TheMaxine
1994
First things first, I'm gonna go on record and say that the japanese version of this game is the way to go. Not only did the western version double the difficulty of everything, it also... neglected to translate any of the dialogue and cutscenes from the japanese version, so it just chucks them out altogether. There's a fan translation of this version of the game, and I wholeheartedly recommend it over what the west half-heartedly gave us.
With that said, Dynamite Headdy is the type of game where even through several completed playthroughs, I'm still kinda struggling to wrap my thoughts around it. It's like a platformer, with the pacing of a run 'n gun. That is to say, it almost feels like I'm supposed to play more methodically, but the game is just blasting through its mechanics and setpieces at such a rapid-fire pace that I feel like I'm not being given time to digest any of it.
Despite this, I can't help but admire the creativity on display. Headdy leans headdily into its stage play aesthetic, far more than Mario 3 ever did. Every stage is an act of a play, filled with blatant props substituting the sky, spotlights, behind the scenes background elements, and - on a side note - the occasional ridiculously high-quality voice clip that made me double take my prior understanding of what the Genesis sound chip could handle.
This is a Treasure title, through and through. Their technical prowess, penchant for weirdness, and thrilling setpieces are all present here, and are all worth experiencing. It's just... it feels like there's a difference between me thinking "This game is really cool," versus "This game is fun to play," the latter of which I don't find myself thinking as much. It's not bad to play either, nor is it clunky. Maybe the problem is that whereas the aesthetic is very focused, the gameplay is not. There's tons of powerups, but few of them contribute towards a fun flow of movement that I normally expect out of platformers. Headdy carries no momentum, no running button, he isn't much more other than servicable to play as.
It's the kind of situation where the style of the game carries everything else. And man, if there's anything that'll win you over, it's the style. The amount of scenarios present here are all wild and crazy beyond all imagination. And yet, for all it does, there's just that one tiny thing missing that makes me wonder if the simplicity of the controls not matching up to the complexity of the level variety creates an awkward balance of design priority. In the sense that the gameplay and the variety should've been equally prioritized, but clearly, one thing took precedence, and thus Headdy winds up as "fun enough," but could it have been more fun?
Yeah, again, it's difficult for me to collect my thoughts on Headdy. I love what it's doing, I highly respect it just for being a game that the developers had complete freedom over. But it feels like it's doing too much within too little time, and I guess it makes it difficult to keep a lot of it in your memory once you're done. Perhaps that's not a bad thing, though. It just means that my next playthrough is going to still feel fresh.
With that said, Dynamite Headdy is the type of game where even through several completed playthroughs, I'm still kinda struggling to wrap my thoughts around it. It's like a platformer, with the pacing of a run 'n gun. That is to say, it almost feels like I'm supposed to play more methodically, but the game is just blasting through its mechanics and setpieces at such a rapid-fire pace that I feel like I'm not being given time to digest any of it.
Despite this, I can't help but admire the creativity on display. Headdy leans headdily into its stage play aesthetic, far more than Mario 3 ever did. Every stage is an act of a play, filled with blatant props substituting the sky, spotlights, behind the scenes background elements, and - on a side note - the occasional ridiculously high-quality voice clip that made me double take my prior understanding of what the Genesis sound chip could handle.
This is a Treasure title, through and through. Their technical prowess, penchant for weirdness, and thrilling setpieces are all present here, and are all worth experiencing. It's just... it feels like there's a difference between me thinking "This game is really cool," versus "This game is fun to play," the latter of which I don't find myself thinking as much. It's not bad to play either, nor is it clunky. Maybe the problem is that whereas the aesthetic is very focused, the gameplay is not. There's tons of powerups, but few of them contribute towards a fun flow of movement that I normally expect out of platformers. Headdy carries no momentum, no running button, he isn't much more other than servicable to play as.
It's the kind of situation where the style of the game carries everything else. And man, if there's anything that'll win you over, it's the style. The amount of scenarios present here are all wild and crazy beyond all imagination. And yet, for all it does, there's just that one tiny thing missing that makes me wonder if the simplicity of the controls not matching up to the complexity of the level variety creates an awkward balance of design priority. In the sense that the gameplay and the variety should've been equally prioritized, but clearly, one thing took precedence, and thus Headdy winds up as "fun enough," but could it have been more fun?
Yeah, again, it's difficult for me to collect my thoughts on Headdy. I love what it's doing, I highly respect it just for being a game that the developers had complete freedom over. But it feels like it's doing too much within too little time, and I guess it makes it difficult to keep a lot of it in your memory once you're done. Perhaps that's not a bad thing, though. It just means that my next playthrough is going to still feel fresh.
(Used romhack to revert difficulty to the Japanese original)
Coming into Lunar, I was filled with a sense of dread. The last game I played that was published by Working Designs was Cosmic Fantasy 2, and my review on that one is far from polite. Reading up some of the reviews on Lunar, I started to worry that this was gonna turn out pretty much like that game. Monotonous combat, a wasted storyline, and me walking out of it thanking Althena that it's finally over.
To my surprise, Lunar actually turned out to be... a little better than I expected, and felt like a palette cleanser after some of the more recent RPG's I had to put up with, Romancing SaGa haunting my dreams day and night withstanding. Is its combat complex? Oh, god no, there is an auto-battle command, and you can spam that shit to kingdom come from beginning to the very end, it is as basic as it gets. However, encounter rates are forgiving. Grinding is minimal, I only did it twice across my 20-hour run, and I'm not sure if I even needed to. The music is varied, and pleasant on the ears. The magic can be actually useful at times, whoa, now there's an incredible thing. You spend plenty of time exploring towns and getting new bits of story, and I overall think it's enough to prevent you from getting bored.
Of course, you'll need to bring your appreciation for 90's anime aesthetics with you for the "not bored" claim to really hold up, because if you aren't fond of that, then I'm afraid there's not much else left for you. Back in 1992, CD Audio is still a fancy new toy for developers to play around with, and Lunar places all its bets on making that the main charm of the game. Something I've found especially charming are the character intros. Everytime you run into an important character, a heroic jingle plays and they get some unique introductory art to go along with it. If Lunar was actually a popular game instead of a cult classic, these intros feel like something you could meme to hell and back. Put Jerma in one of these, except he gets the evil character intro theme.
The battle system uses a slight variation of the formation mechanic, in which the further a character is placed in the back row, the more turns they need to walk up to the enemy and hit them. In other words, it's not like most RPG's where the characters are swinging swords at each other from 20 feet away. It's slightly more real-time than that, where the character needs to physically walk up to the enemy and close the distance before being able to land a hit. Same goes for enemies landing physical damage on you. If a character's too far away, they'll move a little closer, but not close enough to land a hit. This was kinda interesting at first, but as usual, it is remedied by equipping back-row characters with long range weaponry and making use of magic spells. Once you figure that out, it's no different from any other RPG system.
Probably the biggest annoyance with the gameplay is the lack of creative dungeon design. Oops! All Mazes! Never was a fan of this sort of design, especially for RPG's where it becomes all the more clear that they are there just to waste your time. Throw in some break rooms, maybe some puzzle rooms where there are no battle encounters, a minigame, something that doesn't make it the one thousandth cave I've traveled through.
Lunar may also be likely to draw you in based on its writing alone. It's weird, wacky, tends to break the fourth wall... It's kinda mean-spirited at times. That's Working Designs showing their stuff right there, baby. Exile & Cosmic Fantasy had slivers of this, but it seems like Lunar was the game where they truly just up and went "fuck it, we're publishing this, it's our game now." There are pros to this... there are also problems with it that ring a little bit of ego.
Bear in mind, I'm not that much of a purist, it's fine for a localization to not be 1:1 with the original, and sometimes there are creative liberties taken that make the localization better than the original. However, it is both funny and partially infuriating to see this game's manual talking about the importance of staying faithful to the source material, before one sentence later talking about how they rewrote the opening theme song's lyrics to be less "lovey-dovey" and more "urgent", and claiming it's a change for the better. Seeing the localizer just outright contradict themselves like this, not to mention outright admitting their version is an improvement feels like it's lacking in the humble department.
Similarly, I take some concern with Working Design's claim that they had to replace various jokes to be more understandable for American audiences. And that's fine to do. I get it, some Japanese humor is too reliant on wordplays, puns, and the country's culture to be translatable. But, what's your excuse if you're inserting pop culture references into scenes that didn't have any? Legends of Localization did a short little article about one instance of the game doing this, and it's unfortunate they never did a more thorough look at one of these games, as immediately my curiosity wants to know how many more instances of this are there.
To be a localizer, you need to have the skill of a writer. A straight translation of a foreign language is unlikely to sound natural, so it's up to you to decide how to reshuffle everything and take advantage of your language's unique vocabulary in order for the script to flow naturally, while still preserving the overall intent of the original. In that sense, a localization always has some degree of opinion to it. However, taking a fantasy setting like this and essentially turning it into a parody of itself feels like steering the ship wheel a bit too far in the wrong direction. Rather than enhancing what's already there, you changed it completely and made it yours. That's where the problem arises for me.
Yes, your localization was amusing. Kinda dumb, but it did make for a more entertaining game at the end of the day, and it's possible I might've found Lunar kinda boring if it was more accurate. But I feel dirty admitting that. Because for all the genuine care and love that you poured into these publishing efforts, it's baffling that the one thing you didn't pay heed to is consistent faithfulness to the tone. The game's climatic moment, and what I've personally found to be the most memorable one, is undercut by a fourth wall break followed by a comment about spanking the villain. It's hard to say whether this was part of the original script or not, I don't speak the language so I'm not qualified to fully explore this. However, either the case is that the original script kinda ruined the mood of this scene, or the localizers did. Either way the jokes could've worked if they fit naturally, but instead they consist of dated references, and scat humor that make it blatantly clear they don't belong.
Anyway, that's probably gonna be the last time I rant about my localization woes, otherwise it's gonna get tiring. Is Lustar: The Silver Nar worth your time? Ehhh, maybe. For me, Lunar came at just the right time after a series of painfully slow and difficult RPG's. Lunar is not slow, it's not difficult, and it has some charm to it, some of it for the better and some of it not. If you ran out of popular RPG's to play and are hunting for some more obscure ones, I don't think you can go wrong with this one. Good enough for what it does, but the lack of complexity ultimately takes away any potential replayability. I'm interested in seeing how the later Lunar games hold up, including their remakes.
Coming into Lunar, I was filled with a sense of dread. The last game I played that was published by Working Designs was Cosmic Fantasy 2, and my review on that one is far from polite. Reading up some of the reviews on Lunar, I started to worry that this was gonna turn out pretty much like that game. Monotonous combat, a wasted storyline, and me walking out of it thanking Althena that it's finally over.
To my surprise, Lunar actually turned out to be... a little better than I expected, and felt like a palette cleanser after some of the more recent RPG's I had to put up with, Romancing SaGa haunting my dreams day and night withstanding. Is its combat complex? Oh, god no, there is an auto-battle command, and you can spam that shit to kingdom come from beginning to the very end, it is as basic as it gets. However, encounter rates are forgiving. Grinding is minimal, I only did it twice across my 20-hour run, and I'm not sure if I even needed to. The music is varied, and pleasant on the ears. The magic can be actually useful at times, whoa, now there's an incredible thing. You spend plenty of time exploring towns and getting new bits of story, and I overall think it's enough to prevent you from getting bored.
Of course, you'll need to bring your appreciation for 90's anime aesthetics with you for the "not bored" claim to really hold up, because if you aren't fond of that, then I'm afraid there's not much else left for you. Back in 1992, CD Audio is still a fancy new toy for developers to play around with, and Lunar places all its bets on making that the main charm of the game. Something I've found especially charming are the character intros. Everytime you run into an important character, a heroic jingle plays and they get some unique introductory art to go along with it. If Lunar was actually a popular game instead of a cult classic, these intros feel like something you could meme to hell and back. Put Jerma in one of these, except he gets the evil character intro theme.
The battle system uses a slight variation of the formation mechanic, in which the further a character is placed in the back row, the more turns they need to walk up to the enemy and hit them. In other words, it's not like most RPG's where the characters are swinging swords at each other from 20 feet away. It's slightly more real-time than that, where the character needs to physically walk up to the enemy and close the distance before being able to land a hit. Same goes for enemies landing physical damage on you. If a character's too far away, they'll move a little closer, but not close enough to land a hit. This was kinda interesting at first, but as usual, it is remedied by equipping back-row characters with long range weaponry and making use of magic spells. Once you figure that out, it's no different from any other RPG system.
Probably the biggest annoyance with the gameplay is the lack of creative dungeon design. Oops! All Mazes! Never was a fan of this sort of design, especially for RPG's where it becomes all the more clear that they are there just to waste your time. Throw in some break rooms, maybe some puzzle rooms where there are no battle encounters, a minigame, something that doesn't make it the one thousandth cave I've traveled through.
Lunar may also be likely to draw you in based on its writing alone. It's weird, wacky, tends to break the fourth wall... It's kinda mean-spirited at times. That's Working Designs showing their stuff right there, baby. Exile & Cosmic Fantasy had slivers of this, but it seems like Lunar was the game where they truly just up and went "fuck it, we're publishing this, it's our game now." There are pros to this... there are also problems with it that ring a little bit of ego.
Bear in mind, I'm not that much of a purist, it's fine for a localization to not be 1:1 with the original, and sometimes there are creative liberties taken that make the localization better than the original. However, it is both funny and partially infuriating to see this game's manual talking about the importance of staying faithful to the source material, before one sentence later talking about how they rewrote the opening theme song's lyrics to be less "lovey-dovey" and more "urgent", and claiming it's a change for the better. Seeing the localizer just outright contradict themselves like this, not to mention outright admitting their version is an improvement feels like it's lacking in the humble department.
Similarly, I take some concern with Working Design's claim that they had to replace various jokes to be more understandable for American audiences. And that's fine to do. I get it, some Japanese humor is too reliant on wordplays, puns, and the country's culture to be translatable. But, what's your excuse if you're inserting pop culture references into scenes that didn't have any? Legends of Localization did a short little article about one instance of the game doing this, and it's unfortunate they never did a more thorough look at one of these games, as immediately my curiosity wants to know how many more instances of this are there.
To be a localizer, you need to have the skill of a writer. A straight translation of a foreign language is unlikely to sound natural, so it's up to you to decide how to reshuffle everything and take advantage of your language's unique vocabulary in order for the script to flow naturally, while still preserving the overall intent of the original. In that sense, a localization always has some degree of opinion to it. However, taking a fantasy setting like this and essentially turning it into a parody of itself feels like steering the ship wheel a bit too far in the wrong direction. Rather than enhancing what's already there, you changed it completely and made it yours. That's where the problem arises for me.
Yes, your localization was amusing. Kinda dumb, but it did make for a more entertaining game at the end of the day, and it's possible I might've found Lunar kinda boring if it was more accurate. But I feel dirty admitting that. Because for all the genuine care and love that you poured into these publishing efforts, it's baffling that the one thing you didn't pay heed to is consistent faithfulness to the tone. The game's climatic moment, and what I've personally found to be the most memorable one, is undercut by a fourth wall break followed by a comment about spanking the villain. It's hard to say whether this was part of the original script or not, I don't speak the language so I'm not qualified to fully explore this. However, either the case is that the original script kinda ruined the mood of this scene, or the localizers did. Either way the jokes could've worked if they fit naturally, but instead they consist of dated references, and scat humor that make it blatantly clear they don't belong.
Anyway, that's probably gonna be the last time I rant about my localization woes, otherwise it's gonna get tiring. Is Lustar: The Silver Nar worth your time? Ehhh, maybe. For me, Lunar came at just the right time after a series of painfully slow and difficult RPG's. Lunar is not slow, it's not difficult, and it has some charm to it, some of it for the better and some of it not. If you ran out of popular RPG's to play and are hunting for some more obscure ones, I don't think you can go wrong with this one. Good enough for what it does, but the lack of complexity ultimately takes away any potential replayability. I'm interested in seeing how the later Lunar games hold up, including their remakes.
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?
1994
After over four Gameboy games that spent their time regurtitating level themes from the NES Mega Mans, the final fifth Gameboy game throws in a surprise: it's a fully original title! Hey, whoever gave up on the Gameboy games after two or three of them, did you hear me?! THIS ONE'S ORIGINAL! COME BACK!
They had the opportunity to throw in some levels from Mega Man 5 & 6, and call it a day. Instead, Mega Man V chose to create its own robot masters and its own set of stages, centered around cosmic planetary themes. One boss is called Venus, the other is Jupiter, and so on, and so forth. Levels are imbued with newly-created mechanics to spice things up here and there, and I've found the arsenal of weapons to be more interesting this time around, such as a weapon that saps enemy health and gives it to you.
The game feels like it's trying to do some creative things from a team that wanted to push the boundaries of what was expected from them, to create a Mega Man title that they could call their own. There's a sincerity to it, a much greater sincerity than some of the more recent Mega Man games that seem to exist just for the sake of sucking out all the honey from the formula. Of course, the gameplay here isn't anything new, it's still Mega Man, you still platform and shoot things to death... it's the aesthetic that shines brighter, it's the music that hits harder (I love the Venus theme, it feels so unconventional for a Mega Man title but it gets stuck in your head so easily), it's the level design that's more enjoyable. It's the same, yet it feels so much fresher in all the subtle ways.
Overall, an underrated title. It only took them 5 tries, but Capcom finally landed on a Gameboy Mega Man that's memorable, and would be likely to make you come back for more, especially as a Mega Man fan. Highly recommended.
They had the opportunity to throw in some levels from Mega Man 5 & 6, and call it a day. Instead, Mega Man V chose to create its own robot masters and its own set of stages, centered around cosmic planetary themes. One boss is called Venus, the other is Jupiter, and so on, and so forth. Levels are imbued with newly-created mechanics to spice things up here and there, and I've found the arsenal of weapons to be more interesting this time around, such as a weapon that saps enemy health and gives it to you.
The game feels like it's trying to do some creative things from a team that wanted to push the boundaries of what was expected from them, to create a Mega Man title that they could call their own. There's a sincerity to it, a much greater sincerity than some of the more recent Mega Man games that seem to exist just for the sake of sucking out all the honey from the formula. Of course, the gameplay here isn't anything new, it's still Mega Man, you still platform and shoot things to death... it's the aesthetic that shines brighter, it's the music that hits harder (I love the Venus theme, it feels so unconventional for a Mega Man title but it gets stuck in your head so easily), it's the level design that's more enjoyable. It's the same, yet it feels so much fresher in all the subtle ways.
Overall, an underrated title. It only took them 5 tries, but Capcom finally landed on a Gameboy Mega Man that's memorable, and would be likely to make you come back for more, especially as a Mega Man fan. Highly recommended.
1994
There's more to this game than meets the eye, and it seems that Nintendo wanted you to think just that. Which, in hindsight? Not the wisest strategy. You're gonna look at the box art, and you're likely to think "Donkey Kong? Like, the original one? Do I really need to play a Gameboy version of that, among all the other ports available?" Then you play it, and you kinda think to yourself "Yep, it's... Donkey Kong alright." The same four stages, the same goal, what appears to seemingly be the same mechanics.
It's not until those four stages are over that the game shows you exactly why you should be distinguishing it by the title of "Donkey Kong '94", instead of calling it another Donkey Kong port. There's a whole new game hidden behind its innoucuous appearance, a reimagining if you will, of the original concept. It's not about earning a high score anymore, it's got a sense of progression that's very akin to other Mario games. Traveling across a series of 9 worlds, level by level, with boss fights in-between. It's a game with a longevity meant to last, and... it's pretty damn well put together.
This game would also be the first to give Mario a more acrobatic moveset, stuff like side jumps, higher jumps achieved by timing your button presses as you touch the ground... while I'm not certain if Mario 64 was directly inspired by this game, or whether its inclusion of similar moves was a pure coincidence, it's still neat to see these moves date further back than what most people may think. Donkey Kong '94 overall plays quite nicely with these moves, allowing you to execute some crafty tricks here and there to traverse these bite-sized levels more efficiently. There was lots of thought and care put behind this entry, and I really think everyone needs to give it a go.
So, why did I abandon it? It's purely a problem of my own, not with the game, the 3.5 star rating is a subjective one. But, something that has to be kept in mind is that Donkey Kong '94 has the progression of a Mario game, the platforming of a Mario game, but a much heavier puzzle-centric design that may turn off some Mario fans, and that includes me.
The puzzles that require solving start off light enough, just a little bit of managable thinking. The later levels, not so much. There eventually comes a point where every level or two had me stumped. And while that's not necessarily a bad thing, (after all, a puzzle that doesn't stump you is not a good puzzle) I have come to accept that I'm not really a puzzle person unless we're talking about infrequent, occasional puzzles that are frequently broken up by larger doses of straightforward design. Donkey Kong '94 eventually lets go of its straightforwardness, and becomes a fully consistent puzzle game that proves to be too much for my forehead to handle.
Something that doesn't help is the time limit, which I find anti-thetical to a game that emphasizes puzzles over action. If I have to do a puzzle, I'd rather be given all the time in the world to think about it, and experiment with the possibilities I have, instead of being pressured to solve it as fast as possible. I think the time limit especially is what killed my enjoyment of the game, as even if I decided to adapt a more patient mentality towards how to play the game, it is clear that the game itself does not want me to be patient, and feels like it's going against its own messaging.
For puzzle fans, I'd rate this 4 stars. For myself and my own experience, it was a 3.5, cutting it kinda close to a straight 3 with some of the later levels failing to maintain my engagement, and ultimately causing me to drop it. While the game is based on the Arcade original, its goals are far different. Different from the original, and different from most Mario games. Different enough that I am not part of the audience that will end up enjoying it.
It's not until those four stages are over that the game shows you exactly why you should be distinguishing it by the title of "Donkey Kong '94", instead of calling it another Donkey Kong port. There's a whole new game hidden behind its innoucuous appearance, a reimagining if you will, of the original concept. It's not about earning a high score anymore, it's got a sense of progression that's very akin to other Mario games. Traveling across a series of 9 worlds, level by level, with boss fights in-between. It's a game with a longevity meant to last, and... it's pretty damn well put together.
This game would also be the first to give Mario a more acrobatic moveset, stuff like side jumps, higher jumps achieved by timing your button presses as you touch the ground... while I'm not certain if Mario 64 was directly inspired by this game, or whether its inclusion of similar moves was a pure coincidence, it's still neat to see these moves date further back than what most people may think. Donkey Kong '94 overall plays quite nicely with these moves, allowing you to execute some crafty tricks here and there to traverse these bite-sized levels more efficiently. There was lots of thought and care put behind this entry, and I really think everyone needs to give it a go.
So, why did I abandon it? It's purely a problem of my own, not with the game, the 3.5 star rating is a subjective one. But, something that has to be kept in mind is that Donkey Kong '94 has the progression of a Mario game, the platforming of a Mario game, but a much heavier puzzle-centric design that may turn off some Mario fans, and that includes me.
The puzzles that require solving start off light enough, just a little bit of managable thinking. The later levels, not so much. There eventually comes a point where every level or two had me stumped. And while that's not necessarily a bad thing, (after all, a puzzle that doesn't stump you is not a good puzzle) I have come to accept that I'm not really a puzzle person unless we're talking about infrequent, occasional puzzles that are frequently broken up by larger doses of straightforward design. Donkey Kong '94 eventually lets go of its straightforwardness, and becomes a fully consistent puzzle game that proves to be too much for my forehead to handle.
Something that doesn't help is the time limit, which I find anti-thetical to a game that emphasizes puzzles over action. If I have to do a puzzle, I'd rather be given all the time in the world to think about it, and experiment with the possibilities I have, instead of being pressured to solve it as fast as possible. I think the time limit especially is what killed my enjoyment of the game, as even if I decided to adapt a more patient mentality towards how to play the game, it is clear that the game itself does not want me to be patient, and feels like it's going against its own messaging.
For puzzle fans, I'd rate this 4 stars. For myself and my own experience, it was a 3.5, cutting it kinda close to a straight 3 with some of the later levels failing to maintain my engagement, and ultimately causing me to drop it. While the game is based on the Arcade original, its goals are far different. Different from the original, and different from most Mario games. Different enough that I am not part of the audience that will end up enjoying it.
1994
Because I grew up with the later Metroid titles, coming back to Super Metroid takes some adjusting. The controls are floatier, the inclusion of a run button feels a bit odd, and navigation can get pretty obtuse at times, especially since the game does not mark doors on your map, meaning what you might mistake for a dead end, could actually be progress. There's still some semblance of ironing out the kinks going on here, and it isn't what I would personally consider as the perfect Metroid experience.
But if I compared to this to the original Metroid 1 and 2 instead, then Super Metroid is a humongous leap in quality, and the first Metroid game I would feel confident recommending to people. Moreover, after I tried the game with the "Super Metroid: Redux" romhack, my prior nitpicks quickly faded away, and I could enjoy Super Metroid for what it really was: A fantastic metroidvania, well deserving of its praise, and one that was very ahead of its time.
One thing I hold a lot of praise for is its cinematic quality. In an age where games primarily positioned themselves as arcade experiences, Super Metroid expands on what Metroid 2 was too limited to do within the confines of the Gameboy, emphasizing a dark and atmospheric ambience. The action of the introductory sequence is preceded by a quiet solitude, dead bodies strewn all over, creating a story through its visuals before revealing the ultimate cause of the massacre. This trick is repeated one more time afterwards, settling you into a desolate and familiar planet, allowing you to soak in how it's changed since the last time you were here, only bringing out the real threats once you have disturbed and alerted the entire planet to your solitary and vulnerable presence.
And I mean, then there's the ending sequence, which I would rather not spoil, but if we're talking sequences that give me goosebumps, Super Metroid's ending may be the earliest possible example of this. It's not about giving you the ultimate challenge, but rather, it's to reinforce one last time that though you may be a powerful and legendary bounty hunter, you are still one single person at the end of the day. It is to reinforce that Samus Aran may get as powerful as she wants to, but that doesn't mean what she's fighting against will be any less unknown and unpredictable. This was not an adventure, it was a do-or-die mission where survival was only just barely obtained. And the game portrays this in the most visceral and cool way it possibly could've.
The exploration of Super Metroid is deceptively open-ended, offering next to no guidance, and further cementing the feeling of being stranded and alone. Thoroughness is recommended, as is memorization of certain inaccessible locations to an extent. But more than that, you'll want to accept quickly that your only goal in this game is to just go where the flow takes you. Don't hunt for anything specific. Just get lost in these caves, and study their layouts, until the time finally comes when you know your way around it all.
The lack of guidance also means that there is no predictable formula towards how soon or late you get your major upgrades, which makes the abrupt discovery of them all the more exciting. They could be at any corner, under any crevace, and it's likely that getting just one of them will change the way you play the game, and grant access to many possibilities that were previously not available. This is of course, a granted for Metroidvanias, but Super Metroid was the game that truly popularized the satisfaction of this kinda game design, and so it deserves the dibs on redundant descriptions of a genre's staple.
There is one problem that I've found with the exploration, and while not a huge deal, it is one that persists through pretty much every Metroid game there is. It is what I call "the missile dilemma." Among the various unique upgrades, Missile Capacity Upgrades are the most common collectible you'll find in a Metroid game. They are a part of what makes Samus stronger just as any other upgrade, but comparatively, they are the least exciting upgrades in these games. The dilemma stems from the fact that missile capacity upgrades also tend to be some of the hardest upgrades to obtain.
For balancing reasons, there's plenty of them that are quite simple to procure, but some of these things are locked behind some of the hardest challenges in the game, ones that require more advanced execution of the shinespark technique. And, my argument towards that is, for all the effort these particular challenges want you to go through, wouldn't it have been more exciting if your reward was a unique upgrade, rather than... another 5 more missiles worth of capacity?
The dilemma is further complicated by the fact that if you were to start gatekeeping important upgrades by putting them into these shinespark challenges, the rate of people who would complete this game would notably diminish. At the same time, the rewards that ARE currently there are underwhelming and not worth the strenuous hassle and multiple attempts worth of practice to reach them. The missiles that you obtain by playing the game casually are plenty enough to get you to the end, so why waste time on obtaining 5 more through a tough shinespark challenge? Just to get 100%? Other than bragging rights, it ain't worth it. But I understand that this is not an easy thing to address, and it's probably for the best that things stay this way rather than the other way around.
Overall, Super Metroid is an oppressive experience, one where it's easy to get overwhelmed by its sense of freedom. But this is to its advantage, crafting a game where a cool thing could be around any corner. Metroid really found its rhythm with this entry, so it's a shame it immediately lost it for about 8 years due to a lack of a N64 title. At least 2002 would go on to make up for Samus's absence with two major games.
Oh, and Save the Animals.
But if I compared to this to the original Metroid 1 and 2 instead, then Super Metroid is a humongous leap in quality, and the first Metroid game I would feel confident recommending to people. Moreover, after I tried the game with the "Super Metroid: Redux" romhack, my prior nitpicks quickly faded away, and I could enjoy Super Metroid for what it really was: A fantastic metroidvania, well deserving of its praise, and one that was very ahead of its time.
One thing I hold a lot of praise for is its cinematic quality. In an age where games primarily positioned themselves as arcade experiences, Super Metroid expands on what Metroid 2 was too limited to do within the confines of the Gameboy, emphasizing a dark and atmospheric ambience. The action of the introductory sequence is preceded by a quiet solitude, dead bodies strewn all over, creating a story through its visuals before revealing the ultimate cause of the massacre. This trick is repeated one more time afterwards, settling you into a desolate and familiar planet, allowing you to soak in how it's changed since the last time you were here, only bringing out the real threats once you have disturbed and alerted the entire planet to your solitary and vulnerable presence.
And I mean, then there's the ending sequence, which I would rather not spoil, but if we're talking sequences that give me goosebumps, Super Metroid's ending may be the earliest possible example of this. It's not about giving you the ultimate challenge, but rather, it's to reinforce one last time that though you may be a powerful and legendary bounty hunter, you are still one single person at the end of the day. It is to reinforce that Samus Aran may get as powerful as she wants to, but that doesn't mean what she's fighting against will be any less unknown and unpredictable. This was not an adventure, it was a do-or-die mission where survival was only just barely obtained. And the game portrays this in the most visceral and cool way it possibly could've.
The exploration of Super Metroid is deceptively open-ended, offering next to no guidance, and further cementing the feeling of being stranded and alone. Thoroughness is recommended, as is memorization of certain inaccessible locations to an extent. But more than that, you'll want to accept quickly that your only goal in this game is to just go where the flow takes you. Don't hunt for anything specific. Just get lost in these caves, and study their layouts, until the time finally comes when you know your way around it all.
The lack of guidance also means that there is no predictable formula towards how soon or late you get your major upgrades, which makes the abrupt discovery of them all the more exciting. They could be at any corner, under any crevace, and it's likely that getting just one of them will change the way you play the game, and grant access to many possibilities that were previously not available. This is of course, a granted for Metroidvanias, but Super Metroid was the game that truly popularized the satisfaction of this kinda game design, and so it deserves the dibs on redundant descriptions of a genre's staple.
There is one problem that I've found with the exploration, and while not a huge deal, it is one that persists through pretty much every Metroid game there is. It is what I call "the missile dilemma." Among the various unique upgrades, Missile Capacity Upgrades are the most common collectible you'll find in a Metroid game. They are a part of what makes Samus stronger just as any other upgrade, but comparatively, they are the least exciting upgrades in these games. The dilemma stems from the fact that missile capacity upgrades also tend to be some of the hardest upgrades to obtain.
For balancing reasons, there's plenty of them that are quite simple to procure, but some of these things are locked behind some of the hardest challenges in the game, ones that require more advanced execution of the shinespark technique. And, my argument towards that is, for all the effort these particular challenges want you to go through, wouldn't it have been more exciting if your reward was a unique upgrade, rather than... another 5 more missiles worth of capacity?
The dilemma is further complicated by the fact that if you were to start gatekeeping important upgrades by putting them into these shinespark challenges, the rate of people who would complete this game would notably diminish. At the same time, the rewards that ARE currently there are underwhelming and not worth the strenuous hassle and multiple attempts worth of practice to reach them. The missiles that you obtain by playing the game casually are plenty enough to get you to the end, so why waste time on obtaining 5 more through a tough shinespark challenge? Just to get 100%? Other than bragging rights, it ain't worth it. But I understand that this is not an easy thing to address, and it's probably for the best that things stay this way rather than the other way around.
Overall, Super Metroid is an oppressive experience, one where it's easy to get overwhelmed by its sense of freedom. But this is to its advantage, crafting a game where a cool thing could be around any corner. Metroid really found its rhythm with this entry, so it's a shame it immediately lost it for about 8 years due to a lack of a N64 title. At least 2002 would go on to make up for Samus's absence with two major games.
Oh, and Save the Animals.
If Sonic 2 wasn't already a big improvement on the Classic Sonic formula, Sonic 3 swoops in and takes the crown by a mile. A game so ambitious, so loaded with unique content, and so tightly polished despite of its scale, it may be as close to a perfect Sonic game as it gets, and most certainly the best platformer on the Genesis. Combined with the "& Knuckles" part, this is a lengthy and fulfilling package that can last you multiple playthroughs worth of discovering new routes and secrets, with tons of levels to do so.
In the first level alone, you go from a beach, to a jungle, to a burning jungle, into some lakes, followed by a chase sequence, culminating in a boss fight in a waterfall-laden area. Every act has its own song, its own mechanic, its own boss. The water level is actually FUN. And the soundtrack, man, the soundtrack. One funky hit after another. This is, and may always be the ultimate Classic Sonic game, the love poured into it was evident, as if Sonic Team wanted to make this their final one.
My only real gripes are centered around the optional content. Firstly, may be a controversial take, I'm not really a fan of the Blue Sphere special stages. They're better than Sonic 2's, but some of the later ones get pretty confusing to navigate. Secondly, unlocking Hyper Sonic requires sacrificing your ability to turn into Super Sonic in order to complete 7 additional special stages, adding up to 14 total. I consider this padding, and even then, I don't think it's worth the hassle, I'd rather just keep Super Sonic. Speaking of, there really should've been an option to turn the Super Sonic music off. This game has so many good-ass songs, that it's a shame that Super Sonic's 15-second loop pretty much overrides the entire soundtrack.
On another note, figuring out the absolute best version of Sonic 3 & Knuckles to play is its own challenge. It's certainly not the Origins version, I'll tell you that much. As you may know, Sonic 3 & Knuckles originally came out as two seperate games, "Sonic 3" and "Sonic & Knuckles", and this is the combined version of those games, intended to be the definitive experience. Problem is, it's missing a boss from the "Sonic 3" part of the game. For that reason, I actually consider playing "Sonic 3" and "Sonic & Knuckles" seperately as the more recommended option, but it does mean that you won't get to keep the emeralds you collected in Sonic 3 once you begin the other game.
I believe there's a romhack and a fanmade PC decompilation that may serve as the true definitive way to play Sonic 3 & Knuckles, although I haven't looked into them too much. But it may be worth doing so. Whichever way you go about it though, you're still in for a good time. Phenomenal fucking game.
In the first level alone, you go from a beach, to a jungle, to a burning jungle, into some lakes, followed by a chase sequence, culminating in a boss fight in a waterfall-laden area. Every act has its own song, its own mechanic, its own boss. The water level is actually FUN. And the soundtrack, man, the soundtrack. One funky hit after another. This is, and may always be the ultimate Classic Sonic game, the love poured into it was evident, as if Sonic Team wanted to make this their final one.
My only real gripes are centered around the optional content. Firstly, may be a controversial take, I'm not really a fan of the Blue Sphere special stages. They're better than Sonic 2's, but some of the later ones get pretty confusing to navigate. Secondly, unlocking Hyper Sonic requires sacrificing your ability to turn into Super Sonic in order to complete 7 additional special stages, adding up to 14 total. I consider this padding, and even then, I don't think it's worth the hassle, I'd rather just keep Super Sonic. Speaking of, there really should've been an option to turn the Super Sonic music off. This game has so many good-ass songs, that it's a shame that Super Sonic's 15-second loop pretty much overrides the entire soundtrack.
On another note, figuring out the absolute best version of Sonic 3 & Knuckles to play is its own challenge. It's certainly not the Origins version, I'll tell you that much. As you may know, Sonic 3 & Knuckles originally came out as two seperate games, "Sonic 3" and "Sonic & Knuckles", and this is the combined version of those games, intended to be the definitive experience. Problem is, it's missing a boss from the "Sonic 3" part of the game. For that reason, I actually consider playing "Sonic 3" and "Sonic & Knuckles" seperately as the more recommended option, but it does mean that you won't get to keep the emeralds you collected in Sonic 3 once you begin the other game.
I believe there's a romhack and a fanmade PC decompilation that may serve as the true definitive way to play Sonic 3 & Knuckles, although I haven't looked into them too much. But it may be worth doing so. Whichever way you go about it though, you're still in for a good time. Phenomenal fucking game.
Who the fuck wanted a Wario game back in 1994? That's my immediate question. Granted, this choice would eventually pay off as Wario became a beloved character in our dollar sign-shaped hearts, alongside some great games coming out in his future (Wario Land 4, Wario World, the WarioWare series...). So my point isn't to disparage Wario's popularity. I'm just incredulous that back when Wario wasn't the known figure he is now, this dev team was given permission to make a Mario game in which Mario is barely existent, in his place being this newcoming greedy goblin creature, and it WORKED. It got him several sequels and two seperate franchises, it worked like a fucking charm, and though I'm happy it happened, it boggles the mind how it did.
With all that said, I feel like the first Wario Land is... an acquired taste. The music, being just one example of that. The controls, being a bigger one. You kinda move into this game expecting Wario to have the same amount of fluidity as Mario Land 2 did, and that's just simply not the case. This is a heavier, stiffer character, and it took me at least half the game to adjust to it. Once you figure out that holding up makes you jump further though, you start abusing that as your main form of movement, and I think that's when things really start clicking.
I still like the nostalgicness of the world map found here, and I appreciate that secret exits may directly alter the world map itself, which in turn may also alter the levels found inside them. I believe the later Wario Lands would make even further extensive use of this idea, while here, it's a neat prototype for what could be done later.
The name of the game is collecting as many coins as you can. It's a similar principle to Luigi's Mansion, the more coins you amass, the better a house you get for your ending. Alternatively, you can spend these coins to earn 1-ups, activate checkpoints, or gamble all those shits away on a double-or-nothing minigame, and let the world watch your face droop in real-time as you once again lose every coin you've amassed over the course of a stage.
That last option isn't exactly fun when it happens, and that minigame is the only real way to get some of those better endings. But, seeing as the endings serve about 5 seconds worth of difference between each one, I think it'd be in your best interest to just completely ignore this aspect of the game, and use the coins on 1-ups instead. The whole gambling thing is stressful, punishing, and completely based on luck. It's not worth the hassle, certainly not worth a waste of your hard-earned coins. Unless you save state your way through it, you dirty scamp you.
Anyway, while I consider this as a good handheld title for its time, is Mario Land 3 worth your time now? Once. Just once. It doesn't feel right to play, but is possible to adjust yourself to, and what you get with that is some pretty alright level design, and a respectable amount of variety that'll carry you through. If you don't care about chronology however, most people will tell you to start with Wario Land 4, and they'd be right. The first Wario Land here, still has some kinks it needs to desperately iron out.
With all that said, I feel like the first Wario Land is... an acquired taste. The music, being just one example of that. The controls, being a bigger one. You kinda move into this game expecting Wario to have the same amount of fluidity as Mario Land 2 did, and that's just simply not the case. This is a heavier, stiffer character, and it took me at least half the game to adjust to it. Once you figure out that holding up makes you jump further though, you start abusing that as your main form of movement, and I think that's when things really start clicking.
I still like the nostalgicness of the world map found here, and I appreciate that secret exits may directly alter the world map itself, which in turn may also alter the levels found inside them. I believe the later Wario Lands would make even further extensive use of this idea, while here, it's a neat prototype for what could be done later.
The name of the game is collecting as many coins as you can. It's a similar principle to Luigi's Mansion, the more coins you amass, the better a house you get for your ending. Alternatively, you can spend these coins to earn 1-ups, activate checkpoints, or gamble all those shits away on a double-or-nothing minigame, and let the world watch your face droop in real-time as you once again lose every coin you've amassed over the course of a stage.
That last option isn't exactly fun when it happens, and that minigame is the only real way to get some of those better endings. But, seeing as the endings serve about 5 seconds worth of difference between each one, I think it'd be in your best interest to just completely ignore this aspect of the game, and use the coins on 1-ups instead. The whole gambling thing is stressful, punishing, and completely based on luck. It's not worth the hassle, certainly not worth a waste of your hard-earned coins. Unless you save state your way through it, you dirty scamp you.
Anyway, while I consider this as a good handheld title for its time, is Mario Land 3 worth your time now? Once. Just once. It doesn't feel right to play, but is possible to adjust yourself to, and what you get with that is some pretty alright level design, and a respectable amount of variety that'll carry you through. If you don't care about chronology however, most people will tell you to start with Wario Land 4, and they'd be right. The first Wario Land here, still has some kinks it needs to desperately iron out.
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.
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.
Spinball does something that I don't quite see anywhere else: A pinball game, in which you're not constrained to just one static pinball table, but rather, you're plopped into an exploration-based level with pinball mechanics inside of it. Mild aspects of collect-a-thon gameplay are presented here, where you find ways to get to the Chaos Emeralds, eventually unlocking the boss once you've amassed them all, before you're thrown into the next of the game's 4 stages.
While unconventional, I think was a smart way to do a Sonic-themed pinball game, and could potentially make it more appealing for non-pinball fans. (or would it be more apt to say "pinball non-fans...?") But, I'm only talking about the non-pinball fans that have a chance of getting into pinball through this. I'm a non-pinball fan who has next to no chance of ever getting into pinball at all. The only other pinball game I played is that one that came free with Windows XP, and not even because I like playing it, the sounds just make me feel 8 years old again. And I only ever played this one because as a Sonic fan, we are clinically deranged.
Anyway, when it comes to pinball, I don't know how to make it work. I don't know the tricks. I might try my best to use the flippers at JUST the right time to launch the ball where I want it to go, but it'll end up somewhere else, probably in the bottomless pit. Spinball either requires a ridiculous amount of precision, or some semblance of luck, it's hard to tell, and I'm certainly not one to dissect the inner workings of it. Just ain't my thing.
While unconventional, I think was a smart way to do a Sonic-themed pinball game, and could potentially make it more appealing for non-pinball fans. (or would it be more apt to say "pinball non-fans...?") But, I'm only talking about the non-pinball fans that have a chance of getting into pinball through this. I'm a non-pinball fan who has next to no chance of ever getting into pinball at all. The only other pinball game I played is that one that came free with Windows XP, and not even because I like playing it, the sounds just make me feel 8 years old again. And I only ever played this one because as a Sonic fan, we are clinically deranged.
Anyway, when it comes to pinball, I don't know how to make it work. I don't know the tricks. I might try my best to use the flippers at JUST the right time to launch the ball where I want it to go, but it'll end up somewhere else, probably in the bottomless pit. Spinball either requires a ridiculous amount of precision, or some semblance of luck, it's hard to tell, and I'm certainly not one to dissect the inner workings of it. Just ain't my thing.
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.
1993
Next to 4 and 5, it's up there as the most polished of the NES Mega Mans. It's also thankfully the final one on the NES, after, what, like, 3-4 years since the SNES came out? An era has ended...
Mega Man 6 shakes things up a little in the way it handles Rush as a powerup, which affects the level design in the process. Instead of your usual Rush Coil and Rush Jet modules, Rush is now capable of fusing with Mega Man to give you two new types of forms. "Jet Mega Man" lets you fly in short bursts, in exchange for removing your slide, and "Power Mega Man" gives you a stronger punch that can destroy big blocks, at the cost of your range being nerfed.
These forms are infinite use, and do not run out of ammo. While I rarely use the power form due to the range being too much of a detriment, the Jet form is kinda ridiculously broken, similarly to how Rush Jet was in Mega Man 3. It's like if you put Kirby into a Mega Man game, you can fly over most of everything, and seeing as you can change between these forms at will whenever you want, Jet not having a slide is really not that big of a trade-off.
An interesting aspect that these forms introduce, is the idea of multiple routes in a stage. There are certain rooms that only certain forms can access. In addition, specific routes have unique secrets and items to obtain. The more exploratory focus clearly borrows from the recently-established Mega Man X series, encouraging replaying levels to find potential new items, though it's not on the same level. There are no health upgrades or major game-changers here, just the Energy Balancer (a little useful) and parts for the Beat powerup (not useful at all). So arguably, it may not be worth it to do a 100% playthrough, but it's a decent enough start to something that later classic Mega Mans would improve on.
To put it shortly, it's better than 5, and a good sendoff to the NES as well, with some great music, solid level themes, and a balanced difficulty, under the caveat of somewhat underdeveloped exploration. Worth doing a casual run of.
Mega Man 6 shakes things up a little in the way it handles Rush as a powerup, which affects the level design in the process. Instead of your usual Rush Coil and Rush Jet modules, Rush is now capable of fusing with Mega Man to give you two new types of forms. "Jet Mega Man" lets you fly in short bursts, in exchange for removing your slide, and "Power Mega Man" gives you a stronger punch that can destroy big blocks, at the cost of your range being nerfed.
These forms are infinite use, and do not run out of ammo. While I rarely use the power form due to the range being too much of a detriment, the Jet form is kinda ridiculously broken, similarly to how Rush Jet was in Mega Man 3. It's like if you put Kirby into a Mega Man game, you can fly over most of everything, and seeing as you can change between these forms at will whenever you want, Jet not having a slide is really not that big of a trade-off.
An interesting aspect that these forms introduce, is the idea of multiple routes in a stage. There are certain rooms that only certain forms can access. In addition, specific routes have unique secrets and items to obtain. The more exploratory focus clearly borrows from the recently-established Mega Man X series, encouraging replaying levels to find potential new items, though it's not on the same level. There are no health upgrades or major game-changers here, just the Energy Balancer (a little useful) and parts for the Beat powerup (not useful at all). So arguably, it may not be worth it to do a 100% playthrough, but it's a decent enough start to something that later classic Mega Mans would improve on.
To put it shortly, it's better than 5, and a good sendoff to the NES as well, with some great music, solid level themes, and a balanced difficulty, under the caveat of somewhat underdeveloped exploration. Worth doing a casual run of.
Rondo of Blood's release was handled in a peculiar manner. For the longest time, it was a PC-Engine exclusive, only came out in Japan and didn't make its way into the west until 2007. An attempt was made to port this game onto the SNES in 1995 under the subtitle "Dracula X", but I'd argue it is far too removed from the original, and inferior in quality. What really boggles the mind is that it's not like Rondo of Blood was some strange spinoff. This is a mainline Castlevania, just as mainline as any other, indicated by 1997's Symphony of the Night directly following up on this game's events. And it really deserved to come out in the west a lot sooner.
This is owed to Rondo of Blood sporting some quality presentation, starting off on a high note with its introductory battle with Death, followed by dropping you into a flaming town with one of the game's best songs. Rondo of Blood swings and hits with its use of CD Audio, alongside its great variety of setpieces and well designed boss fights, where learning their patterns is key to survival.
Bringing back some of Castlevania 3's non-linearity, Rondo of Blood also offers you a series of alternate stages to play depending on the paths you take early on. Along the way, there are also two damsels in distress you can rescue from Dracula in order to obtain the good ending, and a third rescuable character who becomes playable. If you don't know who it is, I urge you to try and not spoil it for yourself, because not only are they overpowered in every sense, it's also just really funny.
Beyond the second overpowered character, Rondo offers a convenience in the form of a save system, and a level select. While I'm still not happy about the existence of extra lifes, the level select eases this up by allowing you to take a break, and jump back into whatever you may have struggled with at a later time. You may also switch between the two playable characters during this screen, so if you're struggling with one character, the other is there for you to try. Lastly, the level select is good for traveling back to those stages where you may have missed a damsel to rescue, thus eliminating the need to play the game from the beginning every time. This is overall a very forward-thinking QoL addition into the series, eliminating some of the tedium that may have previously come with Castlevania.
Regarding the controls, if Super Castlevania IV was a game you ended up enjoying, you may arguably consider Rondo a step back. Eight-directional whipping and mid-air control is back to not being a thing (unless you're playing as the unlockable character), as the controls harken back to the stiffer, more strategic roots of the NES games.
In the place of those lost moves, is introduced a back-jump move that's handy for leaping over, or backing away from certain attacks. You may also utilize your sub-weapons for "ultimate moves", where by having a certain amount of hearts and pressing the ultimate attack button, you may deal big damage to bosses. Just don't be like me, and only realize you can do this when you're about 70% through with the game.
Rondo is of course designed around its moveset, and plays well alongside it, but I can't deny that I miss Castlevania 4's controls already, and you may too if that was your main experience with the classic part of the series.
Rondo is a somewhat refined version of Castlevania 1's controls, with the setpieces of Castlevania 4. It's possible that the spectacle will be enough to hook you, but if you couldn't tolerate the feel of the NES games at all, Rondo may be a hard sell. On the other hand, you could push through until you unlock that second playable character, at which point you may have a much better time with it. Whichever type of Castlevania player are you, at least give it a chance, as there's a very solid adventure here, that merely takes some getting used to its quirks to start appreciating it.
Side note: I've only ever managed to get 99.9% completion. Where the hell is that last .1?
This is owed to Rondo of Blood sporting some quality presentation, starting off on a high note with its introductory battle with Death, followed by dropping you into a flaming town with one of the game's best songs. Rondo of Blood swings and hits with its use of CD Audio, alongside its great variety of setpieces and well designed boss fights, where learning their patterns is key to survival.
Bringing back some of Castlevania 3's non-linearity, Rondo of Blood also offers you a series of alternate stages to play depending on the paths you take early on. Along the way, there are also two damsels in distress you can rescue from Dracula in order to obtain the good ending, and a third rescuable character who becomes playable. If you don't know who it is, I urge you to try and not spoil it for yourself, because not only are they overpowered in every sense, it's also just really funny.
Beyond the second overpowered character, Rondo offers a convenience in the form of a save system, and a level select. While I'm still not happy about the existence of extra lifes, the level select eases this up by allowing you to take a break, and jump back into whatever you may have struggled with at a later time. You may also switch between the two playable characters during this screen, so if you're struggling with one character, the other is there for you to try. Lastly, the level select is good for traveling back to those stages where you may have missed a damsel to rescue, thus eliminating the need to play the game from the beginning every time. This is overall a very forward-thinking QoL addition into the series, eliminating some of the tedium that may have previously come with Castlevania.
Regarding the controls, if Super Castlevania IV was a game you ended up enjoying, you may arguably consider Rondo a step back. Eight-directional whipping and mid-air control is back to not being a thing (unless you're playing as the unlockable character), as the controls harken back to the stiffer, more strategic roots of the NES games.
In the place of those lost moves, is introduced a back-jump move that's handy for leaping over, or backing away from certain attacks. You may also utilize your sub-weapons for "ultimate moves", where by having a certain amount of hearts and pressing the ultimate attack button, you may deal big damage to bosses. Just don't be like me, and only realize you can do this when you're about 70% through with the game.
Rondo is of course designed around its moveset, and plays well alongside it, but I can't deny that I miss Castlevania 4's controls already, and you may too if that was your main experience with the classic part of the series.
Rondo is a somewhat refined version of Castlevania 1's controls, with the setpieces of Castlevania 4. It's possible that the spectacle will be enough to hook you, but if you couldn't tolerate the feel of the NES games at all, Rondo may be a hard sell. On the other hand, you could push through until you unlock that second playable character, at which point you may have a much better time with it. Whichever type of Castlevania player are you, at least give it a chance, as there's a very solid adventure here, that merely takes some getting used to its quirks to start appreciating it.
Side note: I've only ever managed to get 99.9% completion. Where the hell is that last .1?
1993
This is the final Gameboy Mega Man to take stages from its NES counterparts. This time around, you got four stages from Mega Man 4, and four from Mega Man 5. What do you know, it's still fun! It's Mega Man! It's... more Mega Man.
One interesting aspect of this entry is that it marks the first appearance of what would go on to be a staple feature of later classic Mega Mans: The shop. From now on, enemies have a chance of dropping P-chips. It's a currency that comes in small and big variants, which you can then spend in-between stages for E-tanks, extra lifes, and other items to help you along. As it is the first instance of a shop in Mega Man, this feature is pretty barebones. But it does include one permanent upgrade, that makes it so as you pick up weapon refills, you no longer need to switch to the appropriate weapon for them to work, and instead, they automatically recharge a weapon with the lowest amount of ammo. This upgrade would also go on to be featured in later Mega Man games.
Point being, Mega Man IV introduces an actually pretty decent amount of QoL for the series through its shop system, and the addition of currency through enemy drops makes for more interesting gameplay, and better incentives to shoot down every enemy you see.
That being said, not a fan of the Dr. Wily fortress here. It's nearly the exact same problem as the fortress from the 1st Gameboy title, it's too long, and the difficulty spike is too much. That sequence with the destructible missiles as the level behind you is falling apart, that one in particular is pretty bad. You are not given enough time to figure out the puzzle behind it before the insta-kill death trap catches up to you.
Overall, I'd rate Mega Man IV just as alright of a time as Mega Man III was, if not a little more thanks to the shop system, but the game kinda falls apart during its final stage. Save states may be recommended there. As with all of these Gameboy titles, only give it a peep if you're a big Mega Man fan.
One interesting aspect of this entry is that it marks the first appearance of what would go on to be a staple feature of later classic Mega Mans: The shop. From now on, enemies have a chance of dropping P-chips. It's a currency that comes in small and big variants, which you can then spend in-between stages for E-tanks, extra lifes, and other items to help you along. As it is the first instance of a shop in Mega Man, this feature is pretty barebones. But it does include one permanent upgrade, that makes it so as you pick up weapon refills, you no longer need to switch to the appropriate weapon for them to work, and instead, they automatically recharge a weapon with the lowest amount of ammo. This upgrade would also go on to be featured in later Mega Man games.
Point being, Mega Man IV introduces an actually pretty decent amount of QoL for the series through its shop system, and the addition of currency through enemy drops makes for more interesting gameplay, and better incentives to shoot down every enemy you see.
That being said, not a fan of the Dr. Wily fortress here. It's nearly the exact same problem as the fortress from the 1st Gameboy title, it's too long, and the difficulty spike is too much. That sequence with the destructible missiles as the level behind you is falling apart, that one in particular is pretty bad. You are not given enough time to figure out the puzzle behind it before the insta-kill death trap catches up to you.
Overall, I'd rate Mega Man IV just as alright of a time as Mega Man III was, if not a little more thanks to the shop system, but the game kinda falls apart during its final stage. Save states may be recommended there. As with all of these Gameboy titles, only give it a peep if you're a big Mega Man fan.
Poor Sonic. Poor, poor Sonic... You ever just play one of those games where it's supposed to be lighthearted, but your main character is going through so much shit, you just feel bad for them? SegaSonic instilled that response of pity from me.
Sonic is not having fun here. In spite of being the fastest thing alive, a cage catches up to him and sends him into an island where literally everything is trying to kill him. Sonic is not going like "whoo-hoo!" and "yeeah!" in this game, he is screaming and panicing his whole way through. Sonic makes a depressed face everytime you clear a stage, because you didn't get the 1-up bonus for the 3rd time in a row. There's a chance that Sonic might die in an explosion within the last 20 seconds of the game, and this is treated as an ending. I mean, this really is just the worst day Sonic's ever had. Somebody help this man.
As for me, am I having fun? Eh, I mean... it's certainly about as action-packed as an Arcade game should be to hold your attention. Unfortunately, I do not have a trackball to make use of as the game's intended controller, all I had once upon a time was a keyboard. And that is so obviously not the way to play, it's too sensitive and imprecise.
I think what baffles me the most is that SegaSonic was supposed to be part of the Gems Collection on the Gamecube, but they couldn't port it "because of the controls." Was it not possible to change them to something more suited to a controller stick? Then again, SEGA was never great at preservation, I can't imagine they had the source code for this either...
Anyway, the whole thing is a smorgasboard of chase scenes. There's no enemies to fight, no bosses to take down, and the ring collectibles that are there don't do shit unless you collect a whole lot of them, and I'm not exactly in a position to do that. SegaSonic the Hedgehog is a visually impressive series of setpieces which I come back to every 2-4 years or so, but mechanically compelling it is not. It's pure popcorn. Unrelated to SegaSonic Popcorn Shop.
Oh, and who the fuck are these other two guys
Sonic is not having fun here. In spite of being the fastest thing alive, a cage catches up to him and sends him into an island where literally everything is trying to kill him. Sonic is not going like "whoo-hoo!" and "yeeah!" in this game, he is screaming and panicing his whole way through. Sonic makes a depressed face everytime you clear a stage, because you didn't get the 1-up bonus for the 3rd time in a row. There's a chance that Sonic might die in an explosion within the last 20 seconds of the game, and this is treated as an ending. I mean, this really is just the worst day Sonic's ever had. Somebody help this man.
As for me, am I having fun? Eh, I mean... it's certainly about as action-packed as an Arcade game should be to hold your attention. Unfortunately, I do not have a trackball to make use of as the game's intended controller, all I had once upon a time was a keyboard. And that is so obviously not the way to play, it's too sensitive and imprecise.
I think what baffles me the most is that SegaSonic was supposed to be part of the Gems Collection on the Gamecube, but they couldn't port it "because of the controls." Was it not possible to change them to something more suited to a controller stick? Then again, SEGA was never great at preservation, I can't imagine they had the source code for this either...
Anyway, the whole thing is a smorgasboard of chase scenes. There's no enemies to fight, no bosses to take down, and the ring collectibles that are there don't do shit unless you collect a whole lot of them, and I'm not exactly in a position to do that. SegaSonic the Hedgehog is a visually impressive series of setpieces which I come back to every 2-4 years or so, but mechanically compelling it is not. It's pure popcorn. Unrelated to SegaSonic Popcorn Shop.
Oh, and who the fuck are these other two guys