When I was around 9 years old, the website I played this on tried to desperately warn me by saying I needed "nerves of steel" for this game. I didn't know what those words meant. 2 minutes later, shit made me freeze up so bad that it felt like brain paralysis. The first episode of Strong Bad's Cool Game for Attractive People was downloading in the background. My family was in the other room, blissfully unaware of what I just stumbled into. And there I was, absolutely frozen in my chair. Presumably, taking a mental note that I should probably be more careful of the internet from there on out. I proceeded to do some research on screamers, memorized how a couple of them looked, and vowed to never be tricked into seeing them ever again.

A couple months later, my friend put headphones on me and started playing that car coffee commercial. I jumped out of the chair before the jumpscare even happened, knowing full well what this was. My research... paid off in the end.

I haven't just mastered you, you fucking piece of shit of a browser game. I've mastered how to dodge them all.

Mega Man 7 had the potential to be the best entry in the whole franchise, by borrowing the best parts of X's formula, and combining them with the more simple structure of the classic gameplay. The more secret-oriented nature of 7 is by far the most obvious X influence, encouraging use of weapons to discover lots of new routes that'll lead you to optional upgrades. It also borrows a little from the Gameboy games, by carrying over the shop, where you can use your acquired currency for more goodies.

The visual aesthetic is wonderfully colorful - far more interesting to look at than what X has been doing imo - the music is on point, and every stage packs its own memorable setpieces, alongside bosses I really enjoyed fighting even without their weaknesses. The localization is the sort of charmingly put together trainwreck that you would expect out of a 90's SNES localization, turning the otherwise whatever dialogue into something a lot more incidentally funny and memorable. The ending also may be one of the rawest moments in this series's history, even if it's totally uncharacteristic in hindsight. All in all, the recipe for an all-time classic is all here, and more or less proves itself as one throughout.

Until you get to the final set of stages. Many things have already been said about this game's finale, so I doubt I have anything original to contribute here. But, when you read the wiki page and find out that they deliberately wanted to make the final boss unbeatable without an Energy Tank, it speaks volumes to the level of balancing that went on here, where they wanted you to tank through it rather than show any use of skill. It may be one of the worst bosses in Mega Man history, and I would honestly recommend at least placing a save state at the beginning of it, so you don't end up using up your E-tanks and weapon energy only to die 80% of the way through.

Mega Man 7 fucks with me, and it seems to fuck with a lot of others. You'd think it's one of the best games in the classic series, but all it takes is that one boss to suddenly convince you it's one of the worst. That's how bad 7's difficulty can be, but it's doubtful you'll see that at first. You'll have a really good time with this one. And then it'll sneak up on you. That one fuckin' bit.

This, uh, really does not feel great to rate 2.5 stars. (bumped it up to 3.5, see last 4 paragraphs for why) Especially since when Evening Star first announced Penny to the world, I was really rooting for them to knock things out of the park, and prove that they don't need to rely on Sega to deliver a fantastic game. Booting this up for the first time, I thought I was in for a slam dunk, like there was no way this would be anything else but a good time. The reality is... somewhere in-between. After playing it, I'm still rooting for Evening Star, but mostly in the sense of hoping that they fix what's currently a very promising, but frankly jank game.

There are technical issues. In the first world, I got softlocked when jumping onto a roof. Thankfully, you can restart from checkpoints. Then there were two other times where I clipped straight through a wall. The first time, it was really amusing because it was actually helpful as a shortcut towards an optional collectible. The other time, it just led to an unfair death. The boss with the ship setpiece was all sorts of wonky, the camera would keep snapping away from Penny onto some random part of the level, leaving me in disarray regarding my current position. At the end of one level, Penny decided to do her victory dance while floating in mid-air.

I'm not usually the type of person that attracts bugs and glitches, because I don't try that hard to experiment in the games I play. Generally, I do my best to follow what they want me to do. So, the fact I was able to run into bugs this easily - not to mention seeing reports of other people having the same issues - makes me wonder if shadowdropping the game this month was a good idea.

Then there's the controls. So, this one seems way more subjective, and it's possible you might not feel these problems as I did. The most generous way to describe playing Penny is "technical." The less generous description would be "Takes some heavy getting used to." Speaking of heavy, the least generous term is heavy. In contrast to what the trailers made me think, getting Penny to soar through these levels was far from an easy task, and has led me to fumble an embarrassing amount of jumps. I counted eight. Eight instances of me just walking off an edge before I was able to press the jump button, and that's when I began to question if I'm starting to get too old for video games. But, no, I'm fairly certain that there's just something slightly off here, but slight enough that I could never quite get used to it.

Having to double tap the attack button for the dash, instead of just giving it its own button, is one questionable example. Sometimes, the dash would not activate if my double tap was too rapid, requiring me to adjust to a slightly more drawn-out timing. I would keep forgetting to do this however, and would keep falling to my death as a result. There were also moments where a whole bunch of enemies ganged up on me, and I would panic by mashing the attack button in order to deter them away. Of course, this would then activate the dash, and cause me to careen off a cliff. The physics on the dash itself feel too overtuned, using it to attempt and reach a platform would often cause me to overshoot it, and because Penny's turning can be heavy, it would be not enough to course-correct my mistake.

By far the worst of it is the rolling move, the one where you get on your yo-yo and can use downhill slopes to gain a ton of momentum and launch off ramps. Again, the trailers made this move look so fun, but as I got to try it myself, I've learned that for some ungodly reason, your directional controls are completely locked during the first 2-3 seconds of using this move. It's only after that, you can start kiiinda moving left and right, but forget about making any sharp turns. The rolling movement is only good for making slight adjustments on linear paths, but otherwise feels really stiff to use, less like a car and more like trying to steer a tank as it tumbles down a hill.

I've tested both the keyboard and the controller, and while controller does feel a little better, it does not flip the entire game feel upside down, and the problems still persist. It's hard to learn, and hard to master. I believe there desperately needs to be a patch to retune the game feel, as what's on offer right now is good enough for a casual run, but would make me rip my hair out if I was trying to perfect it.

And I really do think that a couple touchs-up is all this game needs to rocket into stardom. Have you seen those visuals? Holy shit, dude. You look at the visual design of the menu and think "Oh, whoever made the Sonic Mania menus definitely worked on this", and then you go into the game, and everything's so charming, and colorful, and the main character is so expressive! And the MUSIC, man, the game's hiding its best track for one of the later stages, and I already know I'm gonna be blasting this on loop for the next several weeks.

And I know I've been super harsh on the gameplay, but I can feel it, there's something really special here on those couple instances when the game IS working in your favor. It can be great to swing from one platform to the next, to soar at high speeds, to find little shortcuts and alternate pathways. The combo system in itself looks like a whole different ballpark of skill which I haven't even scratched the surface on, and I would love, LOVE to be able to fully appreciate these things if-!

Fuck, I walked off the edge again.

Update: I opted to do some post-game cleanup, and began to get to gripes with the combo system, thus engaging with the levels in more involved ways by aiming for the high scores. I also took some time to watch a developer utilize the combo system, and was taught that the best way to use the roll move, is to toggle it off by jumping, then readjust your direction, and toggle it back on while still in mid-air. This allows for a significantly higher degree of maneuverability than I previously thought was possible.

Don't get me wrong, I still hold the view that the game's physics could take some fixing up, they're still too finicky for my liking, and at times, feel either unresponsive, or too strict. However, if you're gonna play the game, I would highly advise engaging with the combo system and taking the time to learn as much of it as possible before you proceed through the rest of the game, as this is where I have found the most amount of fun to be had. Doing a 2nd run, the moment I obtained a high score after several tries, pumped my fists and thought "HAHA, YES!!!", that's when I realized "Oh, shit, so it IS fun!" It's just that the learning curve feels higher than it really should, and it took me a 2nd playthrough to really understand it. That's not good. Some people aren't gonna stick around for that long to figure this out. Then again, some people have clicked with the controls far more immediately than others did, so clearly, your mileage may vary.

Is it worth 30 dollars? Ehhh, I'm not so sure about that, I would've rather paid 20 myself. Is it good, though? Sure, but I do think that... it could've handled teaching the player its mechanics a lot better. But if you were to take the time to learn these mechanics yourself, and practice up, I think you could get quite a lot out of this otherwise short game. Give it a try! Perhaps you'll end up feeling proud of the scars it gives you.

Update 2: 5 attempts at getting a high score messed up due to collision bugs. Alright, seriously. This needs work.

An extremely cool version of Link's Awakening. The four inventory slots and the overall faster inventory managment is nice in itself, but the ability to zoom out the game and be able to see several rooms at a time tremendously helps in making the game more navigatable. Sometimes, after playing so many Zelda games where getting lost is the point, it's nice to play a version where it's easy to know where is progress, and where it isn't. It's one of those things where once you experience it here, you wish every top-down Zelda got something like this.

Some minor nitpicks include the pacing of certain cutscenes being more rushed than the original was, so if you care about preserving the original "tone" of the game, the way this version of the game wants to hurry things along may be a slight turn-off for first-time players. I would've also liked there to be a toggle between the original and the Switch version of the music, as the original's OST can get repetitive here and there, and I think the Switch remake massively improved things on that front.

Regrettably, there's more than just nitpicks to be found here, as I'm hesitant to say that this remake was properly tested. Keyboard bindings reset everytime you quit out of the game, and I've noted that there's something a bit off about your sword's hitbox. Whereas in the original I was able to hit enemies diagonally, the range in this version does not seem good enough to risk doing that without getting hit yourself.

By far the worst issue are the random softlocks that may or may not happen after you collect each instrument. The first time it happened, the game saved my progress right after I defeated the boss, so getting back to the instrument was no big deal. The second time, it was not so generous, and all of my progress on the dungeon was completely reset, forcing me to do it again. I lost my motivation to continue playing by then.

Seeing as Nintendo took the game down as of writing this review, I'm not sure if we'll be seeing any patches come in. (Edit: The creator did leave the source code for it though, so maybe somebody else will pick up the slack??) Huge shame, though. We were so close to getting the best version of Link's Awakening to play, with just a little bit more fine-tuning. Now, who knows if it's gonna happen?

Even though I'll always hold fondness for Mario Land 1, there's no doubt that the sequel fixed and improved every aspect of the first game, enough to a point that anybody who liked Mario 3 or World, but wasn't feeling the awkward Mario Land 1 physics, could easily jump into this one and feel right at home.

This is a short, well-made, and aesthetically creative platformer. The odd plot of a "fake goblin Mario" stealing your apparently-existing castle is the cherry on top of the unique set of levels that puts Mario World's harmless but not very memorable setting to shame. I always considered Mario to be at his peak when he leans into the really weird side of his universe, and the Mario Land series was one of the first examples of this, straying away from the expectations of Mario, to do what it wants, how it wants it, even among the more traditional elements found here.

I believe this was also Kazumi Totaka's first major composing project. Next to Koji Kondo, I consider Totaka a very notable composer for the Mario series. Koji often brought the catchy tunes, while Totaka did the same but added a little more weirdness into his work. Even with the limitations of 8-bit composition, you can still feel these odd little uses of instruments that I think really add to this game's soundtrack. It's a great listen, especially the music that plays during the autoscrolling moon level.

I mean, damn, what else I can say? This is a good Mario, and just because it's on the Gameboy, is no excuse for anybody to hesitate to play it. It holds up just as well today as it did back then, a true miracle.

EarthBound may be the winner of the "best game with the worst first impression" award. Getting into this one took at least 4 separate attempts for me. The first 3-4 hours of the game involve you traveling as Ness, all by yourself, with no party members. And I'll be frank, the game was simply not designed for this. Enemies have just as much of a chance to crit shot you as you do them, along with dealing devastating status effects which you have no defense against other than your luck and your ability to trek back to the nearest hospital. You are likely to die, and it is likely to be completely out of your control, even with prep.

Adding to that, you also have to deal with a pitifully low amount of inventory space at first, further compounded by necessary quest items that don't feel like they should be taking up an inventory slot at all. Why does the map have to take one? Along with your ATM Card, and the Sound Stone? That's three inventory slots (maybe two, if you can live without the map) right there that are already hogged for the rest of the game by these things. Is the bike supposed to be a joke item, or an inconsidered waste of space and time? There's a lot going against EarthBound at first... I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to drop it.

Okay, but here's the thing. Push through. Genuinely, sincerely push through if you enjoy classic RPG experiences. Because as soon as you get your second party member and level them up a bit, the meta changes. Now, you've got a mage on your team, an additional set of inventory slots, and a bit more defense and protection against incoming threats. And suddenly, the game actually becomes managable and fun. Well, in bursts.

EarthBound is all over the place like that, like an uneven stock market graph with a line swaying up and down, where you're likely to see the calm after the ensuing difficulty storm. You will have just as many moments where you're in total control of the game, as much as the game will have its moments with you, bringing you down to earth level with bosses that will kick your ass. Although it gets easier over time, there's always that element of a dice roll, where sometimes, you'll just want to depend on those critical hits doing the job for you, but things might not turn out the way you want them to. And if that's not your cup of tea, that's understandable. But I think of it this way. Even if I may not win this time, the luck element does mean that I'm much more likely to win it the next. In contrast to the initial few hours, the rest of the game is about not giving up.

And the theme of "not giving up" is not only examplified through its design mentality, but through its simple and pure story. You are a courageous ragtag team of kids, off on an adventure to save the world. Do not expect the plot to get any more complex than that. What really matters is the usage of RPG gameplay elements and interweaving them into the story of the game, all to tell you just two things: You're getting ever stronger, and ever further away from home.

You'll find yourself counting each landmark you discover, each city or village you stumble into, until the time comes when the game will directly ask you to look back on everything that's gotten you this far. A trip down reminiscing lane. And that's when it'll hit you that this is a story of determination, perseverance. The power of courage, and friendship, and all that shit. Which would normally be a cause to roll my eyes, but EarthBound never uses this as a way to dramatize things and make the story bigger than what it seems. It's almost like a charming children's book, where rather than going on big anime monologues about your friends being your power, it just simply asks you, the player, personally, to never give up. And by leaving it at that, there's something incredibly earnest and sincere about it.

Still, if that's really all that there is to the story, then where is the draw to push through 20 hours of that? The writing is the answer. It's already been said many times that EarthBound had a really damn solid localization for its time, and it holds up just as well today. The NPC's are fuckin' weird in this one, and you'll want to find yourself talking to every single one of them not just for the sake of hints, but just to... take in their oddities and quirks. Take a shot everytime one of them says "Oops!"

EarthBound's writing makes a whole lot of something out of practically nothing by prioritizing surrealism and personality on all counts. Normally, a writer's job would be to make himself sound like multiple differing characters, but in the case of this, every character sounds like one writer. One writer's rambling thoughts, thrown into hundreds of text boxes with reckless abandon, like I'm peering into his very mind. As a result, nothing here feels "real." This is not someone's world made reality, it is a look inside the machinations of Mr. Itoi. And that's what truly makes the game special, once you make sure to roll with that.

Also, a brief shoutout to the final boss, which for its time, was an unbelievable thing to put into your SNES game for kids to play, let alone to see that localized overseas. Sometimes, I see EarthBound as one giant buildup to that single moment. And in a way, I think it further cements its total sincerity of the game's theming. Even though the whole point is to cheer you on and show you the good side of life, it doesn't ignore the fact that there are terrifying things out there.

Summing it up: EarthBound is a simple RPG, coupled with a simple story. Never does that simplicity equal mindlessness. It is a charmingly written game where progression and evolution of your strength and experiences means everything. If you love your numbers going up, and as long as you don't set your expectations to "One of the greatest RPG's ever made", I think you'll warm up to what it's doing and appreciate how straightforward it wants to be. As mentioned, the first couple hours will be rough. Everything else beyond that, will be a pleasant treat, and an adventure to remember.

The remaster does a great job at upgrading the game, while still remaining faithful to its aesthetical style. But looking back at the original, it's no slouch either. Day of the Tentacle's cartoony bouncy art held up really well, leaning into weird twisty abstract rooms that ensure you won't get bored exploring the areas. Taking a look at the concept art gallery sometime is highly recommended, Peter Chan did not fuck around, that man has some serious chops.

On the topic of areas, there are three major ones, as you'll be switching between the past, present, and future in order to influence the events in each time period. As with most point 'n clicks, the game can be seen as a couple dozen locks that require their own particular key to unlock, and after taking some time to familiarize yourself with the layouts, you get into a flow of solving one puzzle only to realize "ah-ha, now I can do that other puzzle", and that loop goes on for a couple hours amongst all the little jokes sprawled about.

The remaster also does something similar to Monkey Island 2's remaster by simplifying the UI into being more context-sensitive, and provides you with a developer's commentary, which gave me some interesting insight into the seemingly pretty free-form development of this game, where the devs kinda just did what they felt like. I can respect that.

Unfortunately, there is no hint system like with the Monkey Island remasters, and so you're gonna have to go back to the old method of trying to figure out what the hell was the mindset of a 1993 developer creating a puzzle that utilizes cartoon moon logic for its solutions, and I don't think you're gonna guess correctly a lot of the time, let alone come to a definitive solution without some amount of trial 'n error, or a "fuck-it" reaction preceded by a Google search. Not every puzzle is like that, but there's enough to offset my enjoyment of a 1st playthrough into caring less and less about engaging my brain into genuinely considering ways to progress.

On the other hand, I've found out that an immediate 2nd playthrough of Day of the Tentacle actually felt more intended than anything I've done in the 1st one. Because now that I've familiarized myself with the solutions, the fun part of Day of the Tentacle becomes optimizing your run into solving as many puzzles as possible before needing to switch between time periods. The open nature of the game's progression means that there's plenty of routes to tackle in plenty of orders, although most likely only one "ultimate" route that is the fastest. But, you can quickly see just how speedrunnable the game becomes, and being able to master a particular route that works for you becomes a very satisfying part of Day of the Tentacle, and the one I enjoyed the most.

Probably the most controversial part of my opinion would be that I don't particularly care for the writing, or especially the voice acting. This is a problem I've voiced for the Monkey 1 remaster, and it is one that I also hold for Sam & Max Hit the Road, and a couple other Tim Schafer games pre-Psychonauts: The voice direction is dull. Extremely dry and monotone.

Aside from Laverne, which I think did a decent job at selling her crazy aspect, barely anybody here is trying anything else but one tone of talking for the whole adventure. This is especially weird for a game that feels very influenced by Looney Tunes, yet lacks any energy required to convey that. All instances where the characters clearly should be yelling, in the very least raising their voice, don't do that. And this has an effect on the jokes themselves, when every character delivers a punchline with the same energy as them talking about the weather. There should be an infectious energy here, I should hear the actors having fun with this writing, and because I don't hear it, I'm not having fun with it myself.

Overall, I think Day of the Tentacle holds up as a classic point 'n click with some serious thought put behind its art, and game design, and the remaster seems like the best way to experience it. However, I think it lacks some pieces that would be required to hook new players in. The lack of a hint system makes it less accessible than the Monkey remasters, and the voice acting, though surely impressive back in 1993 for just being there at all, fails to match the looney aesthetic of the game and causes the otherwise clever writing sound pretty boring. I think every adventure game enthusiast should play this game at least once, as it's always possible it'll click with you more than me, but I viewed it alright at best.

Played using the "Lufia & The Fortress of Doom Restored" romhack. It provided much appreciated QoL such as faster walk speeds, nerfs for the infamously aggressive encounter rate, descriptions for items, and the ability for certain characters to use powerful equipment they weren't allowed to before. Initially, I was worried that last thing would offset the intended difficulty balance, but after beating it, I wouldn't worry. It only applies to the equipment found at the very end of the game, at which point the effort it takes to get it feels deserved, while keeping the difficulty even. This is still a very faithful way to experience the game, allowing you to play Lufia as intended. And that... may be the real problem.

The overall QoL from this romhack made Lufia into a tolerable experience, but... tolerable is pretty much the highest it ever goes. I wouldn't be so ridiculous as to say it's the worst RPG I've played, but even calling it "decent" makes my expression skeeve into a skeptical gritting of teeth, accompanied by a dog-like head tilt. Lufia 1 is the embodiment of chasing a trend in the 90's, about on par with Breath of Fire's attempt in the same year. The most cookie-cutter Dragon Quest clone you could think of. It's uninspired, uncreative, undesiring of doing anything of its own without looking over at its competitors for their fatherly approval over what makes an RPG, while never asking itself "What COULD make an RPG?"

Edit: Reading up a little further on the history of Lufia 1, it's at least worth noting that this was a rare case of a major SNES RPG that actually made it over to the west, in a time where games like Dragon Quest V and Final Fantasy V didn't make it outside Japan due to the genre being seen as a non-profitable niche. To many westerners playing it at the time, it's likely that Lufia didn't feel like a clone of anything, and thus felt quite special. As for me, I have had the chance to experience DQ5 & FF5 beforehand, hence my review was written with that sort of perspective. In a modern age, where you have access to all regions and there's no such thing as an "elusive japan-exclusive" game, Lufia does not carry the magic that it may have carried 30 years ago. Anyway, let's move on.

To its credit, of all the notes Lufia could take, it at least gets close to an engaging combat system. Enemies are no push-overs, and are capable of putting a serious dent in your party. There were plenty occasions where I felt encouraged to experiment with my expanding arsenal of spells, and felt rewarded for taking advantage of certain weaknesses, or developing basic strategies to overcome bosses. Over the course of each encounter with the regular enemies, you quickly learn which ones are more dangerous than others, and you start to actively prioritize getting rid of them as soon as possible.

In addition, Lufia 1 makes the decision to omit auto-targeting. So, if you target one enemy with two party members, but the first party member takes them out, the second member will end up hitting nothing. At first, this seemed like a baffling decision that was antiquated even in the year it came out in, but, I... actually grew to appreciate the element of strategy that this further added into the battles. You can't just mash attack in this game, the efficient way to play is to assign each of your members into specific groups of enemies based on how many you think it'll take to kill each enemy. Sometimes, this even puts the element of risk into the equation. Like, it may take one hit from this party member to kill this enemy, but there's a chance it may take two, so do you want to assign two party members onto this enemy and risk wasting one of them, or should you put them into a different enemy instead? Combine that with the aforementioned prioritizing of more dangerous enemies, and Lufia's combat is... again, to its credit, not mindless!

But even with this saggy ace in its water-soaked sleeve, Lufia is still a very grindy game at its core, and my appreciation for its combat was worn down before I even got halfway through. All that was left then, was everything else, and that might as well mean fuck all. The music? It's whatever. The variety? There is none. There are exactly four types of areas to be found: Grassy town, cave, tower, and castle. Though at one point the game pulls out an underwater cave, and the change in scenery almost made me rocket up into the sky and explode like a firework. And then it was back to those four types of areas for the rest of it. All of them sharing the same music, the same appearance, the same treasure chest hunting loop. Just a rearranged layout and a different color palette being the main difference amongst these approx. 100-150 boring-ass locales.

I don't exactly hold the story in any higher regard, though one thing that confuses me is I've seen at least two instances of the dialogue/localization being called laughably bad, and, I don't... see it? In fact, the localization looks to be perfectly servicable, clearly translated by an english-speaking guy. Is the case that the translation took out important pieces of dialogue out of the script and removed nuance that was originally there in the japanese version? Going through the story, I can't say anything felt missing, or out of place, but perhaps there's more to this than I'm aware of.

But, as far as nuance goes, yeah, there's just none to take away from this. Your main character's a bit of a clueless bumbler, Aguro & Jerin are just in it for the ride, while Lufia, the titular character, for all the importance she's given, can underwhelmingly be summed up as little more but a stereotype. She fights well alongside you, which is the one neat thing, but boy howdy does she love flowers, and shopping, and baking pies, and yowie, will she get jealous and competitive when you show concern for a half-elf with a kid's psychique- wait, what the fuck?

There was only one reason I bothered playing Lufia 1 at all. And much like the age-old question of "Why did the chicken cross the road," here too my reasoning is "to get to the other side." And on the other side, lies Lufia 2, the holy grail. It's the one game that everybody familiar with the Lufia franchise recommends, for some curious reason. Whether playing Lufia 1 or not is paramount to understand the continuity of its sequel - if there is a continuity - is a question I've yet to have an answer for, but I figured I'd cover the bases. Perhaps remind me after I beat Lufia 2, to update this review and answer whether playing this first game was worth it at all. But for now, something tells me, no. No, it was not. The process of forgetting everything about Lufia & The Fortress of Doom, begins... now.

My results screen

(Due to an update that added a map feature, this review and my thoughts on the game are now outdated. Might rewrite this sometime in the future.)

Every good 3D platformer has "that one move." You know the one, the one that gives you a lot of distance, speed, and the ability to perform some wild shortcuts. Pseudoregalia knows this, and it knows that that shit rocks, and so the entire game is made around this feeling.

I really liked the open-ended structure of the game. Like everyone else, I was also a big fan of the Mario 64-like moveset, which allows you to find crafty solutions towards platforming challenges, some of which don't feel intended at all. There's a huge amount of versatility here, and an impressive amount of orders to tackle the world in. The music's pretty alright as well, and I enjoyed the N64 aesthetic. Its simplicity makes it very readable, and perfect for a game this reliant on nailing acrobatics.

As much as playing the game was fun, what I really struggled with was the idea of finishing it. We're talking about a game the length of two or three huge Zelda dungeons here, a Zelda dungeon where there is no compass or map to speak of. I understand that this was an intentional design choice, but depending on your ability to map things out or the way your intuition guides you, this will either be a smooth sailing experience, or an intensely frustrating slog. And as you cover more of the game's areas, the more likely the chances will be that you'll start running around in circles trying to figure out where was that one singular room that you missed.

Aside from my sense of direction being dogshit, I think it doesn't help that the game has a ton of doors leading in all sorts of direction, and not enough landmarks to distinguish where exactly are you. As you re-enter a room, you have a general sense of familiarity that you've been here before, but it'll be much more difficult for you to determine where you haven't. I understand not everyone agrees that this game should have a map, but I respectfully believe it should've been an optional thing in the Accessibility settings at least. Something that fills out as you go along, but doesn't show you the full picture. There's only so much fun I can have with the game's platforming, before I start getting anxious if I'm ever gonna find a way to progress or if this is as far as I'm ever gonna make it.

I've heard the developer is gonna be adding a map in soon, though, and I really appreciate that. I love Metroidvanias, but I cannot bear playing one without some degree of navigation. Part of what I love about these games is being able to chart a course once I get familiar with a majority of the map, like I'm a sea captain. Without a course to chart, I'm drifting across a lonely sea, without a goal to speak of, and that makes me no captain at all. There is appeal to "the sensation of being lost," but I can't really see it working in a Metroidvania game where you still have to hunt down that one ability in that one corner of the map. When the game starts asking me to stop being lost, but provides me no means to do so other than relying on my crappy memory.

In the end, much of this game's problems are actually my problem, but I can see it being a lot of other people's problems as well. Once that map gets added though, I could easily see myself bumping this game's rating up to 4 stars. I loved playing it. Without a map, I did not enjoy having to beat it.

All 5 of the Dragon Quests I've played so far have two major goals in mind with each entry. One is to expand the scope of the world, the other is to introduce further mechanical combat depth while still being firmly rooted in its cozy, simple to pick up gameplay. DQ5 succeeds in both, with a whopping runtime of 35-40 hours, the longest it's been yet. I knew not to expect huge changes, this isn't Final Fantasy. "Dragon Quest, but bigger" is up my alley as long as there's a good diversity of content, and this one makes good use of the SNES to bring a larger variety of places and events that should keep you engaged.

It's just a shame that the series is so heavily focused around scale and combat depth, but five entries in and it's still heavily neglecting quality of life improvements. Don't get me wrong, there are some fixes here! You can actually see the stat differences on armor/weapons while browsing shops, your party finally auto-targets enemies that are alive instead of trying to hit ones that are already dead, there's a dedicated button to talking to NPC's instead of having to use the command menu, medals don't take up inventory space, and the Tactics system is back as an option, instead of something that you're forced to use.

The problem is that Dragon Quest has been drip feeding its QoL from day one, and after playing 5 of these suckers, you really find yourself thinking they could've used that extra year of development time to address some of other bigger inconveniences that really should've been fixed by at least DQ4. The survival horror inventory, the encounter rates, the sluggish movement, inability to buy stuff in bulk, consumables not stacking, the repetitive town music, it's all still a problem here. The developers have used the SNES to deliver a greater sense of scale, but the overall systems and presentation still have the antiquation of an NES RPG.

Because of this, I've found myself getting more annoyed with this Dragon Quest than either DQ3 or DQ4. I'm by no means getting tired of the formula, which is as pleasant as ever. But I am getting weary of the lack of convenience that could elevate this formula even higher. It'd be nice to have less reasons to rely on the fast forward button, y'know? My time is limited too, and though I'm willing to give an RPG much more patience to prove itself than other genres, there are limits if my character's gonna spend these 40 hours walking at just above a snail's pace.

With that out of the way, it's not all doom and gloom with this game. The story is the strongest it's been yet. The generational structure, combined with the looming threat that approaches ever sooner, gives the game some very strong and impactful moments as time becomes out of your control. It also likes to play around with the conventions of RPG storytelling much like DQ4 did with the merchant chapter. Placing you in the shoes of someone else but the hero, and doing a couple fun things with it, almost bordering on meta.

My only gripe is that the main villain does not come anywhere close to the impact of those individual moments, and was so generically evil, that a week later and I don't remember who they were, what was their name, or what they looked like. Which ultimately, causes the finale of the game to fall flatter than the rest of it, like it's yet another Dragon Quest final boss, with yet another two phases, and one more "How can this be...!" speech on top of the pile.

The game also introduces a monster recruitment system, a prototype Pokemon of sorts. This is where the increase of combat depth comes from in this one, as certain important spells can only be obtained via these monsters, and there is no guarantee you'll get them. After all, recruiting monsters isn't something you can control, it's a random event that may happen at the end of every battle. What makes this more confounding is that only certain monsters can be recruited, and if you're not using an online guide, you won't be able to tell which. Let alone the fact that some of these monsters have a mere 1/4 chance to be caught, but some of them can be a 1/64, or even 1/256, necessitating the use of very heavy grinding if you really want them all. But I wouldn't recommend it. Something I've quickly learned about DQ5, is that it's a much better game if you just let luck take its course, and see what sort of recruits you accidentally stumble upon, instead of trying to gain the system to catch'em all. I'm sure the point was that on subsequent playthroughs, you could get some monsters that you didn't get before. Some of them, people have never seen in their life, but perhaps you might be the one who did... and that's the appeal.

Another reason to not grind for recruits, is because you eventually find out that certain 1/4 recruits are extremely competent at their jobs, more than enough to beat the game and its secret optional boss. The game is always balanced around giving you the right recruits for the right sequences, while the rarer stuff is just something for insane, or very lucky people to get. Unfortunately, while RPG's are generally about just choosing the one thing that works for you the most, I do wish I was incentivized to switch my monsters around more. Some of the recruits completely paled in comparison to the one that I warmed up to using for the rest of the journey, the Golem. An absolute beast of a tank, that had better stat growths, defense, and attack power than any other recruit I received, yet through its 1/4 chance of recruitment, was very easy to obtain.

And I mean, it's cool at first, but it makes you retrospectively look at the entire recruitment system and realize just how uneven so much of it is, with so many recruits that you're gonna try out for an hour and then switch back to the Golem every single time. There are many mediocre recruits. And there are only two or three really good ones. As for the rest, prepare to grind for hours if you ever wanna see them, but why do that if Golem exists? Personally, if there was a better system implemented that didn't require on just pure RNG chance, and allowed me to have better control over how I recruited monsters, DQ5 wouldn't have needed to run into the problem of having to compromise its own system by just giving you the best shit through the lowest possible amount of effort.

This review has been kinda all over the place, which is exactly how I view DQ5. A game that shot for some really big things, a game that I'm pretty sure I enjoyed throughout most of my runtime, but I kept asking "Man, wouldn't it better if they did it like this?" Outdated design just comes with the territory when you're playing an early SNES RPG, but when you make your world way more huge and sprawling, you can't just leave your NES jank as is, you gotta speed it up to accommodate this kind of scope. I don't think I'm gonna touch the original version of this game again, however, I get the strong feeling that all of my gripes will be addressed by the time I get to the DQ5 remakes. It is then that my praise for the story and the monster recruitment system is likely gonna outweigh my amount of complaints.

Yo, this one rules. Konami, what the hell was going on with you and the Genesis? Your development team was off their shits with these titles. And that includes Castlevania: Bloodlines, which takes advantage of every programming trick possible to create one of the most stunning games available on the system. Whether you're looking for crazy rotatey effects, bosses made up of like a dozen individual parts, or illusions that create the effect of climbing a wobbly tower, Bloodlines is determined to impress you, to look as top of the line as it could be back in 1994.

Bloodlines plays much like the previous Classicvania games, and that does unfortunately include the lack of Castlevania IV's mid-air control. But, somehow, the deliberately stiff controls here manage to feel a lot tighter than Rondo of Blood, alongside the overall pacing throwing tons of new shit at you for every new room you visit. Bloodlines manages to pull off a paradoxical feeling of strategic slow pacedness, combined with the frantic setpieces of Contra that make you forget about the game being slow at all. At which point, your time never feels wasted, and your engagement is at a consistent high.

Bloodlines also lets you select from two characters, one of which can use their spear to climb up high ledges. I assumed this would've led to alternate routes that only that character could take advantage of, but to my surprise, there weren't any. In fact, Bloodlines is by far the most linear title since Castlevania IV. There are no alternate stages, there's only one path, straight towards the setpieces. Which is completely fine by me, I always enjoy a straightforward experience. But, after playing Rondo & Castlevania 3, the selection of two playable characters might lead you into thinking there's more replayability here than there really is.

Speaking of, there is an instance of contrived replayability, and it is in the form of the true ending being only obtainable via Hard difficulty. Never was a fan of this design, and so I've never went for it. The extra lifes may also be argued as an artificial way to extend the length of the game, as with the case of many other games which employed the tactic back then. Using an infinite lifes cheat code may be preferable for the best experience, unless you're up to the challenge.

This is however, a minor gripe in the grand scheme of things. Bloodlines is still solid as hell. It is one of my favorite Classicvanias. Sometimes I feel it might be better than IV, even without IV's improved controls. A satisfying arcade experience, with some of the best presentation value you could ask for. Highly recommended.

For what it's worth, it's not a bad remake of the first three Mega Man's. Slightly different in terms of feel, but accurate enough that I don't think you'll feel that something's off. Where I think Wily Wars falters is the necessity of its entire existence in today's age. Back in the 90's, if you didn't own an NES and wanted a way to play Mega Man on the Genesis? Sure, this'll more than fill that sweet spot.

But let's say it's 2023, and you now have access to the NES, Genesis, and all the other classic consoles at the same time. Is... Wily Wars worth playing at that point? And I personally don't think that it is, other than once for the sake of a fan's curiosity. Sure, Mega Man 1's difficulty has been slightly adjusted to be more fair, and there's a new campaign you can play, but none of this is enough to stop me from thinking that Wily Wars could've been a lot better than it turned out to be.

I mean, it's a generational leap. We've gone from 8-bit to 16-bit, and we are now more than 4 years into that period as of 1994. Yet, the remakes of Mega Man 1-3 feel like a 1990 launch title, seemingly content with doing the bare minimum of work to touch up the game. Mega Man himself looks good, but the environments still feel like something out of an NES title. Color choices feel washed out. None of this harms the game too hard admittingly, but then there's the converted music, which took the biggest hit of them all. I dunno how you feel about Genesis twang, but there's something about it here that lessens the energy of the music, losing what I thought made the 8-bit chiptunes special.

I get the feeling that the development team had only a year - maybe a few months less - to make this entire compilation. And that lack of time (and perhaps even experience with the system, seeing as they've been making Gameboy titles up until now) results in a remake that I can't help but feel could've been a lot more ambitious in order to show how far we've come since the older days.

As for the new unlockable campaign, it's... also just okay. I commend it for its unique idea of giving you every weapon from Mega Man 1-3, and letting you select your personal favorites for the stages you complete. This is a concept that needs to come back on a much larger scale. But, for now, it rests only within Wily Wars, a campaign with 3 levels and a Wily Fortress which I do not remember a single thing about, other than the fact it reuses assets and enemies from the remakes, alongside a strange and unfitting soundtrack that's too on the cheery side for what I'm used to with this series.

I come out of Wily Wars a plain person. With little of an impression to go on, only an imagination remains of what could've they done to make this remake better. It's not even about making it the "definitive version," because what's on offer plays just fine. It's about making it the unique one. Something that stands on its own ground. Right now, Wily Wars merely exists, neither better nor worse. The NES titles exist too. And those came first, which means that they get my dibs on what I'd rather play.

Kirby gained his identity with this entry. This is what you expect out of the series, the ability to take the abilities of your enemies and use them to your own advantage. Naturally, this is the earliest form of this staple mechanic, so you shouldn't expect Smash Bros-like movesets where holding each direction lets you use a power in a different way. The abilities here come down to one single move, one single advantage. But swapping in and out of them is still just as quick, and even this early on, using each power is encouraged to solve bite-sized puzzles for 1-ups, health items, and the occasional secret button. Of course, you could also just try and stick to one powerup, if you're interested, but that'd mean you wouldn't be taking full advantage of the level design given to you. I won't fault you if you really grow to like that Sword, though, I know I did.

Being a very late NES title, Kirby's Adventure has some wonderful art direction on display. The closer you get to the end, the more you start appreciating the variety of colorful and dream-like backgrounds. This was undoubtfully a team that was ready to work on a SNES title, but had to make-do with making one of the best looking NES games instead.

There is plenty of charm to this game, amongst a relaxing difficulty, a great soundtrack, an exciting final boss, and a couple neat one-button minigames to play around with. Under these circumstances, I'd rate it 4.5 stars at least, but there is one single major flaw that really puts a stain on Kirby's Adventure's otherwise impeccable quality: Unresponsive inputs. In other words, sometimes when you press the jump button... Kirby doesn't jump.

Now, I thought I was crazy at first, because this is barely talked about on the internet. I thought it might've been my controller breaking down, and it was time for a replacement. But, every game I've played before and after this one did not have this problem. And I managed to officially confirm it when I asked my friend to keep an eye out when they played the game themselves, and it turned out they also reported instances of the controls randomly failing to respond.

And this fucks the game up, because it feels completely random and unpredictable when it happens, and it has predictably led to several instances of me running straight into an enemy or a bottomless pit because Kirby did not jump when I pressed the button. There's nothing worse than a game where you cannot trust the controls to do what you want. It may be hyperbolic to call it "unplayable," but it's certainly a big enough annoyance to deter me from wanting to play it agai- oop, hold on.

The GBA remake is out there, and plays overall better, although you'd have to to accept that the art style on that one is way different, and imo did not hold up as well as the NES counterpart. I did however, learn just now that there's a romhack for the NES version that's meant to fix the inputs. So, perhaps this is the definitive way to play the game? I should try it out sometime! Especially since playing the game without it does not seem like a good idea these days.

Link's Awakening is an incredible game for Gameboy standards, and one of my favorite entries in the Zelda series. It does not escape every problem that comes with making a Zelda game for a system with two buttons, and a limited amount of storage space, but I'd say the design of the world heavily outweighs the issues and makes it a must-play if you're looking for some good dungeons to explore, and caves to spelunk.

Oh, right, we're talking about DX. Sometimes, you kinda forget that Link's Awakening was originally a 1993 black and white Gameboy title, as the addition of color in the DX version makes the original pretty obsolete. In addition to that, it contains a bonus dungeon with a very useful powerup, and an optional side quest, that albeit mechanically useless due to its dependence on the Gameboy Camera, still provides some cute art that makes it worth seeking out. In other words, make the DX version your priority, it keeps everything and adds more cool stuff on top.

Despite being an 8-bit title, I was impressed by the translation of Link to the Past QoL features onto it. Your sword still a satisfying sense of range, and with the press of one button, you have access to a full map of the overworld, although in this instance, it fills out as you go along. It'll still ensure that you'll never get lost, and really makes me wonder why Zelda 1 couldn't do this. Was the case that the Gameboy had more powerful specs that allowed for a full map compared to Zelda 1 on the NES? Or was Zelda 1's inclusion of a manual map a fully intentional choice rather than a technical one? Either way, the way Link's Awakening handled it is much more preferable.

The world has an immense amount of locale variety, and each dungeon will challenge you in new ways through each new item it introduces. It's crazy just how close to Link to the Past's quality this game is, if not, in my opinion, even better. It feels like there's less overall empty space in the overworld, in part due to game going back to a grid-based map with each room being a square long, which makes each room feel like it serves more purpose. Perfect for a handheld entry.

Something I find especially enticing about Link's Awakening is the tone of the story itself, which seperates the series from the generic fantasy roots, and strands you within the confines of a mysterious island directly inspired by Twin Peaks. It definitely shows, the NPC's aren't just stilted hint dispensers directly telling you what to do, they're much closer to people with their own lives, with hints disguised behind their troubles, or their curiosity over something they saw recently. But even sometimes, their dialogue isn't about giving you a hint at all, sometimes they're just minding their own business, or doing something weird or silly that doesn't help you at all. And while all of this sounds completely expected for a modern player, believe you me, if you were to play a couple RPG's that were released around this time, the way Link's Awakening handles NPC dialogue would be a refreshing breath of air.

All this makes the moral conundrum of the story that appears within the latter half all the more interesting, as Link's Awakening proceeds to raise an existential question within its latter half, challenging your preconception of what is right, what is wrong, and whether your quest is even worth it. I mean, we're not talking master-class writing here, but because of the strong sense of personality this game exudes, the things it wants to ask yourself hit pretty strong, and as it lets you contemplate this all the way to the final stretch of gameplay, it'll hit all the more strongly. It's a simple, yet powerful story about what are you willing to sacrifice to succeed in your goal, and even if it may make me look stupid, I always tear up a little for its message.

There's a lot of good, but there is a little bit of jank. Firstly, going back to the game having very few buttons to work with, the inventory system takes some getting used to. While Zelda 1 has one slot to equip an item in, Link's Awakening has two, and that includes the slot you equip your sword in. Where this screws up is the impractical implementation of certain equippable items that could've worked far better as context-sensitive-use items. Such as the shield. This did not need to be something you gotta equip for it to work, it could've worked like Zelda 1 where all you do is face towards a projectile to automatically use it.

Ditto for the power gauntlets that let you lift heavy objects, all you needed for that to work is have it activate based on proximity to the object, but instead you gotta equip it first.
Now, generally speaking, you can get away with just keeping your sword on the A button, and whatever current item you need on the B button, but that's still gonna be a whole lot of times where you'll be heading into the inventory to swip and swap and swoop and sweep your items around based on what you currently need, and it surely could've been a lot less with some simplifications of how items work.

Thankfully, the upside to this is that the inventory system is very quick to access, equip, and get out of. Once you get used to it, each inventory-equipping session should take a little less than 3 to 5 seconds.

The second bit of jank pertains to Awakening's random drop items. Occasionally you'll get your usual stuff, like health drops, rupees, and whatnot. But more than often, you might get powerups that double your defense or attack power. What's more, these powerups don't have a time limit on them, they last for as long as you avoid damage, so you could keep them for long amounts of time if you're good enough. Sounds good, right? Okay, now imagine the entire game's soundtrack is replaced by an 8-second jingle that plays on loop for as long as you keep this powerup.

The result is that you eventually start deliberately avoiding these powerups, and everytime you accidentally touch one, you go "fuck!" and proceed to start deliberately taking damage just so that maddening jingle can stop playing. It's like if you played Mario 1 with nothing but the Starman song on loop. This was a very poorly thought out design decision, and should've been represented through a visual change rather than an auditory one.

On the topic of sound, I would also say that the dungeon music doesn't exactly hold up in all the right places. Having a unique song for each dungeon was admirable, but the game being several kilobytes long means that these are all stupidly short loops, and some of them can get quite grating. I think I would've rather preferred this space to be dedicated to a 2-3 minute dungeon song with more variety, and have just that be used for all dungeons. I mean, one of the dungeons literally just has the cave music but sped up, come on guys.

The best way to play Link's Awakening may be subjective, but my recommendation would be this one. You should also consider getting the Redux romhack, which I think fixes the powerup music issue by disabling it, and introduces some other small QoL things. As for the Switch remake, that could probably be a good way as well, but I'm honestly not big on that version's 30FPS, and its excessive use of depth of field. The soundtrack is a lot nicer, though. All in all, I think the Gameboy Color and the Switch remake both have their pros and cons, and you may just wanna play both of them to experience the game from two wildly different perspectives.

The game itself is wonderful, even amid some of its smaller flaws, and some of the best top-down Zelda action you can get. It's smart, chock-full of content, charming to boot, and even a little sad at times. Next to Minish Cap, it's way up there on my top Zelda games.

Yep, it's another one! You've got four stages from Mega Man 3, and four stages from Mega Man 4 here, with different level layouts to tackle. I was shocked to find out from the reviews here that this game's actually pretty hard, which I suppose I wouldn't have known since for this particular entry, I've only ever done casual rewindey runs of it. But it's something to keep in mind if you're planning to go into it raw.

If there's one single thing that got an uplift here, it's the soundtrack. No more of that high-pitched blaring that Mega Man II had, we're back to using Gameboy conversions of the NES songs, and they're done well enough. What's really nice though, are the few original tracks made for this game. I'd like to highlight the Weapon Get theme, the Wily fortress theme, and the credits song as bangers. The credits song especially, which has become one of my favorite Mega Man themes in recent memory due to its combination of catchiness and melancholy feeling. It almost makes playing the whole game worth it. Almost.

Overall, it's okay, and will only satisfy the most hardcore of Mega Man fans from the looks of it. I don't regret playing it myself, but obviously, with the use of rewind, I have a bit of bias here.