So back when reviewing Aperture Desk Job for the steamdeck some people were surprised it was the first Valve game I had played. The thing is that I stopped PC gaming in the mid 90's and have always been a console gamer either through finances or where friends played but getting a steamdeck and joining steam's eco system really opened my eyes quite a bit. I even bought a gaming PC and have been venturing into it steadily. I still love my consoles and retro gaming but having more avenues to experience titles in different ways is never a bad thing.

With that in mind and the Aperture Desk Job link to Portal I figured I should finally play this well know piece of gaming history I have a blank on. Now I'm not really a puzzle gamer. I dabble in a few here and there but it's just not really to my tastes as I get impatient if that is all I am doing. Portal feels like it has a great balance of puzzles being both overly simple and challenging at the same time. I never felt I was breezing through but rarely felt stuck, at the minimum I could see what I needed to do even if occasionally pulling it off wasn't so easy.

Portal's gameplay is in it's very name. You create portals using a gun whilst going through test areas in the Aperture Science Enrichment Centre. Each area has different puzzles and sometimes multiple rooms to figure out to get to the elevator to the next area. It's a linear game and though your mechanics are limited to creating two portals that link and picking up boxes it's impressive how far Valve manages to inspire you to use them in different ways. Creating paths for energy balls to power up doors, getting into seemingly locked off rooms and my favourite, using multiple portals to get the velocity to launch yourself, or as GLaDOS your Aperture computer guide states:

"speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out"

Now if the game was just the puzzles I'd be a little luke warm about it being just kind of ok but the writing and voice acting do a lot of heavy lifting to pull Portal up to something more I feel. The only real voiced character is GLaDOS but her sarcasm, dry tone and implications as the game progresses are really witty and entertaining. Without her this would be a decent puzzle game but with her it's a great overall experience.

Glad I finally played it and have been dabbling with some of the extras like the advanced maps and challenges. The game is pretty short which to me is not a negative here. It's a game that knows not to wear out it's welcome while keeping things entertaining and I look forward to playing it's much lauded sequel sometime in the future.

Recommended.

+ Puzzles are balanced well.
+ GLaDOS is often hilarious and keeps the game from getting stale as you progress.
+ Just the right length.

Sat at the mouth of a serene underground river flowing far into the surrounding bioluminescent cave system, I aim my camera upwards towards a craggy volcanic plateau atop which two Wroggi sleep and a third keeps watch. I’m far enough away that the one watchful sentinel doesn’t see me slowly line up my shot and snap a few photos for research purposes — no need for the rule of thirds or precise framing here. One hour into my solo excursion and I finally feel like I have an idea of the topography here, the ways in which my companions and I can weave effortlessly in and out of the twisting and expansive natural tunnels in the heat of battle, and the places in which we can replenish our stock of items in a pinch. For the moment, at least, the area is calm. The sound of running water and the soft reptilian purr of sleeping Wroggi are only punctuated by the infrequent shifting and splashing of my canine companion in the river. When I return from my tranquil expedition I’m greeted joyfully by the denizens of the village, each with a request for materials that can be used to offer increasingly impressive services to myself and others.

Surrounded by three of my closest friends, things are not going according to plan. Magnamalo, a hulking tiger-like creature sporting purple-plated armor for skin, is making quick work of the four of us as its frenzied blows come faster than we can react. With every slow swing of our comically large weapons, the monster manages to dodge swiftly and retaliate with the swipe of its claws or purple hellfire from its jaws. Standing again at the mouth of an underground river beneath a craggy volcanic plateau, I shout to my companions that grappling upward and outward to heal our wounds and hope Magnamalo doesn’t follow is our best bet at survival — which is becoming more important than victory at this point. Before we zip into the sky, one brilliant mind among us takes the opportunity to throw a flash bomb at the beast, ensuring it won’t be able to see our escape plan as we clamber to safety. Atop the plateau, we eat steaks and drink health potions and sharpen our weapons and continue laughing the whole way through. Within the hour Magnamalo has fallen, and we all sign off until tomorrow’s hunts begin.

In my free time I find myself chatting with the residents scattered around the village of Kamura, taking care to learn more about them as people instead of as walking-talking vending machines. Yomogi, a young chef who runs the village tea shop, sees her constant menu expansion as an expression of artistry and the best way to serve her community. Iori spends his days surrounded by felynes and palamutes, and by using his unique gifts can help them grow in strength and resourcefulness. Both separately express to me their desire to do something more overtly cool, like becoming a monster hunter, but by utilizing and honing their talents they’re able to impact Kamura as much as, if not more than I ever could.

Monster Hunter has never been known for its story, despite the series’ multiple attempts to put narrative first. At best, entries have been innocuous to the point of forgettable, and at worst the franchise has a tendency to play into troubling colonialist attitudes dressed up with a fantastical albeit ignorant sheen. Rise though, more than any other entry, smartly focuses on the hub village itself as its emotional core. By endearing me to the place in which I find myself safe and at rest, I care more deeply when that safety is threatened by outside forces. I would never let anything bad happen to Yogomi or Iori or the many other faces of Kamura. For the first time in its seventeen years, Monster Hunter smartly centered every piece of its gameplay around the betterment of the community — both human players and NPC alike.

That focus bleeds into every decision and mechanic on the multiplayer end, where my time spent sitting at a table eating dango and talking with my friends can feel as fun as the hunts we’re ostensibly preparing for. In 2021, Monster Hunter Rise was my continued link to socialization in the ongoing pandemic-addled world. Just like Animal Crossing: New Horizons before it, Rise represented an on-ramp to the franchise for many of the people I hold dear. Although I always hoped Animal Crossing would realize its potential to catch on with mainstream audiences, I never imagined a world where Monster Hunter broke out of its “hardcore” shell. I recognize this wasn’t the norm in 2021 the way New Horizons was for just about everyone in 2020, but to see so many willingly toss themselves headlong into a title known for its complex mechanics and opaque design was a joy. As with most things, to be able to teach your friends how to play Monster Hunter is a dream come true.

But writing this in 2022, Kamura is less vibrant than it once was. Life in its natural state is a series of ebbs and flows, and the friends I once found myself surrounded by have since moved onto other adventures. Every once in a while, the most die-hard Monster Hunter fans among us will jump in for a hunt and a chat, but it’s nowhere near the nightly ritualistic experience we’d all briefly had at launch. Still though, I’m happy to knock out a hunt or two with my buddies when the timing is right. Every moment spent together, virtually or otherwise is a moment to be cherished. To spend so much time in a place as beautiful as Kamura is a privilege, and sharing that time with others is the best experience I had playing a video game in 2021.

Really fell in love with this one. Recently the genre has mostly manifested in this 90s style and a lot of them have suffered for it, but Homebody utilizes things like fixed cameras and a pursuer terror to deliver not only a compelling love letter to Clock Tower but a strong title all-together.

I won't go into long detail (I recommend going in blind) but the puzzles can be pretty tough, so consider this what I've always loving referred to as a "notebook game" like Myst or The Tartarus Key, but if you don't go in for puzzle journals, the game's memory log system does a great job of recording your progress and solutions for you.

First rule of Dragon Warrior: you always let the beat drop on the title screen.

The king, the legend. Not a perfect game by any means, but a game that shames many later entries. Sure, the grind is… well, there's a lot of it. This is cribbing off of Ultima's bones: the walk around, get stronger, push outwards, delve deeper style. Equipment is linear, thoughtless. Secrets are simple, but required. The story is non-existent: save the princess, beat the bad guy.

But there's something about it. Tentative forays over bridges followed by hasty retreats, diving into a dungeon and trying to map out the maze before coming up for air. Not knowing exactly where to go, talking to everyone, taking notes. It's all almost entirely nonlinear. The princess? You don't have to save her. Towns? Optional, but filled with critical clues. You can go everywhere but the final castle right from the start. Surviving there is another matter, but the option is there.

It's truly open world, even if the open world is primitive. The handholding is minimal, the risk is real, the satisfaction palpable. It's a relic now, an artifact from a time when JRPGs were much closer to their western CRPG cousins in style. The years would sand off the difficulty, add progression systems and flash, become more linear and bolstered by stories that lived more on paper than in the mind. Which is all good and well. Evolution is inevitable. Still, it's worth remembering what we lost in the process.

A solid point and click adventure game that later installments greatly improved upon, mechanically, visually, and structurally. It is just not as fun to play, for this reason.

However, the soundtrack is top notch from start to finish, and the characters first featured in this game that show up in later ones are generally at their most competent. In later games (and case 5, which was not part of this game originally), certain characters are reduced to jokes or pure unfunny stupidity, so it's always nice to see someone like the judge actually be an imposing figure for a little while.

A cute little VN, with sweet romance. Mostly a pleasant experience, but I felt bored at times -- particularly when the focus was on not the main couple of the route, but on side characters. At times, the writing gets repetitive or feels like it's trying to reach a word count quota. It wasn't especially for me, but it might be someone else's cup of tea.
I quite like the protagonist. Marcel felt to me like better non-binary rep than I've seen in some more explicit examples of non-binary characters. (Ey's also super adorable.) I appreciate how the love interests respond to this aspect of Marcel (especially Luce and Mirabel). The ending of Mirabel's route elicited more than a few tears from me...
I will say that Mirabel being bullied relentlessly by fellow classmates bothered me, and personally, I sometimes felt like the game didn't frame it seriously enough. Like the game wasn't being just toward that character, and that left a bad taste in my mouth.
There were a lot of really sweet CGs, especially of some of the more intimate moments between Marcel and the LIs.
My play order: Mirabel→ Luce→ Celine→ Claudine. (I don't think the order matters much.)
I think I liked Luce or Celine's route most, followed by Mirabel's and lastly Claudine's.

As I have made perfectly clear throughout past reviews, I absolutely love the Mega Man franchise, and I have considered it my absolute favorite video game series for a very long time. However… it wasn’t always my favorite series of video games. Before I had my undying love for the blue bomber, I had an undying love for the Kirby franchise as well, a love that I still hold onto to this very day. Ever since I first experienced Kirby Squeak Squad on the DS as a young lad, I have had nothing but pure adoration for this series, playing almost all of the games at this point, and having almost nothing but good things to say for every single one. To this day, I still consider Kirby to be my second favorite video game franchise of all time, right behind Mega Man, and I doubt anything could ever come along to change that. So, I figured for my 300th review on this website (jesus christ, I have wasted my life away), I figured I would finally give this series the love it deserves with its very first entry, Kirby’s Dream Land.

I don’t quite remember when exactly I first played this entry in the Kirby series, but I know for sure that it was after I played plenty of the later (and significantly better) games in the series, so going back to where it all began originally was kind of rough, especially with what had been established in later games. However, I was able to look past that for the most part, and judge it on its own merits, as well as how it works as the first in the series. So, as a whole, I think Kirby’s Dream Land is still a decent game, and a nice little introduction for this character into the world of video games. Sure, it does have its issues, and it doesn’t even come close to the quality of later titles in the series, but for what it does, it does its job well enough, and I still consider a fun little breather title.

The story is NOT about saving any specific individual, but instead saving all of the food for an entire world, so you know, I’d say that is probably a more important thing to fight for at the end of the day, the graphics are Game Boy graphics, but for as simple as the sprites are, they still look pretty good, having that distinct look you wouldn’t see from too many other titles at the time, the music holds up incredibly well to this day, even if later games would take these tracks and improve on them significantly, the control is simple and basic, but that is all that the game really needs, and the gameplay is quick, simple, and lacking any kind of complexity, but it still manages to be sufficient all the same.

The game is a simple 2D platformer, where you take control of the pink-living-blob monstrosity known as Kirby, go through several small, yet enjoyable levels, suck up and swallow or spit out any enemy that just so happens to walk in your path, gather plenty of health items, powerups, and extra lives along the way, and defeat a set of bosses filled with plenty of faces that will be recurring threats throughout the series. It is about as basic as basic gets when compared to other platformers at the time, with the only real differences to make the game stand out being the art style, characters, and Kirby’s main method of attack (which isn’t even original either). Despite how simplistic it is though, again, as the first game in the series, there is something charming about it, and it makes it memorable even after over 30 years.

That being said though, alluding to what I mentioned earlier, this game could be a little hard for new players or fans of the other Kirby games to get into it. Not because the game is bad or hard, but because of how basic it really is. This was back before the copy ability became a staple in the Kirby series, and while there are some powerups in this game that could be seen as precursors to copy abilities, such as with The Curry and the Mint Leaf, they pale in comparison to future copy abilities, and you can only use them for a limited amount of time. Now, that’s not to say that a Kirby game couldn’t work without copy abilities, because as shown with games like Kirby’s Epic Yarn and Kirby Mass Attack, you can make a fun and memorable Kirby game without them as long as you have another interesting gimmick to tie it all together, which the original game does not have. This all isn’t necessarily the game’s fault, but still, it is noteworthy for those who want to try it out at some point later.

Now, in terms of actual problems that this game has, there are few, but the few that are there are pretty noteworthy to mention. First of all, and most importantly of all, the game is REALLY FUCKING SHORT. Seriously, you can beat it in under 20 minutes, it is that short. I guess it is somewhat understandable, as it was made to be more accessible to new gamers, and it was a Game Boy title, but at the same time, you could’ve put in plenty of other levels and elements to try to make it last for at least an hour, not 20 or less minutes. Thankfully, there is somewhat of a remedy to that issue, as there is an Extra Game included, which is basically the same game again, except much more challenging, but that is just playing through the game again, with little to no new content. But hey, at least you get a Sound Test from it!........ one that is completely irrelevant, due to things like the internet, but hey…….. it is nice to have.

The second, shorter problem that I have with the game is that it has a boss rush on the last stage, and as you can imagine, it is the worst part of the game, even if it doesn’t take that long to get through. It’s not as if this is the only time a Kirby game would have a boss rush, but at least with future games, they were either delegated to a separate mode like with The Arena, or if they were included in the main game, they only used mini bosses for it rather then main ones. But here, you gotta fight all of the bosses once again, with no changes made to them whatsoever, and it just seems like padding for the sake of padding……. which would be more appreciated for this game, but not like this.

Overall, despite having some length issues and an unnecessary boss rush, Kirby’s Dream Land is still a small, sweet, and enjoyable game that anyone can pick up and enjoy to a degree, whether they are a bonafide Kirby fan or not. I would definitely recommend it for both Kirby fans or ones who wanna get into the series, as it is, appropriately, one of the best places to start. And thankfully, the quality of the games only goes up from here (for the most part). Also, nice to see that HAL Laboratory remembered Lolo and Lala exist with this game. You know, before they threw them back in their closet of dead mascots until the next time they wanna use them as a boss.

Game #300

After she had co-designed EcoQuest and King’s Quest VI at Sierra On-Line, Jane Jensen was encouraged by Roberta Williams to pitch her own adventure game series to Sierra. When she came up with Gabriel Knight, it was unlike anything the company or the genre at large had produced up to that point: a dark and mature supernatural mystery, with a huge focus on story, characters and dialogue. Jensen, a writer at heart, thought that this type of game would lend itself perfectly to the adventure game genre, unveiling a mystery by collecting and combining clues, talking to people etc. - and, as it turns out, she was right.

The game is divided into days that serve as chapters. A day ends when certain objectives have been achieved. Despite this structure Sins of the Fathers is a very non-linear game. You can visit many locations in and around New Orleans from Day 1 on, regardless if they’re important for the task at hand. This lets you explore at your own terms, making the city feel more alive and trusting the player to follow along the clues and the overall mystery, which is very satisfying.
The story is intriguing from the very beginning, with Gabriel’s nightmares mirroring the events of the past. His investigation slowly but surely uncovers more horrifying truths while the supernatural elements keep increasing, until he has to confront his family’s secret legacy. The game is not devoid of humour, though: Gabriel is a womanizing rogue that is kept in check by Grace, his assisstant, and her sarcastic replies. His and Detective Mosely’s banter is equally as delightful. The dialogue is brought to life by terrific actors: Tim Curry, Mark Hamill, Leah Remini, Michael Dorn, as well as Virginia Capers who acts as the narrator, which means she mostly describes objects the player investigates, often giving witty remarks in regards to Gabriel ("Gabriel’s mini-stereo isn’t exactly high-fidelity. Then again, neither is he."). You can devote much of your time listening to what the characters have to tell you outside of the necessary investigation stuff, talking about their backgrounds, interests or any topic of conversation you have unlocked so far.

The game oozes atmosphere with its beautifully drawn backgrounds that deliver a cold, dark, mysterious mood with lots of symbolism in either details or strong colour accents. Places like Grandma Knight’s house or Gabriel’s bookstore have the warmth they need while still adhering to the overall colour palette. The art really makes the gothic personality of the story come to life visually. The soundtrack was composed by Robert Holmes who was also the producer for the game. His music complements every scene perfectly - one of my personal favourite game soundtracks. Just listen to the tracks for the Voodoo Museum, Lake Pontchartrain, the Bayou, or the Main Theme.

Even though the art style is charming, the low resolution means a bit of pixel hunting. You may think you investigated an area fully - some pixels may disagree. This, combined with some complex puzzles, means the difficulty for the game is relatively high. The non-linearity also plays into that, but it’s never illogical. There is a focus on the puzzles containing actions the character would realistically do. Another part where the game shows its age is the point-and-click interface which is a bit awkward to use. You can change the cursor and the associated action - look, use, etc. - by right-clicking. This in itself is fine, but having eight different cursors makes switching them not as fluid as it could be. You can also choose the cursor from the extendable menu at the top of the screen, which is fine but again not as fluid as mechanics found in later adventure games. Of course, this being a Sierra game after all, deaths are to be expected and can occur in later parts of the game; so you better save regularly.

Except for these few age-related issues, the game is a great adventure to play even today. (And definitely better than the remake.) Presentation and game design are superb, with the story and characters as the game's heart and soul - a strength that would consistently define all of Jensen's following adventures.

Young Walter Mitty for Japan's jilted generation, a show hazily recalled but always produced. For the residents of Setagaya, it's a St. Vitus dance every end of the week, with too many interpretations to reconcile before the day-to-day grind begins anew. For us, there's a calm before the storm followed by the euphoria of living through a kind disaster, as mild as it is transformative. For the developers, all this presents a release from the simple, sorrowful nostalgia of their past games, a more cynical yet still passionate affair. For Level 5, it's another lauded product in their catalog, a shining example of what Nintendo's 3DS offered to players. For around five hours, this was an bewildering piece of fiction I couldn't get enough of, until somehow I did…and then it couldn't stop. For all of that, I'd feel like a fool to rate this any lower, both for its quality and for how much I esteem the life's work of its creator. Yet this appraisal yearns to be higher.

Consider lead developer Kaz Ayabe, who describes spending a chunk of his post-high school days listening to techno and IDM. Going to rave parties in the countryside, finding his inner caveman…all that energy, melancholy, and plenty of inaka nostalgia fed into what became the Boku no Natsuyasumi series. But where the Bokunatsu games revel in remembered childhood, free from all but the most sensible restrictions, Attack of the Friday Monsters deals directly with a modernity you can't escape, the waking dream of life under smoky layers. Our frame hero, Sohta, is stuck coming of age in a shared stupor, watching and acting through the post-war obsoletion of an imperfect arcadia. And we're brought along for the ride, encapsulated in one interminable day of discovery.

This project was developer Millennium Kitchen's chance to subvert their formula, to leave the proverbial family ramen stall and make a divebar izakaya of a game, both more childish and more adult. It wasn't ever going to be as glamorous or idyllic, but the old recipes and principles which sublimated Bokunatsu into such a masterwork all remain. I just wish Level-5's stipulations and some less well-considered design choices hadn't gotten in the way of this experiment.

Let's settle L5's role in the equation. Their Guild brand of 3DS-exclusive smaller titles—produced/developed together with studios like Nextech, Comcept, Vivarium, and Grasshopper Manufacture—was a smart way to jumpstart the system's paltry launch-window lineup. Why settle for Steel Diver, neat as it is, when cheaper, more immediate larks like Liberation Maiden or Aero Porter are available? Nor did this brand skimp on deeper experiences, like the Yasumi Matsuno-penned Crimson Shroud or the publisher's own Starship Damrey? Among this smorgasbord, Friday Monsters claims its spot as the most relatable, uncompromising adventure within the 3DS' early days. It hardly feels as lacking in meaningful hours of play as you'd expect from a 4-to-6-hour story.

As a Guild02 release, the final product had a similarly low budget and developer count, a budget take on what Ayabe's team and their partners @ Aquria were used to. I can't help but marvel at how they accomplished so much within these limits. While I appreciate L5's former willingness to bankroll and promote other creators' works with little intervention, they clearly signaled their partners to consider how few early adopters the platform had, and how their games should account for that. Finding that balance between "content" and artistic integrity must have been worth the challenge for Ayabe's team, and it leads to an excellent, ambitious yet rougher take on their usual slice-of-life toyboxes.

This makes itself very apparent in the interesting but tedious card collecting & battling system you use throughout Friday Monsters. I knew this was going to get awkward once I noticed the conspicuous lack of tutorializing for anything else in the whole game. Running around, talking to neighbors, and solving simple puzzles all explains itself, but the Monster Glim scavenging and combat rules needed explication. So that's one mark against the game loop's sense of immersion, even if, again, this kind of artifice isn't unusual throughout the experience. I've learned to distinguish the "good" kind of artifice—that which dissuades me from considering the story's events and interactions through realistic terms—and the other, more distracting kind which begs me to question its use or inclusion.

Card battling usually boils down to getting as many gems as you can find, combining cards of a set to increase their power, and then hoping your utterly random placement puts you on the losing end. Rounds come down to who makes the correct rock-paper-scissors predictions, or just has the larger numbers. This all ties into other themes of mutually understood but lightly lampooned adult rules and hierarchies that tie us down, but the player has to go through all this on Sohta's behalf, rather than just existing in plot and dialogue regardless.

Bokunatsu's game loop almost always manages to avoid this pitfall by having you engage in more obvious, more rewarding activities like bug-catching, environmental puzzles, or just managing the passage of time by moving between camera angles. Friday Monsters uses a less chronologically fixed premise, encouraging completion by removing time skips across screens in favor of a loose episodic structure. But even these are more like bookmarks to tracks and remind you of ongoing plot threads, while Ayabe & co. nudge players towards methodically circling the town during each beat. If the typical Bokunatsu day uses its style of progression to force a basic amount of player priority, then what Friday Monsters has instead emphasizes the periphery events and observations of the village's afternoon and evening.

All this comes back to the Guild series' need for back-of-box justification for spending your precious $8, something that Millennium Kitchen's other works aren't so concerned with. What I'm trying to say is that, more than any other Guild release, this one shouldn't have had to include a post-game, or any hinted insecurities about what's "missing". Extra stuff for its own sake is generally optional here, but incentivized by the narrator + promises of extra story which you neither need nor actually get much of in the end.

Much of the story's strengths and staying power comes from what it insinuates, with characters' routines and tribulations shown in enough depth yet elided when necessary to preserve dignity and mystery. After all, it's not just Sohta's tale, the aimless but excited wanderings of a kid trying to take his golden years at a slippery pace. Friday Monsters is just as much concerned with his parents, especially the downtrodden father who wants a courage to live he's never had. While the children only know TV, a story around every corner no matter how slight or recycled, the parents and post-teens stuck on Tokyo's recovering borderlands still remember the tragedies and romance of the cinema or puppet theater.

Sohta's mom and dad are struggling to keep their love and dedication as they enter middle age, denied the economic and cultural promises emblemized in classic Shochiku dramas. Megami and Akebi's dad now have to reconicle their own free time and hobbies with devoting their energy and resources to creating and supporting the tokusatsu shows that seem all too real for Tokyo's new youth, but no different from genre pictures by Toei or Toho. Emiko and her police officer father share an intimate Ozu-esque dialogue while a kaiju duel rages behind them, Setsuko Hara and Chishu Ryu's archetypes juxtaposed against superhero depictions of the country's calamities, environmental injustices, and looming specters of globalization. All of them could fit right onto the silver screen, if they weren't too wrapped up in their comfortable itineraries.

At least he kids are all right. School's always over when they wake up to play, and the simpler joys of learning their vernacular and playing absurd master-servant games never gets old. Two of the boys even reduce their identities to family professions, as Ramen and Billboard both exude their working-class roots in place of stodgy, less memorable formal names. It's precisely that contrast of Sohta & S-chan's mundane but precious growing up with all the frustrations of adulthood which drives not just the plot, but the dive into magical realism this game unleashes upon players.

One example is the protagonist's baffling ability to warp from a seemingly inescapable bad ending back into Ramen's family's diner. Context clues from talking with friends and acquaintances tell the player that Sohta had almost passed out, not remembering his feverish journey to the watering hole, but he doesn't recall nor care that much about it. Any grown-up would understand the gravity of the situation, yet our "hero" plays helpless ghost and witness to an imagination shared with his close circle. Dreams and willpower make any outcome possible on a dog day like this, be it becoming the new cosmic hero of your hometown or falling from Godzilla's claws back into reality. And if they don't even know how to overthink it (discounting A-Plus' genre savvy mumblings), why should we? There's always time later for crack theories about how our protagonist and the "6th cutest girl in class" represent Izanagi and Izanami, after all.

How about the big 'ol kaiju, then? They all look impressive, even if most are reduced to card illustrations. Only Frankasaurus and Cleaner Man get the big 3D showdown, but their wrestling and interactions with Setagaya and the surrounding wards are so damn effective I don't need to see the other giants in action. Nowhere better does Friday Monsters nail its sense of scale and romanticism, that contrast between you and the wider world around you waiting to be explored, than with its climactic fight. Again, it's likely these science fantasy events happening in front of us could be the result of a community's exposure to harmful pollution and chemical from nearby factories, causing hallucinations. But what we're shown could just as well be the real deal, a marvelous if frightening set of circumstances always repeating but rarely understood. This isn't your typical Friday Monsters, uh, Friday twilight—now the unready man of the house becomes an avatar of justice and moral fulfillment, playing Ultraman to Ayabe's hazily remembered Tokyo suburbia. We're not stuck in Sohta's story, nor in his dad's or anyone else's. There's an undercurrent of Japan's indigenous and regional mythology metamorphizing in response to foreign influences, with communal storytelling traditions used here to comment on the transition into the modern.

A great example of Friday Monsters' writing chops is this funny guy named Frank, a well-dressed European gentleman who looks waaaaaaay too much like the original Doctor Who. He's the broadest caricature in this story, an ambassador of weird Western invasion who's nonetheless become part of the community. What part he plays in it, though, remains up to interpretation. Ayaba presents possibilities as wide-ranging as Frank being Sohta's imaginary friend, born from playing with sausages in his bento box. Or he's an elaborate tarento personality working for the local TV station, an example of outside talent brought in from abroad or the local subculture. Maybe this William Hartnell look-a-like really is an alien, the spitting image of an English sophisticate intervening with local affairs for increasingly imperialistic reasons.

No matter what, this one character can go from a cute little sideshow to a narrative-warping anti-hero, stuck between the suspected real and the seductively imagined. That's a lot of adjectives to say this game's full of similarly compelling individuals, each of whom interact with others and the setting in unique ways. Nanafumi, angsty loner and bully in the making, runs the gamut from puzzle obstacle you must solve to a minor hero later in the story, as much a moral example as a person to acknowledge on his own merits. I can remember almost everyone's name here, and not because there's anyone I ever wanted to avoid talking to.

Maybe the story's biggest theme is the theatrical nature of modern life, from Meiji-era home businesses upon farmland to the unavoidable broadcasts and pageantries these families engage in. Friday Monsters indulges you in rituals, from small details like Sohta not wearing his shoes at home to the "ninjutsu" he and the other kids use on each other to show dominance. Pre-rendered 3D environs come to us through carefully chosen camera angles, often disobeying Hollywood's rules of visual progression for the sake of dramatic and thematic effect. Sightlines clue you in on the separation between rural and suburban Tokyo, as well as the pervasive eternal railway walling you off from the picket line and other harsh politics of this era. If anything, I wish there was just a bit more area to explore, or more to interact with on the scenic routes (something Bokunatsu balances well with its lack of urgency). But the game's visual splendor and lush audio design makes it so easy to stay in this world for longer than you'd expect.

Much longer indeed, as I found out when trying the post-game before eventually bouncing off to write this review. There's a simple reason why, as I'd hinted earlier: the "bonus story" of Friday Monsters is antithetical to the game's design and messages. Sure, it'd be nice to learn even more about these people and the weird stories defining them, but we've spent enough time in Sohta's community to know it's worth moving on from. Why crawl around to dig up the scraps when I could just play the core game again? It's like Ayabe & co. are nudging players towards the realization that completionism is a trap both in media and in our own lives, but L5 told them to develop this post-game anyway.

What we're left with is a slower, even more decompressed village to hang out in where Sohta semi-randomly switches conversation topics and more focus goes to card battling or snooping around for the final Monster Glims. This can be fun if played in short bursts, but definitely not as much as the few hours of well-paced, slow and steady social adventuring beforehand. And actually reaching 100% makes this game the kind of slog some of Bokunatsu's skeptics wrongly deem it. Diminishing returns is the last situation I expected here, and it almost sours an otherwise awe-inspiring experience. We even already had a clean opening and ending like you'd see in an anime or children's show from the time, cute theme song and all. Dragging this out threatens to cheapen all the player's just enjoyed.

Encompassing all the intricacies behind this game and its wider context is a battle between idealism and cynicism, with childhood nostalgia as the battleground. I'm unsure if this spinoff's any darker or lighter than the most rigorous Bokunatsu titles, but that almost decade-long gap between this and Millennium Kitchen's recent Shin-chan game stands out to me. After making four summer vacation games with more content, iteration, and repetition than the last, here comes a more constrained, more wanting variation on the genre. (Let's not forget Bokura no Kazoku, a promising inversion of this formula idealizing urban Japan.) Friday Monsters achieves so much immersion and introspection via its clash of ideas against labors, feeling like more than a set of tropes or binaries thrown into its confined space. Perhaps this was Ayabe's own journey to stretch outside the Bokunatsu comfort zone, even knowing he'd have to compromise with his publisher as he'd did with Sony and Contrail years prior. Embracing fantasy to this degree was more than a novelty that would appease Akihiro Hino and other higer-ups; it was the natural next step.

For me, it's just frustrating how close this gets to becoming the masterpiece it hints at. A telltale sign early on was seeing the fairly barebones, clunky UI which makes Bokunatsu's skeuomorphic menus look like fine art. I pressed on and enjoyed myself oh so much anyway, but I can only nod in agreement with Ayabe about the perils of funding these more niche adventures without leaning too far into conventions or market trends. What flaws and missed opportunities crop up here manage to highlight all that Friday Monsters succeeds with, though. Other reviewers have rightly pointed out the sheer charm, verisimilitude, and admirable qualities found all throughout, making it the most complete Guild series entry by some distance. You can't stay in this world forever, no matter how much you want to, but the fond memories of this suburban fantasy can last a lifetime. Here's a story that understands the impossibility of utopia yet lets us yearn for an exciting and sustainable social contract between kids, taller kids, and the processes and solidarity making it all possible.

Nintendo should get raked over the coals for letting media marvels like this fall into unavailability because they can't be bothered to spend chump change on server and network maintenance. Little stories like this are what inspire me to keep playing video games, no matter how much I think I've seen or what I might miss out on. That's most valuable of all.

Completed for the Backloggd Discord server’s Game of the Week club, Feb. 21 - 27, 2023

I honestly can't recall the last time I've seen Aladdin, maybe like a decade ago when it was randomly on TV. Since I'm more of an Anime girl nowadays, I rarely watch anything like movies like that. Though I know how popular and great this movie was for many and I respect that. I also have just never touched the games for it, not even the popular Mega Drive game. So why did I play the Super Famicom version done by Capcom? I don't know, just felt like it.

This is a platformer that put levels into multiple sections. It's nothing too complicated for the genre and sometimes that's fine as you can run, jump, and even throw apples to stun or kill some enemies. Jumping on enemies also has Aladdin vault off an enemy. He's actually quite athletic in this game being able to vault, swing on many things, and even grabbing ledges.

The level design isn't too much to brag about especially by 1993 but I would be lying if I didn't say it wasn't a lot of fun. You can really feel a lot of flow in this one that's to all the athletic movement Aladdin has letting the platforming flow really nice outside of like one auto scroll level. The game does try to change things up like having a carpet level but for the most part it's just platforming.

This does come at a cost of difficulty and length. The game is pretty easy as it not only gives you many chances to grab more health, health extends, and even a bonus stage if you grab a gold scarab. You even can find this sheet that can be used as a glider and you only lose it if you get a game over. The game also doesn't have too many stages which is a shame.

The bosses are surprisingly small amount. In fact, there's only like 3 and two of them are the final parts of the game. It's weird because you fight one in the first stage who is very simple might I add. I wonder if Capcom didn't have enough time to do more though I guess knowing the movie from the little I can remember of it, maybe it makes sense.

The game graphically looks nice though before I get people mad at me, yeah I know it's not as cool as the Mega Drive version but if you look at this without thinking of that game I think it does a good job. Though I don't like Aladdin's sprite. It just looks off to me. The music is good too, I'm not sure how much of it is from the movie but I really like the stage 1 and 2 themes.

This one was surprising to me, I really wasn't expecting to enjoy it too much but it's pretty good. It's not like top tier 16 bit game or anything but there's a lot here I enjoy. Wouldn't mind replaying this game someday. Good job Capcom, you did good. There's also a GBA version but I have no clue if that even added anything and I'm not really interested in trying it out. You might enjoy this game but you also might end up in disappointment. Regardless, it could have been much worse and I'm happy I had fun even if it was pretty short.