JetSetSet
2003
Devil May Cry 2 is one of the most fascinating missteps I've ever seen. The only thing you ever hear about DMC2 is that it sucks, and it truly does, but the level at which DMC2 utterly butchers everything great about the original DMC1 makes the game feel like a fever dream. Even at the most fundamental level all of Dante's tools from the first game feel incredibly stiff and slow. There's simply no joy to any of his moves.
Somehow this isn't DMC2's biggest shortcoming. That would be the enemies. Sometimes I wonder if the foes in this game were even designed for a game where the player character has firearms, because most enemies don't seem to mind getting mowed down by a hail of gunfire from across the map. This is largely due to two factors. The first is that nearly all enemies lack any kind of a gap-closer. The second is that your guns stun lock most enemies regardless of what they're doing. This means the only challenge combat can give you is from the cheapest methods possible. Enemies attacking offscreen without proper sound cues is quite a popular one. Another is enemies hovering outside of melee range, and having lord-knows how much health. Every enemy encounter is either so trivially short that you'll forget it even happened a minute later, or so painfully drawn out that you'll legitimately start questioning your life choices. I honestly feel like calling the game boring is a massive understatement. I don't think mankind has invented a word strong enough to describe the amount of tedium DMC2 has to offer.
This alternate form of melatonin "only" lasts 4 hours if you're stupid enough to play both Dante and Lucia's campaigns(like me!), but you'll feel like you wasted an eternity on it. Even after all I've said, NOTHING will prepare you for how much of a slog DMC2 is. Most bad games offer some semblance of entertainment, even if it's from unintentional means, but DMC2 offers nothing but regret and absolute bewilderment that this franchise somehow continued after this joyless, aimless mess.
The game's style indicator says "Don't Worry" when you have a D rank, but you should. You really, really should.
Somehow this isn't DMC2's biggest shortcoming. That would be the enemies. Sometimes I wonder if the foes in this game were even designed for a game where the player character has firearms, because most enemies don't seem to mind getting mowed down by a hail of gunfire from across the map. This is largely due to two factors. The first is that nearly all enemies lack any kind of a gap-closer. The second is that your guns stun lock most enemies regardless of what they're doing. This means the only challenge combat can give you is from the cheapest methods possible. Enemies attacking offscreen without proper sound cues is quite a popular one. Another is enemies hovering outside of melee range, and having lord-knows how much health. Every enemy encounter is either so trivially short that you'll forget it even happened a minute later, or so painfully drawn out that you'll legitimately start questioning your life choices. I honestly feel like calling the game boring is a massive understatement. I don't think mankind has invented a word strong enough to describe the amount of tedium DMC2 has to offer.
This alternate form of melatonin "only" lasts 4 hours if you're stupid enough to play both Dante and Lucia's campaigns(like me!), but you'll feel like you wasted an eternity on it. Even after all I've said, NOTHING will prepare you for how much of a slog DMC2 is. Most bad games offer some semblance of entertainment, even if it's from unintentional means, but DMC2 offers nothing but regret and absolute bewilderment that this franchise somehow continued after this joyless, aimless mess.
The game's style indicator says "Don't Worry" when you have a D rank, but you should. You really, really should.
2000
Neversoft's Spider-Man is the perfect example of a game that gets by largely due to its charm. Mechanically, this is a very shallow action game with 5-ish different enemy types and levels that tend to last a mere minute long. I wasn't revisiting this game for the combat or puzzles. I revisited it because I love Spider-Man.
No other Spider-Man game feels like such a love letter to the franchise. Neversoft had already shown with the Tony Hawk Pro Skater games that they'll always share their adoration with a game's subject matter if they're given the chance and this is exactly what they did here. This game is like a time capsule of 90's Spider-Man, before the movies and ultimate comics would go on to inspire most future webhead stories. I don't mean that as a jab at the utterly spectacular Sam Raimi films or anything else that came after the turn of the millennium but the start of the 00's were also the start of a new era for Spider-Man. Neversoft's Spider-Man may have come out in 2000 but its development started in 1999 and the developers used that decade of Spider-Man media as a base for their game. I'm not talking about continuity as much as I am the general tone. Spider-Man 2000 is a very upbeat, fun game that only takes itself as seriously as it needs to in order for you to buy into it. Spidey is cracking bad one-liners left and right and his supervillain foes are just as deliciously cheesy as you'd hope. New York City, and maybe even Earth in its entirety are at stake, but we know going in that Spidey is going to thwart the bad guys and look cool while doing it. The game could totally pass as an episode from the beloved-but-dated 90's animated show and we'd be none the wiser.
Where the love of the source material is most prevalent is in the extra unlockables. This was the first Spidey game with unlockable costumes to earn and they range from the predictable symbiote suit to deeper cuts like the Captain Universe costume. Beyond these, there's collectible comic covers, small bios for each member of the game's cast, various Easter Eggs hidden about, and a secret "What If?" mode that changes various elements of the game. Spidey's journey lasts a couple hours max so replayability is heavily encouraged.
When it comes to licensed games, I think a clear love of the source material is just as important as making an actually engaging game. If I want to play a top shelf action game, I have loads of options not related to Spider-Man. Sure, it's ideal when you get a game like Spider-Man 2 or Marvel's Spider-Man, where the gameplay shines just as much as the characters and the world they inhabit, but neither of those games feel like passion projects in the same league that Neversoft's only outing with the webslinger does. I'm sure it's partially nostalgia, but there's a level of scrappiness found in an older, smaller scale game like this than later efforts and that makes the love put into it shine even brighter.
No other Spider-Man game feels like such a love letter to the franchise. Neversoft had already shown with the Tony Hawk Pro Skater games that they'll always share their adoration with a game's subject matter if they're given the chance and this is exactly what they did here. This game is like a time capsule of 90's Spider-Man, before the movies and ultimate comics would go on to inspire most future webhead stories. I don't mean that as a jab at the utterly spectacular Sam Raimi films or anything else that came after the turn of the millennium but the start of the 00's were also the start of a new era for Spider-Man. Neversoft's Spider-Man may have come out in 2000 but its development started in 1999 and the developers used that decade of Spider-Man media as a base for their game. I'm not talking about continuity as much as I am the general tone. Spider-Man 2000 is a very upbeat, fun game that only takes itself as seriously as it needs to in order for you to buy into it. Spidey is cracking bad one-liners left and right and his supervillain foes are just as deliciously cheesy as you'd hope. New York City, and maybe even Earth in its entirety are at stake, but we know going in that Spidey is going to thwart the bad guys and look cool while doing it. The game could totally pass as an episode from the beloved-but-dated 90's animated show and we'd be none the wiser.
Where the love of the source material is most prevalent is in the extra unlockables. This was the first Spidey game with unlockable costumes to earn and they range from the predictable symbiote suit to deeper cuts like the Captain Universe costume. Beyond these, there's collectible comic covers, small bios for each member of the game's cast, various Easter Eggs hidden about, and a secret "What If?" mode that changes various elements of the game. Spidey's journey lasts a couple hours max so replayability is heavily encouraged.
When it comes to licensed games, I think a clear love of the source material is just as important as making an actually engaging game. If I want to play a top shelf action game, I have loads of options not related to Spider-Man. Sure, it's ideal when you get a game like Spider-Man 2 or Marvel's Spider-Man, where the gameplay shines just as much as the characters and the world they inhabit, but neither of those games feel like passion projects in the same league that Neversoft's only outing with the webslinger does. I'm sure it's partially nostalgia, but there's a level of scrappiness found in an older, smaller scale game like this than later efforts and that makes the love put into it shine even brighter.
2002
Imagine your nearly 20 year-old, 10+ game-filled franchise peaking with the very first entry. That's Ratchet & Clank. Whether you agree or not will likely depend on what you value more; original games with strong visions, or iterative sequels that refine what came before. I'm sure you can guess where I fall.
The franchise's claim to fame is the massive arsenals you obtain in each installment. It's what's advertised in the commercials, on the game's cover, and no reviewer ever fails to mention all the cool shooty-shooty-bang-bang stuff you can do. So you might be a bit surprised that a lot of the weapons in the first R&C are largely situational and aren't meant to be fired rapidly. A double-edged sword with every Ratchet game past the first one is how destructive each individual weapon is. It's as if the designers at Insomniac were competing with each other to develop the most outlandish, overpowered guns they could. While there's an undeniable fun to just blasting away foes with your deliciously violent weapons, most weapons start to blend together. Sure, some weapons might be a bit better at crowd control, firing speed, or long-distance targeting, but most of your guns are still equipped to deal with whatever the game throws at you. Every weapon ends up playing the jack-of-all-trades role with only a hint of individuality. I can only get so excited for a gun that shoots razor blades all over the place when I have 5 other guns that deal with groups of enemies just as efficiently.
This is where the first R&C stands out. While some guns might seem a bit dubious at a glance, it turns out that every death machine has a purpose. Few are capable of outright solving all your issues so you can't rely on the same old favorites over and over. With checkpoints being so painfully infrequent and your health so limited, you need to assess each fight in a way you never do in later titles. The level of deliberation required by the player is how I learned that the Taunter can help you single out enemies and lure them into traps. It's how I learned the Walloper gives you massive priority over your enemies' melee attacks, completely trivializing certain close encounters. It's unfortunate that a couple of the late game weapons do end up becoming overly useful against just about every kind of enemy but I'd say there's a good balance for roughly 3 quarters of the adventure's length.
What I find most peculiar about how the weapons are handled is how they tie into the game's strong anti-capitalist message. It's hardly subtle but nearly every NPC asks for money before offering any sort of assistance and that goes doubly so for the weapons merchant. Guns are super expensive and the economy seems to be in a bit of a recession since you acquire bolts (game's currency) at a tepid pace throughout. For a game where weapons are so specialized and experimentation is required in order to make the most of your kit, this seems like a way to make sure players don't buy a weapon and then immediately write it off when you don't find an easy use for it. What will likely happen is the player will just reload their last save prior to buying the weapon they assume is bad. Still, I have to give Insomniac props for using the game's economy to add some extra character to the worldbuilding. It's an aspect of the series that has infamously disappeared ever since Insomniac, ironically, got a bit greedy with where they set their sights for this franchise of theirs.
It all comes back to how every new entry needs to be a sterile, wanna-be-DreamWorks-narrative and lack anything interesting to say about its world. No longer can the shooting require actual thought. Even the music was only allowed to have an identity within the first game. For as "playable" and "pleasant" as many later entries are, the first Ratchet & Clank still has them beat because it doesn't just feel like a thinly veiled vehicle for shoveling out the same few ideas ad nauseam but with "better graphics". Long running franchises can exist and even lead to loads of excellent, exceptional games, but when the best you're shooting for is "like the original, but without the soul" you start to lose me.
The franchise's claim to fame is the massive arsenals you obtain in each installment. It's what's advertised in the commercials, on the game's cover, and no reviewer ever fails to mention all the cool shooty-shooty-bang-bang stuff you can do. So you might be a bit surprised that a lot of the weapons in the first R&C are largely situational and aren't meant to be fired rapidly. A double-edged sword with every Ratchet game past the first one is how destructive each individual weapon is. It's as if the designers at Insomniac were competing with each other to develop the most outlandish, overpowered guns they could. While there's an undeniable fun to just blasting away foes with your deliciously violent weapons, most weapons start to blend together. Sure, some weapons might be a bit better at crowd control, firing speed, or long-distance targeting, but most of your guns are still equipped to deal with whatever the game throws at you. Every weapon ends up playing the jack-of-all-trades role with only a hint of individuality. I can only get so excited for a gun that shoots razor blades all over the place when I have 5 other guns that deal with groups of enemies just as efficiently.
This is where the first R&C stands out. While some guns might seem a bit dubious at a glance, it turns out that every death machine has a purpose. Few are capable of outright solving all your issues so you can't rely on the same old favorites over and over. With checkpoints being so painfully infrequent and your health so limited, you need to assess each fight in a way you never do in later titles. The level of deliberation required by the player is how I learned that the Taunter can help you single out enemies and lure them into traps. It's how I learned the Walloper gives you massive priority over your enemies' melee attacks, completely trivializing certain close encounters. It's unfortunate that a couple of the late game weapons do end up becoming overly useful against just about every kind of enemy but I'd say there's a good balance for roughly 3 quarters of the adventure's length.
What I find most peculiar about how the weapons are handled is how they tie into the game's strong anti-capitalist message. It's hardly subtle but nearly every NPC asks for money before offering any sort of assistance and that goes doubly so for the weapons merchant. Guns are super expensive and the economy seems to be in a bit of a recession since you acquire bolts (game's currency) at a tepid pace throughout. For a game where weapons are so specialized and experimentation is required in order to make the most of your kit, this seems like a way to make sure players don't buy a weapon and then immediately write it off when you don't find an easy use for it. What will likely happen is the player will just reload their last save prior to buying the weapon they assume is bad. Still, I have to give Insomniac props for using the game's economy to add some extra character to the worldbuilding. It's an aspect of the series that has infamously disappeared ever since Insomniac, ironically, got a bit greedy with where they set their sights for this franchise of theirs.
It all comes back to how every new entry needs to be a sterile, wanna-be-DreamWorks-narrative and lack anything interesting to say about its world. No longer can the shooting require actual thought. Even the music was only allowed to have an identity within the first game. For as "playable" and "pleasant" as many later entries are, the first Ratchet & Clank still has them beat because it doesn't just feel like a thinly veiled vehicle for shoveling out the same few ideas ad nauseam but with "better graphics". Long running franchises can exist and even lead to loads of excellent, exceptional games, but when the best you're shooting for is "like the original, but without the soul" you start to lose me.
2001
This is probably still my favorite game in the franchise. Might sound strange to some since the game's combat is a lot more limited when compared to later entries but that's part of why I love it. Every move in Dante's arsenal is worth using at some point or another and I do mean EVERY move. Charging Ebony and Ivory with DT to increase your style against Griffon. Locking Nobodies in place with Round Trip. Shotgun cancelling Bloody Maries. Vortexing Phantom to death during the chase scenes. Every move I ever doubted on my first playthrough back in 2012 have proven me wrong and become staples in my moveset in the years since. While it's an absolute blast experimenting with Dante's expanded kits in later titles, it's just as rewarding finding new uses for moves you once thought had been depleted of all their worth.
A big contributing factor to all this is the stellar boss lineup. I don't know how Hideki Kamiya and his team did it, but Team Little Devils created one of the best rogues galleries in an action game all the way back in 2001. This game's roster of baddies will test you, and I mean fucking TEST you on all of your defensive options as well as your offensive ones. Even enemy attacks that you once thought you mastered your way around will turn out to have an even more efficient way of dealing with them as your skill and understanding of the mechanics increase. You're always learning new things against these foes and that goes doubly so for the bosses. Phantom, Griffon, Nero Angelo, even the dreaded Nightmare (ESPECIALLY Nightmare) all offer many lessons you'll take to heart. Some of these are exclusive for their respective fights, like learning how Nightmare's cores work. Others are multi-purpose, like figuring out double jumping before striking down on Phantom from above deals more damage. The game even uses its Secret Missions to teach some of these techniques and it does so with more elegance than the missions in later DMC games.
To top my love for this game off, I want to give a special mention to this game's wonderfully eerie atmosphere. Something later DMC games lost. Mundus' castle feels like a place lost to time. The world feels alive, not in a "Oh wow, there's so many moving objects and blah blah blah" sort of way but more in a "The castle is a liminal space that's trying to swallow you whole" kind of way. The early levels have music that sounds like the dead are having a ballroom dance in an adjacent room while later stages have music that feels utterly oppressive, like you pissed off the castle itself and now it's trapped you within its walls. I really wish the franchise would return to this kind of horror instead of the dull, lifeless environments found in later installments.
Then again, it's not so surprising DMC1 would have these horror elements, along with more focused gameplay. The title was going to be Resident Evil 4 at one point in development and it seems a bit of that classic RE game flavor found its way into the final product. When taking that factoid into account, it's a miracle DMC1 is not only a game so fantastic that it kickstarted a brand new franchise, but one to make such a strong impact on the future of high quality action games.
Devil May Cry's a rocking don't come a knocking baby, yeah!
A big contributing factor to all this is the stellar boss lineup. I don't know how Hideki Kamiya and his team did it, but Team Little Devils created one of the best rogues galleries in an action game all the way back in 2001. This game's roster of baddies will test you, and I mean fucking TEST you on all of your defensive options as well as your offensive ones. Even enemy attacks that you once thought you mastered your way around will turn out to have an even more efficient way of dealing with them as your skill and understanding of the mechanics increase. You're always learning new things against these foes and that goes doubly so for the bosses. Phantom, Griffon, Nero Angelo, even the dreaded Nightmare (ESPECIALLY Nightmare) all offer many lessons you'll take to heart. Some of these are exclusive for their respective fights, like learning how Nightmare's cores work. Others are multi-purpose, like figuring out double jumping before striking down on Phantom from above deals more damage. The game even uses its Secret Missions to teach some of these techniques and it does so with more elegance than the missions in later DMC games.
To top my love for this game off, I want to give a special mention to this game's wonderfully eerie atmosphere. Something later DMC games lost. Mundus' castle feels like a place lost to time. The world feels alive, not in a "Oh wow, there's so many moving objects and blah blah blah" sort of way but more in a "The castle is a liminal space that's trying to swallow you whole" kind of way. The early levels have music that sounds like the dead are having a ballroom dance in an adjacent room while later stages have music that feels utterly oppressive, like you pissed off the castle itself and now it's trapped you within its walls. I really wish the franchise would return to this kind of horror instead of the dull, lifeless environments found in later installments.
Then again, it's not so surprising DMC1 would have these horror elements, along with more focused gameplay. The title was going to be Resident Evil 4 at one point in development and it seems a bit of that classic RE game flavor found its way into the final product. When taking that factoid into account, it's a miracle DMC1 is not only a game so fantastic that it kickstarted a brand new franchise, but one to make such a strong impact on the future of high quality action games.
Devil May Cry's a rocking don't come a knocking baby, yeah!
1990
Writing a semi-negative review of Super Mario World is something I feel a little bad about. This is Super MARIO World. Anyone even vaguely interested in videogames has been told time and time again that this is not only one of Mario's best outings, but one of the best 2D platformers ever made. While the blind loyalty for 8-bit games has mostly gone away this past decade, the classics of the 16-bit generation are still largely untouchable. I guess I'm part of that problem. You'll never see me miss an opportunity to talk about how much I adore games like Sonic 3 & Knuckles, Ristar, Kirby Super Star, and Donkey Kong Country 2.
Super Mario World, though? It's okay, I guess.
My biggest criticism lies with the level design. Nowadays, Nintendo's platformers are well known for following a pretty predictable philosophy:
1. Introduce a unique mechanic/obstacle for the level
2. Reiterate on introduced mechanic/obstacle
3. Put a "surprising" twist on the mechanic/obstacle
4. Make one final gauntlet to test the player on what they've learned
This format is repeated throughout most stages in modern Nintendo titles and while it can lead to levels being a bit too similar and "design by committee", it became a staple of their games for a reason. It's a really effective way of teaching new elements to players while giving the designers a chance to fully flesh out a mechanic and tell a mini story of sorts within a single level.
Super Mario World does not follow this template. If anything, it does the exact opposite. It genuinely feels like many elements were added to levels at random. So many levels lack any strong identity and are a seemingly aimless mess of enemies and obstacles. Ideas can be introduced early in a level and then go completely unused for the rest of it. Some obstacles only appear once in the entire game despite being prime material to expand upon. This might be something longtime fans have become desensitized to but as someone that has only played through World a handful of times, it's never stopped weirding me out. Rarely do I feel any sort of flow within these stages and the less said about the amount of auto scrollers and slow swimming levels, the better.
Another issue with the level design is how the game is structured in a way that defeats its own rewards system. You are constantly showered with 1-ups, making them feel worthless only a couple worlds in. Even if they came in lesser numbers, they'd still be rather pointless due to the generous save system. Don't get me wrong, I'm not upset that SMW allows me to save my game, but it and the 1-up system don't mix well, though this is hardly a problem unique to World. A problem that's persisted with nearly every 2D Mario game is how power-ups aren't a good reward for exploration either. SMW doesn't punish you for revisiting levels to reacquire power-ups and there's even a "super secret" level early on in the game that is literally one screen long and gives you a Yoshi, a Fire Flower, and a Cape, and YOU CAN REVISIT THIS LEVEL AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT! It's such a self-defeating secret because it invalidates the need to look for items elsewhere. It's not like most of World's levels have much in the way of alternate paths or hidden sections anyways. Compared to something like Sonic 2, World does a terrible job at encouraging you to look around its frequently vacant-feeling levels.
Maybe the less coherent level design wouldn't be such an issue for me if the game made up for it in other areas. For example, Sonic CD has messy level design with no sense of flow to it but the game is at least backed by stellar controls and superb aesthetics. Sadly, the controls don't do much for me. Outside of the cape, which is an excellent Mario power-up that's fun to master, Mario's basic moves are pretty one note and I've never been a fan of his insane level of inertia in World. In most platformers I can either slowly let go of the d-pad to stop my character's momentum or hold the opposite direction for a similar result. With World, Mario keeps his inertia in the air even if you let go of the d-pad. To make matters worse, he'll retain most of his inertia if you hold the d-pad in the opposite direction. Actually getting Mario to land on small blocks is far more stressful here than in SMB1 or the New Super Mario Bros games. I never feel confident in my landing skills when playing World, which is a pretty big issue for a platformer. That said, since so many people don't seem to have this problem I can only assume this is mostly a problem specific to me and a very small percent of other players.
One last area I think World fumbles is with its art direction. For being an SNES launch game, I would never expect World to have the technical prowess later games on the system exuded, but the big issue is that SMW feels painfully sterile. I'm sure if you have a deep nostalgic attachment to this game you might find many of its environments to be iconic but as someone whos first Mario was Super Mario 64 (and first 2D Mario game was Super Mario Land 2), I don't feel anything upon seeing these levels. The muted color palette (especially compared to the previously released SMB3) and lack of detail does little to sell me on Dinosaur Island as anything more than a wahoo-scrimblo-bimblo level. The soundtrack fares a lot better but there aren't many tracks in total so the main theme of the game gets a bit tiresome towards the end.
Honestly, I'm not sure how to even end this review besides being a pretentious ass and saying SMW reminds me of many Disney movies during their renaissance era. It's a game that's perfectly competent on the whole but is elevated to unreachable heights due to the prestige behind the Nintendo brand at the time. I'm not saying anyone is wrong for loving Mario World, but I'm curious as to what their other favorite games from that generation are.
Super Mario World, though? It's okay, I guess.
My biggest criticism lies with the level design. Nowadays, Nintendo's platformers are well known for following a pretty predictable philosophy:
1. Introduce a unique mechanic/obstacle for the level
2. Reiterate on introduced mechanic/obstacle
3. Put a "surprising" twist on the mechanic/obstacle
4. Make one final gauntlet to test the player on what they've learned
This format is repeated throughout most stages in modern Nintendo titles and while it can lead to levels being a bit too similar and "design by committee", it became a staple of their games for a reason. It's a really effective way of teaching new elements to players while giving the designers a chance to fully flesh out a mechanic and tell a mini story of sorts within a single level.
Super Mario World does not follow this template. If anything, it does the exact opposite. It genuinely feels like many elements were added to levels at random. So many levels lack any strong identity and are a seemingly aimless mess of enemies and obstacles. Ideas can be introduced early in a level and then go completely unused for the rest of it. Some obstacles only appear once in the entire game despite being prime material to expand upon. This might be something longtime fans have become desensitized to but as someone that has only played through World a handful of times, it's never stopped weirding me out. Rarely do I feel any sort of flow within these stages and the less said about the amount of auto scrollers and slow swimming levels, the better.
Another issue with the level design is how the game is structured in a way that defeats its own rewards system. You are constantly showered with 1-ups, making them feel worthless only a couple worlds in. Even if they came in lesser numbers, they'd still be rather pointless due to the generous save system. Don't get me wrong, I'm not upset that SMW allows me to save my game, but it and the 1-up system don't mix well, though this is hardly a problem unique to World. A problem that's persisted with nearly every 2D Mario game is how power-ups aren't a good reward for exploration either. SMW doesn't punish you for revisiting levels to reacquire power-ups and there's even a "super secret" level early on in the game that is literally one screen long and gives you a Yoshi, a Fire Flower, and a Cape, and YOU CAN REVISIT THIS LEVEL AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT! It's such a self-defeating secret because it invalidates the need to look for items elsewhere. It's not like most of World's levels have much in the way of alternate paths or hidden sections anyways. Compared to something like Sonic 2, World does a terrible job at encouraging you to look around its frequently vacant-feeling levels.
Maybe the less coherent level design wouldn't be such an issue for me if the game made up for it in other areas. For example, Sonic CD has messy level design with no sense of flow to it but the game is at least backed by stellar controls and superb aesthetics. Sadly, the controls don't do much for me. Outside of the cape, which is an excellent Mario power-up that's fun to master, Mario's basic moves are pretty one note and I've never been a fan of his insane level of inertia in World. In most platformers I can either slowly let go of the d-pad to stop my character's momentum or hold the opposite direction for a similar result. With World, Mario keeps his inertia in the air even if you let go of the d-pad. To make matters worse, he'll retain most of his inertia if you hold the d-pad in the opposite direction. Actually getting Mario to land on small blocks is far more stressful here than in SMB1 or the New Super Mario Bros games. I never feel confident in my landing skills when playing World, which is a pretty big issue for a platformer. That said, since so many people don't seem to have this problem I can only assume this is mostly a problem specific to me and a very small percent of other players.
One last area I think World fumbles is with its art direction. For being an SNES launch game, I would never expect World to have the technical prowess later games on the system exuded, but the big issue is that SMW feels painfully sterile. I'm sure if you have a deep nostalgic attachment to this game you might find many of its environments to be iconic but as someone whos first Mario was Super Mario 64 (and first 2D Mario game was Super Mario Land 2), I don't feel anything upon seeing these levels. The muted color palette (especially compared to the previously released SMB3) and lack of detail does little to sell me on Dinosaur Island as anything more than a wahoo-scrimblo-bimblo level. The soundtrack fares a lot better but there aren't many tracks in total so the main theme of the game gets a bit tiresome towards the end.
Honestly, I'm not sure how to even end this review besides being a pretentious ass and saying SMW reminds me of many Disney movies during their renaissance era. It's a game that's perfectly competent on the whole but is elevated to unreachable heights due to the prestige behind the Nintendo brand at the time. I'm not saying anyone is wrong for loving Mario World, but I'm curious as to what their other favorite games from that generation are.
2006
2006 wasn't a good year for me. Being on the autism spectrum, middle school was especially tough to adjust to. Everyone else was growing up around me, getting into more mature-rated games and talking about subject matter I wouldn't understand until much later. I was in 8th grade and had accepted that I wasn't going to fit in. I tried my best to hide my autism throughout 6th and 7th grade but everyone knew by then. Getting bullied and being sent to the principal's office because I wasn't paying attention in class was the norm. At this point in my life there was little for me to look forward to.
But as much as I wanted to give up, as much as I dreaded each day, I had to keep going. I had to.
Because Sonic The Hedgehog for the Xbox 360 was coming out soon.
I'm not saying Sonic The Hedgehog 2006 alone helped push me forward, or that I would have actually ended my life, but I was at a point where I desperately needed some joy and Sonic 06 was the next big thing to look forward to. Sonic 06 was THE reason I got an Xbox 360 and I loved it. As far as I was concerned, this was the biggest, most epic game I had played. A true showcase for what this new generation of consoles were capable of. It's not like I didn't notice the glitches, the long load times, or some of the more laughable aspects of its story. But all that stuff didn't matter to 14-year-old me. I beat all four stories, did all town missions, got all S ranks, and nabbed all of the achievements. Over the years, I've probably spent well over a few hundred hours playing this game. Admittedly, it's not a title I've gone back to much for well over a decade but there was a period where it might have been in my top 10 most played games of all time.
For most, Sonic 06 is seen as an appallingly unfinished train wreck of the highest caliber. Within that group however comes two wildly different opinions. Some have deemed the game unsalvageable and doomed to fail even if it had all the extra dev time in the world. The other opinion is that Sonic 06 could have been something truly special if given the extra time needed to finish it. Personally, I'm of the camp that there's simply too much wrong about 06 on a fundamental level for there to be much salvaged from it. Even fan projects like Project-06, meant to "fix" the game, do just as good a job highlighting the underlying issues (level design focused too heavily on scripted bits, an emphasis on dull combat that kills the flow, and "amigo characters" that feel redundant when put alongside the three main heroes) as it does showing any hidden potential.
What was once a title that brought me great joy and helped keep me going in a dark part of my life is now something I see as a huge mark against not only Sonic, but Sega's track record. A result of all the worst business practices Sega kept indulging in while floundering as a 3rd party publisher. An embarrassment that looms over every new Sonic release. A reminder that Sega will always choose the shortsighted and greedy option. I'm not entirely sure when my opinion on 06 started to shift but I think it was around my sophomore year in high school. By that point I had made new friends, felt more comfortable around others my age, and was generally just having a better time. I didn't need to lie to myself about Sonic 06 anymore.
---
As terrible as it may be, I encourage anyone who hasn't played Sonic 06 to give it a try for themselves. While there might be dozens, if not hundreds of think pieces and video essays about it, most only look at the game on a surface level for shits and giggles. I think it's worth digging deeper and seeing for yourself what a fumble of this magnitude plays like. The history behind 06's development is nothing short of captivating as well but just make sure you do the homework yourself and don't bother with videos like Matt McMuscles "Wha Happun?" which unironically use GameFAQs console war forum posts as sources.
But as much as I wanted to give up, as much as I dreaded each day, I had to keep going. I had to.
Because Sonic The Hedgehog for the Xbox 360 was coming out soon.
I'm not saying Sonic The Hedgehog 2006 alone helped push me forward, or that I would have actually ended my life, but I was at a point where I desperately needed some joy and Sonic 06 was the next big thing to look forward to. Sonic 06 was THE reason I got an Xbox 360 and I loved it. As far as I was concerned, this was the biggest, most epic game I had played. A true showcase for what this new generation of consoles were capable of. It's not like I didn't notice the glitches, the long load times, or some of the more laughable aspects of its story. But all that stuff didn't matter to 14-year-old me. I beat all four stories, did all town missions, got all S ranks, and nabbed all of the achievements. Over the years, I've probably spent well over a few hundred hours playing this game. Admittedly, it's not a title I've gone back to much for well over a decade but there was a period where it might have been in my top 10 most played games of all time.
For most, Sonic 06 is seen as an appallingly unfinished train wreck of the highest caliber. Within that group however comes two wildly different opinions. Some have deemed the game unsalvageable and doomed to fail even if it had all the extra dev time in the world. The other opinion is that Sonic 06 could have been something truly special if given the extra time needed to finish it. Personally, I'm of the camp that there's simply too much wrong about 06 on a fundamental level for there to be much salvaged from it. Even fan projects like Project-06, meant to "fix" the game, do just as good a job highlighting the underlying issues (level design focused too heavily on scripted bits, an emphasis on dull combat that kills the flow, and "amigo characters" that feel redundant when put alongside the three main heroes) as it does showing any hidden potential.
What was once a title that brought me great joy and helped keep me going in a dark part of my life is now something I see as a huge mark against not only Sonic, but Sega's track record. A result of all the worst business practices Sega kept indulging in while floundering as a 3rd party publisher. An embarrassment that looms over every new Sonic release. A reminder that Sega will always choose the shortsighted and greedy option. I'm not entirely sure when my opinion on 06 started to shift but I think it was around my sophomore year in high school. By that point I had made new friends, felt more comfortable around others my age, and was generally just having a better time. I didn't need to lie to myself about Sonic 06 anymore.
---
As terrible as it may be, I encourage anyone who hasn't played Sonic 06 to give it a try for themselves. While there might be dozens, if not hundreds of think pieces and video essays about it, most only look at the game on a surface level for shits and giggles. I think it's worth digging deeper and seeing for yourself what a fumble of this magnitude plays like. The history behind 06's development is nothing short of captivating as well but just make sure you do the homework yourself and don't bother with videos like Matt McMuscles "Wha Happun?" which unironically use GameFAQs console war forum posts as sources.
2020
I think a lot of people exaggerate the problems with this game and hate it to an unhealthy level because at the end of the day it's just a weaker RE2R and that's not something to start riots over.
That said, it CAN'T be overstated just how much of a wasted opportunity Nemesis was. Instead of making the ultimate stalker enemy(something I think Capcom has still failed to truly do, despite trying it many times), they instead make Jill and Nemesis partake in a bunch of trite "set piece" moments that have zero tension and are too obviously scripted to be of any enjoyment. Instead of fearing Nemesis, I would just always dread seeing him appear in a cutscene because it meant I was gonna have to do another boring chase scene. This game was clearly made on a smaller budget than RE2R and they sure didn't make the best use of those resources.
---
Resident Evil: Resistance is unironically the best part of this package. Shame Capcom gave up on it so quickly.
That said, it CAN'T be overstated just how much of a wasted opportunity Nemesis was. Instead of making the ultimate stalker enemy(something I think Capcom has still failed to truly do, despite trying it many times), they instead make Jill and Nemesis partake in a bunch of trite "set piece" moments that have zero tension and are too obviously scripted to be of any enjoyment. Instead of fearing Nemesis, I would just always dread seeing him appear in a cutscene because it meant I was gonna have to do another boring chase scene. This game was clearly made on a smaller budget than RE2R and they sure didn't make the best use of those resources.
---
Resident Evil: Resistance is unironically the best part of this package. Shame Capcom gave up on it so quickly.
1999
Just wanted to say that this is the most raw af cover art I've seen for a game on here.
I just replayed MGS3S for the first time in years. I'm not sure how to feel about it now.
Don't get me wrong, there's a ton I still adore about this game. The sheer attention to detail is staggering, even by modern game standards. There's so many big-brain strategies that, against all odds, work wonders. I truly doubt there is any single person who knows every single Easter egg this game hides. Hell, we'll probably learn about some absurd secret hidden under our noses years from now.
It's such a shame then that so much of the game's core mechanics and features make this sort of experimentation feel so tedious. I don't like to throw around claims like "this game's controls have aged badly" or something. I think the controls in MGS3 work exceptionally well for what they were first designed for: Metal Gear Solid 1 and 2.
MGS3 has a completely different flow to the previous entries. Where MGS1 & 2 have a fast, arcade-like pace to their stealth, where many of the game's systems are binary, MSG3 is a slower, more open-ended game. MGS3 has you navigating fields of tall grass more often than the metal hallways of previous entries. Enemies can see you from further and there's more to keep in mind. The camo index, your inventory of food, the survival viewer, your backpack, etc. While I know MGS3 pros have mastered the controls and can pull off incredible feats, I don't think Snake's robotic movements and archaic way of handling firearms is a good fit for the more freeform nature of MGS3's levels and encounters.
Purists can say that I'm not giving the game enough of a chance and maybe I'm not. I may have platinumed the HD version years ago but I'm writing this review after only playing through the campaign for the first time in over half a decade. Maybe MGSV has spoiled me, but I think it's telling that every mainline MGS game after 3 used more conventional controls, especially for aiming and crawling about.
It's disappointing because I love almost everything else about MGS3. It has the tight level design, memorable bosses, and loads of character that MGSV utterly lacked but it mechanically feels a lot more unintuitive than contemporaries I played at the time, like the early Splinter Cell games. I suppose I should just be thankful I replayed this game using the HD collection's Subsistence version and not the original Snaker Eater one that exclusively featured the camera style from MGS1 & 2.
Fuck anyone that doesn't like The Pain, though. A man covered in bees that he sends to do his bidding? All while cackling like a little goblin? Beautiful.
Don't get me wrong, there's a ton I still adore about this game. The sheer attention to detail is staggering, even by modern game standards. There's so many big-brain strategies that, against all odds, work wonders. I truly doubt there is any single person who knows every single Easter egg this game hides. Hell, we'll probably learn about some absurd secret hidden under our noses years from now.
It's such a shame then that so much of the game's core mechanics and features make this sort of experimentation feel so tedious. I don't like to throw around claims like "this game's controls have aged badly" or something. I think the controls in MGS3 work exceptionally well for what they were first designed for: Metal Gear Solid 1 and 2.
MGS3 has a completely different flow to the previous entries. Where MGS1 & 2 have a fast, arcade-like pace to their stealth, where many of the game's systems are binary, MSG3 is a slower, more open-ended game. MGS3 has you navigating fields of tall grass more often than the metal hallways of previous entries. Enemies can see you from further and there's more to keep in mind. The camo index, your inventory of food, the survival viewer, your backpack, etc. While I know MGS3 pros have mastered the controls and can pull off incredible feats, I don't think Snake's robotic movements and archaic way of handling firearms is a good fit for the more freeform nature of MGS3's levels and encounters.
Purists can say that I'm not giving the game enough of a chance and maybe I'm not. I may have platinumed the HD version years ago but I'm writing this review after only playing through the campaign for the first time in over half a decade. Maybe MGSV has spoiled me, but I think it's telling that every mainline MGS game after 3 used more conventional controls, especially for aiming and crawling about.
It's disappointing because I love almost everything else about MGS3. It has the tight level design, memorable bosses, and loads of character that MGSV utterly lacked but it mechanically feels a lot more unintuitive than contemporaries I played at the time, like the early Splinter Cell games. I suppose I should just be thankful I replayed this game using the HD collection's Subsistence version and not the original Snaker Eater one that exclusively featured the camera style from MGS1 & 2.
Fuck anyone that doesn't like The Pain, though. A man covered in bees that he sends to do his bidding? All while cackling like a little goblin? Beautiful.
2002
My favorite games tend to be ones where every facet of their design feels like they were under the most scrutiny possible during development. The more laser focused, the better. Jet Set Radio Future is one of a few very strong outliers. If anything, Future is significantly less interested in this design philosophy than the original Jet Set Radio. That game was mission-based whereas Future is a lot more open, letting you travel to different parts of Tokyo-to on a whim. There's also no timer so you're free to tackle objectives at whatever pace you prefer. The Rokkaku Police aren't even on your ass as much and mainly show up for scripted battles that lock you into tiny arenas. For a while, I struggled to deduce if this all meant Future was a lesser game. For years I struggled to justify not only why Future would be designed like this, but why I loved the game when it clearly had these "flaws".
Over time, I began to notice how large of a fanbase Future had relative to its sales. It's no secret that Future didn't sell especially well (being stuck to the OG Xbox probably didn't help) but you wouldn't know that if you just saw how much fanart, cosplay, remixes, and general discussion around the game exists if you bother looking. What made me realize why Future is one of my favorite games is by seeing all the games being made in its image, and I'm not just talking about Bomb Rush Cyberfunk. Games like Neon Tail and Hover also show clear inspiration from the JSR franchise, especially Future. Now, whether these games are good or scratch the same itch as Future is irrelevant. What matters to me is that they exist at all. There are so many other, more successful franchises that haven't seen any spiritual successors from indie devs. What does Future do that makes people want more of it?
Jet Set Radio Future gives us a glimpse into a world and characters that resonated with players. It's about as counterculture as a game gets while being absolutely sincere about it. This is the secret sauce that holds Future together and has given it such a fan following. So many games from the 00's desperately followed trends in order to appeal cool to their target audience. The worlds and characters from games like SSX, Splashdown, and Freekstyle aren't original. They took current fashion choices, lingo, among other trends and blended them together into an exaggerated mirror of our world. The JSR games created their own style and people miss it and that's why fan content around these games is so common.
When you look at Future as less of an arcadey action platformer and more as a chance to explore a world with its own flair and pathos, the changes to its structure compared to the original make much more sense. Future isn't a game meant to be mastered in the same way as JSR, it's a game meant to be lived in. From the bustling nightlife of 99th street, to the grimy Tokyo underground sewage facility, Future's environments are simply fun to traverse and lose yourself in. A bunch of mini playgrounds without the timers of a Tony Hawk game or the constant threat of enemies like in the original JSR. Exploring these locales turns into a zen-like experience thanks to Hideki Naganuma's truly peerless beats.
Would I like an alternate version of Future with the more heavy handed structure of the first JSR? Sure, I'd like to see how well that'd work. But I love what we have now. I love that Smilebit managed to craft such charming characters. I love simply being in the world of Future. There's truly nothing else like it, which is why Future will never be forgotten by those that have played it.
Over time, I began to notice how large of a fanbase Future had relative to its sales. It's no secret that Future didn't sell especially well (being stuck to the OG Xbox probably didn't help) but you wouldn't know that if you just saw how much fanart, cosplay, remixes, and general discussion around the game exists if you bother looking. What made me realize why Future is one of my favorite games is by seeing all the games being made in its image, and I'm not just talking about Bomb Rush Cyberfunk. Games like Neon Tail and Hover also show clear inspiration from the JSR franchise, especially Future. Now, whether these games are good or scratch the same itch as Future is irrelevant. What matters to me is that they exist at all. There are so many other, more successful franchises that haven't seen any spiritual successors from indie devs. What does Future do that makes people want more of it?
Jet Set Radio Future gives us a glimpse into a world and characters that resonated with players. It's about as counterculture as a game gets while being absolutely sincere about it. This is the secret sauce that holds Future together and has given it such a fan following. So many games from the 00's desperately followed trends in order to appeal cool to their target audience. The worlds and characters from games like SSX, Splashdown, and Freekstyle aren't original. They took current fashion choices, lingo, among other trends and blended them together into an exaggerated mirror of our world. The JSR games created their own style and people miss it and that's why fan content around these games is so common.
When you look at Future as less of an arcadey action platformer and more as a chance to explore a world with its own flair and pathos, the changes to its structure compared to the original make much more sense. Future isn't a game meant to be mastered in the same way as JSR, it's a game meant to be lived in. From the bustling nightlife of 99th street, to the grimy Tokyo underground sewage facility, Future's environments are simply fun to traverse and lose yourself in. A bunch of mini playgrounds without the timers of a Tony Hawk game or the constant threat of enemies like in the original JSR. Exploring these locales turns into a zen-like experience thanks to Hideki Naganuma's truly peerless beats.
Would I like an alternate version of Future with the more heavy handed structure of the first JSR? Sure, I'd like to see how well that'd work. But I love what we have now. I love that Smilebit managed to craft such charming characters. I love simply being in the world of Future. There's truly nothing else like it, which is why Future will never be forgotten by those that have played it.
Maximo is one of the most literal translations of 80's 2D action platforming gameplay to the third dimension I've ever played. It manages to capture a lot of what made those retro platforming games so addictingly brutal but often doesn't account for how an extra axis can affect those design sensibilities.
First, let's just get the camera out of the way. Maximo doesn't make use of the right thumbstick. Straight up. It's a baffling omission and the only camera control you have is being able to center it with L1, but only when you're not moving the left thumbstick. Combine that with the one-of-a-kind decision to deliberately have the camera at a tilted angle, seemingly done to put the player at unease, and there can often be a lot of self-doubt when trying to aim at enemies or jump onto tiny platforms. Sometimes I'll see reviewers complain about a game's camera when said game is something like a kid-friendly 3D platformer. Like, who cares if the camera requires manual control in Sonic or Sly Cooper? You're not doing anything too taxing that'd prevent you from dual-tasking both your character and the camera. That sort of handwavy defense doesn't work so well when you're playing a more demanding title where the smallest of mistakes can lead to disastrous losses.
Maximo doesn't present the most complex challenges gaming has to offer but instead gives the player relatively basic hurdles to overcome and punishes the player severely for every misstep. Enemies and environmental hazards behave with the kind of rudimentary language you'd expect from old NES games. Maximo's arsenal of abilities is microscopic compared to other action game stars at the time but his move list can be expanded by finding Ability pickups from slain enemies. A lot of these are immensely useful, to the point that you'd feel naked without them... and that's when Maximo(the game) kicks your sorry ass by revealing the punishment for death: All abilities you're holding onto will be lost upon death, outside of the few you're allowed to "save" in your special "Locked Slots". It's like losing all your options in a bullet hell shmup. As the game progresses, more and more enemies and hazards will start to expect you to be equipped with certain abilities, making a parade of quick deaths likely unless you can find a workaround. For example, there's an enemy who chucks bombs at you who, if hit with any non-projectile attack, will explode in your face and deal massive damage. If you don't have a projectile-related ability of any sort (not something you're given by default) then you can't defeat them safely and must run around them entirely. Hell, even your shield is a commodity. Truly, nothing can be taken for granted in the world of Maximo.
That's what makes the rudimentary camera and lack of a lock-on or any other kind of Quality of Life feature an issue. Maximo has a lives system and requires you to pay Koins(yes, it's spelled with a K) to save your game and while I didn't ever have to use a continue(which, in theory, are also limited) a few of the deaths I had didn't feel entirely my fault, which doesn't sit well when dying has the potential to set you so far back and make you feel like utter shit.
So why do I like Maximo? Well, sometimes it's fun to play a no-frills 3D action platformer. Not many of those truly exist and it's nice that Maximo sticks to its guns and knows when to roll credits. It's not a terribly long game, and its pick-up-and-play nature harkens back to the days when you could waltz into an arcade and just give any game you saw a shot. You'll lose everything when you die in Maximo, but you've got nothing to lose if you decide to give Maximo a play.
...
Just wanna add that getting the "Mastery" label for every level looks nightmarish. You have to collect every koin, defeat every enemy(can't let them die by their own hands), collect every stationary power-up, open every chest, and break every interactable object in a level to get it. Try doing it yourself, you won't, coward.
First, let's just get the camera out of the way. Maximo doesn't make use of the right thumbstick. Straight up. It's a baffling omission and the only camera control you have is being able to center it with L1, but only when you're not moving the left thumbstick. Combine that with the one-of-a-kind decision to deliberately have the camera at a tilted angle, seemingly done to put the player at unease, and there can often be a lot of self-doubt when trying to aim at enemies or jump onto tiny platforms. Sometimes I'll see reviewers complain about a game's camera when said game is something like a kid-friendly 3D platformer. Like, who cares if the camera requires manual control in Sonic or Sly Cooper? You're not doing anything too taxing that'd prevent you from dual-tasking both your character and the camera. That sort of handwavy defense doesn't work so well when you're playing a more demanding title where the smallest of mistakes can lead to disastrous losses.
Maximo doesn't present the most complex challenges gaming has to offer but instead gives the player relatively basic hurdles to overcome and punishes the player severely for every misstep. Enemies and environmental hazards behave with the kind of rudimentary language you'd expect from old NES games. Maximo's arsenal of abilities is microscopic compared to other action game stars at the time but his move list can be expanded by finding Ability pickups from slain enemies. A lot of these are immensely useful, to the point that you'd feel naked without them... and that's when Maximo(the game) kicks your sorry ass by revealing the punishment for death: All abilities you're holding onto will be lost upon death, outside of the few you're allowed to "save" in your special "Locked Slots". It's like losing all your options in a bullet hell shmup. As the game progresses, more and more enemies and hazards will start to expect you to be equipped with certain abilities, making a parade of quick deaths likely unless you can find a workaround. For example, there's an enemy who chucks bombs at you who, if hit with any non-projectile attack, will explode in your face and deal massive damage. If you don't have a projectile-related ability of any sort (not something you're given by default) then you can't defeat them safely and must run around them entirely. Hell, even your shield is a commodity. Truly, nothing can be taken for granted in the world of Maximo.
That's what makes the rudimentary camera and lack of a lock-on or any other kind of Quality of Life feature an issue. Maximo has a lives system and requires you to pay Koins(yes, it's spelled with a K) to save your game and while I didn't ever have to use a continue(which, in theory, are also limited) a few of the deaths I had didn't feel entirely my fault, which doesn't sit well when dying has the potential to set you so far back and make you feel like utter shit.
So why do I like Maximo? Well, sometimes it's fun to play a no-frills 3D action platformer. Not many of those truly exist and it's nice that Maximo sticks to its guns and knows when to roll credits. It's not a terribly long game, and its pick-up-and-play nature harkens back to the days when you could waltz into an arcade and just give any game you saw a shot. You'll lose everything when you die in Maximo, but you've got nothing to lose if you decide to give Maximo a play.
...
Just wanna add that getting the "Mastery" label for every level looks nightmarish. You have to collect every koin, defeat every enemy(can't let them die by their own hands), collect every stationary power-up, open every chest, and break every interactable object in a level to get it. Try doing it yourself, you won't, coward.
Few developers have gotten hit as hard by the never-ending console war as Rare. The moment Microsoft acquired Rare spelled doom for the reception of all their future games. It's impossible to undersell how much Rare carried Nintendo during the N64 era. If not by pure quality, then definitely by quantity. Nintendo themselves were slow to put out titles for a console with middling 3rd party support so Rare's unexplainable ability to pump 2 to 3 games out per year was nothing short of vital for Nintendo to not be completely overshadowed by the new kid on the block, Sony. Rare's games meant a lot to Nintendo fans so the moment they jumped ship was seen as nothing short of betrayal and has led to a seemingly never-ending belief amongst the gaming public that Rare "lost their way" once they left the big N.
As someone who didn't touch a Rare game till 2008 with the original Banjo-Kazooie I just wanna throw my hat in the ring and call bullshit on this take. Not all of Rare's games were gold on the N64 and not all their games after the buyout were lackluster. If anything, I think Rare has been an inconsistent developer ever since they entered the scene. Without the nostalgia goggles, it's hard to really vibe with a lot of Rare's output. For every Donkey Kong Country 2, there were 3 Jet Force Gemini.
So with all that buildup hopefully you won't come slash my tires when I tell you that Grabbed by the Ghoulies is one of Rare's best.
Ghoulies is a game no one was seemingly asking for. Rare infamously started development on a game named "Grabbed by the Ghoulies" because 'goolies' in British slang means testicles and Rare were big fans of raunchy humor. Safe to say that Ghoulies didn't have a strong vision behind it, at least not initially. When you first pick up Ghoulies it'll feel like a stew of incompatible ideas. It's a room-by-room beat em up where you throw out attacks with the right thumbstick and primarily pick up anything not stapled to the wall to cave the nearest funny gremlin's face in. There's QTEs, a health system that changes your max HP every time you change rooms, and a wide assortment of Challenges you must complete to progress. It's all admittedly a rather slow and confusing start but give it half an hour and Ghoulies reveals it's hand: An air guitaring Grim Reaper.
See, every room in Ghoulies throws at least one Challenge at the player. These can be as self explanatory as "Cooper(player character) must defeat all enemies" or "Cooper must find the key" and as deviously specific as "Cooper must not defeat the same type of enemy in succession" or "Cooper can only use up to a certain number of attacks". All Challenges must be completed (or, in the case of ones that don't have an end goal, obeyed). What happens if you disobey a Challenge? The Grim Reaper shows up and will slowly glide his way to Cooper and kill him in one hit with his extended finger. This isn't just a simple fail state though as the Reaper is slow enough that he can be avoided (though he will slowly build speed until you likely can't outrun him) and his one-hit-kill poke can also kill any enemy he makes contact with. The Reaper doesn't favor sides! Because of this, sometimes the player might WANT to fail a Challenge and activate the Reaper in order to deal with particularly tough enemies (and there's at least one late game case where an enemy holding a key you must obtain is invincible and the solution to the puzzle IS triggering the Reaper). With how many Challenges there are, some are inevitably going to clash with others. "Don't damage any of the room's contents" isn't a very feasible rule to obey when the same room also tells you to kill all the enemies and one of said enemies happens to be hiding in a destructible object. As a result, sometimes the Reaper is going to come out to play no matter how carefully you tread over certain rules, but instead of this taking control away from the player, it gives them more agency to decide WHEN to break a given rule. It's an extremely "meta" mechanic and not the tired 4th wall breaking "Oh shit! We're in a video game!" kind. It's not common to play a game that puts such a clever spin on such an intrinsic element of the medium.
So while the fighting itself is simplistic it's not really the star of the show. The variety in Challenges is more than enough to keep the game engaging throughout its 7-ish hour length. What many may find lacking is the sharp and crass humor Rare is often associated with. You'd think a game with such a crude origin would maybe have more of a personality but the general story and characters are largely forgettable besides a farmer who always greats you with a different not-subtle-at-all sexual innuendo. At least the cel shaded visuals and campy haunted house music has aged well.
Released in an era where gamers and critics got GTA-pilled and convinced themselves that M-rated games were objectively superior and shorter, linear games were seen as outdated it's easy to see why Ghoulies bombed on the OG Xbox but time has been very kind Rare's debut on Microsoft's turf. In some ways I see Ghoulies as a bit of a precursor to the modern experimental indie games that play with even the most conventional of mechanics. Give CBT a try and play Rare's most underrated game!
As someone who didn't touch a Rare game till 2008 with the original Banjo-Kazooie I just wanna throw my hat in the ring and call bullshit on this take. Not all of Rare's games were gold on the N64 and not all their games after the buyout were lackluster. If anything, I think Rare has been an inconsistent developer ever since they entered the scene. Without the nostalgia goggles, it's hard to really vibe with a lot of Rare's output. For every Donkey Kong Country 2, there were 3 Jet Force Gemini.
So with all that buildup hopefully you won't come slash my tires when I tell you that Grabbed by the Ghoulies is one of Rare's best.
Ghoulies is a game no one was seemingly asking for. Rare infamously started development on a game named "Grabbed by the Ghoulies" because 'goolies' in British slang means testicles and Rare were big fans of raunchy humor. Safe to say that Ghoulies didn't have a strong vision behind it, at least not initially. When you first pick up Ghoulies it'll feel like a stew of incompatible ideas. It's a room-by-room beat em up where you throw out attacks with the right thumbstick and primarily pick up anything not stapled to the wall to cave the nearest funny gremlin's face in. There's QTEs, a health system that changes your max HP every time you change rooms, and a wide assortment of Challenges you must complete to progress. It's all admittedly a rather slow and confusing start but give it half an hour and Ghoulies reveals it's hand: An air guitaring Grim Reaper.
See, every room in Ghoulies throws at least one Challenge at the player. These can be as self explanatory as "Cooper(player character) must defeat all enemies" or "Cooper must find the key" and as deviously specific as "Cooper must not defeat the same type of enemy in succession" or "Cooper can only use up to a certain number of attacks". All Challenges must be completed (or, in the case of ones that don't have an end goal, obeyed). What happens if you disobey a Challenge? The Grim Reaper shows up and will slowly glide his way to Cooper and kill him in one hit with his extended finger. This isn't just a simple fail state though as the Reaper is slow enough that he can be avoided (though he will slowly build speed until you likely can't outrun him) and his one-hit-kill poke can also kill any enemy he makes contact with. The Reaper doesn't favor sides! Because of this, sometimes the player might WANT to fail a Challenge and activate the Reaper in order to deal with particularly tough enemies (and there's at least one late game case where an enemy holding a key you must obtain is invincible and the solution to the puzzle IS triggering the Reaper). With how many Challenges there are, some are inevitably going to clash with others. "Don't damage any of the room's contents" isn't a very feasible rule to obey when the same room also tells you to kill all the enemies and one of said enemies happens to be hiding in a destructible object. As a result, sometimes the Reaper is going to come out to play no matter how carefully you tread over certain rules, but instead of this taking control away from the player, it gives them more agency to decide WHEN to break a given rule. It's an extremely "meta" mechanic and not the tired 4th wall breaking "Oh shit! We're in a video game!" kind. It's not common to play a game that puts such a clever spin on such an intrinsic element of the medium.
So while the fighting itself is simplistic it's not really the star of the show. The variety in Challenges is more than enough to keep the game engaging throughout its 7-ish hour length. What many may find lacking is the sharp and crass humor Rare is often associated with. You'd think a game with such a crude origin would maybe have more of a personality but the general story and characters are largely forgettable besides a farmer who always greats you with a different not-subtle-at-all sexual innuendo. At least the cel shaded visuals and campy haunted house music has aged well.
Released in an era where gamers and critics got GTA-pilled and convinced themselves that M-rated games were objectively superior and shorter, linear games were seen as outdated it's easy to see why Ghoulies bombed on the OG Xbox but time has been very kind Rare's debut on Microsoft's turf. In some ways I see Ghoulies as a bit of a precursor to the modern experimental indie games that play with even the most conventional of mechanics. Give CBT a try and play Rare's most underrated game!
2014
It's easy to write The Evil Within off as Shinji Mikami attempting to repeat his success with Resident Evil 4 on a new generation of hardware but I think that'd be selling TEW a bit short. Yes, it has a lot of surface level similarities to one of the greatest games of all time, but TEW has a much darker side to it. A more ruthless, unapologetic side.
One very appreciated similarity between TEW and RE4 is how utterly unforgiving it is. While some shooters will offer the occasional one-hit-kill hazard, TEW makes them a constant throughout the 10 hour long adventure and you're expected to die to them frequently. TEW does not tolerate mistakes, either in the player's execution or decision making. Checkpoints are common enough that failure rarely feels soul crushing but death is around every corner and on a first playthrough you'll constantly be on edge. I was second guessing my decisions far more often than in most third person shooters and I consider that a strong positive.
While RE4 uses its tank controls and lack of movement while aiming as a key part of its challenge, TEW offers a more conventional control scheme. Your player character, Sebastian Castellanos(badass name btw), can move freely while aiming and is much more nimble. To accommodate this, enemies are far more aggressive and slightly less predictable than in RE4. While this can occasionally lead to moments where an enemies acts in a wild manner that borders on unfair, I think it helps make the fights more dynamic. Maybe it's because I've played through RE4 over 50 times at this point and have only played TEW around 7 but I find it a lot harder to go into autopilot in TEW as I feel a lot more can go wrong for you at a given moment. It's a similar tense feeling to RE4 but a bit more manic.
While RE4 feels very focused on it's set of escalating challenges, TEW is a lot more scatterbrained. Every few chapters introduces not only new enemies and obstacles, but entirely different pacing and context for the frights you face. One chapter will have you being cold and calculated while the next will put you into a mad frenzy. This all makes it hard to judge TEW as a whole because the game's quality can change on a dime depending on what kind of scenario it throws you into but overall I think the variety and ruthlessness makes for an engaging and memorable game. Perhaps it's the at times brutal difficulty and demand for you to learn on the fly that made TEW a bit of a dud to critics and casual players but like many games of its kind I recommend you give it a shot and don't immediately write it off as a cheap RE4 knock-off. It may not reach the same pristine quality of Leon's most acclaimed outing but it still manages to stand on its own, even if it can be a bit jank at times.
One very appreciated similarity between TEW and RE4 is how utterly unforgiving it is. While some shooters will offer the occasional one-hit-kill hazard, TEW makes them a constant throughout the 10 hour long adventure and you're expected to die to them frequently. TEW does not tolerate mistakes, either in the player's execution or decision making. Checkpoints are common enough that failure rarely feels soul crushing but death is around every corner and on a first playthrough you'll constantly be on edge. I was second guessing my decisions far more often than in most third person shooters and I consider that a strong positive.
While RE4 uses its tank controls and lack of movement while aiming as a key part of its challenge, TEW offers a more conventional control scheme. Your player character, Sebastian Castellanos(badass name btw), can move freely while aiming and is much more nimble. To accommodate this, enemies are far more aggressive and slightly less predictable than in RE4. While this can occasionally lead to moments where an enemies acts in a wild manner that borders on unfair, I think it helps make the fights more dynamic. Maybe it's because I've played through RE4 over 50 times at this point and have only played TEW around 7 but I find it a lot harder to go into autopilot in TEW as I feel a lot more can go wrong for you at a given moment. It's a similar tense feeling to RE4 but a bit more manic.
While RE4 feels very focused on it's set of escalating challenges, TEW is a lot more scatterbrained. Every few chapters introduces not only new enemies and obstacles, but entirely different pacing and context for the frights you face. One chapter will have you being cold and calculated while the next will put you into a mad frenzy. This all makes it hard to judge TEW as a whole because the game's quality can change on a dime depending on what kind of scenario it throws you into but overall I think the variety and ruthlessness makes for an engaging and memorable game. Perhaps it's the at times brutal difficulty and demand for you to learn on the fly that made TEW a bit of a dud to critics and casual players but like many games of its kind I recommend you give it a shot and don't immediately write it off as a cheap RE4 knock-off. It may not reach the same pristine quality of Leon's most acclaimed outing but it still manages to stand on its own, even if it can be a bit jank at times.
2024
HOP TOP meshes the enemy formations and attack patterns from games like Galaxian and the nonstop jumping from games like Icy Tower and Doodle Jump to create a new kind of arcade-inspired title. The need to watch your footing while making sure to blast enemies attacking from above creates a tense but easily digestible multitasking challenge where both the top and bottom of the screen are of equal importance. Each of the game's enemy types provide unique threats but are all initially vulnerable as they come swooping into formation, similar to the aliens in Galaxian. This games the start of each round extra important, as this is where you can kill a lot of the threats before they have a chance to retaliate. Unfortunately, HOP TOP features a pet peeve of mine where you're given an auto fire option but said auto fire isn't nearly as quick as manually mashing the hell out of the fire button. Like many games of its kind, there's no inherent reason to stop firing in most cases. A couple of the game's stages feature platforms that'll collapse on top of you if recklessly fired upon, but they're few and far between. Mashing till your sore shouldn't be a key part of your game loop but if you're going after highscores, it'll have to be in HOP TOP. This becomes extra obnoxious thanks to the orange enemy type that quickly flies offscreen, only to reappear at the bottom of the screen and zoom its way back into formation. As the game progresses, you're given so little time to hit these guys that they become a real pace killer. They only stay in formation for around half a second after the first dozen rounds, and that makes them occasionally impossible to hit when the layout of ther platforms aren't in your favor, leading to more waiting. Thankfully the game does have a counter against lollygagging players by automatically scrolling the screen up if a player doesn't do it themselves for long enough, but it's a shame the game itself isn't immune to halting the player at times.
As far as balance goes, HOP TOP isn't easy but there's some leeway when it comes to generous hitboxes and the occasional appearance of power-ups that alter HOP's shots. These shot modifications can easily end a round of enemies before they even get a chance to form up, but the frequency of these power-ups (as well as score items like balloons) seems inconsistent. Maybe there's an untold logic behind their spawn rate but I would frequently play for 10 or more rounds with no power-ups in sight, while getting 2 or 3 within the span of just a handful. These power-ups don't feel vital to your success so I never felt my runs were severely affected by the game's willingness to hand me convenient power-ups, but it's a strange aspect that could maybe use some finetuning.
Otherwise, I was surprised by how well realized HOP TOP is. While you'd probably never mistake it for an actual arcade game from the 80's, the paintjob is more than solid enough to sell you on the premise. The game features two main modes; an arcade mode meant to play within the limitations of those older arcade titles (so you're given less variety in enemy waves and power-up) that feels about as pure as any golden era arcade game, and a campaign mode with a larger selection of level hazards, backed by gorgeous 32-bit art. Games last roughly 5-9 minutes from my experience, so it's always tempting to go for one more game. Hopefully we see more games try to mix and match multiple arcade classics.
As far as balance goes, HOP TOP isn't easy but there's some leeway when it comes to generous hitboxes and the occasional appearance of power-ups that alter HOP's shots. These shot modifications can easily end a round of enemies before they even get a chance to form up, but the frequency of these power-ups (as well as score items like balloons) seems inconsistent. Maybe there's an untold logic behind their spawn rate but I would frequently play for 10 or more rounds with no power-ups in sight, while getting 2 or 3 within the span of just a handful. These power-ups don't feel vital to your success so I never felt my runs were severely affected by the game's willingness to hand me convenient power-ups, but it's a strange aspect that could maybe use some finetuning.
Otherwise, I was surprised by how well realized HOP TOP is. While you'd probably never mistake it for an actual arcade game from the 80's, the paintjob is more than solid enough to sell you on the premise. The game features two main modes; an arcade mode meant to play within the limitations of those older arcade titles (so you're given less variety in enemy waves and power-up) that feels about as pure as any golden era arcade game, and a campaign mode with a larger selection of level hazards, backed by gorgeous 32-bit art. Games last roughly 5-9 minutes from my experience, so it's always tempting to go for one more game. Hopefully we see more games try to mix and match multiple arcade classics.
1999
Ape Escape is a classic early 3D title that favors experimentation over refinement. It's two main goals are to demonstrate novel uses of the dualshock's analog sticks and to be a collectathon where the collectibles themselves offer a unique challenge. While Ape Escape partially succeeds in these goals, it's only at a surface level. Despite being a first party title, Ape Escape makes a good argument for why all expansive 3D platformers of the 5th generation that were on the PSX would've benefitted from being made for the N64 instead. This might be one of the best games of the 5th gen I've played that suffers horrendously from such a small draw distance. Actually scanning the environment for apes is largely a fool's errand when you can't see 20 feet in front of you. The aggressive texture warping doesn't help either and makes the game a bit of an eyesore to play at times. Outside of Spyro, I don't think any PSX platformers I've played have managed to avoid the common stumbling points of the system's limitations.
The game's reliance on the dualshocks' analog sticks is probably the best counterargument to the game being a better fit for Nintendo's console, but I don't think the game makes a good enough case for its unique control layout. Being a collectathon, you're expected to freely move in all directions and search for secrets. Placing camera controls on the D-pad makes the process of simply keeping the camera looking forward more of a hassle than it has any right to be but that's not really a deal breaker for me. Bad cameras and 3D platformers go hand-in-hand, after all. My real issue is how the right stick is used for your assortment of gadgets, but very few of these would lose much if they were instead mapped to a simple button press. What does rotating the stick to use the hula-hoop accomplish? What's the point of flicking the stick to use the Ultra Hand? If performing these actions is supposed to further immerse you into the game's world, then I think all the times your gadgets fail to register your inputs should balance things out and make the effort moot. The only exceptions are the Monkey Radar and the RC car. Both of these allow the player to move and use the device simultaneously, which is of little use for the radar but admittedly is necessary for a few puzzles with the RC car. You could still map these gadgets to a single button and lock the player's movement during their use and the experience wouldn't change THAT drastically. While initially charming, this is a rare case where I can't really justify the unorthodox use of the right stick.
"But what about those funny apes?" These little gremlins are what would happen if you gave the power stars in Super Mario 64 legs, and maybe an uzi for good measure. Actually collecting an ape is a tad more involved than grabbing a standard collectable since they'll flee you on sight. It's up to you to decide whether you want to sneak up and get the drop on them or just chase them down like a rabid dog. The most interesting apes are the ones hidden behind unique fortifications. Sometimes this'll be a cage you need to find a way to open, while other times an ape might be riding the back of an animal and you'll have to knock them off. Without going back to count, I'd wager there's around 20 or so apes hidden in one-of-a-kind manners. With 204 monkeys to capture, these outliers add some nice variety but aren't enough to stop the act of catching monkeys feel a bit rote after a few worlds. Too many monkeys are placed on small platforms with nowhere to run, making the whole act of having to chase after your collectibles feel arbitrary. I'll give credit to the game for giving each monkey a name and a small one sentence description. They tend to be pretty generic but occasionally you'll find a funny fact, like how one is afraid of the ocean, despite being in the water-themed world. These extra details, along with the impeccable soundtrack and colorful environments, help give the game some extra character which does go a long way in a subgenre that tends to focus so heavily on this front. I only wish the game leaned harder into the sneaking and chasing aspects and made more of the monkeys stand out instead of so many of them feeling like a formality. Still, I had a fun time and would recommend Ape Escape if you're looking for more early 3D platforming fun.
Side Tangent: The hardest thing in this game for me was the collapsing bridge in the hot springs level. You need to run at that bridge perfectly straight on or you ain't making it.
The game's reliance on the dualshocks' analog sticks is probably the best counterargument to the game being a better fit for Nintendo's console, but I don't think the game makes a good enough case for its unique control layout. Being a collectathon, you're expected to freely move in all directions and search for secrets. Placing camera controls on the D-pad makes the process of simply keeping the camera looking forward more of a hassle than it has any right to be but that's not really a deal breaker for me. Bad cameras and 3D platformers go hand-in-hand, after all. My real issue is how the right stick is used for your assortment of gadgets, but very few of these would lose much if they were instead mapped to a simple button press. What does rotating the stick to use the hula-hoop accomplish? What's the point of flicking the stick to use the Ultra Hand? If performing these actions is supposed to further immerse you into the game's world, then I think all the times your gadgets fail to register your inputs should balance things out and make the effort moot. The only exceptions are the Monkey Radar and the RC car. Both of these allow the player to move and use the device simultaneously, which is of little use for the radar but admittedly is necessary for a few puzzles with the RC car. You could still map these gadgets to a single button and lock the player's movement during their use and the experience wouldn't change THAT drastically. While initially charming, this is a rare case where I can't really justify the unorthodox use of the right stick.
"But what about those funny apes?" These little gremlins are what would happen if you gave the power stars in Super Mario 64 legs, and maybe an uzi for good measure. Actually collecting an ape is a tad more involved than grabbing a standard collectable since they'll flee you on sight. It's up to you to decide whether you want to sneak up and get the drop on them or just chase them down like a rabid dog. The most interesting apes are the ones hidden behind unique fortifications. Sometimes this'll be a cage you need to find a way to open, while other times an ape might be riding the back of an animal and you'll have to knock them off. Without going back to count, I'd wager there's around 20 or so apes hidden in one-of-a-kind manners. With 204 monkeys to capture, these outliers add some nice variety but aren't enough to stop the act of catching monkeys feel a bit rote after a few worlds. Too many monkeys are placed on small platforms with nowhere to run, making the whole act of having to chase after your collectibles feel arbitrary. I'll give credit to the game for giving each monkey a name and a small one sentence description. They tend to be pretty generic but occasionally you'll find a funny fact, like how one is afraid of the ocean, despite being in the water-themed world. These extra details, along with the impeccable soundtrack and colorful environments, help give the game some extra character which does go a long way in a subgenre that tends to focus so heavily on this front. I only wish the game leaned harder into the sneaking and chasing aspects and made more of the monkeys stand out instead of so many of them feeling like a formality. Still, I had a fun time and would recommend Ape Escape if you're looking for more early 3D platforming fun.
Side Tangent: The hardest thing in this game for me was the collapsing bridge in the hot springs level. You need to run at that bridge perfectly straight on or you ain't making it.