TheMaxine
When it comes to the story, it's a notable improvement from the first game's basic premise. It even has a couple beats that Metal Gear Solid 1 & 2 would go on to replicate later, making it kind of like a prototype of Kojima's later ventures. The soundtrack was also a big step-up, in particular the main theme, but the alert music and some of the cutscene tracks are no slouches either.
As for the gameplay improvements made within this entry... I don't quite remember them as it's been more than a year since I played this game, but I remember them not being substantial enough to make a big difference. I didn't enjoy how slow and backtrack-heavy Metal Gear 1 was, and Metal Gear 2 did not address these problems as much as I would've liked.
Right now, I'm gonna tackle this from the perspective of "is playing Metal Gear 2 worth it to understand the Solid series more?" What you're gonna get out of it at least is seeing the origins of Gray Fox, and, I mean, Big Boss is here, but he feels more like a Bowser villain than a fleshed out character this early on in the series's chronology. He's just kind of the guy that pops up once again to cause some shit.
Ultimately though, I don't think playing the game for the story is worth it. You'll get more discussions about nuclear disarmament and the horror of child soldiers in the later games. You'll get more scientist characters building weapons against their own will. You'll get more love interests. You'll get more Gray Fox. More information on Big Boss. You'll have enough contextual clues to piece together what happened in the previous entries by just playing Metal Gear Solid 1. And you'll get everything that Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake offered, but with far more refinements.
Normally I'm not the type to say "oh, well, you don't need to play the older entries because the later entries are way better", but I mean it in this case that the Metal Gear Solid games would go on to heavily retread what this game sets up, to a point of making it near-redundant. It's like this game didn't reach enough people, so Kojima was like fuck it, let's do it again. And so, that's why I cannot personally recommend this one. There's little here that I can't get out of the later games.
As for the gameplay improvements made within this entry... I don't quite remember them as it's been more than a year since I played this game, but I remember them not being substantial enough to make a big difference. I didn't enjoy how slow and backtrack-heavy Metal Gear 1 was, and Metal Gear 2 did not address these problems as much as I would've liked.
Right now, I'm gonna tackle this from the perspective of "is playing Metal Gear 2 worth it to understand the Solid series more?" What you're gonna get out of it at least is seeing the origins of Gray Fox, and, I mean, Big Boss is here, but he feels more like a Bowser villain than a fleshed out character this early on in the series's chronology. He's just kind of the guy that pops up once again to cause some shit.
Ultimately though, I don't think playing the game for the story is worth it. You'll get more discussions about nuclear disarmament and the horror of child soldiers in the later games. You'll get more scientist characters building weapons against their own will. You'll get more love interests. You'll get more Gray Fox. More information on Big Boss. You'll have enough contextual clues to piece together what happened in the previous entries by just playing Metal Gear Solid 1. And you'll get everything that Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake offered, but with far more refinements.
Normally I'm not the type to say "oh, well, you don't need to play the older entries because the later entries are way better", but I mean it in this case that the Metal Gear Solid games would go on to heavily retread what this game sets up, to a point of making it near-redundant. It's like this game didn't reach enough people, so Kojima was like fuck it, let's do it again. And so, that's why I cannot personally recommend this one. There's little here that I can't get out of the later games.
1993
What the fuck do you mean it's pronounced "Vai"?
Alright... how do I do this? How do I write anything about Vay without my numbness for these sorts of RPG's seeping through? Final Fantasy's spoiling me, man, even the earliest ones take the opportunity to innovate and experiment with their mechanics, delivering a fresh experience each time. Meanwhile, CD Audio has been in full swing since 4 years, and Vay still believes it's all you need to sell your game. No, Vay. You dumb moron. No, it actually takes a little more for your RPG to be interesting than just plopping CD Audio and some cinematics into it. Try as you might, that sort of entertainment only goes so far, when the ratio of boring game design is about 20 hours higher than your 10 minutes of attempts at impressing me.
As is to be done for most of these Working Designs-published titles, I made use of the Un-Working romhack, which reverts all difficulty and balancing changes made in the US version, back to how the japanese original did things. But it's not better. The US version is cited to have some real shitty amounts of grinding, but it turns out, the JP version has the exact same problem, just a different way of handling it. As The Cutting Room Floor puts it, the US version bumps up the difficulty and MP costs by a stupid degree, but makes equipment more affordable. Meanwhile, the JP version's balancing is more chill, except for the part where equipment costs astronomical amounts. I quickly realized that this game was in desperate need of a gold multiplier, but there isn't one. So, the version you choose to play will dictate whether the game is designed around grinding levels, or money. But either way it doesn't matter, because you'll incidentally end up doing both. For hours, and hours.
Makes me wonder, what even is the point of incentivizing exploration through treasure chests containing gold, if that exploration + whatever enemies you fought throughout isn't even enough to cover any of your shopping sprees? In a game based almost entirely around exploring dungeons, curiosity and thoroughness should have you walking out of these adventures feeling like you're rich as hell. For everything you accomplish, Vay tries to impose how your tales are spreading across the isles, the legendary prince that's going to stop the evil empire's reign...!
Yet it seems for all the praise and support you receive, the shopkeepers jack up their prices so high, they may just hate your fucking guts more than the villain does. Forget the "a thousand years passed since 5 magicians sealed the legendary armor" business, I wanna know what those thousand years did to the economy. It really sucks to know that your efforts aren't naturally interwoven into the design. That no matter how hard you strive to keep ahead of Vay, the game seems purposefully balanced around making your efforts insignificant until you do your mandated grinding session.
It's all grind and no substance, folks. The gameplay's a very basic form of turn-based combat, with no defining mechanics to stand out from anything. Even the magic pool is so limited, I maxed it out halfway through the game. It needed more buffs, more interesting strategies to take advantage of, but all it has is healing, elemental damage, and a singular buff to raise your attack for one turn. Meanwhile, enemies take a turn into damage sponge-territory as you edge closer towards the end, and turn what starts as a commendably fast-paced battle system, into a total slog. And oop, you guessed it, encounter rates are bad too! I even halved them using a romhack, and they were still too intrusive.
The positives of Vay are found in the strangest places. Take for example, the soundtrack. It's pretty repetitive, and kinda grating on the ears. But holy shit, why are these battle themes so good? Maybe techno doesn't exactly fit within Vay's fantasy setting, but I don't exactly care, there is a fascinating unconventionality in how it's utilized to ramp up the intensity of the tone here. If Vay leaned into this aesthetic further to support its vague and unexplored sci-fi elements, who knows, it could've gotten this close to having an identity!
And of course, the other thing that kept me going with this game was the localization. Working Designs was truly one of a kind. Their localizations so eloquently stride the line between being more professionally executed than anything else available on the market, and so completely unfaithful and juvenile that you can only enjoy them with a sense of detached irony. How can you be professional yet unprofessional at the same time? Working Designs found a way, and though I cannot respect it by any means, it was the only meaningful entertainment I had throughout the game. It is very odd to hate the one thing that kept me going. But I guess I'm not invulnerable to taking pleasure out of something embarrassing.
Vay is a good YouTube game. That is, there's a lot more worth in following a longplay, because you can skip all the boring shit. And there's plenty of that coming your way, so just do yourself a solid. Time is precious. I'm starting to realize that more than ever. When games like Vay come along, and take 20 hours of my life away from me.
Lord help me, I need to play some better RPG's soon.
Alright... how do I do this? How do I write anything about Vay without my numbness for these sorts of RPG's seeping through? Final Fantasy's spoiling me, man, even the earliest ones take the opportunity to innovate and experiment with their mechanics, delivering a fresh experience each time. Meanwhile, CD Audio has been in full swing since 4 years, and Vay still believes it's all you need to sell your game. No, Vay. You dumb moron. No, it actually takes a little more for your RPG to be interesting than just plopping CD Audio and some cinematics into it. Try as you might, that sort of entertainment only goes so far, when the ratio of boring game design is about 20 hours higher than your 10 minutes of attempts at impressing me.
As is to be done for most of these Working Designs-published titles, I made use of the Un-Working romhack, which reverts all difficulty and balancing changes made in the US version, back to how the japanese original did things. But it's not better. The US version is cited to have some real shitty amounts of grinding, but it turns out, the JP version has the exact same problem, just a different way of handling it. As The Cutting Room Floor puts it, the US version bumps up the difficulty and MP costs by a stupid degree, but makes equipment more affordable. Meanwhile, the JP version's balancing is more chill, except for the part where equipment costs astronomical amounts. I quickly realized that this game was in desperate need of a gold multiplier, but there isn't one. So, the version you choose to play will dictate whether the game is designed around grinding levels, or money. But either way it doesn't matter, because you'll incidentally end up doing both. For hours, and hours.
Makes me wonder, what even is the point of incentivizing exploration through treasure chests containing gold, if that exploration + whatever enemies you fought throughout isn't even enough to cover any of your shopping sprees? In a game based almost entirely around exploring dungeons, curiosity and thoroughness should have you walking out of these adventures feeling like you're rich as hell. For everything you accomplish, Vay tries to impose how your tales are spreading across the isles, the legendary prince that's going to stop the evil empire's reign...!
Yet it seems for all the praise and support you receive, the shopkeepers jack up their prices so high, they may just hate your fucking guts more than the villain does. Forget the "a thousand years passed since 5 magicians sealed the legendary armor" business, I wanna know what those thousand years did to the economy. It really sucks to know that your efforts aren't naturally interwoven into the design. That no matter how hard you strive to keep ahead of Vay, the game seems purposefully balanced around making your efforts insignificant until you do your mandated grinding session.
It's all grind and no substance, folks. The gameplay's a very basic form of turn-based combat, with no defining mechanics to stand out from anything. Even the magic pool is so limited, I maxed it out halfway through the game. It needed more buffs, more interesting strategies to take advantage of, but all it has is healing, elemental damage, and a singular buff to raise your attack for one turn. Meanwhile, enemies take a turn into damage sponge-territory as you edge closer towards the end, and turn what starts as a commendably fast-paced battle system, into a total slog. And oop, you guessed it, encounter rates are bad too! I even halved them using a romhack, and they were still too intrusive.
The positives of Vay are found in the strangest places. Take for example, the soundtrack. It's pretty repetitive, and kinda grating on the ears. But holy shit, why are these battle themes so good? Maybe techno doesn't exactly fit within Vay's fantasy setting, but I don't exactly care, there is a fascinating unconventionality in how it's utilized to ramp up the intensity of the tone here. If Vay leaned into this aesthetic further to support its vague and unexplored sci-fi elements, who knows, it could've gotten this close to having an identity!
And of course, the other thing that kept me going with this game was the localization. Working Designs was truly one of a kind. Their localizations so eloquently stride the line between being more professionally executed than anything else available on the market, and so completely unfaithful and juvenile that you can only enjoy them with a sense of detached irony. How can you be professional yet unprofessional at the same time? Working Designs found a way, and though I cannot respect it by any means, it was the only meaningful entertainment I had throughout the game. It is very odd to hate the one thing that kept me going. But I guess I'm not invulnerable to taking pleasure out of something embarrassing.
Vay is a good YouTube game. That is, there's a lot more worth in following a longplay, because you can skip all the boring shit. And there's plenty of that coming your way, so just do yourself a solid. Time is precious. I'm starting to realize that more than ever. When games like Vay come along, and take 20 hours of my life away from me.
Lord help me, I need to play some better RPG's soon.
2021
A pretty good way to get into the Final Fantasy series, and perhaps to even get into RPG's in general if you're looking to start with something simple.
The remaster brings many QoL changes that remove the tedium of the NES original, including a modern inventory system, a way to auto-battle, fast forward things, and a map to make use of. There's also decent replay value through picking which classes you want to start the game off with. The music kicks ass, also, they did an incredible job remixing it. The overall difficulty is pretty easy, up until you reach the final boss. That one's gonna test you proper.
You're not gonna get an amazing story out of this due to its roots, but if you enjoy the feeling of leveling up, getting stronger, and looking forward to what the next area has to offer, this game more than scratches that itch.
The only major complaint about the remaster is the use of font. There are ways to change it into something more 8-bit looking, which I would recommend looking up.
The remaster brings many QoL changes that remove the tedium of the NES original, including a modern inventory system, a way to auto-battle, fast forward things, and a map to make use of. There's also decent replay value through picking which classes you want to start the game off with. The music kicks ass, also, they did an incredible job remixing it. The overall difficulty is pretty easy, up until you reach the final boss. That one's gonna test you proper.
You're not gonna get an amazing story out of this due to its roots, but if you enjoy the feeling of leveling up, getting stronger, and looking forward to what the next area has to offer, this game more than scratches that itch.
The only major complaint about the remaster is the use of font. There are ways to change it into something more 8-bit looking, which I would recommend looking up.
Gonna make the same warning I did for 8-bit Sonic 2: Don't play the Game Gear version, it has screen crunch. You should preferably deal with the Master System version being 50FPS instead, but it's better than having tunnel vision.
Sonic Chaos feels like an overcompensation of the difficulty of Sonic 2, the previous Master System title. In the blink of an eye, we've went from what may be the hardest Sonic game, to the easiest one. The levels shower you with more rings than you need, and generally last about 30-40 seconds each. Bing, bam, boom, and you've reached the credits in a little over 25 minutes. After the struggle that was Sonic 2 on the Master System, this game being such a breeze definitely instilled some feelings of whiplash.
While easy difficulty is not necessarily reflective of the quality of a game, what makes Chaos as average as it is, is the lack of complexity and thinking that comes with this difficulty. Levels can be very easily charged through by holding right and doing an occasional jump, with little in the way of interesting mechanics or optional routes that encourage you to figure out a way to. It's not that Chaos plays badly, I mean, it's a completely servicable platforming game that you might have some fun with, but this fun is so one-note, so completely mindless, and over in so little time, that the game fails to make a lasting impression.
Also, it may be unfinished?? The level design already gives you the impression that Chaos was rushed the hell out of, but adding to that, you have Tails as a second playable character. He can fly! He couldn't do that in the 16-bit Sonic 2, so that's cool! But for some reason, he can't use the Rocket Shoes powerup, nor is he able to access the Chaos Emeralds, thus locking him out of the good ending. Not that there's much of a "good ending" to be had here, all that's there is a very slightly different ending screen. It's not like getting the emeralds is any harder than the main game, but much like the rest of the game, all of it feels pointless. Sonic Chaos is pointless. Inoffensive. And pointless. That's the gist of it.
Sonic Chaos feels like an overcompensation of the difficulty of Sonic 2, the previous Master System title. In the blink of an eye, we've went from what may be the hardest Sonic game, to the easiest one. The levels shower you with more rings than you need, and generally last about 30-40 seconds each. Bing, bam, boom, and you've reached the credits in a little over 25 minutes. After the struggle that was Sonic 2 on the Master System, this game being such a breeze definitely instilled some feelings of whiplash.
While easy difficulty is not necessarily reflective of the quality of a game, what makes Chaos as average as it is, is the lack of complexity and thinking that comes with this difficulty. Levels can be very easily charged through by holding right and doing an occasional jump, with little in the way of interesting mechanics or optional routes that encourage you to figure out a way to. It's not that Chaos plays badly, I mean, it's a completely servicable platforming game that you might have some fun with, but this fun is so one-note, so completely mindless, and over in so little time, that the game fails to make a lasting impression.
Also, it may be unfinished?? The level design already gives you the impression that Chaos was rushed the hell out of, but adding to that, you have Tails as a second playable character. He can fly! He couldn't do that in the 16-bit Sonic 2, so that's cool! But for some reason, he can't use the Rocket Shoes powerup, nor is he able to access the Chaos Emeralds, thus locking him out of the good ending. Not that there's much of a "good ending" to be had here, all that's there is a very slightly different ending screen. It's not like getting the emeralds is any harder than the main game, but much like the rest of the game, all of it feels pointless. Sonic Chaos is pointless. Inoffensive. And pointless. That's the gist of it.
One of the finest Contra games out there. It plays very much like the previous NES titles (down to the spread shot still being the one and only weapon you want imo), but the technical leap is on a whole other level.
The rate at which the game moves through its setpieces gives it a sort-of action flick vibe, it never stops being exciting. Things are constantly blowing up, and the environments are consistently getting shifted to change up the pace. A particular highlight is the bike level, a genuinely impressive showcase of what the SNES can do that I wish I could relive for the first time again. Half of the game's fun is just seeing what sort of crazy thing will it do next.
The soundtrack takes a little while to start up, but it really grows on you over time. The game also has a then-rare example of dynamic music during its final stage, where it goes through multiple increasingly more intense parts of the song the further you get through. As with a lot of things in Contra 3, it really left an impression on me.
The only subjective issue is the one synonomous with the Contra brand, its high degree of difficulty which leaves it difficult to access. That is, unless you use the 30 lives cheat, save states, or if you're just ready to meet the challenge and take the time to practice.
Contra 3 shows the advantages and disadvantages of being short as hell: The advantages being that you can pack a crazy amount of spectacle into your game the shorter you make it, and the disadvantage being that you gotta make it hard so the player doesn't beat it in half an hour. For a particular audience however, Contra 3 is pure joy, and you don't have to be good at it to appreciate just how well put together the whole thing is.
The rate at which the game moves through its setpieces gives it a sort-of action flick vibe, it never stops being exciting. Things are constantly blowing up, and the environments are consistently getting shifted to change up the pace. A particular highlight is the bike level, a genuinely impressive showcase of what the SNES can do that I wish I could relive for the first time again. Half of the game's fun is just seeing what sort of crazy thing will it do next.
The soundtrack takes a little while to start up, but it really grows on you over time. The game also has a then-rare example of dynamic music during its final stage, where it goes through multiple increasingly more intense parts of the song the further you get through. As with a lot of things in Contra 3, it really left an impression on me.
The only subjective issue is the one synonomous with the Contra brand, its high degree of difficulty which leaves it difficult to access. That is, unless you use the 30 lives cheat, save states, or if you're just ready to meet the challenge and take the time to practice.
Contra 3 shows the advantages and disadvantages of being short as hell: The advantages being that you can pack a crazy amount of spectacle into your game the shorter you make it, and the disadvantage being that you gotta make it hard so the player doesn't beat it in half an hour. For a particular audience however, Contra 3 is pure joy, and you don't have to be good at it to appreciate just how well put together the whole thing is.
Oops, it's a Mega Man game in disguise! And not a bad one at that. Capcom was at the top of their game when it came to licensed Disney stuff. Although you've got a shield instead of a slide, which brings the flow of movement closer to something like Mega Man 2 instead of 3.
The gameplay is very well put together. The hanging mechanic makes some platforming easier, at the expense of making other sequences a lot tougher, but it overall evens out. I enjoyed the soundtrack, as well as the variety of stages present. Bonus points for the ending getting an intentional laugh out of me, which you pretty much never see in an NES game.
There isn't much about it that's remarkable, but I had fun once, I had fun twice, and I'd come back to play it a third time. Mega Man fans should give this a peep.
The gameplay is very well put together. The hanging mechanic makes some platforming easier, at the expense of making other sequences a lot tougher, but it overall evens out. I enjoyed the soundtrack, as well as the variety of stages present. Bonus points for the ending getting an intentional laugh out of me, which you pretty much never see in an NES game.
There isn't much about it that's remarkable, but I had fun once, I had fun twice, and I'd come back to play it a third time. Mega Man fans should give this a peep.
The final entry in the Final Fantasy Legend trilogy is without a doubt the most accessible one, with strides taken to streamline the gameplay into that of a more traditional RPG. After the polarizing features of the previous Legend games, it was pretty funny to have to spend a whole 90 minutes adjusting to the idea that experience points do in fact exist, that stats are automatically distributed based on just leveling up, and weapons and abilities are yours to keep and don't break after 50 uses. Which, honestly, I didn't miss that last one, it made things pretty stressful.
What ultimately remains from the prior Legend games, is the class system, and the concept of eating meat to transform into potentially less or more useful monsters. Robot classes make a return as well, but require the hurdle of significantly nerfing your party member's stats, so I did not use them whatsoever. And the mutants are here, but they're no longer dependent on luck. Much like a Final Fantasy mage, you buy spells for them, and they keep'em.
So, yeah! Forget the lessons you've internalized from Legend 1 or 2, because this is as close to a traditional RPG as I'm sure the Saga series will ever get. And, well, as a traditional RPG, it does an okay job. The story is barely decipherable, but the exploration can be fun, especially when you reach the biggest island of them all. I enjoyed the lite crafting elements that allowed you to get new spells, weapons and armor, even if most of them never came in handy. The way they handled upgrading your ship was interesting, and the fact that it joins you in the final battle was the game's one and only hype moment.
Speaking of hype, can we talk about what doesn't illicit it? The battles. The reason for what effectively kills the game and why it sits at a sagging 2.5 stars, is just how fucking slow these battles are. Even Legend 2 got this right. In Legend 3, you feel each and every single turn - whether it's yours or the enemy's - give you wrinkles on your skin. There's a long and unnecessary pause for each and every attack you deal, or receive, and my god, please just go faster! But there's no options to speed it up. There's nothing you can do, but fast forward the shit out of everything, at which point the game feels like a blur as you start paying less attention to what's actually going on in the battles. But you'll get through them, don't worry, because it really does not take much thought, or an ability to stay conscious.
I think there's also a slight problem with the way this game handles worldbuilding, when this is one of the first RPG's I've seen where an NPC does not tell you the name of the town you're in. It does, however, tell you the names of other towns as hints, but how the fuck can you tell "Porle" apart from "Donmac" if there's nothing to indicate that you are indeed in these towns when you get there? When looking through guides, I thought some of the character names were actually town names on top, it made keeping track of story things all the more confusing.
Legend III is a very average game, with some small above-average ideas sprawled about, all wrapped in a sluggish battle system where not even the fast forward button disguises its pace unless you crank that shit up to times eight. One of the reviews here said something I very much agree with. That even though Legend 1 was jank as hell, and Legend 2 was a heavily stressful and frustrating experience, at least those had something going for them through their unconventional approach. As for Legend 3? You can't even see me on the chair, because I've slumped all the way to the ground to take a nap. Zzzzzz....
But, hey, if I miss the way Akitoshi Kawazu handled game design, I'd better cheer up then, because my next RPG is Romancing Saga! I am both terrified and very curious.
What ultimately remains from the prior Legend games, is the class system, and the concept of eating meat to transform into potentially less or more useful monsters. Robot classes make a return as well, but require the hurdle of significantly nerfing your party member's stats, so I did not use them whatsoever. And the mutants are here, but they're no longer dependent on luck. Much like a Final Fantasy mage, you buy spells for them, and they keep'em.
So, yeah! Forget the lessons you've internalized from Legend 1 or 2, because this is as close to a traditional RPG as I'm sure the Saga series will ever get. And, well, as a traditional RPG, it does an okay job. The story is barely decipherable, but the exploration can be fun, especially when you reach the biggest island of them all. I enjoyed the lite crafting elements that allowed you to get new spells, weapons and armor, even if most of them never came in handy. The way they handled upgrading your ship was interesting, and the fact that it joins you in the final battle was the game's one and only hype moment.
Speaking of hype, can we talk about what doesn't illicit it? The battles. The reason for what effectively kills the game and why it sits at a sagging 2.5 stars, is just how fucking slow these battles are. Even Legend 2 got this right. In Legend 3, you feel each and every single turn - whether it's yours or the enemy's - give you wrinkles on your skin. There's a long and unnecessary pause for each and every attack you deal, or receive, and my god, please just go faster! But there's no options to speed it up. There's nothing you can do, but fast forward the shit out of everything, at which point the game feels like a blur as you start paying less attention to what's actually going on in the battles. But you'll get through them, don't worry, because it really does not take much thought, or an ability to stay conscious.
I think there's also a slight problem with the way this game handles worldbuilding, when this is one of the first RPG's I've seen where an NPC does not tell you the name of the town you're in. It does, however, tell you the names of other towns as hints, but how the fuck can you tell "Porle" apart from "Donmac" if there's nothing to indicate that you are indeed in these towns when you get there? When looking through guides, I thought some of the character names were actually town names on top, it made keeping track of story things all the more confusing.
Legend III is a very average game, with some small above-average ideas sprawled about, all wrapped in a sluggish battle system where not even the fast forward button disguises its pace unless you crank that shit up to times eight. One of the reviews here said something I very much agree with. That even though Legend 1 was jank as hell, and Legend 2 was a heavily stressful and frustrating experience, at least those had something going for them through their unconventional approach. As for Legend 3? You can't even see me on the chair, because I've slumped all the way to the ground to take a nap. Zzzzzz....
But, hey, if I miss the way Akitoshi Kawazu handled game design, I'd better cheer up then, because my next RPG is Romancing Saga! I am both terrified and very curious.
1994
Policenauts is a truly fascinating disaster of mixed messaging. On one hand, it asks and answers some interesting questions. What would society be like if we perfected space travel? If we made other planets inhabitable? What if after a 25-year coma, you've found yourself in such a world when it seemed like none of that was possible just yesterday? What of your friends? Your old colleagues? Your wife? You were gone for so long, so where are these people now? Is it worth chasing the past, especially if you may not end up getting the answers you like? If the people that you respected back then, are no longer who they used to be...?
But of all these questions, the one that it desperately wants to ask you the most is "How much creepy misogynistic bullshit can you stomach in order to experience any of these themes?" Because, fucking whoof. I thought Snatcher was bad with this stuff, but in contrast, that's nothing. Policenauts is a fantastic story, buried miles below a stream of constant intrusive interruptions of Kojima's unrestrained and creative freedom, otherwisely known as his libido.
Let's just get the good out of the way, shall we? Yes, there is a genuinely solid story here. When Jonathan (the main character) and your cop buddy Ed are going around solving the mystery of an illegal trafficking ring, looking into things that you shouldn't have and accusing high-ranking rich scumbags that could have you be disappeared within a day, Policenauts is a thrilling and dangerous ride, yet filled with many slow-paced instances of retrospection on the differences between this world, and the one Jonathan grew up with.
The story revels in its worldbuilding, its heavy usage of medicinal and biological terms that I barely grasp, and it is equally as intriguing as it is difficult to follow at times. Whether that's because things get too complicated for me, or because the pacing takes a bit of a nosedive and I start paying less attention. My deficit attention span aside, I find it well put together, with a viscerally satisfying ending that tops it off and wraps things up with a neat ribbon.
The visuals of the PS1 version, while not very stylistic when it comes to the backgrounds depicted (a downgrade from Snatcher's 16-bit nightly city landscapes, which were a lot cooler), are quite detailed and tend to match the standards of the anime produced of that time, alongside the couple FMV's that were produced for this port. An effort is made to deliver a cinematic quality that I think does a well enough job to enhance the setting, and storytelling of the game.
If Policenauts was just this, it'd be sitting at 4 stars right now. Maybe even 4.5, because damn, it really does have its special moments, and a couple pretty likable characters, Ed just being such a pitiable down-on-his-luck guy that you wanna root for. Regrettably, I'm now gonna have to come back to my initial point. Ed is likable, Jonathan... far from it.
As I stated in my Snatcher review, writing your main character to be horny isn't an automatic reason to make a rant like I'm about to. While I would more often leave it than take it, there's a decent way to do something like this. Policenauts oversteps its boundaries, and the boundaries of every single girl you will meet across your investigation. These are just working people. One's a flight attendant, the other's working behind an info desk... Most of them scantily-dressed, revealing some bit of sideboob or as much as leg as possible. And maybe I'd just be overthinking it, if it weren't for the game immediately enforcing these clothing choices by giving me free reign to flirt with them, comment on their face, their hips, their legs, and... a whole new feature exclusive to this game, the Molest button! Go right ahead, just grope their boobs and face absolutely no ramifications or consequences for it, beyond a meek scolding from your cop buddy, and an "Ahn~ Stop it~" from the girl. Truly, an experience made for the gamer.
Policenauts likes to utilize porn game logic for its moments of levity. Just like in a porn game, you're not really meant to think about the way you conduct yourself in front of a girl. Let your wild animal instincts kick in, and enjoy yourself, that's what I presume Kojima figured. The biggest problem with this sort of mindset is that you chose to insert mindless porn game logic into a story that actually requires you to think quite heavily. You can't turn your brain off in a game like this, you wouldn't be able to follow the plot, you wouldn't consider the theming, you wouldn't theorize about the truth of the mystery. You are required to do all of those things to get the most out of Policenauts, and just when you really start to immerse yourself into it- Hot dog, is that an attractive woman?! Cue up the Attractive Woman Theme Song, Jonathan's about to make some wacky unwanted advances!
You see? Policenauts wants to treat itself as a grounded and realistic story. But it also wants it both ways through dedicating half of its cast to a guy's fantasy, and an uncomfortably frequent chunk of its humor to attempts at sexual assault. And when you're in the middle of analyzing everything else, it's not gonna be hard to analyze this for what it is, which is an insanely one-sided depiction of women that takes away and distracts from an objective understanding of how the world really works, just to titillate the player a bit. One tone is contradicting the other, neither work well in tandem with each other, and it ends up ruining my ability to take any of the story seriously.
It's not a sin to appreciate the good aspects of Policenauts. But it would be ignorant to say what's problematic about it isn't a problem at all. If you were crafting a story as extensively detailed as this one, you'd think you would want to spread its message to a larger demographic than horny dudes. As it stands, how can I recommend this game to my friends? "There's a really cool story here, if you ignore all of the objectification?" I'm fucked. Policenauts fucked itself. And did it honestly need to be that way?
But of all these questions, the one that it desperately wants to ask you the most is "How much creepy misogynistic bullshit can you stomach in order to experience any of these themes?" Because, fucking whoof. I thought Snatcher was bad with this stuff, but in contrast, that's nothing. Policenauts is a fantastic story, buried miles below a stream of constant intrusive interruptions of Kojima's unrestrained and creative freedom, otherwisely known as his libido.
Let's just get the good out of the way, shall we? Yes, there is a genuinely solid story here. When Jonathan (the main character) and your cop buddy Ed are going around solving the mystery of an illegal trafficking ring, looking into things that you shouldn't have and accusing high-ranking rich scumbags that could have you be disappeared within a day, Policenauts is a thrilling and dangerous ride, yet filled with many slow-paced instances of retrospection on the differences between this world, and the one Jonathan grew up with.
The story revels in its worldbuilding, its heavy usage of medicinal and biological terms that I barely grasp, and it is equally as intriguing as it is difficult to follow at times. Whether that's because things get too complicated for me, or because the pacing takes a bit of a nosedive and I start paying less attention. My deficit attention span aside, I find it well put together, with a viscerally satisfying ending that tops it off and wraps things up with a neat ribbon.
The visuals of the PS1 version, while not very stylistic when it comes to the backgrounds depicted (a downgrade from Snatcher's 16-bit nightly city landscapes, which were a lot cooler), are quite detailed and tend to match the standards of the anime produced of that time, alongside the couple FMV's that were produced for this port. An effort is made to deliver a cinematic quality that I think does a well enough job to enhance the setting, and storytelling of the game.
If Policenauts was just this, it'd be sitting at 4 stars right now. Maybe even 4.5, because damn, it really does have its special moments, and a couple pretty likable characters, Ed just being such a pitiable down-on-his-luck guy that you wanna root for. Regrettably, I'm now gonna have to come back to my initial point. Ed is likable, Jonathan... far from it.
As I stated in my Snatcher review, writing your main character to be horny isn't an automatic reason to make a rant like I'm about to. While I would more often leave it than take it, there's a decent way to do something like this. Policenauts oversteps its boundaries, and the boundaries of every single girl you will meet across your investigation. These are just working people. One's a flight attendant, the other's working behind an info desk... Most of them scantily-dressed, revealing some bit of sideboob or as much as leg as possible. And maybe I'd just be overthinking it, if it weren't for the game immediately enforcing these clothing choices by giving me free reign to flirt with them, comment on their face, their hips, their legs, and... a whole new feature exclusive to this game, the Molest button! Go right ahead, just grope their boobs and face absolutely no ramifications or consequences for it, beyond a meek scolding from your cop buddy, and an "Ahn~ Stop it~" from the girl. Truly, an experience made for the gamer.
Policenauts likes to utilize porn game logic for its moments of levity. Just like in a porn game, you're not really meant to think about the way you conduct yourself in front of a girl. Let your wild animal instincts kick in, and enjoy yourself, that's what I presume Kojima figured. The biggest problem with this sort of mindset is that you chose to insert mindless porn game logic into a story that actually requires you to think quite heavily. You can't turn your brain off in a game like this, you wouldn't be able to follow the plot, you wouldn't consider the theming, you wouldn't theorize about the truth of the mystery. You are required to do all of those things to get the most out of Policenauts, and just when you really start to immerse yourself into it- Hot dog, is that an attractive woman?! Cue up the Attractive Woman Theme Song, Jonathan's about to make some wacky unwanted advances!
You see? Policenauts wants to treat itself as a grounded and realistic story. But it also wants it both ways through dedicating half of its cast to a guy's fantasy, and an uncomfortably frequent chunk of its humor to attempts at sexual assault. And when you're in the middle of analyzing everything else, it's not gonna be hard to analyze this for what it is, which is an insanely one-sided depiction of women that takes away and distracts from an objective understanding of how the world really works, just to titillate the player a bit. One tone is contradicting the other, neither work well in tandem with each other, and it ends up ruining my ability to take any of the story seriously.
It's not a sin to appreciate the good aspects of Policenauts. But it would be ignorant to say what's problematic about it isn't a problem at all. If you were crafting a story as extensively detailed as this one, you'd think you would want to spread its message to a larger demographic than horny dudes. As it stands, how can I recommend this game to my friends? "There's a really cool story here, if you ignore all of the objectification?" I'm fucked. Policenauts fucked itself. And did it honestly need to be that way?
I don't have much experience with Ghouls 'n Ghosts, and there's an obvious reason for that. Because the series's whole point is as a masochist game. Entirely possible to master with weeks of practice, but that's assuming you have those weeks to spare and wouldn't rather save state your way through.
Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts, is in many ways like the NES game, but this time around, it doesn't feel like shit to play. The controls are still limited in the same ways, but at least they feel a lot smoother this time around, and wrapped around a pretty stellar presentation. The production value has seen an immense jump in quality, and is full of neat memorable setpieces to have each of the game's 8 levels stick out.
So the problem isn't the controls, or the graphics. It's everything else. At its core, it's still a very relentless and punishing game, where the brave knight Arthur with his full set of metal-plate armor feels about as fragile as my patience when I attempt this game fair and square. But perhaps wording this as a "problem" isn't quite right, it's obvious that there is a particular niche for this sort of game, and I fall heavily out of it. More than Ninja Gaiden, more than Contra, Ghouls 'n Ghosts is an extreme challenge designed for the extreme sorts.
Also, listen, this may be a hot take, but making me play the game twice to get the true ending is a serious kiss-my-ass moment. I'm not doing that. Nobody should have to do that. The series making this a staple of the franchise, no. No, don't do that. You're already asking too much as is.
Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts, is in many ways like the NES game, but this time around, it doesn't feel like shit to play. The controls are still limited in the same ways, but at least they feel a lot smoother this time around, and wrapped around a pretty stellar presentation. The production value has seen an immense jump in quality, and is full of neat memorable setpieces to have each of the game's 8 levels stick out.
So the problem isn't the controls, or the graphics. It's everything else. At its core, it's still a very relentless and punishing game, where the brave knight Arthur with his full set of metal-plate armor feels about as fragile as my patience when I attempt this game fair and square. But perhaps wording this as a "problem" isn't quite right, it's obvious that there is a particular niche for this sort of game, and I fall heavily out of it. More than Ninja Gaiden, more than Contra, Ghouls 'n Ghosts is an extreme challenge designed for the extreme sorts.
Also, listen, this may be a hot take, but making me play the game twice to get the true ending is a serious kiss-my-ass moment. I'm not doing that. Nobody should have to do that. The series making this a staple of the franchise, no. No, don't do that. You're already asking too much as is.
1991
Even as gaming journalists were starting to get tired of NES Mega Man, especially now that the SNES was in full swing, clearly these games had to still be a hit with the audiences if they pumped out 3 more of them, counting this one. It was like the Call of Duty of the 90's. No more innovation, no more risks, Mega Man has found a safe spot to be in, and refined its formula to the point where they can just crank these things out year after year. For better or for worse.
However, assuming that you're not tired of Mega Man yet and are seeking more of what you liked about the previous ones, 4 should satiate your needs if treated as "the next set of Mega Man levels" rather than "the next evolution of Mega Man." There's no more of 3's padding, and next to no wonky design. Aside from Bright Man, which to this very day I have yet to find a way to dodge his attacks. Aside from that though, it is the most consistently well-designed entry so far, and an overall solid run 'n gun to sink 2-3 hours into and be done with.
With that out of the way, I have a question. Does anybody actually use the charge shot in this game, or am I the only weirdo that finds it kind of uncomfortable? I'm generally not a fan of charging mechanics in any game, but aside from that, having to hear the charge shot noise not only gets annoying, but mutes instruments from the game's stellar soundtrack, and you don't want that. The charge shot is this game's major addition to the formula, but it is one that I have largely ignored, even in the future games.
Anyway, the game's good. Just brace yourself, because from here on out, Mega Man is a series that's known for finding one innovation that it proceeds to latch onto for 6 or 8 games onward with few changes. While the bad news of this is that it quickly loses any potential wow factor, the good news is the lack of evolution makes Mega Man a relatively comfy franchise, with lots of samey but fun games, and they'll stay fun if you treat'em like popcorn, and not expect full dinner and wine.
However, assuming that you're not tired of Mega Man yet and are seeking more of what you liked about the previous ones, 4 should satiate your needs if treated as "the next set of Mega Man levels" rather than "the next evolution of Mega Man." There's no more of 3's padding, and next to no wonky design. Aside from Bright Man, which to this very day I have yet to find a way to dodge his attacks. Aside from that though, it is the most consistently well-designed entry so far, and an overall solid run 'n gun to sink 2-3 hours into and be done with.
With that out of the way, I have a question. Does anybody actually use the charge shot in this game, or am I the only weirdo that finds it kind of uncomfortable? I'm generally not a fan of charging mechanics in any game, but aside from that, having to hear the charge shot noise not only gets annoying, but mutes instruments from the game's stellar soundtrack, and you don't want that. The charge shot is this game's major addition to the formula, but it is one that I have largely ignored, even in the future games.
Anyway, the game's good. Just brace yourself, because from here on out, Mega Man is a series that's known for finding one innovation that it proceeds to latch onto for 6 or 8 games onward with few changes. While the bad news of this is that it quickly loses any potential wow factor, the good news is the lack of evolution makes Mega Man a relatively comfy franchise, with lots of samey but fun games, and they'll stay fun if you treat'em like popcorn, and not expect full dinner and wine.
When I first started playing the game, I assumed it was an RPG-like experience where you start off in a town, grind for money, purchase equipment, and eventually go out into the wilderness to conquer the rest of the world. What I did not expect, was that the wilderness never came. Instead, you spend the entire game inside these towns, a boss hidden in each one, which defeating immediately brings you to the next town.
The gameplay loop is certainly unique in that sense, but with my expectations set in the wrong place, the game never quite clicked with me, as it always felt like there was a major piece of game missing from it. It would've been interesting to check out for 20 minutes and leave it at that. Each new maze-like stage lost my interest further and further, until there was nothing left. Which is a shame, as stylistically it's certainly an expressive and colorful little game, and it had its moments of charm (being able to play a mini-Gradius was fun). It just wasn't enough to carry the whole thing, and it has mostly left my mind at this point.
The gameplay loop is certainly unique in that sense, but with my expectations set in the wrong place, the game never quite clicked with me, as it always felt like there was a major piece of game missing from it. It would've been interesting to check out for 20 minutes and leave it at that. Each new maze-like stage lost my interest further and further, until there was nothing left. Which is a shame, as stylistically it's certainly an expressive and colorful little game, and it had its moments of charm (being able to play a mini-Gradius was fun). It just wasn't enough to carry the whole thing, and it has mostly left my mind at this point.
1991
An excellect modernization of the Castlevania series, and I'm talking modernization all the way back in 1991. Though there would be many Metroidvania-style entries in the future with better controls, Castlevania 4 is one of the best controlling Classicvania-style games out there, if not THE best.
Admittingly, the inclusion of mid-air control and an eight-directional whip turns this game into somewhat of a power play. You are a lot more overpowered this time around, and a good chunk of the game won't pose much of a challenge as a result. To some, this may go against the very essence of Castlevania. I treat it as a kind of break from all the challenge, which was much needed after the brutal nature of Castlevania 3. This is not a game that wants to see you sweat, but it is a game that wants you to have a lot of fun.
The levels are wonderfully varied, and take full advantage of the SNES's then-recent capabilities. It remains an Arcade-like experience at its core, but with a budget and technological prowess that makes for one of the more fulfilling games from the series. There's a lot to appreciate here, with maybe the exception of that one spear boss towards the end of the game. That one sucks. The rest, though? Mwah!
If there's any Classicvania game to make your first, it's this one. A great soundtrack, refined controls, and impressive graphics will carry you through what is an all-time classic in my book.
Admittingly, the inclusion of mid-air control and an eight-directional whip turns this game into somewhat of a power play. You are a lot more overpowered this time around, and a good chunk of the game won't pose much of a challenge as a result. To some, this may go against the very essence of Castlevania. I treat it as a kind of break from all the challenge, which was much needed after the brutal nature of Castlevania 3. This is not a game that wants to see you sweat, but it is a game that wants you to have a lot of fun.
The levels are wonderfully varied, and take full advantage of the SNES's then-recent capabilities. It remains an Arcade-like experience at its core, but with a budget and technological prowess that makes for one of the more fulfilling games from the series. There's a lot to appreciate here, with maybe the exception of that one spear boss towards the end of the game. That one sucks. The rest, though? Mwah!
If there's any Classicvania game to make your first, it's this one. A great soundtrack, refined controls, and impressive graphics will carry you through what is an all-time classic in my book.
Played using the PC re-release. Much, much better than the N64 original, thanks to a smooth 60fps frame rate and other minor conveniences.
Y'know, when I first began playing Turok, I was really pleasantly surprised. Back in this era of gaming, my expectations for FPS releases are really low. Games like Wolfenstein and Doom don't appeal to me all the way, because of their over-reliance on mazes and keycard hunting shenanigans. It's no fun to have your demon-killing spree be interrupted by 20 minutes of "fuck, where do I go next?" That's why I generally prefer more linear campaigns, the likes of Half-Life and such.
Turok's first couple stages hit a different stride than the likes of Doom or Half-Life though. It's a type of level design that reminded me more of a race track, with platforming elements thrown in. The stages are a series of long (and i mean LONG) stretches of pathways, the length compensated by a sense of flow that allows you to zoom your way across them at a bit of a ridiculous rate. Once you figure out that diagonal movement makes you twice as fast, you become the fucking bishop piece of FPS games, there is simply no other method of movement you'll be wanting to use.
I really, really liked this part of Turok. It was far from the most complex FPS design I've played, but what was there really filled out that "comfort game" part of my brain. Hunting down collectibles, secrets, vibing to the percussion-heavy drum beats while mowing down dinosaurs, with weapons that honestly felt really good to use. It was mindless, but in a very polished and easy to get into kinda way. I'd be down to revisit those parts of the game again at some point.
Buut, there are other parts that I would genuinely love to have a skip button for, and they rear their ugly head in the 2nd half of the journey. The temple level. A nice change of scenery at first, until I realized that Turok was no longer doing the thing that was setting its level design apart from others. This is a maze. An obnoxiously big one. You do have a map! But it's not going to help here. I got lost, and that dragged the pacing of the stage so hard that I almost considered stopping there. The next stage right after though somewhat returned to the more standard level design from before, so that was thankfully a one-off.
Well, it was a one-off as far as "maze levels" go, but it's not the only bad stage in the game, there's an even worse one. I don't use these words lightly, the final level deserves nothing good in its life. The previous stages were already pretty long as is, but this final one seems to be doing everything in its humane power to pad the distance between you and the credits. Miles upon miles of copy-paste level design, it is an excruciating test of your patience, and a clear indication that the developers just gave up right there and then. They ran a pretty good marathon, and shit on the track just before the finish line. A genuinely terrible shame, for what was honestly a mostly pleasant FPS before then.
There's a couple other nitpicks I have, like the concept of putting extra lives into an FPS is pretty silly. I didn't really like that enemies respawn, and that ultimate weapon that you can unlock was a huge waste. You're only able to get it about 5 minutes before the game is over, at which point I guess you could... replay stages with it? But I'm not doing that. I've beaten the game. There's nothing else to do. Imagine only getting the BFG at the final boss, this is what it felt like.
To summarize, Turok could've been a potential 4/5 if it kept the quality up all the way through, but man, those 2 stages out of 8 are so repulsive that they risk ruining the entire thing. I know for a fact that my opinion was soured, and my fondness runs dry after the 1st half of the game concludes. But as much as I'm tempted to go with a score of 2.5, I really want to give Turok some slack, because the parts that WERE fun about it, really did hit the sort of dopamine I'm looking for in these sorts of games. I only wish the experience was consistent, and that the developers could've been more concerned about the quality of the journey, rather than a mind-numbing quantity.
Y'know, when I first began playing Turok, I was really pleasantly surprised. Back in this era of gaming, my expectations for FPS releases are really low. Games like Wolfenstein and Doom don't appeal to me all the way, because of their over-reliance on mazes and keycard hunting shenanigans. It's no fun to have your demon-killing spree be interrupted by 20 minutes of "fuck, where do I go next?" That's why I generally prefer more linear campaigns, the likes of Half-Life and such.
Turok's first couple stages hit a different stride than the likes of Doom or Half-Life though. It's a type of level design that reminded me more of a race track, with platforming elements thrown in. The stages are a series of long (and i mean LONG) stretches of pathways, the length compensated by a sense of flow that allows you to zoom your way across them at a bit of a ridiculous rate. Once you figure out that diagonal movement makes you twice as fast, you become the fucking bishop piece of FPS games, there is simply no other method of movement you'll be wanting to use.
I really, really liked this part of Turok. It was far from the most complex FPS design I've played, but what was there really filled out that "comfort game" part of my brain. Hunting down collectibles, secrets, vibing to the percussion-heavy drum beats while mowing down dinosaurs, with weapons that honestly felt really good to use. It was mindless, but in a very polished and easy to get into kinda way. I'd be down to revisit those parts of the game again at some point.
Buut, there are other parts that I would genuinely love to have a skip button for, and they rear their ugly head in the 2nd half of the journey. The temple level. A nice change of scenery at first, until I realized that Turok was no longer doing the thing that was setting its level design apart from others. This is a maze. An obnoxiously big one. You do have a map! But it's not going to help here. I got lost, and that dragged the pacing of the stage so hard that I almost considered stopping there. The next stage right after though somewhat returned to the more standard level design from before, so that was thankfully a one-off.
Well, it was a one-off as far as "maze levels" go, but it's not the only bad stage in the game, there's an even worse one. I don't use these words lightly, the final level deserves nothing good in its life. The previous stages were already pretty long as is, but this final one seems to be doing everything in its humane power to pad the distance between you and the credits. Miles upon miles of copy-paste level design, it is an excruciating test of your patience, and a clear indication that the developers just gave up right there and then. They ran a pretty good marathon, and shit on the track just before the finish line. A genuinely terrible shame, for what was honestly a mostly pleasant FPS before then.
There's a couple other nitpicks I have, like the concept of putting extra lives into an FPS is pretty silly. I didn't really like that enemies respawn, and that ultimate weapon that you can unlock was a huge waste. You're only able to get it about 5 minutes before the game is over, at which point I guess you could... replay stages with it? But I'm not doing that. I've beaten the game. There's nothing else to do. Imagine only getting the BFG at the final boss, this is what it felt like.
To summarize, Turok could've been a potential 4/5 if it kept the quality up all the way through, but man, those 2 stages out of 8 are so repulsive that they risk ruining the entire thing. I know for a fact that my opinion was soured, and my fondness runs dry after the 1st half of the game concludes. But as much as I'm tempted to go with a score of 2.5, I really want to give Turok some slack, because the parts that WERE fun about it, really did hit the sort of dopamine I'm looking for in these sorts of games. I only wish the experience was consistent, and that the developers could've been more concerned about the quality of the journey, rather than a mind-numbing quantity.
A great improvement from the previous Zeldas, and the first proper accessible Zelda game. That's as long as you're thorough, otherwise you might hit some points where you get stuck. But even then, these should be infrequent, and are part of the experience. It's not about being easy, but it is about being fair, and Link to the Past is much more fair than anything prior.
There's a lot to praise about the gameplay. Your sword has a greater amount of range, the dungeons are better varied, the overworld is full of neat events, NPC's, and secrets to find, and there's a map! Like, a full one! You press a button, and an entire lay of the land and where you are on it shows up. No more guides or manuals required, no more pen 'n paper on hand, all the information you need is right there in the game and fuckin' hallelujah for that.
It takes a little bit to get into, but eventually I found a flow of knocking down one dungeon after another, while constantly discovering new upgrades to expand my radius of exploration. Classic Zeldas are a little like Metroidvanias, and if you like that sort of thing, you'll like this one a lot.
The setting itself is one of the weaker points. Zelda has never particularly exceled at story, and I'm not really looking for that here anyway, but I did find that while Link to the Past's world is fun to explore, it feels disjointed and bland from a worldbuilding standpoint. How is there only a single small village in the entirety of Hyrule's kingdom? The answer is, because the gameplay takes much more precedence over anything else. It leads to a world that feels 80% unlived in, or in the very least severely skeeved towards royalty, where castles, churches, temples, and other testaments to gods and the rich seem more important than providing accommodations for the common people.
And I mean, I don't think the creators were intending to get that deep and political, so it comes off as a case of ludonarrative dissonance, where the focus on providing you big places to explore shafts the ability to create an intriguing world surrounding it. The world is fun to explore. But it's not interesting enough to immerse yourself into, is the point.
One other criticism is the dungeon music. The first main three dungeons have a really good song accompanying them, but the later 7 replace it with... what do I even call it? Anxiety music? Kind of like Zelda 1's dungeon theme, it gets pretty grating to listen to after a while. For a place you'll be spending a lot of time solving puzzles and figuring your way around, these things need more relaxing themes to go along with them. Ocarina of Time would figure this out thankfully. This one didn't.
So, summing it up: Very good QoL changes, pretty good exploration and gameplay, a mostly fantastic soundtrack barring the Dark World dungeon theme, contrasted against an uninteresting setting. It's a minor enough problem to the point where it really shouldn't get in the way of your enjoyment, but to me, Link to the Past could've been a little something more. At least what it is now, is solid enough.
There's a lot to praise about the gameplay. Your sword has a greater amount of range, the dungeons are better varied, the overworld is full of neat events, NPC's, and secrets to find, and there's a map! Like, a full one! You press a button, and an entire lay of the land and where you are on it shows up. No more guides or manuals required, no more pen 'n paper on hand, all the information you need is right there in the game and fuckin' hallelujah for that.
It takes a little bit to get into, but eventually I found a flow of knocking down one dungeon after another, while constantly discovering new upgrades to expand my radius of exploration. Classic Zeldas are a little like Metroidvanias, and if you like that sort of thing, you'll like this one a lot.
The setting itself is one of the weaker points. Zelda has never particularly exceled at story, and I'm not really looking for that here anyway, but I did find that while Link to the Past's world is fun to explore, it feels disjointed and bland from a worldbuilding standpoint. How is there only a single small village in the entirety of Hyrule's kingdom? The answer is, because the gameplay takes much more precedence over anything else. It leads to a world that feels 80% unlived in, or in the very least severely skeeved towards royalty, where castles, churches, temples, and other testaments to gods and the rich seem more important than providing accommodations for the common people.
And I mean, I don't think the creators were intending to get that deep and political, so it comes off as a case of ludonarrative dissonance, where the focus on providing you big places to explore shafts the ability to create an intriguing world surrounding it. The world is fun to explore. But it's not interesting enough to immerse yourself into, is the point.
One other criticism is the dungeon music. The first main three dungeons have a really good song accompanying them, but the later 7 replace it with... what do I even call it? Anxiety music? Kind of like Zelda 1's dungeon theme, it gets pretty grating to listen to after a while. For a place you'll be spending a lot of time solving puzzles and figuring your way around, these things need more relaxing themes to go along with them. Ocarina of Time would figure this out thankfully. This one didn't.
So, summing it up: Very good QoL changes, pretty good exploration and gameplay, a mostly fantastic soundtrack barring the Dark World dungeon theme, contrasted against an uninteresting setting. It's a minor enough problem to the point where it really shouldn't get in the way of your enjoyment, but to me, Link to the Past could've been a little something more. At least what it is now, is solid enough.
The problem with having some of my first Metroidvania experiences be from the 2000's onward, is that I've been spoiled rotten on the amount of QoL that Wonder Boy III paved the way for. Although I respect anybody who enjoys this game (more power to you!), I, uh... didn't click.
Coming back to this one, I've struggled to remain engaged. The premise is interesting enough, being able to acquire items and unique animal transformations, each of which packs their own ability and allows you to explore further areas. The problem for me, was that the areas weren't interesting enough to be explored. You know those old Arcadey games where you've got a sword, and you're just holding right for the most part while swinging your weapon to one-hit kill oncoming threats? Like hack 'n slash games in which attacking takes significantly more precedence over platforming. That's what Wonder Boy's design feels like, these long horizontal flat stretches broken up by dungeons with even more horizontal stretches of enemy onslaughts.
There are some things the game does to try and spice things up, such as underwater areas, and wall climbing, but these things aren't enough to break up what you're gonna be doing for the whole game, which is run and slash. And with the game's basic combat feel, plus the game running at a lower frame rate (it seemed like 30) compared to most games of that time, the gameplay does not feel smooth and satisfying enough to justify trekking through it, especially in the instances where you might get stuck and will have to redo the areas you've already explored just to confirm if you didn't miss something.
I also wasn't a fan of the animal transformations being relegated to specific rooms, and would've rather preferred the option to transform into any animal with the press of a button, or via my menu whenever I wanted. A map could've been great too. As it currently is, I was not able to remember the specific locations of every animal transformation room, and sometimes I wound up in a room that required an animal that I wasn't currently transformed into. So, time to figure out where's the nearest transformation room, I guess! It was inconvenient and time-wasting.
In the future, I'm still interested in checking out the remake of Dragon's Trap, as I loved the art I saw in it, and am hopeful that it'll iron out some of my gripes about the lack of a map and the overly simplistic combat feel. Without those things, Dragon's Trap is a game full of neat ideas with a dull execution, and I wish I could've enjoyed this one a lot more than I did.
Coming back to this one, I've struggled to remain engaged. The premise is interesting enough, being able to acquire items and unique animal transformations, each of which packs their own ability and allows you to explore further areas. The problem for me, was that the areas weren't interesting enough to be explored. You know those old Arcadey games where you've got a sword, and you're just holding right for the most part while swinging your weapon to one-hit kill oncoming threats? Like hack 'n slash games in which attacking takes significantly more precedence over platforming. That's what Wonder Boy's design feels like, these long horizontal flat stretches broken up by dungeons with even more horizontal stretches of enemy onslaughts.
There are some things the game does to try and spice things up, such as underwater areas, and wall climbing, but these things aren't enough to break up what you're gonna be doing for the whole game, which is run and slash. And with the game's basic combat feel, plus the game running at a lower frame rate (it seemed like 30) compared to most games of that time, the gameplay does not feel smooth and satisfying enough to justify trekking through it, especially in the instances where you might get stuck and will have to redo the areas you've already explored just to confirm if you didn't miss something.
I also wasn't a fan of the animal transformations being relegated to specific rooms, and would've rather preferred the option to transform into any animal with the press of a button, or via my menu whenever I wanted. A map could've been great too. As it currently is, I was not able to remember the specific locations of every animal transformation room, and sometimes I wound up in a room that required an animal that I wasn't currently transformed into. So, time to figure out where's the nearest transformation room, I guess! It was inconvenient and time-wasting.
In the future, I'm still interested in checking out the remake of Dragon's Trap, as I loved the art I saw in it, and am hopeful that it'll iron out some of my gripes about the lack of a map and the overly simplistic combat feel. Without those things, Dragon's Trap is a game full of neat ideas with a dull execution, and I wish I could've enjoyed this one a lot more than I did.