's a pretty weak system. Your favourites quickly get boosted through natural gameplay, while Donatello sits there without being able to do aerial specials. I think unlockable moves are a pretty shite concept outside of a tight one-and-done campaign. Here, you're handicapped if you want to switch characters throughout the game, and incentivised just to stick to your lane.
Not that you're really going to be too fussed about switching characters, because they more or less play about the same. There's no hulking bodybuilder, rollerskate kid or baby in a mech suit. The party dude, plucky reporter and old man rat all come the with the same core abilities and feel, just with some minor stat tweaks.
I get it though. Have you ever tried to set up a local multiplayer game of something with more than four people? One fussy prick spoils the broth for everyone. Arguments over controllers, characters, player number... it's not an environment you want to put a Gilius Thunderhead into. Equality of opportunity is the foundational tenet of such a chaotic social scenario. Just make everyone more or less the same, and nobody's too fussed about who they're playing as. But if you're playing on someone's single-player save, the characters aren't equal... I don't know. Why is it like this?
Look - ideal situation - 6 players, new save, all playing it for the first time, all excited, all in it for the long haul - I'm sure this works. I just don't think it's likely to be anyone's experience of this. More power to you if it's yours'.
Obviously, you're going to have a better time with this if you're a big Turtles fan. I have vague memories of being one as a little kid, but the emergence of Sonic the Hedgehog wiped my developing brain clean of pretty much anything that happened in the cartoon. I couldn't recognise any of the characters outside of the main cast and the action figures I had. I actually learned that one of my toys was a "Punk Frog" while playing this, though I couldn't tell you which one he was. The only real nostalgia I got out of the package was for Konami's cartoon licences, with the energetic soundtrack and colourful visuals conjuring childhood memories of Buster's Hidden Treasure and Mega Drive Animaniacs. I'm only kind of aware of some of the references to old TMNT media in here. I still like the game though. I don't think you have to be a fan for it.
It's a lighthearted cartoon brawler, and it's easy to appreciate the care and passion that's gone into it. It's not Streets of Rage 4, but I guess if I want that, I'll just have to play Streets of Rage 4.
SoR4 was a constant knife's edge balance of combos and extra lives. You were always watching your score, and furiously running into the next opportunity to hit another baddie and boost your reserves. It made paying attention and playing well actually matter. In a beat 'em up! What a thought! I didn't think anyone would ever want to make another one that didn't rob from it wholesale. It'd be like doing a platformer with static screens after Super Mario Bros. What an embarrassment.
Well, Turtles doesn't quite do that. What surprised me is that's okay. This isn't supposed to be as brutal or gripping. It's a hangout game. A fun, lighthearted brawler. There's space for different kinds of beat 'em ups.
It's colour, energy and fun. You've got a ton of different moves and combos flow and open up in exciting ways. The presentation strikes me as a surprising mix of Saturn and GBA. Times when the staff were really excited not to be held back by the limitations of 16-bit, but had grown incredible skill working in 2D. The soundtrack sounds like it's from folk who are thrilled to have access to CD-quality audio. There's few games that look and sound as instantly fun as this. Just what you want from a six-player brawler.
Then there's the drawbacks. Combos are fun. Really great to dive in with a lunge and juggle a limp Foot Soldier for a while. The incentive behind this is to unlock character-specific moves and upgrades. I think that's a pretty weak system. Your favourites quickly get boosted through natural gameplay, while Donatello sits there without being able to do aerial specials. I think unlockable moves are a pretty shite concept outside of a tight one-and-done campaign. Here, you're handicapped if you want to switch characters throughout the game, and incentivised just to stick to your lane.
Not that you're really going to be too fussed about switching characters, because they more or less play about the same. There's no hulking bodybuilder, rollerskate kid or baby in a mech suit. The party dude, plucky reporter and old man rat all come the with the same core abilities and feel, just with some minor stat tweaks.
I get it though. Have you ever tried to set up a local multiplayer game of something with more than four people? One fussy prick spoils the broth for everyone. Arguments over controllers, characters, player number... it's not an environment you want to put a Gilius Thunderhead into. Equality of opportunity is the foundational tenet of such a chaotic social scenario. Just make everyone more or less the same, and nobody's too fussed about who they're playing as. But if you're playing on someone's single-player save, the characters aren't equal... I don't know. Why is it like this?
Look - ideal situation - 6 players, new save, all playing it for the first time, all excited, all in it for the long haul - I'm sure this works. I just don't think it's likely to be anyone's experience of this. More power to you if it's yours'.
Obviously, you're going to have a better time with this if you're a big Turtles fan. I have vague memories of being one as a little kid, but the emergence of Sonic the Hedgehog wiped my developing brain clean of pretty much anything that happened in the cartoon. I couldn't recognise any of the characters outside of the main cast and the action figures I had. I actually learned that one of my toys was a "Punk Frog" while playing this, though I couldn't tell you which one he was. The only real nostalgia I got out of the package was for Konami's cartoon licences, with the energetic soundtrack and colourful visuals conjuring childhood memories of Buster's Hidden Treasure and Mega Drive Animaniacs. I'm only kind of aware of some of the references to old TMNT media in here. I still like the game though. I don't think you have to be a fan for it.
It's a lighthearted cartoon brawler, and it's easy to appreciate the care and passion that's gone into it. It's not Streets of Rage 4, but I guess if I want that, I'll just have to play Streets of Rage 4.
I can't really give the twenty year-olds too much shit for salivating over spot-the-difference remakes of games that came out on PS3. This was my one. A US-only, Xbox-only expanded remake of Tony Hawk's 2 with all the THPS1 levels and five new exclusive levels too. There couldn't have been a more tantalising carrot to dangle in front of my 13 year-old face. planettonyhawk.gamespy.com became a daily visit, and I'd constantly revisit my folder of THPS2X screenshots once my hour of 56k internet access was up.
It's only after experiencing the clean Dreamcast version, PC version with all the THPS1 levels patched in, 2012 remake, THUGPRO and 2020 remake, that emulation had caught up to the point where I could finally realise the dream.
It's Tony Hawk's 2. Cleaner than the old PlayStation version, sure. I couldn't say for certain that it looks any better than the Dreamcast or PC versions without doing a direct side-by-side comparison. I remember marveling at the lighting in promotional screenshots back in the day, so maybe there's something there, but it's just as likely that they were nonsense.
The original levels are abysmal, by the way. They'd be subpar for Evolution Skateboarding. THPS5's levels soar above this scattered, linear dogshit. The one skatepark level is okay, but really just an early iteration of THUG's Tampa skatepark with less flow to it. Don't play this for the new levels.
Otherwise, you've got a fine way to play THPS1&2, with all the old THPS2 stuff. Folk coming off the new remake will be alarmed at how juddery and limited the original games are. Technical combos rarely gain points as quickly as just doing big jumps and spinning, and there's the infamous "BIG DROP" thing that makes you wipe out if you drop from too tall a height. It doesn't emulate nearly as well as the PlayStation or Dreamcast games either, so it's unlikely to become the most practical option.
THPS2 is a beloved game though, and this is the most "deluxe" version of the original. It's just as it used to be, with the full soundtrack (not THPS1's though), extras and unlockable Spider-Man. There's a satisfaction in mastering the quirks of the old physics and a comfort in the atmosphere that subsequent remakes haven't quite captured. This is the old THPS2 you used to play with RF cables on your mate's bedroom television. I just thought that fans ought to know they really don't have to seek this one out. Just play the version you have.
It's only after experiencing the clean Dreamcast version, PC version with all the THPS1 levels patched in, 2012 remake, THUGPRO and 2020 remake, that emulation had caught up to the point where I could finally realise the dream.
It's Tony Hawk's 2. Cleaner than the old PlayStation version, sure. I couldn't say for certain that it looks any better than the Dreamcast or PC versions without doing a direct side-by-side comparison. I remember marveling at the lighting in promotional screenshots back in the day, so maybe there's something there, but it's just as likely that they were nonsense.
The original levels are abysmal, by the way. They'd be subpar for Evolution Skateboarding. THPS5's levels soar above this scattered, linear dogshit. The one skatepark level is okay, but really just an early iteration of THUG's Tampa skatepark with less flow to it. Don't play this for the new levels.
Otherwise, you've got a fine way to play THPS1&2, with all the old THPS2 stuff. Folk coming off the new remake will be alarmed at how juddery and limited the original games are. Technical combos rarely gain points as quickly as just doing big jumps and spinning, and there's the infamous "BIG DROP" thing that makes you wipe out if you drop from too tall a height. It doesn't emulate nearly as well as the PlayStation or Dreamcast games either, so it's unlikely to become the most practical option.
THPS2 is a beloved game though, and this is the most "deluxe" version of the original. It's just as it used to be, with the full soundtrack (not THPS1's though), extras and unlockable Spider-Man. There's a satisfaction in mastering the quirks of the old physics and a comfort in the atmosphere that subsequent remakes haven't quite captured. This is the old THPS2 you used to play with RF cables on your mate's bedroom television. I just thought that fans ought to know they really don't have to seek this one out. Just play the version you have.
2019
A REVIEW OF SUPER Mikey_Mike WORLD (Code: OG9-XN4-FNF)
This has been promoted by its creator (and some unscrupulous news outlets) as "Super Mario Bros. 5". While I find that title hyperbolic, if not blasphemous, I do think it might serve as a better central campaign than the one included in Mario Maker 2.
I think the excitement around Mario Maker 2 petered off far too soon. The format might not work as naturally on the Switch as it did on the Wii U, but it remains a much more powerful tool for Making Mario, if you're willing to put up with a less fun and intuitive interface.
What's been made here is a full 8-world campaign for the game, never going beyond the Super Mario World style. Each level trying something unique, fun and interesting without veering too far into "fanhack" territory. It's easy to forget just how much has been added to the level creation tools past the game's initial launch, but Super Mikey_Mike World puts all the most Marioey stuff to great use. I was cheering as I saw the Super Mario Bros. 2 transformation appear, since I'd pretty much completely forgotten it was ever in here.
It mainly retains the pace and increasing complexity of a familiar Mario release, with simple levels to start with, without becoming too dull, slowly transitioning to intricate puzzles, platforming challenges and some of the best Ghost Houses I've seen in ages. Great care has been taken to make sure players are never trapped into situations they can't get out of, and there's often fun and creative solutions to any predicament you find yourself in.
Really, it's a great celebration of the visual language of Mario. It's great to see a new location with complex geometry and instinctively know how you can use Mario to get through it. Mario hits a little different on your first time through a new game, and Super Mikey_Mike World delivers that feeling.
It's not without flaws, though. I did take issue with how frequently it sends you into a one-screen room for a very simple task, and it just feels like an unnecessary extra step crammed in because the designer thought they were being cute. That stuff gets old pretty quick. The final Ghost House was especially frustrating, as it relies on unpredictable mechanics at the end of a relatively lengthy sequence of puzzles that I found myself having to replay several times before everything worked right.
I think Super Mikey_Mike World's biggest success is in how it reinvigorates excitement for Super Mario Maker 2. It's a big set of clever ideas that showcase what can be done with these tools, besides making auto-runner levels and ones that play a song from Pokémon Red. There's stuff that presents the flexibility and fun of all the familiar SMB3 and SMW stuff, but there's stuff that's entirely unique to Mario Maker 2 as well, like snowballs and upside-down levels. It's great to see that stuff put to work in something that feels like a full Mario game.
I thought it was a little optimistic of Nintendo to add tools to make full 8-world campaigns, but seeing it put to proper use, I'm quite thankful that they did. I hope it inspires other Makers to get cleverer with how they use this great game.
This has been promoted by its creator (and some unscrupulous news outlets) as "Super Mario Bros. 5". While I find that title hyperbolic, if not blasphemous, I do think it might serve as a better central campaign than the one included in Mario Maker 2.
I think the excitement around Mario Maker 2 petered off far too soon. The format might not work as naturally on the Switch as it did on the Wii U, but it remains a much more powerful tool for Making Mario, if you're willing to put up with a less fun and intuitive interface.
What's been made here is a full 8-world campaign for the game, never going beyond the Super Mario World style. Each level trying something unique, fun and interesting without veering too far into "fanhack" territory. It's easy to forget just how much has been added to the level creation tools past the game's initial launch, but Super Mikey_Mike World puts all the most Marioey stuff to great use. I was cheering as I saw the Super Mario Bros. 2 transformation appear, since I'd pretty much completely forgotten it was ever in here.
It mainly retains the pace and increasing complexity of a familiar Mario release, with simple levels to start with, without becoming too dull, slowly transitioning to intricate puzzles, platforming challenges and some of the best Ghost Houses I've seen in ages. Great care has been taken to make sure players are never trapped into situations they can't get out of, and there's often fun and creative solutions to any predicament you find yourself in.
Really, it's a great celebration of the visual language of Mario. It's great to see a new location with complex geometry and instinctively know how you can use Mario to get through it. Mario hits a little different on your first time through a new game, and Super Mikey_Mike World delivers that feeling.
It's not without flaws, though. I did take issue with how frequently it sends you into a one-screen room for a very simple task, and it just feels like an unnecessary extra step crammed in because the designer thought they were being cute. That stuff gets old pretty quick. The final Ghost House was especially frustrating, as it relies on unpredictable mechanics at the end of a relatively lengthy sequence of puzzles that I found myself having to replay several times before everything worked right.
I think Super Mikey_Mike World's biggest success is in how it reinvigorates excitement for Super Mario Maker 2. It's a big set of clever ideas that showcase what can be done with these tools, besides making auto-runner levels and ones that play a song from Pokémon Red. There's stuff that presents the flexibility and fun of all the familiar SMB3 and SMW stuff, but there's stuff that's entirely unique to Mario Maker 2 as well, like snowballs and upside-down levels. It's great to see that stuff put to work in something that feels like a full Mario game.
I thought it was a little optimistic of Nintendo to add tools to make full 8-world campaigns, but seeing it put to proper use, I'm quite thankful that they did. I hope it inspires other Makers to get cleverer with how they use this great game.
2000
I'm a real patsy for games headed by quirky artists with no background in games development. They're frequently very shallow, and lack the engagement of those built off the back of rapidly-promoted programmers and project planners. My continued support of Keita Takahashi is evident of this.
Yosuke Kihara is less of a familiar name, but he's just the same as your Rodney Greenblats and 326s. Some wee guy sewing toy reproductions of famous album artwork and constructing ukelele dogs. He's also the lead figure behind cult PS2/Gamecube frog/golf title Ribbit King, and the preceding Japan-only PS1 game, "Kero Kero King".
Ribbit King is a very likeable and daft wee game. You take turns launching frogs off seesaws until you manage to land them in a hole on the other end of the course, for a "FROG IN". This is the sport named "Frolf", popular on the planet Hippitron. It's a much less predictable sport than Earth's "Golf". Your frog can land in flowing rivers, on bouncy spiderwebs, get bitten by snakes, or land in any number of other strange hazards. Simply said, it's not a game you play with skill and intent, but a sense of humour. It's a total crapshoot, and inherently much, much better enjoyed as a two-player than attempting to make your way through the campaign.
This applies far more so to Kero Kero King. It's a rougher, more naively designed game. Holes are often placed atop mountainous peaks surrounded by hazards, and the small degree of control you have over the game is much less reliable, with a jerky response on your swing meter. If you get anything less than a perfect shot, your frog will practically strafe in the air to avoid your target. Kero Kero King is very keen on penalising you, often in drawn-out, aggravating ways that send you right back to the start of the course. You will sweat blood and break furniture. This ain't your granny's Ribbit King.
I don't want to write off the game completely, though. It is incredibly cute. Dialling back on the polycount that Ribbit King players have grown familiar with is a start, but there's less of a space between the artist and the game overall. Characters are flat sprites, with geometry reminiscent of 90s graphics software (i.e. I think they were drawn in Microsoft Paint). There's a kind of awkward, unintuitive charm to the menus and overall presentation. The loading screen is a little cartoon frog hopping along. I really, really like it.
But then, there's actually trying to make progress in the game. Being torn apart by bullshit, like Sarah Connor holding onto the fence. I think of myself as a fairly patient person, but Kero Kero King has absolutely broken me. I can't take the humiliation of seeing my frog smack against a wall and swim back to the start of the course, over and over again. This can't be how I wilfully spend my free time. I can't ever let myself choose this over RK. (also, I've just realised the acronym for this is KKK, and that's pretty fucked up)
Never let me play this again. If you have to start a full scale intervention, I will thank you for it.
However, if you want to go for a two-player on this, we'll probably have a very funny night.
Yosuke Kihara is less of a familiar name, but he's just the same as your Rodney Greenblats and 326s. Some wee guy sewing toy reproductions of famous album artwork and constructing ukelele dogs. He's also the lead figure behind cult PS2/Gamecube frog/golf title Ribbit King, and the preceding Japan-only PS1 game, "Kero Kero King".
Ribbit King is a very likeable and daft wee game. You take turns launching frogs off seesaws until you manage to land them in a hole on the other end of the course, for a "FROG IN". This is the sport named "Frolf", popular on the planet Hippitron. It's a much less predictable sport than Earth's "Golf". Your frog can land in flowing rivers, on bouncy spiderwebs, get bitten by snakes, or land in any number of other strange hazards. Simply said, it's not a game you play with skill and intent, but a sense of humour. It's a total crapshoot, and inherently much, much better enjoyed as a two-player than attempting to make your way through the campaign.
This applies far more so to Kero Kero King. It's a rougher, more naively designed game. Holes are often placed atop mountainous peaks surrounded by hazards, and the small degree of control you have over the game is much less reliable, with a jerky response on your swing meter. If you get anything less than a perfect shot, your frog will practically strafe in the air to avoid your target. Kero Kero King is very keen on penalising you, often in drawn-out, aggravating ways that send you right back to the start of the course. You will sweat blood and break furniture. This ain't your granny's Ribbit King.
I don't want to write off the game completely, though. It is incredibly cute. Dialling back on the polycount that Ribbit King players have grown familiar with is a start, but there's less of a space between the artist and the game overall. Characters are flat sprites, with geometry reminiscent of 90s graphics software (i.e. I think they were drawn in Microsoft Paint). There's a kind of awkward, unintuitive charm to the menus and overall presentation. The loading screen is a little cartoon frog hopping along. I really, really like it.
But then, there's actually trying to make progress in the game. Being torn apart by bullshit, like Sarah Connor holding onto the fence. I think of myself as a fairly patient person, but Kero Kero King has absolutely broken me. I can't take the humiliation of seeing my frog smack against a wall and swim back to the start of the course, over and over again. This can't be how I wilfully spend my free time. I can't ever let myself choose this over RK. (also, I've just realised the acronym for this is KKK, and that's pretty fucked up)
Never let me play this again. If you have to start a full scale intervention, I will thank you for it.
However, if you want to go for a two-player on this, we'll probably have a very funny night.
2022
Result - 148/157
I was frequently able to correctly guess specific games that I don't think I've seen so much as a screenshot from, as the algorithm would often shoot the correct answer to the top of the list. The first suggestion after typing "Super" was "Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars". I quickly lent into typing "Far Cry" whenever it showed me a nondescript CGI landscape.
I was able to quickly identify many indie games with simplistic NES-style graphics that I've seen some berate for looking identical to a hundred other pixelart indie games, so that was gratifying. My consoleguy status is further solidified, though I did use a PC to play this.
GAPS IN MY KNOWLEDGE:
Diablo
GRIS
Divinity: Original Sin II
Hunt: Showdown
Risk of Rain 2
The Talos Principle (I knew this was the one with a cat on the cover, but couldn't remember the name)
Dead by Daylight
Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Rust
I was frequently able to correctly guess specific games that I don't think I've seen so much as a screenshot from, as the algorithm would often shoot the correct answer to the top of the list. The first suggestion after typing "Super" was "Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars". I quickly lent into typing "Far Cry" whenever it showed me a nondescript CGI landscape.
I was able to quickly identify many indie games with simplistic NES-style graphics that I've seen some berate for looking identical to a hundred other pixelart indie games, so that was gratifying. My consoleguy status is further solidified, though I did use a PC to play this.
GAPS IN MY KNOWLEDGE:
Diablo
GRIS
Divinity: Original Sin II
Hunt: Showdown
Risk of Rain 2
The Talos Principle (I knew this was the one with a cat on the cover, but couldn't remember the name)
Dead by Daylight
Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Rust
2001
Hey! This is a pretty cool little game!
Police 24/7 reviewed quite lukewarmly in UK PS2 magazines, back in the day, often judging it based on playing with a Dualshock. Konami clearly had no idea what to do with the home version. Thanks to their stubbornness, it doesn't support Namco's G-Con standard, and without compatibility with Sony-licensed lightguns, there is no mention that this is lightgun compatible anywhere on the packaging. It's fully compatible with Konami's Justifier/Hyper Blaster standard though, and I played through the game quite happily on a Logic3 gun that's so old it has Saturn support.
For those unfamiliar, Police 24/7, or Police 911 (a name they sensitively abandoned for the game's 2002 release in Europe) is a bodytracking lightgun game. You physically duck and weave to reload and avoid incoming fire. I don't currently own a compatible USB camera (the list of supported models is pretty short), but still found this to be a pretty cool little shooter regardless.
It's a grittier game than its contemporaries, while retaining an arcadey charm. There's no bodybuilders who throw girders at you. Just average-looking people. Everyone goes down in one shot, including the bosses. Get a quick headshot, and they're ready to be handcuffed and thrown in the slammer. Take a hit and one member of your squad is dead, leaving you to take over as one of their colleagues. It's blunt and punchy. Quite unique for the genre.
Without the bodytracking the game plays a lot more like Time Crisis, with a button press ducking you into cover. There's still a hint of the bodytracking's appeal, though. You can still fire while in cover, and you sometimes get a better view of your target from under a vehicle or behind a pillar. It feels pretty cool to strategise on the fly about the quickest approach, rather than just attempting to fire at everything that pops up in front of you as quickly as possible. Taking out enemies quickly and efficiently will reward you with promotions, leading to higher scores and extra lives. Good runs feel really satisfying, while careless slip-ups are harshly punished.
Having played a lot of fantastical lightgun games, it's quite refreshing to see a location as shitty as Los Angeles in one of these. All the baddies are Japanese criminals, which I found to be an amusingly cute choice on the developers' behalf. If they were to paint immigrants of another nationality as cop killers, it would likely be seen as politically insensitive, but having the streets of LA taken over by murderous and destructive yakuza is a-okay from Konami.
There's a good deal of shared DNA between this and Konami's other lightgun shooters, like Lethal Enforcers and Silent Scope. "Innocent Victims" and distant baddies running around as tiny on-screen targets. It's a very different flavour from Namco or Sega, and one I can appreciate.
Police 24/7 is a really short game, even by lightgun shooter standards. My first runthrough was about ten minutes. A hard sell as a full retail price PS2 title, but it works as a little second-hand curio. These games can outstay their welcome pretty quickly, and even kings of the genre like Time Crisis and House of the Dead fill their later stages with tedious bulletsponges. Police 24/7 seems quick, punchy and modest in comparison. Just a snappy wee shooter to stick on every now and then.
I intend to reevaluate this once I acquire a suitable USB camera. I'm really impressed that I've enjoyed the game this much without even getting the full experience.
Police 24/7 reviewed quite lukewarmly in UK PS2 magazines, back in the day, often judging it based on playing with a Dualshock. Konami clearly had no idea what to do with the home version. Thanks to their stubbornness, it doesn't support Namco's G-Con standard, and without compatibility with Sony-licensed lightguns, there is no mention that this is lightgun compatible anywhere on the packaging. It's fully compatible with Konami's Justifier/Hyper Blaster standard though, and I played through the game quite happily on a Logic3 gun that's so old it has Saturn support.
For those unfamiliar, Police 24/7, or Police 911 (a name they sensitively abandoned for the game's 2002 release in Europe) is a bodytracking lightgun game. You physically duck and weave to reload and avoid incoming fire. I don't currently own a compatible USB camera (the list of supported models is pretty short), but still found this to be a pretty cool little shooter regardless.
It's a grittier game than its contemporaries, while retaining an arcadey charm. There's no bodybuilders who throw girders at you. Just average-looking people. Everyone goes down in one shot, including the bosses. Get a quick headshot, and they're ready to be handcuffed and thrown in the slammer. Take a hit and one member of your squad is dead, leaving you to take over as one of their colleagues. It's blunt and punchy. Quite unique for the genre.
Without the bodytracking the game plays a lot more like Time Crisis, with a button press ducking you into cover. There's still a hint of the bodytracking's appeal, though. You can still fire while in cover, and you sometimes get a better view of your target from under a vehicle or behind a pillar. It feels pretty cool to strategise on the fly about the quickest approach, rather than just attempting to fire at everything that pops up in front of you as quickly as possible. Taking out enemies quickly and efficiently will reward you with promotions, leading to higher scores and extra lives. Good runs feel really satisfying, while careless slip-ups are harshly punished.
Having played a lot of fantastical lightgun games, it's quite refreshing to see a location as shitty as Los Angeles in one of these. All the baddies are Japanese criminals, which I found to be an amusingly cute choice on the developers' behalf. If they were to paint immigrants of another nationality as cop killers, it would likely be seen as politically insensitive, but having the streets of LA taken over by murderous and destructive yakuza is a-okay from Konami.
There's a good deal of shared DNA between this and Konami's other lightgun shooters, like Lethal Enforcers and Silent Scope. "Innocent Victims" and distant baddies running around as tiny on-screen targets. It's a very different flavour from Namco or Sega, and one I can appreciate.
Police 24/7 is a really short game, even by lightgun shooter standards. My first runthrough was about ten minutes. A hard sell as a full retail price PS2 title, but it works as a little second-hand curio. These games can outstay their welcome pretty quickly, and even kings of the genre like Time Crisis and House of the Dead fill their later stages with tedious bulletsponges. Police 24/7 seems quick, punchy and modest in comparison. Just a snappy wee shooter to stick on every now and then.
I intend to reevaluate this once I acquire a suitable USB camera. I'm really impressed that I've enjoyed the game this much without even getting the full experience.
2001
I'm approaching this as someone who started with New Leaf, and instantly became a relentlessly devoted player. I've heard a lot of resentment over the years from OG fans that the new games are too saccharine and pleasant. After finally trying the original game, it's a perspective I can see and respect, but I dunno, man - I like Nice Animal Crossing.
Going back, you can really see Dobutsu no Mori's weird, warty 64DD roots. The N64 may have been shaped by the west, with games like Turok and Banjo-Kazooie, but the 64DD was a playground for Nintendo's internal late 90s weirdos. Projects like Doshin the Giant and the Game Boy Camera. The place that gave birth to Tingle. Kids today, who wanted to play the cute animal game because they saw a popstar play it on a YouTube Live stream, have no idea about its aggressively scribbled heart.
The original Animal Crossing is an uncaring game at its warmest, and otherwise quite hostile. Villagers are often prejudiced, selfish and lazy. All the patter about Tom Nook's callousness? It's actually warranted here. There are kind, sweet villagers too, but they're the town doofus that everybody dunks on.
I think what's crucial is there isn't really much incentive to do anything in this game. You can contribute to the museum, decorate your house, customise your character, but there really isn't much inherent appeal to it. Every object in the game looks like it was pulled out of the reductions basket in Woolworths, and I didn't really care to be the one good Samaritan on Asshole Island.
There's always extra steps to everything to make it just that little bit more of an irritation. Want to swap out the item you're holding? Go to your inventory screen, drag the held item back into an empty spot in your inventory, drag the desired item into your hand, and resume. Don't have an empty space to put the item while you transfer? You're shit outta luck, buddy. Hope those fish like umbrellas.
I realise that there's more to GameCube AC - Folk won't shut up about the unlockable NES games - but it's just so blasé to your presence. There will be days when you just can't do anything because the shop's shut, and you don't have the item you need. Sure, there's time travel, but if you're not going to play the game by its rules, toss off and make your own.
I don't think this game really has the same appeal as modern Animal Crossing. It's more comparable to Tomodachi Life. A weird little toy to poke around and see if something amusing happens. This isn't a "Life Simulator". What you have in Animal Crossing 1 isn't a 'life'. It's a crude doodle of yourself with stinklines coming out.
Again, I kind of like this stuff. It's funny. But after a week of these sociopaths and villains, I was ready to run back into the appreciative arms of New Horizons. I'm somebody who's so into the vibe of the modern games, they enjoyed one-player amiibo Festival. I have been repeatedly assured that my opinion on Animal Crossing is unrelatable and irrelevant. Maybe I just ain't real enough for this shit. Give me a present and tell me I'm fabulous.
Going back, you can really see Dobutsu no Mori's weird, warty 64DD roots. The N64 may have been shaped by the west, with games like Turok and Banjo-Kazooie, but the 64DD was a playground for Nintendo's internal late 90s weirdos. Projects like Doshin the Giant and the Game Boy Camera. The place that gave birth to Tingle. Kids today, who wanted to play the cute animal game because they saw a popstar play it on a YouTube Live stream, have no idea about its aggressively scribbled heart.
The original Animal Crossing is an uncaring game at its warmest, and otherwise quite hostile. Villagers are often prejudiced, selfish and lazy. All the patter about Tom Nook's callousness? It's actually warranted here. There are kind, sweet villagers too, but they're the town doofus that everybody dunks on.
I think what's crucial is there isn't really much incentive to do anything in this game. You can contribute to the museum, decorate your house, customise your character, but there really isn't much inherent appeal to it. Every object in the game looks like it was pulled out of the reductions basket in Woolworths, and I didn't really care to be the one good Samaritan on Asshole Island.
There's always extra steps to everything to make it just that little bit more of an irritation. Want to swap out the item you're holding? Go to your inventory screen, drag the held item back into an empty spot in your inventory, drag the desired item into your hand, and resume. Don't have an empty space to put the item while you transfer? You're shit outta luck, buddy. Hope those fish like umbrellas.
I realise that there's more to GameCube AC - Folk won't shut up about the unlockable NES games - but it's just so blasé to your presence. There will be days when you just can't do anything because the shop's shut, and you don't have the item you need. Sure, there's time travel, but if you're not going to play the game by its rules, toss off and make your own.
I don't think this game really has the same appeal as modern Animal Crossing. It's more comparable to Tomodachi Life. A weird little toy to poke around and see if something amusing happens. This isn't a "Life Simulator". What you have in Animal Crossing 1 isn't a 'life'. It's a crude doodle of yourself with stinklines coming out.
Again, I kind of like this stuff. It's funny. But after a week of these sociopaths and villains, I was ready to run back into the appreciative arms of New Horizons. I'm somebody who's so into the vibe of the modern games, they enjoyed one-player amiibo Festival. I have been repeatedly assured that my opinion on Animal Crossing is unrelatable and irrelevant. Maybe I just ain't real enough for this shit. Give me a present and tell me I'm fabulous.
2007
If you know me, you'll likely be aware that I had the good fortune to come across a nice Toshiba CRT TV lying on the street, early this summer. I've understandably been tearing through a bunch of lightgun games since then, but a side-effect of this is that I've become a much bigger advocate of the Wii's lightgun-style arcade shooters.
I don't think you're missing out on too much if you have to play them this way, and even if you've got all the gear to do proper lightgun games, these are a more comfortable and casual alternative. There's no fiddling with cables, or calibration, you don't need any special controllers, and you don't even have to sit upright or put that much effort into your aim. And hey, they're wireless! You take that for granted these days, but after messing around with G-Cons and Justifiers, it's refreshingly liberating. There's going to be those who scoff at the thought of playing a lightgun shooter with an on-screen reticle, but to me, that's just snobbery. Lightgun games are great, and this is a nice way to play them.
So what's Ghost Squad like?
ACCEPTABLE!
It's unlikely to leave much of a lasting impression, but it's a fine wee shooter. It attempts to straddle the divide between arcade game and console title with multiple routes and an unlock system. During each mission, you'll come to crossroads where you're given the choice of which path to take. Different routes change the scenario a little, sometimes asking you to rescue hostages, defuse bombs or use different weapons for short segments. About half your time in any given mission will be spent doing something other than the standard shooting. Sometimes it's kind of a cool change of pace, sometimes it feels like a lame minigame.
Having played a lot of these games now, I've realised something - I don't really care for rapid fire. Machine guns kind of dampen the experience. There's a satisfaction and reliability to pistol-based lightgun shooters. Aim well, pull the trigger, and they're down. Machine guns are kind of airy fairy. Kind of vague. Mushy. I'm not into it.
That's kind of the problem with Ghost Squad in general. It's mushy. Picking different lanes feels arbitrary. There's no sense of excitement or tension to it. Multiple routes can work really well in a lightgun shooter, but I think it's only really exciting when it's tied to how well you're playing. The House of the Dead 2 or Time Crisis's "Original Mode" provide alternate routes as an incentive to play as well as you can, and reward returning players who've become more proficient. In Ghost Squad, it's just an option of which minigame you fancy playing this time. It's boring.
That said, Ghost Squad is fine. Inoffensive. It's a fair representation of the genre, has a pleasantly corny aesthetic, and most crucially, it's really cheap. CeX are currently selling it for two quid. If you're looking for a way to play a lightgun game, but you're not that convinced you'd be into them, this is about as accessible as you can get these days.
I'd really encourage you to spend a bit more and get The House of the Dead 2 & 3 Return instead, which is about a million times better. But this is fine. Yeah. I'm not going to tell you off if this is your gateway. Just know that there's far better stuff out there.
I don't think you're missing out on too much if you have to play them this way, and even if you've got all the gear to do proper lightgun games, these are a more comfortable and casual alternative. There's no fiddling with cables, or calibration, you don't need any special controllers, and you don't even have to sit upright or put that much effort into your aim. And hey, they're wireless! You take that for granted these days, but after messing around with G-Cons and Justifiers, it's refreshingly liberating. There's going to be those who scoff at the thought of playing a lightgun shooter with an on-screen reticle, but to me, that's just snobbery. Lightgun games are great, and this is a nice way to play them.
So what's Ghost Squad like?
ACCEPTABLE!
It's unlikely to leave much of a lasting impression, but it's a fine wee shooter. It attempts to straddle the divide between arcade game and console title with multiple routes and an unlock system. During each mission, you'll come to crossroads where you're given the choice of which path to take. Different routes change the scenario a little, sometimes asking you to rescue hostages, defuse bombs or use different weapons for short segments. About half your time in any given mission will be spent doing something other than the standard shooting. Sometimes it's kind of a cool change of pace, sometimes it feels like a lame minigame.
Having played a lot of these games now, I've realised something - I don't really care for rapid fire. Machine guns kind of dampen the experience. There's a satisfaction and reliability to pistol-based lightgun shooters. Aim well, pull the trigger, and they're down. Machine guns are kind of airy fairy. Kind of vague. Mushy. I'm not into it.
That's kind of the problem with Ghost Squad in general. It's mushy. Picking different lanes feels arbitrary. There's no sense of excitement or tension to it. Multiple routes can work really well in a lightgun shooter, but I think it's only really exciting when it's tied to how well you're playing. The House of the Dead 2 or Time Crisis's "Original Mode" provide alternate routes as an incentive to play as well as you can, and reward returning players who've become more proficient. In Ghost Squad, it's just an option of which minigame you fancy playing this time. It's boring.
That said, Ghost Squad is fine. Inoffensive. It's a fair representation of the genre, has a pleasantly corny aesthetic, and most crucially, it's really cheap. CeX are currently selling it for two quid. If you're looking for a way to play a lightgun game, but you're not that convinced you'd be into them, this is about as accessible as you can get these days.
I'd really encourage you to spend a bit more and get The House of the Dead 2 & 3 Return instead, which is about a million times better. But this is fine. Yeah. I'm not going to tell you off if this is your gateway. Just know that there's far better stuff out there.
Look at the time! It's schlock o'clock! Time to add another layer of total nonsense to the Resident Evil canon.
Did Albert Wesker invent ghosts? What a virus! It's nice that Rose can still go to school and live in a thriving city, some twenty years after apocalyptic global events. Look - I played through all four acts of Resi 6. The only thing I ask for in return is the freedom to relentlessly rip the piss out of the state they've left the Resident Evil storyline in.
Shadows of Rose is a mixed bag, starting out fairly strong with a new take on Resi 8's castle section, descending to a fairly tedious retread of the scary puppets bit alongside a crap stealth section, and tapping out before bringing back anything from the game's two other major sections. Maybe they're saving those bits to frame another DLC campaign around, maybe they had to scale back this campaign midway through production. Either way, their absence seems weird, given how much else they've dredged up.
I'd have been fine if they just did the castle bit. That's pretty much what I thought they'd done when it started to wrap up. I like these wee Bowser's Fury things that sum up the appeal of a bigger game in a tight little campaign. It's Resi, but it holds back on much of the key finding and, instead, uses big patches of Malice from Breath of the Wild to keep you from your destination. Rose has to run around them until she finds their weak spot and deactivates them. It's a fine little system that keeps goals and progression tangible, while stripping back on the scale of your searches. I'd have recommended the DLC if this is all it was.
The campaign then delves to further passionlessly plod through a clichéd, shallow and shockingly juvenile storyline. It's Frozen meets Casper in a PEGI 18 horror game. I just wanted it to end. The writers seemed to care as little about it as I did.
I had to try the last boss three times, because it requires you to do a new move in the last section, and you'll only know that if you have tutorial pop-ups turned on in the menu- I had them off since the second time Resident Evil Village reminded me what the reload button was, back in May 2021.
Did Albert Wesker invent ghosts? What a virus! It's nice that Rose can still go to school and live in a thriving city, some twenty years after apocalyptic global events. Look - I played through all four acts of Resi 6. The only thing I ask for in return is the freedom to relentlessly rip the piss out of the state they've left the Resident Evil storyline in.
Shadows of Rose is a mixed bag, starting out fairly strong with a new take on Resi 8's castle section, descending to a fairly tedious retread of the scary puppets bit alongside a crap stealth section, and tapping out before bringing back anything from the game's two other major sections. Maybe they're saving those bits to frame another DLC campaign around, maybe they had to scale back this campaign midway through production. Either way, their absence seems weird, given how much else they've dredged up.
I'd have been fine if they just did the castle bit. That's pretty much what I thought they'd done when it started to wrap up. I like these wee Bowser's Fury things that sum up the appeal of a bigger game in a tight little campaign. It's Resi, but it holds back on much of the key finding and, instead, uses big patches of Malice from Breath of the Wild to keep you from your destination. Rose has to run around them until she finds their weak spot and deactivates them. It's a fine little system that keeps goals and progression tangible, while stripping back on the scale of your searches. I'd have recommended the DLC if this is all it was.
The campaign then delves to further passionlessly plod through a clichéd, shallow and shockingly juvenile storyline. It's Frozen meets Casper in a PEGI 18 horror game. I just wanted it to end. The writers seemed to care as little about it as I did.
I had to try the last boss three times, because it requires you to do a new move in the last section, and you'll only know that if you have tutorial pop-ups turned on in the menu- I had them off since the second time Resident Evil Village reminded me what the reload button was, back in May 2021.
2001
The secret House of the Dead game. Vampire Night rules.
This is from Sega's WOW Entertainment (as they were helpfully called for about two years), carries precisely the same tone, pace and ruleset as they brought to HotD. This is as close as you'll get to House of the Dead 2 on a PS2. Other than Typing of the Dead: Zombie Panic.
House of the Dead is an ideal lightgun game. Easily distinguishable enemy types with distinct attack patterns, breakable items to reward quick shooting and dogshit voice acting. It's a game to get good at, whereas many lightgun games are just passing novelties.
This all holds true for Vampire Night. It doesn't go quite as far as HotD2. It's like they turned down the volume a wee bit. There's nothing on-par with Goldman's confrontation, but Sir Vampire is fairly enjoyable. It's also an easier game, which should be a relief to anyone who's managed to push themselves through a final boss in a House of the Dead before. No fucking boss rush, either.
Vampire Night takes on more of a gothic theme, and the game's artists are totally up to the job. Imposing castles, covered with stone pillars and intricate steel embellishments. It's good shit. Even the loading screens look great. I think the team might be better suited to cursed victims and old ruins than modern cities and biological experiments.
There's a wee bit of multi-route stuff based on how many innocent people you can save, seconds before they mutate. It's not a major draw here, and only alters small sections of a level, but it's a welcome touch to keep replays interesting and reward accuracy.
A nice benefit of Namco's involvement in the PS2 port is how well it supports both the G-Con 2 and G-Con 45. You've got a ton of options in how you want to reload. The traditional off-screen shot works, but so does pressing any of the extra buttons, or even using a second controller as a Time Crisis-style pedal. It's something that folk may take for granted, but in a game like this, where challenges switch from long-range enemies and accurately hitting weak spots to quick-moving flying enemies and rapidfire hell, it's really nice to be able to switch your grip on the fly to what feels the most comfortable in that moment. I find my middle finger is quicker than my index, but I'm much less accurate with it. I found myself holding the gun five different ways in my playthrough.
Vampire Night is a quick little game, unlikely to become your sole focus for any given night. I think that's why critics were dismissive of it upon release. It really is a cracking little arcade port though, and I think it cost me about three quid. If you're looking for a lightgun game, you're hoping to find something like Vampire Night.
This is from Sega's WOW Entertainment (as they were helpfully called for about two years), carries precisely the same tone, pace and ruleset as they brought to HotD. This is as close as you'll get to House of the Dead 2 on a PS2. Other than Typing of the Dead: Zombie Panic.
House of the Dead is an ideal lightgun game. Easily distinguishable enemy types with distinct attack patterns, breakable items to reward quick shooting and dogshit voice acting. It's a game to get good at, whereas many lightgun games are just passing novelties.
This all holds true for Vampire Night. It doesn't go quite as far as HotD2. It's like they turned down the volume a wee bit. There's nothing on-par with Goldman's confrontation, but Sir Vampire is fairly enjoyable. It's also an easier game, which should be a relief to anyone who's managed to push themselves through a final boss in a House of the Dead before. No fucking boss rush, either.
Vampire Night takes on more of a gothic theme, and the game's artists are totally up to the job. Imposing castles, covered with stone pillars and intricate steel embellishments. It's good shit. Even the loading screens look great. I think the team might be better suited to cursed victims and old ruins than modern cities and biological experiments.
There's a wee bit of multi-route stuff based on how many innocent people you can save, seconds before they mutate. It's not a major draw here, and only alters small sections of a level, but it's a welcome touch to keep replays interesting and reward accuracy.
A nice benefit of Namco's involvement in the PS2 port is how well it supports both the G-Con 2 and G-Con 45. You've got a ton of options in how you want to reload. The traditional off-screen shot works, but so does pressing any of the extra buttons, or even using a second controller as a Time Crisis-style pedal. It's something that folk may take for granted, but in a game like this, where challenges switch from long-range enemies and accurately hitting weak spots to quick-moving flying enemies and rapidfire hell, it's really nice to be able to switch your grip on the fly to what feels the most comfortable in that moment. I find my middle finger is quicker than my index, but I'm much less accurate with it. I found myself holding the gun five different ways in my playthrough.
Vampire Night is a quick little game, unlikely to become your sole focus for any given night. I think that's why critics were dismissive of it upon release. It really is a cracking little arcade port though, and I think it cost me about three quid. If you're looking for a lightgun game, you're hoping to find something like Vampire Night.
2019
It's worth bearing in mind how much the Resident Evil 2 remake was aiming to achieve. It was a remake of a widely beloved 1998 survival horror game that many saw as the genre's defining title, it was the long-awaited sequel to the best videogame remake ever made, it was a back-to-basics step backwards for a huge franchise that had spiralled out of control, it was a new attempt at recapturing the critical success of Resident Evil 4, and it was a massive tentpole release for one of the giants of Japanese videogame development. Capcom had struggled since the glory days of the PS2, with the rapid departure of major talent, and a dwindling market for console games in Japan. Taking on a project like a new Resi 2 would be a major show of renewed confidence, and they pretty much stuck the landing.
The "remake" branding is a little misleading, here. This is more of an adaptation. A shift in format, much like Steamforged's "Resident Evil 2: The Board Game". Capturing much of the iconography and ideas of Hideki Kamiya's original PlayStation title, and reappropriating them for a modern big budget action game. It's a game for those who like the idea of Resident Evil 2 more than they actively enjoy playing it. The folk who constantly pester developers on Twitter for remakes of everything because they can't be arsed working with memory cards.
What's admirable is how much they manage to cater to each strain of the playerbase. There's old Resi 2 ideas in here that only work because of how much Resi 2 surrounds it. Barricading windows, optional puzzles for more equipment, weapon upgrades you might miss, and rooms with multiple entrances. It's easy to see how any of these elements might have been completely fucked in a more linear design, or rendered irrelevant if the player was given too much freedom in any moment, but the balance has been maintained. Resi 2 still feels punchy, tense and suffocating.
The newfound freedom in the controls does lighten the atmosphere considerably, though. You're not locked into aiming spots, as you have access to a full range of movement with your gun drawn, but it's an aspect of the game that the developers saw value in. Standing still while aiming will steady your shot and make attacks more effective. For the player, it's a nervous balance of how much you want to hurt the monsters and how scared you are that they'll come lunging for you. Controls are far more intricate here too, allowing for a whole range of considerations when targeting an enemy. It builds on the old risk/reward Resi dynamic of the safe body shot or tricky headshot, allowing for players to strategically target limbs to stumble or effectively nullify approaching zombies. The greater range in movement would make it easier to avoid enemies altogether, if only it didn't apply to them as well. There's a lot of variables that Capcom had to manage to make this new approach work, and I'd argue they achieved it.
There's also the perspective of how well this works as a follow-up to the 2002 GameCube Resident Evil. That game's biggest success is in how it played with player expectations to turn a familiar, and increasingly comforting environment into a devious and terrifying one. From the moment the dogs didn't smash through the window, old fans knew the game was fucking with them, and they could never be too comfortable with what lay ahead. It's a moment the 2019 Resi 2 attempts to repeat with the first Licker, though its biggest achievement is in how it handles "Mr X" - a constant roaming presence in moments where the player would otherwise have a little too much to find safety in. Watching how much noise you're making, and actively listening for recognisable footsteps in nearby rooms really works well, adding light stealth elements to the tension. It's a brilliant use of the playing pieces laid out by the original game, keeping it fresh while never feeling out of step with the design.
What's crucial to my affection is the game's tone. If Claire or Leon seemed too smart, too confident or too frightened, it would have completely fucked it for me. They aren't. They're nice kids. Wholesome, and very assured of their own coolness. The pair meeting outside the east wing of the RCPD, and sharing a breezy conversation as zombies emerged from the apocalyptic chaos of the city, reassured me that Capcom had totally nailed the characterisation. They're very lovable, and I was grateful to play as them.
Then there's the stuff that doesn't work quite so well for me. The voice in my head that screams "THE ALLIGATOR" whenever I see the keyart. They totally fucked the alligator. The gameplay of the original sequence was always more of a setpiece than an intricate bossfight, but it was memorable, exciting and fun. A whimsical progression of Resi 1's use of giant evil animal bosses, and my own fondness for snapping crocodilians made the moment one of the major highlights of the game. In the remake, it's a fleeting Crash Bandicoot run towards the camera as a monster, obscured by piles of sewer refuse, takes three bites at you and dies. Fuck off. I'd have welcomed a QTE sequence that really played up the dynamics of the escape, but Capcom cowered away from wrongheaded criticism of Resi 4 and replaced it with something so insubstantial they might as well have skipped it entirely. It takes a lot for me not to write off the game entirely for that alone. It's indicative of much of the approach the remake takes towards big action sequences and setpieces, too. There's very little in here that captures the weight, foundational excitement and charm of those original moments. The freedom of camera movement, expansive environments and dynamic character models often places these moments somewhere on the scale between TV ad and Advent Children.
I forgive that, though. It's because the love for Resi 2, and the respect for those who love it, is so clear here. They saw how broad an audience they wanted to appeal to, and made sure what they delivered was still Resi 2. I'm of the opinion that it's even more critical to determine whether you're talking about this game or the original when you declare that you like Resident Evil 2, but I don't think it's a subject that the oldguard fans have the right to get snobby about. I can keep coming back to my Dreamcast copy, but there's a lot to draw me back to the remake too.
The "remake" branding is a little misleading, here. This is more of an adaptation. A shift in format, much like Steamforged's "Resident Evil 2: The Board Game". Capturing much of the iconography and ideas of Hideki Kamiya's original PlayStation title, and reappropriating them for a modern big budget action game. It's a game for those who like the idea of Resident Evil 2 more than they actively enjoy playing it. The folk who constantly pester developers on Twitter for remakes of everything because they can't be arsed working with memory cards.
What's admirable is how much they manage to cater to each strain of the playerbase. There's old Resi 2 ideas in here that only work because of how much Resi 2 surrounds it. Barricading windows, optional puzzles for more equipment, weapon upgrades you might miss, and rooms with multiple entrances. It's easy to see how any of these elements might have been completely fucked in a more linear design, or rendered irrelevant if the player was given too much freedom in any moment, but the balance has been maintained. Resi 2 still feels punchy, tense and suffocating.
The newfound freedom in the controls does lighten the atmosphere considerably, though. You're not locked into aiming spots, as you have access to a full range of movement with your gun drawn, but it's an aspect of the game that the developers saw value in. Standing still while aiming will steady your shot and make attacks more effective. For the player, it's a nervous balance of how much you want to hurt the monsters and how scared you are that they'll come lunging for you. Controls are far more intricate here too, allowing for a whole range of considerations when targeting an enemy. It builds on the old risk/reward Resi dynamic of the safe body shot or tricky headshot, allowing for players to strategically target limbs to stumble or effectively nullify approaching zombies. The greater range in movement would make it easier to avoid enemies altogether, if only it didn't apply to them as well. There's a lot of variables that Capcom had to manage to make this new approach work, and I'd argue they achieved it.
There's also the perspective of how well this works as a follow-up to the 2002 GameCube Resident Evil. That game's biggest success is in how it played with player expectations to turn a familiar, and increasingly comforting environment into a devious and terrifying one. From the moment the dogs didn't smash through the window, old fans knew the game was fucking with them, and they could never be too comfortable with what lay ahead. It's a moment the 2019 Resi 2 attempts to repeat with the first Licker, though its biggest achievement is in how it handles "Mr X" - a constant roaming presence in moments where the player would otherwise have a little too much to find safety in. Watching how much noise you're making, and actively listening for recognisable footsteps in nearby rooms really works well, adding light stealth elements to the tension. It's a brilliant use of the playing pieces laid out by the original game, keeping it fresh while never feeling out of step with the design.
What's crucial to my affection is the game's tone. If Claire or Leon seemed too smart, too confident or too frightened, it would have completely fucked it for me. They aren't. They're nice kids. Wholesome, and very assured of their own coolness. The pair meeting outside the east wing of the RCPD, and sharing a breezy conversation as zombies emerged from the apocalyptic chaos of the city, reassured me that Capcom had totally nailed the characterisation. They're very lovable, and I was grateful to play as them.
Then there's the stuff that doesn't work quite so well for me. The voice in my head that screams "THE ALLIGATOR" whenever I see the keyart. They totally fucked the alligator. The gameplay of the original sequence was always more of a setpiece than an intricate bossfight, but it was memorable, exciting and fun. A whimsical progression of Resi 1's use of giant evil animal bosses, and my own fondness for snapping crocodilians made the moment one of the major highlights of the game. In the remake, it's a fleeting Crash Bandicoot run towards the camera as a monster, obscured by piles of sewer refuse, takes three bites at you and dies. Fuck off. I'd have welcomed a QTE sequence that really played up the dynamics of the escape, but Capcom cowered away from wrongheaded criticism of Resi 4 and replaced it with something so insubstantial they might as well have skipped it entirely. It takes a lot for me not to write off the game entirely for that alone. It's indicative of much of the approach the remake takes towards big action sequences and setpieces, too. There's very little in here that captures the weight, foundational excitement and charm of those original moments. The freedom of camera movement, expansive environments and dynamic character models often places these moments somewhere on the scale between TV ad and Advent Children.
I forgive that, though. It's because the love for Resi 2, and the respect for those who love it, is so clear here. They saw how broad an audience they wanted to appeal to, and made sure what they delivered was still Resi 2. I'm of the opinion that it's even more critical to determine whether you're talking about this game or the original when you declare that you like Resident Evil 2, but I don't think it's a subject that the oldguard fans have the right to get snobby about. I can keep coming back to my Dreamcast copy, but there's a lot to draw me back to the remake too.
1995
You know what. Fuck it. Time Crisis 1 is the best.
The president's daughter has been kidnapped on a remote castle island. It's sunset and you have a leather jacket. Time Crisis fucking rocks.
There's a certain je ne sais quoi to Namco's late 90s output. No other developer carried so much of what defined the "video game" in the prior decade and a half into their early 3D output, and certainly not while feeling so daring, bold and unbound by convention. There's always such a strong sense of style and energy, and there's few better examples of it than Time Crisis 1.
I have a bit of a history with TC (close friends are allowed to call it that, providing it's with dignity). Our family went on a big international holiday when I was about 11, visiting cities, theme parks and national heritage sites, but finding this arcade cabinet on the ferry there, complete with its chunky paddle and sliding recoil action, irritatingly remained the highlight of my trip when my parents asked afterwards. I was delighted to receive the PS1 port on my subsequent birthday. I think that's still my favourite birthday present ever. Finding a CRT on the side of the road earlier this year presented a dilemma. Claiming and carrying a heavy discarded television for half an hour back to my home was challenging and embarrassing, but the longing to bring Time Crisis back into my life made me accept who I was, and push past the looks of disgust and bewilderment from passing pedestrians.
The game is so excited about 3D. Swooping helicopters, a ride on suspended platforms, shoot-outs in active factories, wee moments of cinema. The ducking reload system is so much cooler than anything that preceded it, making you feel just that little bit more involved with your surrounding environment, and making avoiding attacks something more interesting than simply shooting the other guy first. Beyond gunfire, there's moving hazards you have to watch out for. Lunging attacks can be avoided with a quick duck, and effectively countered by popping back up before they retreat.
Enemy designs are simple, and instantly recognisable. You see a red guy, shoot him first, because he's dangerous. Orange? Get him for a time bonus. Blue are fodder, but you need to dispatch them quickly to keep on top of the ticking clock at the bottom of the screen. Standard enemies never take more than a single shot, making your gun feel powerful and keeping high-level play frantic.
What really makes me love Time Crisis 1 is that it's all one self-contained scenario. Having distinct levels in your game is an easy way to add variety, but as is true in games like Metal Gear Solid and Resident Evil, little can make the objective as meaningful or the threat as tangible as laying all the cards on the table and have the player sweat and scramble through to the end, carrying each new war wound into the next fight. This is a "Time Crisis". You've got to sort this shit out right now. You're not getting a plane ride to an ice level halfway through.
Time Crisis is filled with little 10-second screens that change up the pace and keep it exciting. The bit where you step back from a barricade, or open a door into a 15 foot drop, or have to shoot gunners hiding behind turrets before they fire at you. It's just great. I love it.
The scenario of an old empire's coup against an incumbent presidency is great, too. The old regime's castle has been around for centuries, isolated from the rest of the world, but growing technologically advanced by their active war interests. You get romantic stone walkways, and the iconic clocktowers, hiding rooms full of submarines and blinking control panels. It's such a cool playset for this gun game.
It's the top of tip, it's the championship, it's the most tip-top Time Crisis.
(FURTHER PARAGRAPHS EXPLICITLY COVER THE EXPERIENCE OF PLAYING THIS VIA THE JAPAN-ONLY PS2 "GUNVARI COLLECTION + TIME CRISIS" RELEASE, AND I WOULD DISCOURAGE ANYONE OTHER THAN HARDCORE TC FANS FROM VENTURING FURTHER)
Bringing Time Crisis to the PS2 allowed Namco the opportunity to bring the arcade version to home consoles. Curiously, this isn't what they decided to do. What you get on the disc is essentially the PS1 ISO, but with G-Con 2 support.
Endearingly, in-engine assets used to reflect the G-Con 45 have now been modified to reflect the new controller. Take a closer look, and you'll notice Richard Miller, as well as Point Blank's Dr. Don and Dr. Dan, are now holding G-Con 2s in their respective keyart.
The increased precision of the G-Con 2 is welcome, and I was even able to hit that six pixel guy behind the distant turret at the start of Level 3 in one shot, but the game insists on using A as the reload button, which doesn't make for quite as comfortable a grip, so you may opt for your old 45, regardless. You can still use a second controller as a makeshift pedal, but the game seems fussy about which controllers you can use. I was only able to get a Dualshock 2 to work, but entertainingly, everything works on it. I was able to use L3 and R3 as my duck button. You may find success with contemporary Namco controllers, or maybe even PS2-era steering wheel pedals, but I can't guarantee that.
The game still displays in pixel-heavy 240p, with the biggest performance boost appearing to be in the loading times. It shaves a second or two off between stages, though you're sometimes faced with a disconcerting black screen.
All the familiar PS1 stuff is here, including the Original Mode and the old options menu. I wouldn't recommend getting this unless you're also interested in playing Japanese-language releases of the Point Blank games, but the precision and slightly quicker stage transitions are welcome. I'm sure anyone who's made it to the very end of this review wouldn't be dissuaded if this has piqued their interest.
The president's daughter has been kidnapped on a remote castle island. It's sunset and you have a leather jacket. Time Crisis fucking rocks.
There's a certain je ne sais quoi to Namco's late 90s output. No other developer carried so much of what defined the "video game" in the prior decade and a half into their early 3D output, and certainly not while feeling so daring, bold and unbound by convention. There's always such a strong sense of style and energy, and there's few better examples of it than Time Crisis 1.
I have a bit of a history with TC (close friends are allowed to call it that, providing it's with dignity). Our family went on a big international holiday when I was about 11, visiting cities, theme parks and national heritage sites, but finding this arcade cabinet on the ferry there, complete with its chunky paddle and sliding recoil action, irritatingly remained the highlight of my trip when my parents asked afterwards. I was delighted to receive the PS1 port on my subsequent birthday. I think that's still my favourite birthday present ever. Finding a CRT on the side of the road earlier this year presented a dilemma. Claiming and carrying a heavy discarded television for half an hour back to my home was challenging and embarrassing, but the longing to bring Time Crisis back into my life made me accept who I was, and push past the looks of disgust and bewilderment from passing pedestrians.
The game is so excited about 3D. Swooping helicopters, a ride on suspended platforms, shoot-outs in active factories, wee moments of cinema. The ducking reload system is so much cooler than anything that preceded it, making you feel just that little bit more involved with your surrounding environment, and making avoiding attacks something more interesting than simply shooting the other guy first. Beyond gunfire, there's moving hazards you have to watch out for. Lunging attacks can be avoided with a quick duck, and effectively countered by popping back up before they retreat.
Enemy designs are simple, and instantly recognisable. You see a red guy, shoot him first, because he's dangerous. Orange? Get him for a time bonus. Blue are fodder, but you need to dispatch them quickly to keep on top of the ticking clock at the bottom of the screen. Standard enemies never take more than a single shot, making your gun feel powerful and keeping high-level play frantic.
What really makes me love Time Crisis 1 is that it's all one self-contained scenario. Having distinct levels in your game is an easy way to add variety, but as is true in games like Metal Gear Solid and Resident Evil, little can make the objective as meaningful or the threat as tangible as laying all the cards on the table and have the player sweat and scramble through to the end, carrying each new war wound into the next fight. This is a "Time Crisis". You've got to sort this shit out right now. You're not getting a plane ride to an ice level halfway through.
Time Crisis is filled with little 10-second screens that change up the pace and keep it exciting. The bit where you step back from a barricade, or open a door into a 15 foot drop, or have to shoot gunners hiding behind turrets before they fire at you. It's just great. I love it.
The scenario of an old empire's coup against an incumbent presidency is great, too. The old regime's castle has been around for centuries, isolated from the rest of the world, but growing technologically advanced by their active war interests. You get romantic stone walkways, and the iconic clocktowers, hiding rooms full of submarines and blinking control panels. It's such a cool playset for this gun game.
It's the top of tip, it's the championship, it's the most tip-top Time Crisis.
(FURTHER PARAGRAPHS EXPLICITLY COVER THE EXPERIENCE OF PLAYING THIS VIA THE JAPAN-ONLY PS2 "GUNVARI COLLECTION + TIME CRISIS" RELEASE, AND I WOULD DISCOURAGE ANYONE OTHER THAN HARDCORE TC FANS FROM VENTURING FURTHER)
Bringing Time Crisis to the PS2 allowed Namco the opportunity to bring the arcade version to home consoles. Curiously, this isn't what they decided to do. What you get on the disc is essentially the PS1 ISO, but with G-Con 2 support.
Endearingly, in-engine assets used to reflect the G-Con 45 have now been modified to reflect the new controller. Take a closer look, and you'll notice Richard Miller, as well as Point Blank's Dr. Don and Dr. Dan, are now holding G-Con 2s in their respective keyart.
The increased precision of the G-Con 2 is welcome, and I was even able to hit that six pixel guy behind the distant turret at the start of Level 3 in one shot, but the game insists on using A as the reload button, which doesn't make for quite as comfortable a grip, so you may opt for your old 45, regardless. You can still use a second controller as a makeshift pedal, but the game seems fussy about which controllers you can use. I was only able to get a Dualshock 2 to work, but entertainingly, everything works on it. I was able to use L3 and R3 as my duck button. You may find success with contemporary Namco controllers, or maybe even PS2-era steering wheel pedals, but I can't guarantee that.
The game still displays in pixel-heavy 240p, with the biggest performance boost appearing to be in the loading times. It shaves a second or two off between stages, though you're sometimes faced with a disconcerting black screen.
All the familiar PS1 stuff is here, including the Original Mode and the old options menu. I wouldn't recommend getting this unless you're also interested in playing Japanese-language releases of the Point Blank games, but the precision and slightly quicker stage transitions are welcome. I'm sure anyone who's made it to the very end of this review wouldn't be dissuaded if this has piqued their interest.
1982
Dig Dug is my favourite classic arcade game. Something where both its mechanical depth and its immediate charm work spectacularly well in tandem. The experience of learning how to get good at an old arcade game often involves outside learning, reading up on clandestine techniques discovered from decades old Japan-only player guides and deeplearning AI bot routines, but Dig Dug gives you enough on-screen to intuit how to become a better player.
It's comparable to Pac-Man and QIX, but offers a far more compelling set of rules than either of them. A single-screen game where monsters roam and chase you, but you can move in any direction. You create tunnels as you move, and when an enemy gets in your tunnel, they beeline straight for you. This can be exploited to lead them towards traps, crushing them with rocks, or if you get desperate, you can take them out by getting your pump and inflating them until they burst like a balloon. The lower on the screen you kill an enemy, the higher your score, and if you manage to crush multiple enemies at the same time, that'll increase your score further.
I think a lot of people try Dig Dug, only use the pump, and dismiss it as a bit of a cute novelty, but once you learn that your priority should be crushing enemies, it really starts to come together. That's when the draw towards trying again becomes truly powerful.
When you become really familiar with the game, you'll start to learn the characteristics of Pooka and Fygar AI. You'll be temporarily inflating enemies and running away, to keep them at bay without blowing the points you could get from them. You'll develop strategies you'll lean back on in specific scenarios. I've developed a very specific route through Level 1, in an attempt to reliably maximise my score early on, but I don't even know if it's the best way to approach that layout of tunnels, rocks and enemies. That's what I like so much about Dig Dug. I'm leaning back on what's worked for me, but another player might have completely different solutions. It's why I've largely tried to block-out professional and speedrunning communities. My relationship with the game is the one sacred element in my enjoyment of videogames. I don't want to be told the "right way" to do it. Just leave me alone with Dig Dug. I don't need to get Twin Galaxies in on this shit. I'm not interested in learning someone else's dance routine.
It's that freedom that Dig Dug presents. You can go in any direction at any point. It's Pac-Man, but you're creating the maze yourself. You can get greedy and invite the whole screen of enemies to chase you towards a trap, but you'd better know exactly what you're working with. An unexpected detour could be the death of you.
On my best sessions, I've been setting up false paths to slow down enemies, and seeing them reliably waste their time in empty corridors while I construct my master trap elsewhere. When you know what you can really do with a Dig Dug screen, there's no denying that this game is lightyears ahead of its competition. There's so much freedom, and the threat of failure is always real, present and on-screen. The risk/reward dynamic is so tangible and alluring. Knowing my own tastes, it's a game I'd strongly recommend to classic Metal Gear fans.
One thing I'd like to make clear is that players should be wary of the console ports. If it's not running the arcade version, you probably don't want to waste your time on it. I've been really impressed with the MSX version, replicating the precise AI quirks of the arcade game in a version with more rudimentary presentation, and I'm able to approach scenarios with the same techniques I've learned on the arcade version. The Famicom/NES version tends to get ported a lot, and I'd strongly discourage the purchase of My Arcade systems that emulate it. If you really want to challenge yourself to learn the depth of the game's quirks, I'd encourage you to try the PS4/Xbox One ARCADE GAME SERIES: DIG DUG release and chase the "Dig" achievement, where you have to clear an entire screen of dirt while keeping at least two enemies active on the screen. It's not something you'll be able to do without knowing the game inside out, but again, you'll be able to intuit all of that by playing it.
Dig Dug is a game I'll never stop playing. Something that has really built my respect for Namco and simplistic game design. Everyone likes a Pooka. It's knowing how much you can get from them that really makes Dig Dug great.
It's comparable to Pac-Man and QIX, but offers a far more compelling set of rules than either of them. A single-screen game where monsters roam and chase you, but you can move in any direction. You create tunnels as you move, and when an enemy gets in your tunnel, they beeline straight for you. This can be exploited to lead them towards traps, crushing them with rocks, or if you get desperate, you can take them out by getting your pump and inflating them until they burst like a balloon. The lower on the screen you kill an enemy, the higher your score, and if you manage to crush multiple enemies at the same time, that'll increase your score further.
I think a lot of people try Dig Dug, only use the pump, and dismiss it as a bit of a cute novelty, but once you learn that your priority should be crushing enemies, it really starts to come together. That's when the draw towards trying again becomes truly powerful.
When you become really familiar with the game, you'll start to learn the characteristics of Pooka and Fygar AI. You'll be temporarily inflating enemies and running away, to keep them at bay without blowing the points you could get from them. You'll develop strategies you'll lean back on in specific scenarios. I've developed a very specific route through Level 1, in an attempt to reliably maximise my score early on, but I don't even know if it's the best way to approach that layout of tunnels, rocks and enemies. That's what I like so much about Dig Dug. I'm leaning back on what's worked for me, but another player might have completely different solutions. It's why I've largely tried to block-out professional and speedrunning communities. My relationship with the game is the one sacred element in my enjoyment of videogames. I don't want to be told the "right way" to do it. Just leave me alone with Dig Dug. I don't need to get Twin Galaxies in on this shit. I'm not interested in learning someone else's dance routine.
It's that freedom that Dig Dug presents. You can go in any direction at any point. It's Pac-Man, but you're creating the maze yourself. You can get greedy and invite the whole screen of enemies to chase you towards a trap, but you'd better know exactly what you're working with. An unexpected detour could be the death of you.
On my best sessions, I've been setting up false paths to slow down enemies, and seeing them reliably waste their time in empty corridors while I construct my master trap elsewhere. When you know what you can really do with a Dig Dug screen, there's no denying that this game is lightyears ahead of its competition. There's so much freedom, and the threat of failure is always real, present and on-screen. The risk/reward dynamic is so tangible and alluring. Knowing my own tastes, it's a game I'd strongly recommend to classic Metal Gear fans.
One thing I'd like to make clear is that players should be wary of the console ports. If it's not running the arcade version, you probably don't want to waste your time on it. I've been really impressed with the MSX version, replicating the precise AI quirks of the arcade game in a version with more rudimentary presentation, and I'm able to approach scenarios with the same techniques I've learned on the arcade version. The Famicom/NES version tends to get ported a lot, and I'd strongly discourage the purchase of My Arcade systems that emulate it. If you really want to challenge yourself to learn the depth of the game's quirks, I'd encourage you to try the PS4/Xbox One ARCADE GAME SERIES: DIG DUG release and chase the "Dig" achievement, where you have to clear an entire screen of dirt while keeping at least two enemies active on the screen. It's not something you'll be able to do without knowing the game inside out, but again, you'll be able to intuit all of that by playing it.
Dig Dug is a game I'll never stop playing. Something that has really built my respect for Namco and simplistic game design. Everyone likes a Pooka. It's knowing how much you can get from them that really makes Dig Dug great.
In recent years, I've become a big fan of videogame documentaries and books. Not the making-of things that publishers have created to promote a new release, and paint everything in a glowing light, but the retrospective deep dives that give us a better understanding of how and why games turned out the way they are. My top recommendations would be Darren Wall's Sega Mega Drive/Genesis: Collected Works, From Bedrooms to Billions: The PlayStation Revolution, Playing with Power: The Nintendo Story and Power On: The Story of Xbox. They all have flaws, and none of them are definitive, but they all do a great job of shining light on the creative decisions and constraints that lead to the consoles that shaped the industry. One of the biggest outliers in this has been Atari, who were the company that turned some exciting computer experiments into a business. Instead of a book, film or TV series, they've opted to do what's in their nature and sell us a videogame.
There are aspects of Atari 50 that are really terrific. The menus take you through a linear history of Atari, chronicling releases and events through archival footage, newly recorded interviews, scanned documents, incredible artwork - and importantly - playable games. The start of this timeline gives a really strong impression, with 1973 footage of Nolan Bushnell walking through a warehouse of newly-produced Pong cabinets, and insight into just what these people were working with as they introduced the general public to videogames. Each game is framed with archival material, developer interviews and advertisements that give us a far better impression of their intentions and how they were met than just giving us a ROM and leaving a 2022 audience to make their own impressions, ignorant of what each game really is.
This naturally becomes less of a factor as the seventies shift to the eighties, when licensed titles that Atari don't have the rights to rerelease, and third-parties become more important to the Atari 2600's history than the first party line-up. I'm no Atari enthusiast, but I could see the massive gaps in the story. E.T. and Pac-Man coverage essentially amounts to a photo of the landfill, and Activision appear to have no interest in having anything to do with this release. Regardless, it's still a great place to learn about the console. I've gained new respect for what developers were able to produce on a system where programmers had to write code around where the CRT gun was drawing as it produced each new frame, sixty times a second. People weren't making Secret Quest because they were too stupid to make Grand Theft Auto V. It took incredible skill, patience and imagination to produce this stuff.
This declining insight carries us through the rest of the eighties, and into the nineties, and the Jaguar titles seem like a novelty for PR rather than something that was considered part of the remit. We're rarely given any insight into how these titles were made, what they were intended to accomplish, or the competition they were up against. There's no Atari ST games here, which from a European perspective, seems like a massive oversight. This is mainly an American product for nostalgic boomers, and serves limited purpose for videogame fans interested in the industry's history.
Then there's how it fares as a compilation. The framing device really works well to give players appreciation for the games on offer. Atari aren't a Nintendo or a Namco or a Sega, though. They aren't sitting on a treasure trove of undeniable all-time classics. They're an important part of videogame history, and it's great to get to play a lot of these games, but there's not many that you're likely to come back to afterwards. What's most disappointing is how they've opted to emulate paddle controls. Much of Atari's earliest games relied on an analogue dial to control paddles, and I insist that if you give players an appropriate alternative, Pong, Breakout and Warlords can still be a great time for modern audiences. That's not really the case with how Atari 50 presents them, with jumpy, unreliable control. Analogue controllers do a far better job of emulating trackballs, though, and I've come away from Atari 50 as a new Missile Command fan. The blunt brutality of its subject and presentation still connects, and the increasing desperation from players as they attempt to hang onto their remaining missiles and silos, pre-empting how the strikes will land, is really great. It's a political Space Invaders, and far better for it.
Irrespective of how little the documentary side of the package seems to care about them, the later games are still interesting. I now feel like I've got a personal connection to how shite the Jaguar truly was. How completely out of their depth Atari were in launching Club Drive and Fight for Life against Ridge Racer and Virtua Fighter 2. Tempest 2000 is still pretty cool, but it's a shame they didn't go a little further in working with Jeff Minter and include 3000 or TxK. I know there were better Jaguar games, but you're not going to find Aliens vs Predator or Cannon Fodder in a 2022 Atari release.
Then there's the "Reimagined" tribute titles that have been included. They're very curious, sitting on the timeline alongside their primary inspirations. They feel like those out-of-touch arcade revivals we got in the 90s and 2000s, like the PS2 Defender or PS1 Centipede, and they're likely the result of commercially unviable projects for that new VCS that you already forgot was a thing. I know Atari love Haunted House, and see it as a direct progenitor of Resident Evil, but I fucking don't. A newly-produced release of the final SwordQuest game, "Airworld" is here, but I'm unconvinced that if it had come out in 1984, it would have included a Flappy Bird minigame. "VCTR-SCTR" is a kind-of-cool tribute to Vector-based arcade games, shifting between homages to Asteroids, Lunar Lander and Tempest, almost WarioWare style, but it feels out of place alongside a visually enhanced version of Yar's Revenge that boasts it's still built on 2600 code. In fact, why are these here at all, and not Atari's cloying post-Jaguar attempts? These count as historical, but PS1 Pong and 2008 Alone in the Dark don't?
So, it's a mixed bag. Maybe this team could have put out a really great series of videos covering Atari's history, but licencing issues become a bigger problem when releasing it as a game. I don't think it sells itself to new players on the strength of its library, though those who grew up playing Atari games in the 70s and 80s might be pleased with what's on offer. I think its strongest parts are solid enough to pave over its shortcomings and missed potential though. As I said in the opening paragraph, none of these releases are definitive or without flaws, and if you can find a reasonable price on Atari 50, it can stand as one of the more interesting entries in that line-up.
There are aspects of Atari 50 that are really terrific. The menus take you through a linear history of Atari, chronicling releases and events through archival footage, newly recorded interviews, scanned documents, incredible artwork - and importantly - playable games. The start of this timeline gives a really strong impression, with 1973 footage of Nolan Bushnell walking through a warehouse of newly-produced Pong cabinets, and insight into just what these people were working with as they introduced the general public to videogames. Each game is framed with archival material, developer interviews and advertisements that give us a far better impression of their intentions and how they were met than just giving us a ROM and leaving a 2022 audience to make their own impressions, ignorant of what each game really is.
This naturally becomes less of a factor as the seventies shift to the eighties, when licensed titles that Atari don't have the rights to rerelease, and third-parties become more important to the Atari 2600's history than the first party line-up. I'm no Atari enthusiast, but I could see the massive gaps in the story. E.T. and Pac-Man coverage essentially amounts to a photo of the landfill, and Activision appear to have no interest in having anything to do with this release. Regardless, it's still a great place to learn about the console. I've gained new respect for what developers were able to produce on a system where programmers had to write code around where the CRT gun was drawing as it produced each new frame, sixty times a second. People weren't making Secret Quest because they were too stupid to make Grand Theft Auto V. It took incredible skill, patience and imagination to produce this stuff.
This declining insight carries us through the rest of the eighties, and into the nineties, and the Jaguar titles seem like a novelty for PR rather than something that was considered part of the remit. We're rarely given any insight into how these titles were made, what they were intended to accomplish, or the competition they were up against. There's no Atari ST games here, which from a European perspective, seems like a massive oversight. This is mainly an American product for nostalgic boomers, and serves limited purpose for videogame fans interested in the industry's history.
Then there's how it fares as a compilation. The framing device really works well to give players appreciation for the games on offer. Atari aren't a Nintendo or a Namco or a Sega, though. They aren't sitting on a treasure trove of undeniable all-time classics. They're an important part of videogame history, and it's great to get to play a lot of these games, but there's not many that you're likely to come back to afterwards. What's most disappointing is how they've opted to emulate paddle controls. Much of Atari's earliest games relied on an analogue dial to control paddles, and I insist that if you give players an appropriate alternative, Pong, Breakout and Warlords can still be a great time for modern audiences. That's not really the case with how Atari 50 presents them, with jumpy, unreliable control. Analogue controllers do a far better job of emulating trackballs, though, and I've come away from Atari 50 as a new Missile Command fan. The blunt brutality of its subject and presentation still connects, and the increasing desperation from players as they attempt to hang onto their remaining missiles and silos, pre-empting how the strikes will land, is really great. It's a political Space Invaders, and far better for it.
Irrespective of how little the documentary side of the package seems to care about them, the later games are still interesting. I now feel like I've got a personal connection to how shite the Jaguar truly was. How completely out of their depth Atari were in launching Club Drive and Fight for Life against Ridge Racer and Virtua Fighter 2. Tempest 2000 is still pretty cool, but it's a shame they didn't go a little further in working with Jeff Minter and include 3000 or TxK. I know there were better Jaguar games, but you're not going to find Aliens vs Predator or Cannon Fodder in a 2022 Atari release.
Then there's the "Reimagined" tribute titles that have been included. They're very curious, sitting on the timeline alongside their primary inspirations. They feel like those out-of-touch arcade revivals we got in the 90s and 2000s, like the PS2 Defender or PS1 Centipede, and they're likely the result of commercially unviable projects for that new VCS that you already forgot was a thing. I know Atari love Haunted House, and see it as a direct progenitor of Resident Evil, but I fucking don't. A newly-produced release of the final SwordQuest game, "Airworld" is here, but I'm unconvinced that if it had come out in 1984, it would have included a Flappy Bird minigame. "VCTR-SCTR" is a kind-of-cool tribute to Vector-based arcade games, shifting between homages to Asteroids, Lunar Lander and Tempest, almost WarioWare style, but it feels out of place alongside a visually enhanced version of Yar's Revenge that boasts it's still built on 2600 code. In fact, why are these here at all, and not Atari's cloying post-Jaguar attempts? These count as historical, but PS1 Pong and 2008 Alone in the Dark don't?
So, it's a mixed bag. Maybe this team could have put out a really great series of videos covering Atari's history, but licencing issues become a bigger problem when releasing it as a game. I don't think it sells itself to new players on the strength of its library, though those who grew up playing Atari games in the 70s and 80s might be pleased with what's on offer. I think its strongest parts are solid enough to pave over its shortcomings and missed potential though. As I said in the opening paragraph, none of these releases are definitive or without flaws, and if you can find a reasonable price on Atari 50, it can stand as one of the more interesting entries in that line-up.
Taito looked at Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal and wondered why they didn't dress like Robert Plant.
Cracking arcade platform shooter, and one of the few examples of a gritty reboot of a cute 80s classic really, really working. Pretty brainless if you're happy to throw in endless credits, but tense and exciting if you're really watching your health. A few too many sections with bullshit enemy arrangement, but it complements the game's chip shop rental charm.
I played through on the new S-Tribute Switch release, which is based on the Saturn port. This brings back the console-exclusive feature of loading screens, and new widescreen borders that you can't turn off. Savvier players may opt to play this on Taito Legends 2 instead, but what's a tenner for the sake of convenience?
Cracking arcade platform shooter, and one of the few examples of a gritty reboot of a cute 80s classic really, really working. Pretty brainless if you're happy to throw in endless credits, but tense and exciting if you're really watching your health. A few too many sections with bullshit enemy arrangement, but it complements the game's chip shop rental charm.
I played through on the new S-Tribute Switch release, which is based on the Saturn port. This brings back the console-exclusive feature of loading screens, and new widescreen borders that you can't turn off. Savvier players may opt to play this on Taito Legends 2 instead, but what's a tenner for the sake of convenience?