One of the reasons why Sony trounced the once indomitable Nintendo in the console wars from their first attempt is because the PlayStation did not alienate any prospective demographics. As dedicated to their seal of quality standard as Nintendo was and still is, they admittedly get slapped with the stigma of a kiddy company akin to Disney. Because the third dimension allowed video games to depict graphic violence beyond what pixels were ever capable of, Sony capitalized on this market for mature video games when Nintendo was forced to stick to their family-friendly brand. Between the outstanding success of new IPs aimed at adults like Resident Evil and Metal Gear Solid, however, Sony still had to drum up a few franchises that appealed to a younger audience because that vital demographic would’ve easily stuck with their Nintendo standby that offered that kind of accessible content in spades. Sony released a plethora of new age-appropriate IPs to cover their marketing blindspot, but it’s difficult to say if any of these charming, cartoonish characters ever served as their definitive mascot like Mario for Nintendo. Sony learned from Sega’s example not to bet all of their money on sending their finest soldier into battle with Nintendo, for Sonic stumbled and bled out contending with far more than just Mario in Nintendo’s battalion. Even though Sony wisely treated their library as a collective, the closest character that could technically constitute a mascot for the system was Crash Bandicoot: the first of the PlayStation’s properties that was cut from the same platformer cloth that Mario laid out. The Crash Bandicoot trilogy on Sony’s first home console is fondly remembered by the younger demographic of gamers at the time, so Sony must have succeeded in converting at least a sizable fraction of Nintendo’s child consumer base to their console. Still, similarly to Sonic, Crash Bandicoot alone couldn’t have sucked Nintendo dry and stolen the video game console industry for themselves because the first Crash Bandicoot exemplified the roughest qualities of the early 3D era.
Since Crash Bandicoot was devised as a direct competitor with Mario and Sonic, let us examine his mascot material as thoroughly as a judge at a dog show. Upon lifting up and inspecting Crash Bandicoot’s proverbial undercarriage, I find that he’s as exemplary of a mascot breed as his older, iconic adversaries. For those of you who are neither zoologists or are native to Australia, a bandicoot is not a fictional animal like an Ewok or a mogwai. A bandicoot is a real strand of marsupial located down under the equator, even if this particular one was created in a laboratory by a mad scientist. Hence, why Crash has an unnaturally orange skin complexion like a clementine. Bandicoots are also not known to stand upright wearing jeans or sneakers either, but any additional human trinkets applied to Crash’s anthropomorphism aid his mascot stature. Actually, if there is one credit to Crash’s effectiveness as a mascot, it’s that he seems far more human than the representatives for Nintendo and Sega. Obviously, Mario is technically the only human in this equation, but I mean human in the sense of player-character relatability. If Mario is the charming, cherubically whimsical tramp of Chaplin, Sonic the daring thrill-seeker of Keaton, Crash is the blue-collar, exceptionally unexceptional everyman of Harold Lloyd, the uniformly third-place contender among the three comedy legends of the silent film era. Essentially, Crash better embodies the awkward and infallible personhood of a human being. If the fact that Crash doesn’t wear a shirt in his would-be-snappy combination of clothes is any indication, he isn’t afraid of conducting himself in an undignified manner. Once an enemy slights Crash on the field, he dramatically commits to the role by spinning around and uttering his trademark, high-pitched “whoa!” like the fun uncle after being “shot” by their nieces and nephews with a toy gun. Whenever Crash is flattened, eaten, burned, or electrocuted, the humiliation of the death animations is far more lively and detailed than what the exalted Mario and Sonic would allow. Crash blowing himself to bits upon hitting a TNT barrel and seeing nothing but his shoes and eyeballs rain down from the wreckage always tickles me. The whacky, silly tone emanating from Crash Bandicoot’s protagonist and overall presentation will also remind players that Crash Bandicoot, unlike Mario and Sonic, is distinctly American. Santa Monica-based developer Naughty Dog most likely grew up with Warner Bros. iconic Looney Tunes properties and implemented their cartoonish hijinks into their creation to give it a Western flavor of childish lightheartedness. Also, Crash’s spin move where he flails his body like a cyclone is too similar to the idiosyncratic swirling vortex of another Australian animal of the Looney Tunes canon to be a coincidence.
Beyond the tonal influences and the strive to compete with the big boys representing other companies, Crash Bandicoot practically functions as a 3D adaptation of Donkey Kong Country. No, really, the similarities between Crash Bandicoot and Rare’s rendering of another one of Nintendo’s finest platformer series is so uncanny that I’m convinced that Sony sent an undercover spy to the Rare offices to gather information on the development of Donkey Kong 64’s beta testing. For starters, Crash gains extra lives by gathering a hundred of his favorite kinds of fruit, the fictional apple and tangerine hybrid “wumpa fruit” in this instance instead of bananas. Crash’s movement in the overworld map is strictly limited to the narrow trajectory paved for him after completing a level, and the entirety of Crash’s journey takes place across three separate islands. As Crash diverts further from the shores of N. Sanity Beach and the wild, unkempt jungles that surrounded it and the other areas situated on the starting island, the settings will progressively become more tailored towards resembling human civilization. Ancient ruins in the jungle catacombs are one thing, but the areas of the third island encompass the quasi-gothic architecture of Cortex’s laboratory castle at the same pace as when the first DKC gradually became industrialized. Crash even has a disturbingly buxom bandicoot girlfriend that could substitute for Pamela Anderson in a furry version of Baywatch. Unlike her DKC counterpart Candy Kong, she’s the typical damsel in distress instead of a supportive checkpoint aid. Crash Bandicoot is evidently more man than animal compared to Nintendo’s burly, tie-wearing ape, and would probably trade all the wumpa fruit in the world for another knock at Tawna’s boots.
If all of the contextual evidence here doesn’t blast Donkey Kong Country in your face like stepping on a rake, then you obviously have never even glanced at the series from a distance much less played it. Rare probably had to scrap the production of Donkey Kong 64 upon seeing Crash Bandicoot and were forced to reshape it as the collectathon 3D platformer that we all know and harbor mixed feelings towards. Besides Crash existing as another animal outside of the primate family, the game offers plenty of admirably distinctive attributes that keep Nintendo from imposing on the rightful grounds of suing Sony’s asses off. Health in Donkey Kong Country was displayed abstractly using either Donkey Kong or Diddy Kong as a meat shield depending on who was stationed in front, losing the line leader Kong as a penalty for taking damage until the player came across a barrel with the grazed Kong freshly intact. Crash doesn’t tag team with a buddy that shares an equal precedence in terms of gameplay, but a series secondary character still shows up to block the barrage of blows from enemies. When Crash cracks open a crate with the image of a mystical, yet strangely friendly-looking mask on it, the crude illustration comes to life and bursts out of its confinement to levitate above Crash’s shoulder. Aku-Aku, the trust-worthy witch doctor mask, will not only save Crash’s bacon if he mistakenly brushes up too close to an enemy without executing the proper offensive maneuvers but breaking open other crates with Aku-Aku still hovering overhead will stack the number of defensive capabilities. By the third chain of Aku-Aku collecting, Crash will wear Aku-Aku on his face and storm the level with a hyperdrive state of invulnerability for around twenty seconds. Aku-Aku’s implementation is admittedly a variation on a health system that DKC already established, but the gratification of earning the invincibility streak as a reward for skillfully dodging obstacles is something that DKC never provided. Ultimately, other instances of Crash Bandicoot’s innovation on its influences lie in its design in the third dimension. With this polygonal advancement, branching paths seen in “N. Sanity Beach” and “Cortex Power” are visibly defined and are more lucidly chosen by the player as opposed to Sonic’s wonky rollercoaster levels. There’s a reason why Crash sprinting away from a boulder in an homage to Raiders of the Lost Ark in “Boulder Dash” is the most indelible image associated with the series, for the perspective of the action running towards the screen as Crash anticipates where to jump and evade at the first reflex, is truly a milestone for the 3D platformer genre.
Another familiar reminder of DKC conjured up in Crash Bandicoot is the brutally swift and consistent difficulty curve. Throughout the game, the player will be wishing for the loud whistle blow of a referee to call in their favor for the same fatal, recurring errors that befall anyone who has played a DKC game. However, all the mismatched mistakes suffered in DKC occur even more frequently in Crash Bandicoot because of the injection of the third dimension into the gameplay. I’d be dead if I decided to make a drinking game revolving around how many times one of Crash’s jumps reverted him off to the side of a platform because of that extra spatial dimension. Euclidean range is not your friend in Crash Bandicoot, but the player is forced to work around it and press their luck because the levels seen from Crash’s side view are more commonplace than proper 3D levels where the camera is pointed at his backside. It doesn’t help matters that Crash seems to execute his jumps stiffly because of the controls, feeling as if his bones are brittle on top of lacking a sense of confidence in his platforming abilities. Which level in the game draws out the most fury and contempt from players? Is it the lack of friction in the rainy tower ascent of the aptly named “Slippery Climb?” Perhaps the endurance test of Sunset Vista, or the array of scorchingly hot pipes in “Heavy Machinery?” For my money, it’s the rickety, broken bridge of “The High Road” that tested my patience the most with the exacting precision found in the game. But really, the worst aspect of continual death in Crash Bandicoot is that the game’s method of accommodating it is equally persnickety. The only way to save the game and plant a firm checkpoint on one’s progress is to complete a minigame unlocked by collecting three tokens with a character’s face on them found in each level. The issue with this stipulation is that it isn't guaranteed that the player will succeed in getting to the end of these sections, especially since a narrow bar of steel boxes suspended in the air is the only ground Crash has to walk upon. If the player fails to meet this standard, exhausting every life will drop them all the way back to the beginning of the game. Making the player earn what should be a requisite feature through a challenge outside of the primary objective isn’t any less cruel than simply not offering any continues in the first place.
Again, the DKC connections grow starker regarding Crash Bandicoot’s boss battles. If there is any aspect to the first DKC game that is brazenly half-assed, it’s a collective of tepid and uninspired boss battles that should’ve served as mighty climaxes to their slew of levels preceding them. Conquering Crash Bandicoot’s baddies proves to be just as effortless, but I’d be hard-pressed to label them as uninspired. Occasionally situated between the platforming levels on the map are the boss encounters to alternate the pace of gameplay. Like all of Bugs Bunny’s opponents in his disproportionate battle of wits, Crash’s enemies are an eclectic batch of animals with distinguished personalities. There’s the portly tribesman Papu Papu, the vain, steroid-freak Koala Kong, Tommy Gun-toting, Al Capone wannabe Pinstripe Potoroo, and the straight jacket-detained Ripper Roo who is as insane in the membrane as B-Real after twenty hits from the bong. Of course, the personality of all these foes stems solely from their designs, as they never utter a word and will take maybe a minute to overcome. The scientific duo of Dr. Cortex and his assistant N. Brio does not pose much of a threat either, not even when N. Brio drinks a chemical concoction that turns him into The Hulk as a last-ditch effort to crush Crash. The bosses in Crash Bandicoot are at least memorable and varied unlike those from the first DKC game, but that bar is sunk to the fucking sea level.
In the extensive laundry list of comparisons to DKC, Crash Bandicoot also features a few secrets hidden under its sleeves that will unlock the full extent of its content. However, the way in which Crash Bandicoot conducts the methods of uncovering all of its extraneous rewards is entirely its own. I’m sure the player will come across a screen after completing a level that sees Crash being reprimanded for missing a number of boxes, pummeling him with the literal weight of his failures to the point of total humiliation. A supplementary completionist task that Crash Bandicoot presents is breaking every single crate in every level, rewarding Crash with a white gem instead of punishing him with a throttling. Diligently searching every hidden corner of a level is a trying escapade in of itself. Furthermore, a disheartening caveat to some of these completionist tasks is that Crash must destroy every crate and trek to the end of the level without dying. Not depleting at least five lives between the checkpoints in the later levels is hard enough. If the player manages to master Crash Bandicoot to its acme point, the player can engage with the vestibule before fighting Cortex called “The Great Hall.” Here, the fruits (or gems) of Crash’s meticulous labor will serve as platforms that will lead him to the true ending where Crash accomplishes his mission of saving Tawna as well as defeating Cortex, and Tawna shows her gratitude by grabbing up her half-pint boyfriend and planting a passionate smooch on his cheek. Unfortunately, the true ending does not reveal an additional phase to Cortex’s pitiful fight. Considering the herculean efforts needed to unlock something so miniscule, I’d rather save myself the trouble by telling Crash to forget about her and promise him that there are more fish in the sea.
Essentially, Crash Bandicoot is exactly what everyone’s preconceived expectations were for the platformer genre going forward into the third dimension. Crash Bandicoot technically doesn’t predate Super Mario 64 in terms of its international release, but Crash Bandicoot was obviously in development before Nintendo made the golden template for the 3D platformer generation. A loyal and literal translation of the 2D platformer seen in Crash Bandicoot still proves to be exhilarating, with moments of pure platforming brilliance intermingled in that will win over any Nintendo fanboy. However, what Nintendo foresaw for Super Mario 64 that Naughty Dog didn’t was the glaringly rudimentary buffs and scratches involved with the shift of a 2D genre, especially as early as the first year of the Playstation’s lifespan. This is why scrapping the linearity of a traditional 2D Mario game in favor of the open-level design newly granted to the plumber via 3D advancements proved to be far more accommodating for the dimension. Crash Bandicoot, an already grueling and difficult game, is pushed to the limits of sadistic injustice with how many deaths are due to the developer’s inexperience and naivete instead of the player’s genuine platforming skill. Still, one can’t help but be charmed by this goofy Frankenstein creation story filled to the brim with energy and character. With all its faults, Crash Bandicoot is still one of the more interesting of Mario’s (and Donkey Kong in this case) many disciples.
------
Attribution: https://erockreviews.blogspot.com
Since Crash Bandicoot was devised as a direct competitor with Mario and Sonic, let us examine his mascot material as thoroughly as a judge at a dog show. Upon lifting up and inspecting Crash Bandicoot’s proverbial undercarriage, I find that he’s as exemplary of a mascot breed as his older, iconic adversaries. For those of you who are neither zoologists or are native to Australia, a bandicoot is not a fictional animal like an Ewok or a mogwai. A bandicoot is a real strand of marsupial located down under the equator, even if this particular one was created in a laboratory by a mad scientist. Hence, why Crash has an unnaturally orange skin complexion like a clementine. Bandicoots are also not known to stand upright wearing jeans or sneakers either, but any additional human trinkets applied to Crash’s anthropomorphism aid his mascot stature. Actually, if there is one credit to Crash’s effectiveness as a mascot, it’s that he seems far more human than the representatives for Nintendo and Sega. Obviously, Mario is technically the only human in this equation, but I mean human in the sense of player-character relatability. If Mario is the charming, cherubically whimsical tramp of Chaplin, Sonic the daring thrill-seeker of Keaton, Crash is the blue-collar, exceptionally unexceptional everyman of Harold Lloyd, the uniformly third-place contender among the three comedy legends of the silent film era. Essentially, Crash better embodies the awkward and infallible personhood of a human being. If the fact that Crash doesn’t wear a shirt in his would-be-snappy combination of clothes is any indication, he isn’t afraid of conducting himself in an undignified manner. Once an enemy slights Crash on the field, he dramatically commits to the role by spinning around and uttering his trademark, high-pitched “whoa!” like the fun uncle after being “shot” by their nieces and nephews with a toy gun. Whenever Crash is flattened, eaten, burned, or electrocuted, the humiliation of the death animations is far more lively and detailed than what the exalted Mario and Sonic would allow. Crash blowing himself to bits upon hitting a TNT barrel and seeing nothing but his shoes and eyeballs rain down from the wreckage always tickles me. The whacky, silly tone emanating from Crash Bandicoot’s protagonist and overall presentation will also remind players that Crash Bandicoot, unlike Mario and Sonic, is distinctly American. Santa Monica-based developer Naughty Dog most likely grew up with Warner Bros. iconic Looney Tunes properties and implemented their cartoonish hijinks into their creation to give it a Western flavor of childish lightheartedness. Also, Crash’s spin move where he flails his body like a cyclone is too similar to the idiosyncratic swirling vortex of another Australian animal of the Looney Tunes canon to be a coincidence.
Beyond the tonal influences and the strive to compete with the big boys representing other companies, Crash Bandicoot practically functions as a 3D adaptation of Donkey Kong Country. No, really, the similarities between Crash Bandicoot and Rare’s rendering of another one of Nintendo’s finest platformer series is so uncanny that I’m convinced that Sony sent an undercover spy to the Rare offices to gather information on the development of Donkey Kong 64’s beta testing. For starters, Crash gains extra lives by gathering a hundred of his favorite kinds of fruit, the fictional apple and tangerine hybrid “wumpa fruit” in this instance instead of bananas. Crash’s movement in the overworld map is strictly limited to the narrow trajectory paved for him after completing a level, and the entirety of Crash’s journey takes place across three separate islands. As Crash diverts further from the shores of N. Sanity Beach and the wild, unkempt jungles that surrounded it and the other areas situated on the starting island, the settings will progressively become more tailored towards resembling human civilization. Ancient ruins in the jungle catacombs are one thing, but the areas of the third island encompass the quasi-gothic architecture of Cortex’s laboratory castle at the same pace as when the first DKC gradually became industrialized. Crash even has a disturbingly buxom bandicoot girlfriend that could substitute for Pamela Anderson in a furry version of Baywatch. Unlike her DKC counterpart Candy Kong, she’s the typical damsel in distress instead of a supportive checkpoint aid. Crash Bandicoot is evidently more man than animal compared to Nintendo’s burly, tie-wearing ape, and would probably trade all the wumpa fruit in the world for another knock at Tawna’s boots.
If all of the contextual evidence here doesn’t blast Donkey Kong Country in your face like stepping on a rake, then you obviously have never even glanced at the series from a distance much less played it. Rare probably had to scrap the production of Donkey Kong 64 upon seeing Crash Bandicoot and were forced to reshape it as the collectathon 3D platformer that we all know and harbor mixed feelings towards. Besides Crash existing as another animal outside of the primate family, the game offers plenty of admirably distinctive attributes that keep Nintendo from imposing on the rightful grounds of suing Sony’s asses off. Health in Donkey Kong Country was displayed abstractly using either Donkey Kong or Diddy Kong as a meat shield depending on who was stationed in front, losing the line leader Kong as a penalty for taking damage until the player came across a barrel with the grazed Kong freshly intact. Crash doesn’t tag team with a buddy that shares an equal precedence in terms of gameplay, but a series secondary character still shows up to block the barrage of blows from enemies. When Crash cracks open a crate with the image of a mystical, yet strangely friendly-looking mask on it, the crude illustration comes to life and bursts out of its confinement to levitate above Crash’s shoulder. Aku-Aku, the trust-worthy witch doctor mask, will not only save Crash’s bacon if he mistakenly brushes up too close to an enemy without executing the proper offensive maneuvers but breaking open other crates with Aku-Aku still hovering overhead will stack the number of defensive capabilities. By the third chain of Aku-Aku collecting, Crash will wear Aku-Aku on his face and storm the level with a hyperdrive state of invulnerability for around twenty seconds. Aku-Aku’s implementation is admittedly a variation on a health system that DKC already established, but the gratification of earning the invincibility streak as a reward for skillfully dodging obstacles is something that DKC never provided. Ultimately, other instances of Crash Bandicoot’s innovation on its influences lie in its design in the third dimension. With this polygonal advancement, branching paths seen in “N. Sanity Beach” and “Cortex Power” are visibly defined and are more lucidly chosen by the player as opposed to Sonic’s wonky rollercoaster levels. There’s a reason why Crash sprinting away from a boulder in an homage to Raiders of the Lost Ark in “Boulder Dash” is the most indelible image associated with the series, for the perspective of the action running towards the screen as Crash anticipates where to jump and evade at the first reflex, is truly a milestone for the 3D platformer genre.
Another familiar reminder of DKC conjured up in Crash Bandicoot is the brutally swift and consistent difficulty curve. Throughout the game, the player will be wishing for the loud whistle blow of a referee to call in their favor for the same fatal, recurring errors that befall anyone who has played a DKC game. However, all the mismatched mistakes suffered in DKC occur even more frequently in Crash Bandicoot because of the injection of the third dimension into the gameplay. I’d be dead if I decided to make a drinking game revolving around how many times one of Crash’s jumps reverted him off to the side of a platform because of that extra spatial dimension. Euclidean range is not your friend in Crash Bandicoot, but the player is forced to work around it and press their luck because the levels seen from Crash’s side view are more commonplace than proper 3D levels where the camera is pointed at his backside. It doesn’t help matters that Crash seems to execute his jumps stiffly because of the controls, feeling as if his bones are brittle on top of lacking a sense of confidence in his platforming abilities. Which level in the game draws out the most fury and contempt from players? Is it the lack of friction in the rainy tower ascent of the aptly named “Slippery Climb?” Perhaps the endurance test of Sunset Vista, or the array of scorchingly hot pipes in “Heavy Machinery?” For my money, it’s the rickety, broken bridge of “The High Road” that tested my patience the most with the exacting precision found in the game. But really, the worst aspect of continual death in Crash Bandicoot is that the game’s method of accommodating it is equally persnickety. The only way to save the game and plant a firm checkpoint on one’s progress is to complete a minigame unlocked by collecting three tokens with a character’s face on them found in each level. The issue with this stipulation is that it isn't guaranteed that the player will succeed in getting to the end of these sections, especially since a narrow bar of steel boxes suspended in the air is the only ground Crash has to walk upon. If the player fails to meet this standard, exhausting every life will drop them all the way back to the beginning of the game. Making the player earn what should be a requisite feature through a challenge outside of the primary objective isn’t any less cruel than simply not offering any continues in the first place.
Again, the DKC connections grow starker regarding Crash Bandicoot’s boss battles. If there is any aspect to the first DKC game that is brazenly half-assed, it’s a collective of tepid and uninspired boss battles that should’ve served as mighty climaxes to their slew of levels preceding them. Conquering Crash Bandicoot’s baddies proves to be just as effortless, but I’d be hard-pressed to label them as uninspired. Occasionally situated between the platforming levels on the map are the boss encounters to alternate the pace of gameplay. Like all of Bugs Bunny’s opponents in his disproportionate battle of wits, Crash’s enemies are an eclectic batch of animals with distinguished personalities. There’s the portly tribesman Papu Papu, the vain, steroid-freak Koala Kong, Tommy Gun-toting, Al Capone wannabe Pinstripe Potoroo, and the straight jacket-detained Ripper Roo who is as insane in the membrane as B-Real after twenty hits from the bong. Of course, the personality of all these foes stems solely from their designs, as they never utter a word and will take maybe a minute to overcome. The scientific duo of Dr. Cortex and his assistant N. Brio does not pose much of a threat either, not even when N. Brio drinks a chemical concoction that turns him into The Hulk as a last-ditch effort to crush Crash. The bosses in Crash Bandicoot are at least memorable and varied unlike those from the first DKC game, but that bar is sunk to the fucking sea level.
In the extensive laundry list of comparisons to DKC, Crash Bandicoot also features a few secrets hidden under its sleeves that will unlock the full extent of its content. However, the way in which Crash Bandicoot conducts the methods of uncovering all of its extraneous rewards is entirely its own. I’m sure the player will come across a screen after completing a level that sees Crash being reprimanded for missing a number of boxes, pummeling him with the literal weight of his failures to the point of total humiliation. A supplementary completionist task that Crash Bandicoot presents is breaking every single crate in every level, rewarding Crash with a white gem instead of punishing him with a throttling. Diligently searching every hidden corner of a level is a trying escapade in of itself. Furthermore, a disheartening caveat to some of these completionist tasks is that Crash must destroy every crate and trek to the end of the level without dying. Not depleting at least five lives between the checkpoints in the later levels is hard enough. If the player manages to master Crash Bandicoot to its acme point, the player can engage with the vestibule before fighting Cortex called “The Great Hall.” Here, the fruits (or gems) of Crash’s meticulous labor will serve as platforms that will lead him to the true ending where Crash accomplishes his mission of saving Tawna as well as defeating Cortex, and Tawna shows her gratitude by grabbing up her half-pint boyfriend and planting a passionate smooch on his cheek. Unfortunately, the true ending does not reveal an additional phase to Cortex’s pitiful fight. Considering the herculean efforts needed to unlock something so miniscule, I’d rather save myself the trouble by telling Crash to forget about her and promise him that there are more fish in the sea.
Essentially, Crash Bandicoot is exactly what everyone’s preconceived expectations were for the platformer genre going forward into the third dimension. Crash Bandicoot technically doesn’t predate Super Mario 64 in terms of its international release, but Crash Bandicoot was obviously in development before Nintendo made the golden template for the 3D platformer generation. A loyal and literal translation of the 2D platformer seen in Crash Bandicoot still proves to be exhilarating, with moments of pure platforming brilliance intermingled in that will win over any Nintendo fanboy. However, what Nintendo foresaw for Super Mario 64 that Naughty Dog didn’t was the glaringly rudimentary buffs and scratches involved with the shift of a 2D genre, especially as early as the first year of the Playstation’s lifespan. This is why scrapping the linearity of a traditional 2D Mario game in favor of the open-level design newly granted to the plumber via 3D advancements proved to be far more accommodating for the dimension. Crash Bandicoot, an already grueling and difficult game, is pushed to the limits of sadistic injustice with how many deaths are due to the developer’s inexperience and naivete instead of the player’s genuine platforming skill. Still, one can’t help but be charmed by this goofy Frankenstein creation story filled to the brim with energy and character. With all its faults, Crash Bandicoot is still one of the more interesting of Mario’s (and Donkey Kong in this case) many disciples.
------
Attribution: https://erockreviews.blogspot.com