Lucca202
BACKER
2018
Moonlighter is a great game on paper: roguelite dungeon-crawling plus shop management and rebuilding a town, all accompanied by beautiful pixel art -- quite possibly the most fluid pixel art I've ever seen in a game. It's so incredibly disappointing to see that the final product is much less than the sum of its parts, and leaves a lot to be desired.
The game puts you in charge of a shopkeeper named Will, who makes a living by exploring magical dungeons that exist close to his town, and dreams of unraveling their mysteries. The core loop has you entering the procedurally generated dungeons, fighting enemies and collect loot, then leaving with your stuff and putting it for sale on the shop. There, you can set the placement and price for each item: clients will react to that price with satisfaction, or shock, or ecstasy, and from that, you can gauge how much people are willing to pay. Money you get is used to improve the town's facilities and craft more equipment, so you can afford exploring the dungeons further.
The issue is, every one of those systems is incredibly shallow. Take the game's combat, for instance: you have a choice of four melee weapons, all of which require the same materials to craft and upgrade per tier, and also play the exact same, with a three hit combo as well as a special attack you'll likely never use because of how it leaves you open. There's a bit of a Lords of the Fallen-ness to the weapons in that the game tries to get you to be mindful of your attacks by making wind-up and recovery animations uncancellable and slow, but overdoes it, and instead makes even the fastest weapons in the game dissatisfying to use.
It's demoralizing how much faster basic enemies are compared to you, and also how bulky they are. The latter is part of how the game handles progression in an annoying way: the main game is composed of four dungeons with three very floors each, which is not a lot. The floor map is procedurally generated and extremely simple, enemies being the only thing in your way. Whenever you move between floors, enemy stats jump. That's it: nothing else changes about the dungeon itself except that the same enemies can now kill you faster and you'll need a turbo controller to bring them down. It's a cheap -- and grindy -- method of adding difficulty to force you to go back to town and upgrade your stuff.
One of them, anyway -- it's easy to name a few others. For instance, Will has few iframes, leading to a lot of near instant deaths, and a lot of enemies (including bosses) do not telegraph their attacks, forcing you to rely on rote memorization of their timings and/or spamming your stilted dodge move that is likely to lead you into a pit, a wall, or a damage source. Speaking of which, as beautiful as the game looks, it leaves a lot to be desired in terms of visual clarity. Enemies and props blend into the backgrounds too easily, often leading you into walking straight into them. It's rare for 2D games to have these issues, because generally, it's an easy issue to fix with outlines or by choosing contrasting palettes. Moonlighter is the first case I've seen in many years.
But anyway, you get tired of dealing with that and exit the dungeon, finding yourself in the town soon after. Rebuilding the town is locked behind dungeon progression, so you don't have much freedom in that sense. As for the shop, you place the items you want to sell and assign a price. It's super uninvolved: each item has a set price people are willing to pay for it, which never changes, and you have to find it through trial and error. Or just use a guide and get through that faster, especially since the menus are super clunky and you don't want to get stuck doing inventory management for too long. Sometimes, NPCs make item requests, which are never worth it, and maybe once a day you have to stop a thief. The shop is just a section of the game you want to end faster.
The icing on the cake is in how buggy the game is. To the developers' credit, in the three to four years since the game released, they have fixed a lot of stuff: it used to be so bad, people openly recommended not buying and instead waiting for more patches. But even today, there's a lot of bugs that show up through normal gameplay. Some stuff is pretty minor, like audio fading out or cutting off when it shouldn't, but a lot of the time the game screws you pretty hard. To list a few cases, the game will randomly softlock in places such as the shop. it will routinely miscalculate your stats. There's collision issues, and it's not rare to get stuck inside walls. There's problems that stem from control remapping. There's even a bug on the final boss where it can just kill you randomly through invisible damage sources that has caused people to drop the game on the cusp of finishing it.
Which is what I feel I should have done. I gave the game too many free passes because of its indieness and (admittedly, incredibly pretty) sprite animations, but having gone through the whole thing, it just wasn't worth it. Moonlighter is a clunky, glitchy grindfest that plays like a prototype of the game it wanted to be. With so many great indie roguelites on the market, it's hard to recommend it.
The game puts you in charge of a shopkeeper named Will, who makes a living by exploring magical dungeons that exist close to his town, and dreams of unraveling their mysteries. The core loop has you entering the procedurally generated dungeons, fighting enemies and collect loot, then leaving with your stuff and putting it for sale on the shop. There, you can set the placement and price for each item: clients will react to that price with satisfaction, or shock, or ecstasy, and from that, you can gauge how much people are willing to pay. Money you get is used to improve the town's facilities and craft more equipment, so you can afford exploring the dungeons further.
The issue is, every one of those systems is incredibly shallow. Take the game's combat, for instance: you have a choice of four melee weapons, all of which require the same materials to craft and upgrade per tier, and also play the exact same, with a three hit combo as well as a special attack you'll likely never use because of how it leaves you open. There's a bit of a Lords of the Fallen-ness to the weapons in that the game tries to get you to be mindful of your attacks by making wind-up and recovery animations uncancellable and slow, but overdoes it, and instead makes even the fastest weapons in the game dissatisfying to use.
It's demoralizing how much faster basic enemies are compared to you, and also how bulky they are. The latter is part of how the game handles progression in an annoying way: the main game is composed of four dungeons with three very floors each, which is not a lot. The floor map is procedurally generated and extremely simple, enemies being the only thing in your way. Whenever you move between floors, enemy stats jump. That's it: nothing else changes about the dungeon itself except that the same enemies can now kill you faster and you'll need a turbo controller to bring them down. It's a cheap -- and grindy -- method of adding difficulty to force you to go back to town and upgrade your stuff.
One of them, anyway -- it's easy to name a few others. For instance, Will has few iframes, leading to a lot of near instant deaths, and a lot of enemies (including bosses) do not telegraph their attacks, forcing you to rely on rote memorization of their timings and/or spamming your stilted dodge move that is likely to lead you into a pit, a wall, or a damage source. Speaking of which, as beautiful as the game looks, it leaves a lot to be desired in terms of visual clarity. Enemies and props blend into the backgrounds too easily, often leading you into walking straight into them. It's rare for 2D games to have these issues, because generally, it's an easy issue to fix with outlines or by choosing contrasting palettes. Moonlighter is the first case I've seen in many years.
But anyway, you get tired of dealing with that and exit the dungeon, finding yourself in the town soon after. Rebuilding the town is locked behind dungeon progression, so you don't have much freedom in that sense. As for the shop, you place the items you want to sell and assign a price. It's super uninvolved: each item has a set price people are willing to pay for it, which never changes, and you have to find it through trial and error. Or just use a guide and get through that faster, especially since the menus are super clunky and you don't want to get stuck doing inventory management for too long. Sometimes, NPCs make item requests, which are never worth it, and maybe once a day you have to stop a thief. The shop is just a section of the game you want to end faster.
The icing on the cake is in how buggy the game is. To the developers' credit, in the three to four years since the game released, they have fixed a lot of stuff: it used to be so bad, people openly recommended not buying and instead waiting for more patches. But even today, there's a lot of bugs that show up through normal gameplay. Some stuff is pretty minor, like audio fading out or cutting off when it shouldn't, but a lot of the time the game screws you pretty hard. To list a few cases, the game will randomly softlock in places such as the shop. it will routinely miscalculate your stats. There's collision issues, and it's not rare to get stuck inside walls. There's problems that stem from control remapping. There's even a bug on the final boss where it can just kill you randomly through invisible damage sources that has caused people to drop the game on the cusp of finishing it.
Which is what I feel I should have done. I gave the game too many free passes because of its indieness and (admittedly, incredibly pretty) sprite animations, but having gone through the whole thing, it just wasn't worth it. Moonlighter is a clunky, glitchy grindfest that plays like a prototype of the game it wanted to be. With so many great indie roguelites on the market, it's hard to recommend it.
2019
Yakuza 4 is my least favorite entry in the franchise so far, having gone through 0-5 and Dead Souls. Aside from the jank inherent to the Remastered trilogy, there are two major issues with Y4, both somewhat related to its ambitious choice of splitting the story among four playable protagonists. While I do not think the idea itself is bad, the execution definitely was. They should have gone with two, at most three characters to start with, and then expanded it over the course of other games.
The new characters are just not up to par with Kiryu, and that contrast is evident once he finally enters the story in the last act of the game, with all of his Y3 kit, and you can feel what it's like to control a complete character. In comparison. Akiyama, Saejima and Tanimura all one-trick ponies: they're equipped with a rather basic moveset that revolves around a certain theme and is good at only that one thing. For Saejima, it's the charge attack; for Tanimura, it's the parry, and for Akiyama... he can juggle, I guess? He's kinda wimpy, as his trainer missions make clear.
It's pretty nifty how RGG Studios often tell a story about the character's background from their fighting style: the reason why Tanimura grapples and parries so much is because he's a cop, and he and Akiyama are considerably weaker than the other two in a straight fight because they're civilians, not Yakuza. However, every character still has to fight more or less the same fights as the others, and their weaknesses summed up with their anemic kits make a 30+ hour game into a chore. Heck, they even had Tanimura fight the Jingo 2.0 monstrosity they created, and it's such torture.
But if it was just the characters' gameplay, I'd probably chalk it up to a few bad fights and not mind the game as much. But the fact that the story was split in four acts dedicated to each character is itself the cause of other problems. While the game does manage to tie the four threads together -- something that cannot be said for Yakuza 5, for instance -- the pacing of the story is demolished due to each character having to go through the motions of their own piece of the story, then stopping to make room for the next.
More than that, the story itself is a mess, losing itself in ridiculous scenes that constantly rewrite their own characters and make zero sense. In fact, Yakuza 4 is home to the stupidest (derogatory) plot twist in the entire franchise, one that is almost synonymous with the game and gets brought up almost every time its story is up for discussion. I'm not going to spoil it here, but suffice to say it removes considerable tension from pivotal scenes in the narrative, all for the sake of a minor change that could have been written in a different way.
All in all, Y4 was such a disappointment, one that couldn't redeem itself by the end even though the finale is one of the stupidest (compliment), over the top scenes in the franchise. Right after finishing it, I put the disc away and never looked at it again. But hey, if you're this deep into the franchise and still want to keep going, well, nothing will stop you, so go for it. Just... temper your expectations.
The new characters are just not up to par with Kiryu, and that contrast is evident once he finally enters the story in the last act of the game, with all of his Y3 kit, and you can feel what it's like to control a complete character. In comparison. Akiyama, Saejima and Tanimura all one-trick ponies: they're equipped with a rather basic moveset that revolves around a certain theme and is good at only that one thing. For Saejima, it's the charge attack; for Tanimura, it's the parry, and for Akiyama... he can juggle, I guess? He's kinda wimpy, as his trainer missions make clear.
It's pretty nifty how RGG Studios often tell a story about the character's background from their fighting style: the reason why Tanimura grapples and parries so much is because he's a cop, and he and Akiyama are considerably weaker than the other two in a straight fight because they're civilians, not Yakuza. However, every character still has to fight more or less the same fights as the others, and their weaknesses summed up with their anemic kits make a 30+ hour game into a chore. Heck, they even had Tanimura fight the Jingo 2.0 monstrosity they created, and it's such torture.
But if it was just the characters' gameplay, I'd probably chalk it up to a few bad fights and not mind the game as much. But the fact that the story was split in four acts dedicated to each character is itself the cause of other problems. While the game does manage to tie the four threads together -- something that cannot be said for Yakuza 5, for instance -- the pacing of the story is demolished due to each character having to go through the motions of their own piece of the story, then stopping to make room for the next.
More than that, the story itself is a mess, losing itself in ridiculous scenes that constantly rewrite their own characters and make zero sense. In fact, Yakuza 4 is home to the stupidest (derogatory) plot twist in the entire franchise, one that is almost synonymous with the game and gets brought up almost every time its story is up for discussion. I'm not going to spoil it here, but suffice to say it removes considerable tension from pivotal scenes in the narrative, all for the sake of a minor change that could have been written in a different way.
All in all, Y4 was such a disappointment, one that couldn't redeem itself by the end even though the finale is one of the stupidest (compliment), over the top scenes in the franchise. Right after finishing it, I put the disc away and never looked at it again. But hey, if you're this deep into the franchise and still want to keep going, well, nothing will stop you, so go for it. Just... temper your expectations.
My take on this collection and the X Challenge it offers is more or less the same as the first volume. This is the same packaging, with the same types of extras, but with different games, so most of what I said still goes.
The upside is that this volume doesn't actually have the input lag present in the first one, as there are no SNES games here. In fact, on the PS4, all four games ran pretty smoothly. The downside is that the titles in this volume are all hot garbage, and you should probably not bother anyway, no matter how crisp they run.
No, really, I had only played up until X5 many years ago, thought it was bad and stopped caring about the franchise. Hoo boy. It got worse. It got way worse. I was a happier person when I didn't know the extent of what had happened to one of my favorite childhood franchises.
Capcom split the collection in two for our own good, so do yourself a favor and stick to Volume 1.
The upside is that this volume doesn't actually have the input lag present in the first one, as there are no SNES games here. In fact, on the PS4, all four games ran pretty smoothly. The downside is that the titles in this volume are all hot garbage, and you should probably not bother anyway, no matter how crisp they run.
No, really, I had only played up until X5 many years ago, thought it was bad and stopped caring about the franchise. Hoo boy. It got worse. It got way worse. I was a happier person when I didn't know the extent of what had happened to one of my favorite childhood franchises.
Capcom split the collection in two for our own good, so do yourself a favor and stick to Volume 1.
2004
X8 is what you get if you decide you're going to fix X7 but somehow figure that the only issue with that game was the camera, which is an incredibly daft way of looking at the problem. X7 was going to be a bad game from the moment they started developing the tech for it, trying to map a fast-paced 2D action game to 3D, without much regard for preserving the way it played.
The result was a tedious mess with a long list of issues, which includes: awkward physics that create problems not only during fights, but while climbing and moving around on platforms. 3D animations that are just not as snappy as 2D -- achieving that requires a lot of polish -- resulting in a game that feels slower overall. Characters feel unresponsive, as attack animations are far longer and unnecessary additions such as turning animations are added. In fact, while the playable characters are the ones for which this issue is immediately noticeable, almost every enemy in the game has this issue too, which means that bosses feel stilted and unthreatening.
There's more: back when the games were 2D, there was a clear distinction between foreground and background due to distinct rendering styles (X6 is arguably an exception, but it's not a bar for quality). When everything is 3D and stuff flies into and from the background, that distinction is a lot harder to make, resulting in stages that are more difficult to read, and hits or deaths you would have seen coming from a mile away before.
This is also an issue with lighting, color, and the use of perspective. For the former two, 2D games enjoyed well-defined color palettes with defined edges between one stage element and the other. You could see spikes in your peripheral vision as soon as it entered the screen, thanks to their marked shape framed by the clearly understandable platforms, whereas now they blend into details on floors and walls. Details which, by the way, you wouldn't normally see, if not for the use of perspective to accentuate that yes, this is a 3D environment you're looking at! It looks pretty, but adds more noise and makes distances harder to parse compared to the 2D analogues.
The PS2 itself factors in, its relatively low processing power for a 3D console contributing to the limited visuals, slower pace, loading times, etcetera. Only after all that, then you have the design issues, including the camera that seems like it belongs in an RPG of sorts. But forget about the camera for a moment, and look at everything else that comes before it. Can a good Mega Man X game come out of that mess? It can't. And that's what X8 ultimately felt like: a sequel that removes the 3D gameplay from X7, but keeps most of the other problems.
Which isn't to say the game is an exact copy of X7, it did bring new ideas to the table, among which are some very cool ideas and some terrible ones. On the good camp, characters have been reworked and are much more interesting this time around. All of them are available from the start, and power ups are no longer restricted to the character that picks them up. Each of their main gameplay issues have been solved, as well.
X is now back to having two armors, the Hermes and Icarus armors, both of which are crazy powerful and can be mixed and matched if you feel like it. The downside is that they're ugly as heck, but I'll take it after X7's pretty but anemic Glide Armor. His charge shot is back to being good, since it covers a larger part of the screen and there is no lock-on mechanic anymore. This also means Axl loses the spot of top ranged character, but as he can now hover for an extended period of time as well as control the direction of his shots, he finds himself a niche in shooting things outside of their attack ranges.
Something that also helps Axl is a newly added mechanic where switching characters allows the character in the back to restore HP, encouraging the player to not focus on a single protagonist. Still, I prefer having Zero in the back, who still feels sluggish compared to his X4 incarnation, but his Z-Saber now reaches farther, and if it doesn't fit your playstyle, he can collect other weapons to use, like a glaive and a hammer. It's all very stylish, and while I personally stuck to the Z-Saber, I hear the extra weapons are legitimately useful on the Hard difficulty setting.
That said, to get those weapons, you have to go through the upgrade system, and this is where things gets stupid. X8 decided just picking up the upgrade in a stage was too easy. Not only did they make the acquisition methods convoluted -- I don't think most of these are possible to figure out without a guide -- but you also have to grind metals in stages to be able to equip them.
How grindy is it? About a third of my final playtime was spent away from the controller while the shoot button was held down and Axl farmed metals for me. There are faster methods than the AFK one, but it's still hours worth of farming, and you have to do it to get all the upgrades. To add insult to injury, extra lives also have to be bought with metals: the EX-tank is gone, the game is back to booting you to stage select on a game over, and if you want to have more than two lives, you're going to have to fork over those valuable metals.
It's an awful system. Better than rescuing reploids for upgrades and having to redo stages over and over, I guess, but still awful. And then again, you still have to do that, since backtracking is at its worst since X5. In fact, X8's stage design is centered around frustration more than anything else. There are two Ride Chaser stages that play like X7 stages on steroids and can just eff right off. There's a Ride Armor stage that's infuriating in how the armor handles, and in the wonky stage gimmicks that force you to retry dozens of times. There are spikefests that call to mind all of the innate issues to the game I've mentioned above. It's all awful.
There's also a ranking system for the stages, NG+, multiple navigators you can experiment with on stages, but god, I am not submitting myself to this game one more time, and neither should anyone. Mega Man X8 is a sad attempt to salvage the franchise, and puts a long-delayed end to a franchise that kept going for at least three games too long.
The result was a tedious mess with a long list of issues, which includes: awkward physics that create problems not only during fights, but while climbing and moving around on platforms. 3D animations that are just not as snappy as 2D -- achieving that requires a lot of polish -- resulting in a game that feels slower overall. Characters feel unresponsive, as attack animations are far longer and unnecessary additions such as turning animations are added. In fact, while the playable characters are the ones for which this issue is immediately noticeable, almost every enemy in the game has this issue too, which means that bosses feel stilted and unthreatening.
There's more: back when the games were 2D, there was a clear distinction between foreground and background due to distinct rendering styles (X6 is arguably an exception, but it's not a bar for quality). When everything is 3D and stuff flies into and from the background, that distinction is a lot harder to make, resulting in stages that are more difficult to read, and hits or deaths you would have seen coming from a mile away before.
This is also an issue with lighting, color, and the use of perspective. For the former two, 2D games enjoyed well-defined color palettes with defined edges between one stage element and the other. You could see spikes in your peripheral vision as soon as it entered the screen, thanks to their marked shape framed by the clearly understandable platforms, whereas now they blend into details on floors and walls. Details which, by the way, you wouldn't normally see, if not for the use of perspective to accentuate that yes, this is a 3D environment you're looking at! It looks pretty, but adds more noise and makes distances harder to parse compared to the 2D analogues.
The PS2 itself factors in, its relatively low processing power for a 3D console contributing to the limited visuals, slower pace, loading times, etcetera. Only after all that, then you have the design issues, including the camera that seems like it belongs in an RPG of sorts. But forget about the camera for a moment, and look at everything else that comes before it. Can a good Mega Man X game come out of that mess? It can't. And that's what X8 ultimately felt like: a sequel that removes the 3D gameplay from X7, but keeps most of the other problems.
Which isn't to say the game is an exact copy of X7, it did bring new ideas to the table, among which are some very cool ideas and some terrible ones. On the good camp, characters have been reworked and are much more interesting this time around. All of them are available from the start, and power ups are no longer restricted to the character that picks them up. Each of their main gameplay issues have been solved, as well.
X is now back to having two armors, the Hermes and Icarus armors, both of which are crazy powerful and can be mixed and matched if you feel like it. The downside is that they're ugly as heck, but I'll take it after X7's pretty but anemic Glide Armor. His charge shot is back to being good, since it covers a larger part of the screen and there is no lock-on mechanic anymore. This also means Axl loses the spot of top ranged character, but as he can now hover for an extended period of time as well as control the direction of his shots, he finds himself a niche in shooting things outside of their attack ranges.
Something that also helps Axl is a newly added mechanic where switching characters allows the character in the back to restore HP, encouraging the player to not focus on a single protagonist. Still, I prefer having Zero in the back, who still feels sluggish compared to his X4 incarnation, but his Z-Saber now reaches farther, and if it doesn't fit your playstyle, he can collect other weapons to use, like a glaive and a hammer. It's all very stylish, and while I personally stuck to the Z-Saber, I hear the extra weapons are legitimately useful on the Hard difficulty setting.
That said, to get those weapons, you have to go through the upgrade system, and this is where things gets stupid. X8 decided just picking up the upgrade in a stage was too easy. Not only did they make the acquisition methods convoluted -- I don't think most of these are possible to figure out without a guide -- but you also have to grind metals in stages to be able to equip them.
How grindy is it? About a third of my final playtime was spent away from the controller while the shoot button was held down and Axl farmed metals for me. There are faster methods than the AFK one, but it's still hours worth of farming, and you have to do it to get all the upgrades. To add insult to injury, extra lives also have to be bought with metals: the EX-tank is gone, the game is back to booting you to stage select on a game over, and if you want to have more than two lives, you're going to have to fork over those valuable metals.
It's an awful system. Better than rescuing reploids for upgrades and having to redo stages over and over, I guess, but still awful. And then again, you still have to do that, since backtracking is at its worst since X5. In fact, X8's stage design is centered around frustration more than anything else. There are two Ride Chaser stages that play like X7 stages on steroids and can just eff right off. There's a Ride Armor stage that's infuriating in how the armor handles, and in the wonky stage gimmicks that force you to retry dozens of times. There are spikefests that call to mind all of the innate issues to the game I've mentioned above. It's all awful.
There's also a ranking system for the stages, NG+, multiple navigators you can experiment with on stages, but god, I am not submitting myself to this game one more time, and neither should anyone. Mega Man X8 is a sad attempt to salvage the franchise, and puts a long-delayed end to a franchise that kept going for at least three games too long.
These are the PSP ports of Rondo of Blood and Symphony of the Night that came bundled with Castlevania: The Dracula X Chronicles on the PSP. Supposedly, they run on the PS4's own PSP emulator, which is why this collection never got ported anywhere else: because it isn't actually a port.
It's also why it's pretty barebones, with no extras, save states, rewinds... It doesn't even include Dracula X Chronicles itself. It at least has trophy support, and the trophy list for SotN showcases a lot of nifty stuff about the game. It also, surprisingly, has no input lag that I could notice: everything runs pretty smoothly and responsively.
Well, there is one huge issue, which is that moves that rely on d-pad button sequences, such as Alucard's spells and most of the special moves for characters in both games are incredibly hard to pull off in this version, apparently due to a change on how inputs are handled that requires extreme precision and timing. This changes how the games are played: spells are now an unreliable mechanic, moving around with the bat is sluggish, and Richter mode in SoTN is infuriating.
I'd say if you get it on a sale, and you're aware of the aforementioned issue, it's worth it for SotN alone. But I do think the collection could have been done better.
It's also why it's pretty barebones, with no extras, save states, rewinds... It doesn't even include Dracula X Chronicles itself. It at least has trophy support, and the trophy list for SotN showcases a lot of nifty stuff about the game. It also, surprisingly, has no input lag that I could notice: everything runs pretty smoothly and responsively.
Well, there is one huge issue, which is that moves that rely on d-pad button sequences, such as Alucard's spells and most of the special moves for characters in both games are incredibly hard to pull off in this version, apparently due to a change on how inputs are handled that requires extreme precision and timing. This changes how the games are played: spells are now an unreliable mechanic, moving around with the bat is sluggish, and Richter mode in SoTN is infuriating.
I'd say if you get it on a sale, and you're aware of the aforementioned issue, it's worth it for SotN alone. But I do think the collection could have been done better.
Symphony of the Night didn't just change the Castlevania franchise, it solidified the genre that is now known as a Metroidvania. It is a pivotal game in gaming history. Breaking away from the series's tradition, it transformed Dracula's castle into a huge, nonlinear, sidescrolling map, and added RPG elements into the mix, a new formula that would be copied for decades to come.
The game features Alucard, Dracula's son returning from CVIII, breaking into Dracula's castle to stop his dad from getting resurrected again. Let me just say that Alucard is the coolest Castlevania protagonist, both in concept and appearance. Both his relationship to the antagonist, as well as his spritework and how way he moves in a floaty, supernatural way, are one of the most striking parts of the experience.
And the protagonist is especially important because, like Rondo of Blood before it, Symphony of the Night takes a step further towards fleshing out the narrative for CV games: there's other characters around the castle, there's cutscenes, there's a twist, there's multiple endings... Combine them with the new level design and gameplay systems, and it's impossible to look at later CV games and not see how much of SotN is in them.
However, replaying it in 2022, it's hard not to see the rough spots, too, and how later games would do SotN's formula way better. It hurts to see how the game's balance is completely wacky: some sections and bosses are too hard, others too easy. There's intimidating, but completely unthreatening enemies, while some puny ones can deal massive damage, and attacks that go through walls are a dime a dozen. Equipment you get is all over the place in terms of stats. Etcetera.
All of these issues are compounded in the inverted castle, and/or when playing as one of the alternate characters. The inverted castle is a pretty cool idea, but it's less fun to play than I remember. There's no real progression, since you enter it with all of Alucard's powers already unlocked, and enemy compositions are completely random. Plus, you spend a lot of time as a bat, since there wasn't that much thought put towards traversal while on the ceiling.
Still, considering how much of a departure it was from the usual CV formula, and how many new things it tried, it's incredible how much SotN got right on the first try. It's still a very solid game, even in 2022.
The game features Alucard, Dracula's son returning from CVIII, breaking into Dracula's castle to stop his dad from getting resurrected again. Let me just say that Alucard is the coolest Castlevania protagonist, both in concept and appearance. Both his relationship to the antagonist, as well as his spritework and how way he moves in a floaty, supernatural way, are one of the most striking parts of the experience.
And the protagonist is especially important because, like Rondo of Blood before it, Symphony of the Night takes a step further towards fleshing out the narrative for CV games: there's other characters around the castle, there's cutscenes, there's a twist, there's multiple endings... Combine them with the new level design and gameplay systems, and it's impossible to look at later CV games and not see how much of SotN is in them.
However, replaying it in 2022, it's hard not to see the rough spots, too, and how later games would do SotN's formula way better. It hurts to see how the game's balance is completely wacky: some sections and bosses are too hard, others too easy. There's intimidating, but completely unthreatening enemies, while some puny ones can deal massive damage, and attacks that go through walls are a dime a dozen. Equipment you get is all over the place in terms of stats. Etcetera.
All of these issues are compounded in the inverted castle, and/or when playing as one of the alternate characters. The inverted castle is a pretty cool idea, but it's less fun to play than I remember. There's no real progression, since you enter it with all of Alucard's powers already unlocked, and enemy compositions are completely random. Plus, you spend a lot of time as a bat, since there wasn't that much thought put towards traversal while on the ceiling.
Still, considering how much of a departure it was from the usual CV formula, and how many new things it tried, it's incredible how much SotN got right on the first try. It's still a very solid game, even in 2022.
This is an okay collection. There's been plenty of care put towards spotlighting the games' concept art, lore and soundtracks, plus there's trophy support. There's not much else, though, and the emulation for the SNES games is kinda iffy. The PS4 version wasn't too bad, apart from a few hard jumps, but I hear on the Switch it is atrocious.
Anyway, most of the good games in the franchise are in this volume, so if you're only going to buy one, buy this one. Incidentally, some people will present the fact that this collection is split in two volumes as a minus, but I say that being able to have X4 on my console while not wasting a single byte with X6 is actually a plus, and Capcom should be commended for it.
Although, that's not exactly true, there is something from X6 still. In both volumes, you'll find this extra mode called the X Challenge, which is basically a series of battles where you, as a beefed up X with a limited selection of boss weapons, fight a combination of any two bosses from any of the 2D games at once.
It's a cute idea, and it's interesting to see all these bosses from different games together, but it's better on paper than in reality. For one, "any of the 2D games" unfortunately means that X6 bosses are here, so expect to fight garbage like Shield Sheldon, Infinity Mijinion and High Max during your futile attempts to have fun.
Whether the Mavericks come from the lesser games or not, these tag battles don't feel fair most of the time, as two enemies attacking at once tend to cancel each other's safe spots and lead to a lot of forced damage. That's especially true when fighting king picks like Iris + Double, or Magma Dragoon + Neon Tiger.
On the other hand, sometimes it doesn't feel fair for the bosses. Dunking on X bosses with the air dash and plasma shots is just too cruel: they're about as ready for that as X6 was ready to ship. Overall, balance feels extremely off, and boss duos seem to have been picked based on style rather than interesting interactions.
It would probably have been more interesting to have an X Challenge with X~X3 bosses and mechanics in one volume, then X4-X6 in another, as well as having single boss fights back to back or with handicaps instead of fighting two unrelated enemies at once. Too late now, though...
Anyway, most of the good games in the franchise are in this volume, so if you're only going to buy one, buy this one. Incidentally, some people will present the fact that this collection is split in two volumes as a minus, but I say that being able to have X4 on my console while not wasting a single byte with X6 is actually a plus, and Capcom should be commended for it.
Although, that's not exactly true, there is something from X6 still. In both volumes, you'll find this extra mode called the X Challenge, which is basically a series of battles where you, as a beefed up X with a limited selection of boss weapons, fight a combination of any two bosses from any of the 2D games at once.
It's a cute idea, and it's interesting to see all these bosses from different games together, but it's better on paper than in reality. For one, "any of the 2D games" unfortunately means that X6 bosses are here, so expect to fight garbage like Shield Sheldon, Infinity Mijinion and High Max during your futile attempts to have fun.
Whether the Mavericks come from the lesser games or not, these tag battles don't feel fair most of the time, as two enemies attacking at once tend to cancel each other's safe spots and lead to a lot of forced damage. That's especially true when fighting king picks like Iris + Double, or Magma Dragoon + Neon Tiger.
On the other hand, sometimes it doesn't feel fair for the bosses. Dunking on X bosses with the air dash and plasma shots is just too cruel: they're about as ready for that as X6 was ready to ship. Overall, balance feels extremely off, and boss duos seem to have been picked based on style rather than interesting interactions.
It would probably have been more interesting to have an X Challenge with X~X3 bosses and mechanics in one volume, then X4-X6 in another, as well as having single boss fights back to back or with handicaps instead of fighting two unrelated enemies at once. Too late now, though...
1998
I can just link my review of Wario Land 3 here and say 2 feels exactly like the previous draft of that game. Most of the mechanics from 3 were actually created here: what 3 did was change secondary systems, such as stage structure and character progression. However, those are changes that elevated the game to a new level, and while I also like 2, it's not my favorite.
There are, if my notes don't fail me, exactly six exceptions, other than which every stage in WL2 is linear and has exactly one exit and one treasure to be found. A lot of extra rooms exist, which does give some room for exploration and puzzles, but the only thing in them is coins, and considering only one route is relevant to complete the stage, they can be skipped.
Coins are however, necessary to obtain treasures and map pieces, which are required for completion and are locked behind rather costly minigames. This turns the game into a bit of a grind, with coins feeling like they're there more to pad the playtime than anything.
Wario Land 2's greatest flaw, however, is in the secret exits to stages. In six out of the fifty stages there are secret exits, and while the game tells you in which stages they are, they're downright impossible to find without a guide. Butt-stomp this ordinary-looking tile, throw an enemy against that ordinary looking wall, and so on.
It's all stuff you wouldn't try unless you knew about it, and this is a problem because half of the total stages in the game are locked behind those exits. If you can't find them, you'll miss out on a large portion of the game.
Speaking of butt-stomping and throwing, though, another issue I have with this entry is how character progression is handled, or rather, how it isn't. In Wario Land 2, Wario starts out with all of his abilities unlocked, and the only way you'd know about them is by opening the tutorial screen and memorizing each one, making for a far steeper learning curve than the sequel.
In the end, though, while Wario Land 2 has its problems, I still consider it part of the top cut of Game Boy Games. If you only really have the time to play one game, skip it in favor of the sequel, but 2 is when the foundations of 3 were created, so it's a solid game, as well.
There are, if my notes don't fail me, exactly six exceptions, other than which every stage in WL2 is linear and has exactly one exit and one treasure to be found. A lot of extra rooms exist, which does give some room for exploration and puzzles, but the only thing in them is coins, and considering only one route is relevant to complete the stage, they can be skipped.
Coins are however, necessary to obtain treasures and map pieces, which are required for completion and are locked behind rather costly minigames. This turns the game into a bit of a grind, with coins feeling like they're there more to pad the playtime than anything.
Wario Land 2's greatest flaw, however, is in the secret exits to stages. In six out of the fifty stages there are secret exits, and while the game tells you in which stages they are, they're downright impossible to find without a guide. Butt-stomp this ordinary-looking tile, throw an enemy against that ordinary looking wall, and so on.
It's all stuff you wouldn't try unless you knew about it, and this is a problem because half of the total stages in the game are locked behind those exits. If you can't find them, you'll miss out on a large portion of the game.
Speaking of butt-stomping and throwing, though, another issue I have with this entry is how character progression is handled, or rather, how it isn't. In Wario Land 2, Wario starts out with all of his abilities unlocked, and the only way you'd know about them is by opening the tutorial screen and memorizing each one, making for a far steeper learning curve than the sequel.
In the end, though, while Wario Land 2 has its problems, I still consider it part of the top cut of Game Boy Games. If you only really have the time to play one game, skip it in favor of the sequel, but 2 is when the foundations of 3 were created, so it's a solid game, as well.
2000
Wario Land 3 is one of my favorite games from my childhood, and to this day, between its mechanics, stage structure and world structure, I find it to be an incredibly inventive platformer worth revisiting.
With Wario Land being a platformer branching off of the Super Mario Land series, you'd think you'd know what to expect. A character runs right, jumping from place to place, trying to avoid the gaps and enemies found along the way. But Wario Land 3 has a very important twist that completely changes how the game is played: you cannot die.
No matter how much punishment Wario takes, he'll always get back up, and there are no game over screens. Right off the bat, this takes away the bottomless pits, spikes and autoscroll stages that Mario games use so extensively. After all, if you can't die, none of that has any purpose.
Stages are now designed around exploring, puzzles, and platforming gauntlets where you can fall to the bottom or otherwise get reset to the beginning. As for enemies within the stage, who also cannot kill Wario, they produce different effects on him when they hit him. These effects are cartoonish in nature, and impact Wario's movement, physics and interactions with the scenery.
The most common is a goofy knockback, but he can also be set on fire, made into a ball, made drowsy, made flat, made bouncy... The list goes on. Sometimes, these effects will be used to hamper your progress: while on fire, for instance, Wario will run nonstop, which will easily knock him off platforms if not carefully handled. While flattened, he'll be unable to enter doors or control his jump trajectory, as he behaves like a sheet of paper while in the air.
On the flipside, though, he can set other things alight while he's burning, and the distinct airborne physics combined with the height difference can allow him to access places he wouldn't be able to reach otherwise. This means enemies are not always there as a hindrance, and you need to learn each of their attack patterns and the effect they have on Wario to then judge how you can use them to your advantage and what is the best time to get hit. It's a really cool twist on typical platformers.
Plus, unlike the usual Mario stage, where you walk right to the goal, WL3's stages are open and branching: each stage has four different paths that can be taken to complete it, at the end of which is a treasure chest. To open that treasure, you need to get a key from elsewhere in the stage. Very often, you'll be able to access a key, but not the chest, or vice versa.
That's because not all paths are open on your first visit to the stage. For one, stages change depending on whether it's night or day on the world map, so you might need to pay attention to how certain rooms might look in the absence or presence of sunlight. But most often, paths are blocked by an obstacle that needs to be overcome either by finding a power-up to enhance Wario's abilities, or by finding a treasure somewhere else that alters that stage.
The fact that Wario doesn't have all of his abilities is often cited as a step down by fans of the prequel, but to me, it makes the game so much better, allowing the player to get used to the character, one step at a time, instead of having to open a tutorial screen and memorizing all the skills within. WL3 has a much softer learning curve even though it's a more complex game.
In addition to that, it contributes to the game's non-linearity. sure, there is a minimal stage route to the final boss, and you can rush straight to him if you want to, ignoring other paths. But the way you can move in and between stages gives the game a completely different feel, that’s not only a lot freer, but also a lot more unpredictable, as you never know where you’re headed next.
Which isn't to say the prequel is bad, it's a great game, and they could have gotten away with making that again with new stages, but the fact that WL3 turned out to be such an inventive game is even better. Wario Land 3 is one of the best games on the Game Boy Color, one I recommend to everyone.
With Wario Land being a platformer branching off of the Super Mario Land series, you'd think you'd know what to expect. A character runs right, jumping from place to place, trying to avoid the gaps and enemies found along the way. But Wario Land 3 has a very important twist that completely changes how the game is played: you cannot die.
No matter how much punishment Wario takes, he'll always get back up, and there are no game over screens. Right off the bat, this takes away the bottomless pits, spikes and autoscroll stages that Mario games use so extensively. After all, if you can't die, none of that has any purpose.
Stages are now designed around exploring, puzzles, and platforming gauntlets where you can fall to the bottom or otherwise get reset to the beginning. As for enemies within the stage, who also cannot kill Wario, they produce different effects on him when they hit him. These effects are cartoonish in nature, and impact Wario's movement, physics and interactions with the scenery.
The most common is a goofy knockback, but he can also be set on fire, made into a ball, made drowsy, made flat, made bouncy... The list goes on. Sometimes, these effects will be used to hamper your progress: while on fire, for instance, Wario will run nonstop, which will easily knock him off platforms if not carefully handled. While flattened, he'll be unable to enter doors or control his jump trajectory, as he behaves like a sheet of paper while in the air.
On the flipside, though, he can set other things alight while he's burning, and the distinct airborne physics combined with the height difference can allow him to access places he wouldn't be able to reach otherwise. This means enemies are not always there as a hindrance, and you need to learn each of their attack patterns and the effect they have on Wario to then judge how you can use them to your advantage and what is the best time to get hit. It's a really cool twist on typical platformers.
Plus, unlike the usual Mario stage, where you walk right to the goal, WL3's stages are open and branching: each stage has four different paths that can be taken to complete it, at the end of which is a treasure chest. To open that treasure, you need to get a key from elsewhere in the stage. Very often, you'll be able to access a key, but not the chest, or vice versa.
That's because not all paths are open on your first visit to the stage. For one, stages change depending on whether it's night or day on the world map, so you might need to pay attention to how certain rooms might look in the absence or presence of sunlight. But most often, paths are blocked by an obstacle that needs to be overcome either by finding a power-up to enhance Wario's abilities, or by finding a treasure somewhere else that alters that stage.
The fact that Wario doesn't have all of his abilities is often cited as a step down by fans of the prequel, but to me, it makes the game so much better, allowing the player to get used to the character, one step at a time, instead of having to open a tutorial screen and memorizing all the skills within. WL3 has a much softer learning curve even though it's a more complex game.
In addition to that, it contributes to the game's non-linearity. sure, there is a minimal stage route to the final boss, and you can rush straight to him if you want to, ignoring other paths. But the way you can move in and between stages gives the game a completely different feel, that’s not only a lot freer, but also a lot more unpredictable, as you never know where you’re headed next.
Which isn't to say the prequel is bad, it's a great game, and they could have gotten away with making that again with new stages, but the fact that WL3 turned out to be such an inventive game is even better. Wario Land 3 is one of the best games on the Game Boy Color, one I recommend to everyone.
Rondo of Blood is included in the Castlevania Requiem collection, which I bought for the sake of playing SoTN. I'm not fond of the series pre-Igavania, and I went into Rondo of Blood out of curiosity, expecting to loathe playing it. In the end, I was positively surprised. I often hear it being considered the best traditional Castlevania, and while I'm still not that fond of it, I can see what those people are saying.
Okay, let's get the ugly part out of the way: controlling the playable character feels like controlling a brick. Jumping controls feel stilted, while attack animations are long and stick you in place. Basic action-platformer stuff, like landing on a narrow platform, turning around to attack or jumping in to attack an enemy are made incredibly tough in Rondo of Blood. To make it worse, characters suffer lengthy knockback animations when damaged, after which there are no iframes and you're likely to get hit again.
The game has two playable characters, Richter and Maria, and everyone will tell you to switch to Maria as soon as she's unlocked since, while not free from the game's issues, her moveset features a more flexible default attack, a double jump and a slide move, which beats Richter by a mile. I guess she might have been an experiment with breaking off from traditional series mechanics, but I haven't played CV3 with its multiple characters, so I wouldn't know how much of a step forward she is.
But yes, in terms of character control and playability, the game feels like it's behind many platformers that came before it, and SoTN, which came right after it. And that is weird, because that's the only way in which the game feels particularly dated. Everything else seems pretty smartly designed: for instance, enemies and bosses all have well-telegraphed attacks and discernible patterns you can learn. There are some cheap enemy placements here and there, but I couldn't name any cheap enemies.
Plus, the game features intricate level design: stages are complex and have multiple paths you can take to the end, and in some cases, multiple bosses. The "world map" itself, so to speak, also features more than one path you can take to get to Dracula's Castle. And none of it is the bullcrap kind of secret that requires a guide, it's all possible to find on your own.
Ultimately, playing Rondo of Blood was an interesting trip into video game history, and while it's not my style of game, I can appreciate what it does and I can see how it would please people with certain affinities.
Okay, let's get the ugly part out of the way: controlling the playable character feels like controlling a brick. Jumping controls feel stilted, while attack animations are long and stick you in place. Basic action-platformer stuff, like landing on a narrow platform, turning around to attack or jumping in to attack an enemy are made incredibly tough in Rondo of Blood. To make it worse, characters suffer lengthy knockback animations when damaged, after which there are no iframes and you're likely to get hit again.
The game has two playable characters, Richter and Maria, and everyone will tell you to switch to Maria as soon as she's unlocked since, while not free from the game's issues, her moveset features a more flexible default attack, a double jump and a slide move, which beats Richter by a mile. I guess she might have been an experiment with breaking off from traditional series mechanics, but I haven't played CV3 with its multiple characters, so I wouldn't know how much of a step forward she is.
But yes, in terms of character control and playability, the game feels like it's behind many platformers that came before it, and SoTN, which came right after it. And that is weird, because that's the only way in which the game feels particularly dated. Everything else seems pretty smartly designed: for instance, enemies and bosses all have well-telegraphed attacks and discernible patterns you can learn. There are some cheap enemy placements here and there, but I couldn't name any cheap enemies.
Plus, the game features intricate level design: stages are complex and have multiple paths you can take to the end, and in some cases, multiple bosses. The "world map" itself, so to speak, also features more than one path you can take to get to Dracula's Castle. And none of it is the bullcrap kind of secret that requires a guide, it's all possible to find on your own.
Ultimately, playing Rondo of Blood was an interesting trip into video game history, and while it's not my style of game, I can appreciate what it does and I can see how it would please people with certain affinities.
A lot of expectations fell upon Harvest Moon: A New Beginning as it was the first 3DS-only Harvest Moon. It also wound up the last real Harvest Moon, as its sequel became Story of Seasons in the West and the Harvest Moon name became associated with whatever shovelware Natsume is putting out these days.
Which is ironic, because this iteration took bold new steps for the franchise, putting you in charge of rebuilding not only the a farm, but also the town surrounding it. The setup for the game is the usual: you're a newcomer moving into Echo Village to become a farmer. However, as you get there, you're met with townsfolk departing in search of better opportunities.
As it turns out, the town has become deserted over the years, making it impossible to run a business in it. Your objective is to attract new people to town by constructing new buildings, generating revenue through the farm, winning festivals, among other things, turning the deserted village into a bustling town once again.
This involves assembling blueprints and materials for everything in your farm and the town, and physically placing down each item built. You can fully customize everything: your town has the layout you want it to have, while the farm can be assembled for maximum efficiency or aesthetics -- however you like it. There are multiple types of fields to use, as well as many facilities to build.
The degree of customization the game offers does mean that the town starts out nearly empty, though. If it seems weird to start a Harvest Moon game like that, it's actually not. In my experience, the start for these games is the hardest part, as you have to get to know the entire map and population. A New Beginning lets you slowly get used to the mechanics and your tasks as the town is rebuilt.
It builds a real sense of progress, and also makes it feel like each villager you bring in was someone you wanted to be there, since you have to work for them to move in. That, and the game takes the time to introduce them individually, and let you learn about and befriend each batch before the next one arrives.
Besides, depending on what kind of player you are, it's possible you begin each season by creating long and elaborate task lists for each season, often consulting guides to do so. Having stuff made gradually available, and with clear goals, gives you a bit more room for error, as well as time for unrelated things you might want to do.
Unfortunately, as much as I like the progression, I have to admit its balance is one of the game's greatest shortcomings. The game doesn't want you to go too fast, see, and sometimes it puts arbitrary barriers in your way to slow you down. These barriers are usually items obtained by means of luck (like ores) or, in the worst case, that are only available after certain dates (seeds).
To illustrate how harshly this slows down the game: your main goal is to complete the five Town Restoration Plans. I completed Town Restoration Plan #1 by the end of Spring, #2 during the first week of Summer, #3 in Fall 8th, then #4 in Year 2, Fall 7th. An entire one year wait, simply because one single task in TRP#4 requires a vegetable whose seeds are only available in Y2 Fall.
And during all that time, TRP#5 characters, including the best bachelors in the game, Amir and Sanjay, are locked away from you. Best? Scratch that. The only good bachelors in the game. Neil, Allen and Soseki take pleasure in belittling you, while Rod looks like a child. Amir and Sanjay are the only pleasant ones, but marrying either of them means you won't have a child until Y4, by when it's possible to already have completed the game.
Naturally, ANB doesn't let you marry people of the same sex as you: the Best Friend system is nowhere in sight in this entry, and as of 2022, the series only recently started including these marriages post-launch. It's a shame, more options might have alleviated the marriage issue, and some of the girls are pretty lovable. I still think they could have written men that are less of berating a-holes, though? Just a thought.
Anyway, enough ranting about husbandos. Criticisms aside, I do believe ANB was a huge step forward for the series, and I was sad, later on, to see some of the innovations it brought didn't make it over to Story of Seasons. It does have a slower pace, and that might drive old-time fans away, but those who stay will find that there's a rewarding experience to be had in rebuilding Echo Village.
Which is ironic, because this iteration took bold new steps for the franchise, putting you in charge of rebuilding not only the a farm, but also the town surrounding it. The setup for the game is the usual: you're a newcomer moving into Echo Village to become a farmer. However, as you get there, you're met with townsfolk departing in search of better opportunities.
As it turns out, the town has become deserted over the years, making it impossible to run a business in it. Your objective is to attract new people to town by constructing new buildings, generating revenue through the farm, winning festivals, among other things, turning the deserted village into a bustling town once again.
This involves assembling blueprints and materials for everything in your farm and the town, and physically placing down each item built. You can fully customize everything: your town has the layout you want it to have, while the farm can be assembled for maximum efficiency or aesthetics -- however you like it. There are multiple types of fields to use, as well as many facilities to build.
The degree of customization the game offers does mean that the town starts out nearly empty, though. If it seems weird to start a Harvest Moon game like that, it's actually not. In my experience, the start for these games is the hardest part, as you have to get to know the entire map and population. A New Beginning lets you slowly get used to the mechanics and your tasks as the town is rebuilt.
It builds a real sense of progress, and also makes it feel like each villager you bring in was someone you wanted to be there, since you have to work for them to move in. That, and the game takes the time to introduce them individually, and let you learn about and befriend each batch before the next one arrives.
Besides, depending on what kind of player you are, it's possible you begin each season by creating long and elaborate task lists for each season, often consulting guides to do so. Having stuff made gradually available, and with clear goals, gives you a bit more room for error, as well as time for unrelated things you might want to do.
Unfortunately, as much as I like the progression, I have to admit its balance is one of the game's greatest shortcomings. The game doesn't want you to go too fast, see, and sometimes it puts arbitrary barriers in your way to slow you down. These barriers are usually items obtained by means of luck (like ores) or, in the worst case, that are only available after certain dates (seeds).
To illustrate how harshly this slows down the game: your main goal is to complete the five Town Restoration Plans. I completed Town Restoration Plan #1 by the end of Spring, #2 during the first week of Summer, #3 in Fall 8th, then #4 in Year 2, Fall 7th. An entire one year wait, simply because one single task in TRP#4 requires a vegetable whose seeds are only available in Y2 Fall.
And during all that time, TRP#5 characters, including the best bachelors in the game, Amir and Sanjay, are locked away from you. Best? Scratch that. The only good bachelors in the game. Neil, Allen and Soseki take pleasure in belittling you, while Rod looks like a child. Amir and Sanjay are the only pleasant ones, but marrying either of them means you won't have a child until Y4, by when it's possible to already have completed the game.
Naturally, ANB doesn't let you marry people of the same sex as you: the Best Friend system is nowhere in sight in this entry, and as of 2022, the series only recently started including these marriages post-launch. It's a shame, more options might have alleviated the marriage issue, and some of the girls are pretty lovable. I still think they could have written men that are less of berating a-holes, though? Just a thought.
Anyway, enough ranting about husbandos. Criticisms aside, I do believe ANB was a huge step forward for the series, and I was sad, later on, to see some of the innovations it brought didn't make it over to Story of Seasons. It does have a slower pace, and that might drive old-time fans away, but those who stay will find that there's a rewarding experience to be had in rebuilding Echo Village.
A fun homage to Resident Evil 4 that's a really fun puzzle to boot. It's only a few dollars and does not overstay its welcome.
2005
RE4 changed action games forever, in so many ways. It will forever have a soft spot in my heart, as it was so mind-blowing at its time, it managed to get scaredy-cat me to buy it, even though I was the type of kid to have nightmares about the original games.
There's much that can be said about the game's mechanics -- how good the shooting felt, the memorable boss fights, or how the game balanced itself to keep the difficulty appropriate -- but I think the biggest proof of how good it is is that it's essentially centered around an escort mission, and yet, it's still a fun and beloved game.
More than just a competent action experience, though, it has so much soul. Leon is such a snarky jackass here, constantly quipping at the antagonists, who in turn, along with Ashley and the supporting cast, have so much personality. It's hard not to love it. I hope they don't take any of this away in the remake.
Also, have you seen that rifle reload animation? Hot damn.
Puzzle Quest: Challenge of the Warlords is a match-3 vs turn-based fantasy RPG hybrid. At first, it sounded like the weirdest, most likely to fail mesh of genres ever, but it's actually ingenious. You and your opponent take turns matching pieces on a match-three style board. Matching a certain color gives you mana of that color, and matching skulls deals damage to the enemy. Whoever runs out of life first, loses.
It's pretty strategic: being a class-based RPG, there are a lot of character skills that can be used during battle. Sometimes it's better to forgo immediate damage for a huge chunk of mana, and sometimes it's better to forgo mana for your own skills and focus on snatching mana your opponents need before they do. Plus, it gives the game a decent amount of replayability.
The quest itself is... the writing is not great, and reads off as amateurish. But the real issue is that the game is padded to an unbelievable extent. There's an unbelievable amount of fetch quests in the game, both as sidequests and as part of the main story. "Go kill a monster, then return and kill another". "Go fetch three to five things before we can go after the bad guy". "Go somewhere to get an item, and there will be a surprise ambush on the way like on those eight other quests". So on and so forth.
Especially if you complete all of the side content, it's possible to reach the level cap about halfway through the game, which means that for the other half, the game's combat stagnates. Equipment becomes similarly irrelevant. The RPG systems are only designed to support a game 20 hours shorter.
Which is a shame, because this is otherwise the best match-3 game I've ever played. I wish it didn't grossly overstay its welcome as it does, because with a better and shorter story, this could have been an even more unforgettable experience.
It's pretty strategic: being a class-based RPG, there are a lot of character skills that can be used during battle. Sometimes it's better to forgo immediate damage for a huge chunk of mana, and sometimes it's better to forgo mana for your own skills and focus on snatching mana your opponents need before they do. Plus, it gives the game a decent amount of replayability.
The quest itself is... the writing is not great, and reads off as amateurish. But the real issue is that the game is padded to an unbelievable extent. There's an unbelievable amount of fetch quests in the game, both as sidequests and as part of the main story. "Go kill a monster, then return and kill another". "Go fetch three to five things before we can go after the bad guy". "Go somewhere to get an item, and there will be a surprise ambush on the way like on those eight other quests". So on and so forth.
Especially if you complete all of the side content, it's possible to reach the level cap about halfway through the game, which means that for the other half, the game's combat stagnates. Equipment becomes similarly irrelevant. The RPG systems are only designed to support a game 20 hours shorter.
Which is a shame, because this is otherwise the best match-3 game I've ever played. I wish it didn't grossly overstay its welcome as it does, because with a better and shorter story, this could have been an even more unforgettable experience.
2013
Remember Me is an original IP developed by Dontnod and Capcom in the PS360 generation. It's a game that, ironically, few people remember, but that I find super underrated. It takes place in the year of 2084, when human memories can be digitized, enabling people to share, trade and even sell them. This technology revolutionized human society, which now has it as part of everyone's daily lives.
In the first minutes of the game, you're introduced to the notion of sharing all your memories with someone, either to feel a stronger connection, or to keep close to someone who passed away. Then, to the notion of wiping someone's brain completely so to neutralize them, which is what happens to the protagonist, Nilin.
As we meet her, she's imprisoned, and her memories are being erased in what seems to be a very painful process. A voice reaches out to her, begging her not to submit, and under the guidance of this mysterious man, she breaks out. Remembering only her name, Nilin sets out to recover her past and find out why she was captured.
The world she lives in houses an elite isolated in the reconstructed center of an otherwise devastated Paris, filled with flooded slums that contrast with a gentrified city center. Here, every person has a brain-computer interface called Sensen installed to their spine, and through this interface, memories can easily be added or removed from their minds. The result is a world where memories are treated as a commodity: good memories are sold, often as recreational drugs, and bad memories can be changed or even removed entirely.
It's one of many interesting ideas and thought experiments present the game's sci-fi lore. Another one I like, one that is referenced by the game in several points, is Mnemopolis, a proposal for an utopic city where the thoughts of every person would be shared with everyone else in order to eliminate mistrust among the community. After all, says its creator, fear is a reaction to not knowing what others are thinking, and if you do, then there's no reason to panic.
Mnemopolis is particularly emblematic because the world of Remember Me is one where technology has effectively wiped out personal privacy, and that's whether you want to or not: in the shadows of this neo-Paris roam memory hunters, people whose purpose is to invade others' Sensen, stealing their memories and selling off the loot to their enemies or to information brokers.
"I am a memory hunter. I can know everything about you. And I can make you believe whatever I want. This is my gift. My legacy."
Nilin herself is a highly skilled memory hunter, and more than just take away memories from people, she can also alter them in-place, radically altering a person's allegiances or beliefs. This ties into the Memory Remixes, one of the most fascinating gameplay sections of the game, both in a gameplay and storytelling sense.
You're shown a pivotal memory from someone's mind -- a moment in their lives that defined who they are -- and have to interact with it in order to change what transpired, for instance, by saving/killing someone, or shifting blame, all in the person's mind. It's a novel idea that's very engaging, letting you play the scene back and forth until the result looks like what you want it to be.
Other than remixes, Remember Me is structured much like action games of its time, with linear platforming sections leading to combat sections and cutscenes -- think Uncharted. Each section of the world is intricately detailed, and the game looks phenomenal for its generation while still maintaining a stable FPS. This is true even when there's action going on.
Unlike many of those contemporaries, though, combat in Remember Me is pure melee, and in this, there's another very novel concept the game introduces: the combo customization. In Remember Me, you create your own combos by picking from a list of button sequences and assigning properties, called Pressens, to each attack in the sequence.
The system is a bit intricate, and I'd be lying if I said I remember every detail so many years later, but each hit can either do extra damage, heal Nilin, shave time off skill cooldowns, or enhance effects of subsequent hits in the combo. There's also a multiplier for the effect applied depending on the position it is in the combo.
It might sound like you'd go for more power all the time, but that's actually a fast way to die. Different enemies often require completely different strategies: Some enemies need to be killed fast, but others resist that approach, such as those who deal spike damage and require you to balance damage output with healing. This forces you to be mindful of each hit, of each enemy's positioning, and of your own combo setups.
(Disclaimer: I did play on Hard. I can't say whether Normal allows you to mash to victory -- I suspect it might since I've heard some people say the combo system is useless.)
Now, maybe it sounds like I only have praise for the game, but-- wait, actually, that's true, I do only have praise for the game. Remember Me was just such a solid and novel action experience to me. There was never a moment where I felt cheated, or bored, or felt like the game was leading me nowhere.
If anything, its greatest problem is that I wanted more, especially more memory remixes, but other than that, Remember Me feels like it has everything. Strong worldbuilding, a gripping story, beautiful visuals, fast and deep gameplay, smart use of the setting and lore... And a fantastic main character to boot. Ten-ish years later, I can only hope this game and IP doesn't end up forgotten.
In the first minutes of the game, you're introduced to the notion of sharing all your memories with someone, either to feel a stronger connection, or to keep close to someone who passed away. Then, to the notion of wiping someone's brain completely so to neutralize them, which is what happens to the protagonist, Nilin.
As we meet her, she's imprisoned, and her memories are being erased in what seems to be a very painful process. A voice reaches out to her, begging her not to submit, and under the guidance of this mysterious man, she breaks out. Remembering only her name, Nilin sets out to recover her past and find out why she was captured.
The world she lives in houses an elite isolated in the reconstructed center of an otherwise devastated Paris, filled with flooded slums that contrast with a gentrified city center. Here, every person has a brain-computer interface called Sensen installed to their spine, and through this interface, memories can easily be added or removed from their minds. The result is a world where memories are treated as a commodity: good memories are sold, often as recreational drugs, and bad memories can be changed or even removed entirely.
It's one of many interesting ideas and thought experiments present the game's sci-fi lore. Another one I like, one that is referenced by the game in several points, is Mnemopolis, a proposal for an utopic city where the thoughts of every person would be shared with everyone else in order to eliminate mistrust among the community. After all, says its creator, fear is a reaction to not knowing what others are thinking, and if you do, then there's no reason to panic.
Mnemopolis is particularly emblematic because the world of Remember Me is one where technology has effectively wiped out personal privacy, and that's whether you want to or not: in the shadows of this neo-Paris roam memory hunters, people whose purpose is to invade others' Sensen, stealing their memories and selling off the loot to their enemies or to information brokers.
"I am a memory hunter. I can know everything about you. And I can make you believe whatever I want. This is my gift. My legacy."
Nilin herself is a highly skilled memory hunter, and more than just take away memories from people, she can also alter them in-place, radically altering a person's allegiances or beliefs. This ties into the Memory Remixes, one of the most fascinating gameplay sections of the game, both in a gameplay and storytelling sense.
You're shown a pivotal memory from someone's mind -- a moment in their lives that defined who they are -- and have to interact with it in order to change what transpired, for instance, by saving/killing someone, or shifting blame, all in the person's mind. It's a novel idea that's very engaging, letting you play the scene back and forth until the result looks like what you want it to be.
Other than remixes, Remember Me is structured much like action games of its time, with linear platforming sections leading to combat sections and cutscenes -- think Uncharted. Each section of the world is intricately detailed, and the game looks phenomenal for its generation while still maintaining a stable FPS. This is true even when there's action going on.
Unlike many of those contemporaries, though, combat in Remember Me is pure melee, and in this, there's another very novel concept the game introduces: the combo customization. In Remember Me, you create your own combos by picking from a list of button sequences and assigning properties, called Pressens, to each attack in the sequence.
The system is a bit intricate, and I'd be lying if I said I remember every detail so many years later, but each hit can either do extra damage, heal Nilin, shave time off skill cooldowns, or enhance effects of subsequent hits in the combo. There's also a multiplier for the effect applied depending on the position it is in the combo.
It might sound like you'd go for more power all the time, but that's actually a fast way to die. Different enemies often require completely different strategies: Some enemies need to be killed fast, but others resist that approach, such as those who deal spike damage and require you to balance damage output with healing. This forces you to be mindful of each hit, of each enemy's positioning, and of your own combo setups.
(Disclaimer: I did play on Hard. I can't say whether Normal allows you to mash to victory -- I suspect it might since I've heard some people say the combo system is useless.)
Now, maybe it sounds like I only have praise for the game, but-- wait, actually, that's true, I do only have praise for the game. Remember Me was just such a solid and novel action experience to me. There was never a moment where I felt cheated, or bored, or felt like the game was leading me nowhere.
If anything, its greatest problem is that I wanted more, especially more memory remixes, but other than that, Remember Me feels like it has everything. Strong worldbuilding, a gripping story, beautiful visuals, fast and deep gameplay, smart use of the setting and lore... And a fantastic main character to boot. Ten-ish years later, I can only hope this game and IP doesn't end up forgotten.