In a year of wonderful Nintendo games, F-Zero 99 is perhaps the most surprising. And I don't mean surprise solely in the context of its announcement and revival of F-Zero after a near twenty-year hiatus. F-Zero 99 is surprising in that it's exceptional.
I wouldn't call the other 35/99 games exceptional, their success feels, in part, closer to novelty than anything else. Tetris 99 is a brilliant concept, but there's a routine asynchronicity to the gameplay - everyone's boards set off independently, intertwining only only a predetermined moments. It's interesting, I had a great time with the game, and it laid a unique foundation.
But at a certain point, it, Mario 35, and Pac-Man 99 all circle a similar drain of simply overlaying competitive-lite elements and busy UI onto insulated, solo gameplay loops. By my later hours with Tetris 99, I was really fighting against myself and my own skill ceiling with the junk lines thrown by my opponents being something of a secondary concern.
F-Zero 99 could've been similarly designed with the Tetris 99 philosophy and UI, Grey Bumpers being thrown onto your track by opponents, the track narrowing with each successive lap.
But, it tries something else. F-Zero 99 is exceptional because it synchronously puts you in direct contact with 98 others on track. This is genuine chaos, a twitch bout of kinetic action and reaction as you fly around corners and burn your boost power, each collision on track chipping just a bit more away.
There is a brilliant synthesis of F-Zero's decades-long ethos of aggressive racing and the intrinsic competition of battle royale here. The concept is not only harmonious but the execution is fantastic. Merging mechanics from F-Zero (SNES) and F-Zero X with modern sensibilities, there is a sort of timeless feel to how the game has been crafted. Like NES Remix before it, F-Zero 99 feels out of time in best possible way.
It also feels remarkably complete for being entirely free-to-play. Solid progression systems, illustrated menus, multiple game modes (with more on the way) - in breadth the game well exceeds what I expected from a 99 title as well.
Most critically though, the depth of F-Zero 99 feels bottomless even after my fifteen hours of gameplay. You begin by floundering on track, trying just to finish races. But then you become taken by interlocking systems that don't begin to appear until you're able to just handle yourself and cross the finish line. You start to manage your Golden Sparks and employ strategic usage of the Skyway. You start to identify weak racers and Bumpers to chain KOs. You learn when you hang back and when to surge ahead, saving your boost for the all-out final lap melee. And, given that absolute mania of being repeatedly jostled by dozens of other machines, you're weighing up each aforementioned concept in response to the snap decisions of the racers around you.
Fold all of that into rock-solid netcode alongside a brilliant rival progression system and you're staring down one of the most potent "one more round" experiences in ages. I love F-Zero and I expected to enjoy 99. What I didn't expect was that I'd be entirely captivated by it.
I wouldn't call the other 35/99 games exceptional, their success feels, in part, closer to novelty than anything else. Tetris 99 is a brilliant concept, but there's a routine asynchronicity to the gameplay - everyone's boards set off independently, intertwining only only a predetermined moments. It's interesting, I had a great time with the game, and it laid a unique foundation.
But at a certain point, it, Mario 35, and Pac-Man 99 all circle a similar drain of simply overlaying competitive-lite elements and busy UI onto insulated, solo gameplay loops. By my later hours with Tetris 99, I was really fighting against myself and my own skill ceiling with the junk lines thrown by my opponents being something of a secondary concern.
F-Zero 99 could've been similarly designed with the Tetris 99 philosophy and UI, Grey Bumpers being thrown onto your track by opponents, the track narrowing with each successive lap.
But, it tries something else. F-Zero 99 is exceptional because it synchronously puts you in direct contact with 98 others on track. This is genuine chaos, a twitch bout of kinetic action and reaction as you fly around corners and burn your boost power, each collision on track chipping just a bit more away.
There is a brilliant synthesis of F-Zero's decades-long ethos of aggressive racing and the intrinsic competition of battle royale here. The concept is not only harmonious but the execution is fantastic. Merging mechanics from F-Zero (SNES) and F-Zero X with modern sensibilities, there is a sort of timeless feel to how the game has been crafted. Like NES Remix before it, F-Zero 99 feels out of time in best possible way.
It also feels remarkably complete for being entirely free-to-play. Solid progression systems, illustrated menus, multiple game modes (with more on the way) - in breadth the game well exceeds what I expected from a 99 title as well.
Most critically though, the depth of F-Zero 99 feels bottomless even after my fifteen hours of gameplay. You begin by floundering on track, trying just to finish races. But then you become taken by interlocking systems that don't begin to appear until you're able to just handle yourself and cross the finish line. You start to manage your Golden Sparks and employ strategic usage of the Skyway. You start to identify weak racers and Bumpers to chain KOs. You learn when you hang back and when to surge ahead, saving your boost for the all-out final lap melee. And, given that absolute mania of being repeatedly jostled by dozens of other machines, you're weighing up each aforementioned concept in response to the snap decisions of the racers around you.
Fold all of that into rock-solid netcode alongside a brilliant rival progression system and you're staring down one of the most potent "one more round" experiences in ages. I love F-Zero and I expected to enjoy 99. What I didn't expect was that I'd be entirely captivated by it.