TheMaxine
1993
Man, this one's tough. At the same time, a lot of what it does is my shit. The setpieces and boss fights in this one is like if Contra III went into maximum overdrive, just absolutely stopped giving a fuck. "Seven Force" is a legendary boss fight, especially when fought on the Hardest difficulty where you get to see it go through all its phases. The rest of the game holds up pretty well too, but honestly, you really wanna play it just for Seven Force alone.
Still, even on lower difficulties, Gunstar kicked my ass like nothing else. This is a hectic as hell run 'n gun, and one that I don't think I could ever master. But I'll always come back to it for its sheer spectacle. Treasure has only just started making games, but they've already hit a pretty high bar on how to create unconventional bangers. Checking out more of their catalogue is super recommended, as is playing Gunstar Heroes.
Still, even on lower difficulties, Gunstar kicked my ass like nothing else. This is a hectic as hell run 'n gun, and one that I don't think I could ever master. But I'll always come back to it for its sheer spectacle. Treasure has only just started making games, but they've already hit a pretty high bar on how to create unconventional bangers. Checking out more of their catalogue is super recommended, as is playing Gunstar Heroes.
Oh, wow. This had, like, no right to be this good. I mean, Rocket Knight never really picked up enough steam to remain a big franchise, and from a glance, it just seems like one of the many early failed attempts at cashing in on Sonic's popularity. But Konami pulled no punches here, this is not only a great platformer, but an impressive demonstration that Konami really knew how to take advantage of the Genesis, and would go on to do it several more times later.
Rocket Knight Adventures has a spectacle on a similar level to Contra III, showering you with plenty of bosses with individually animated limbs, actiony setpieces, and constantly changing visuals. Due to the short 1-hour length, these moments are relentless, and relentlessly exciting. The difficulty may slow down your progress at times, but it's worth it to push through and see what's gonna happen in the next stage, and the next stage, and the next.
The big gameplay draw of Rocket Knight beyond just the usual jumping and attacking, is how you use your jetpack. The jetpack acts as a sort of 8-directional speed boost that you charge up in order to use. After which, you blast off at high speeds, ricocheting from one wall to another like you're in a pinball machine, at the expense of losing control for a brief amount of time. This gives Rocket Knight some minor strategical lean, as you'll often have to position yourself accordingly to make good use of the mechanic. Figuring out ways to abuse it to get around the stage faster is exhilerating, and makes up a lot of the game's fun.
While there isn't much else to say, there doesn't need to be anything else to say. If you like cool boss fights, Genesis games that went crazy with their special effects, and are in the mood for a good ol' platformer, this'll fill the hole in your heart. Just a solid-ass effort, is what this was. It's a shame the other games did not match up to this one, perhaps Rocket Knight would've still been with us if they did.
Rocket Knight Adventures has a spectacle on a similar level to Contra III, showering you with plenty of bosses with individually animated limbs, actiony setpieces, and constantly changing visuals. Due to the short 1-hour length, these moments are relentless, and relentlessly exciting. The difficulty may slow down your progress at times, but it's worth it to push through and see what's gonna happen in the next stage, and the next stage, and the next.
The big gameplay draw of Rocket Knight beyond just the usual jumping and attacking, is how you use your jetpack. The jetpack acts as a sort of 8-directional speed boost that you charge up in order to use. After which, you blast off at high speeds, ricocheting from one wall to another like you're in a pinball machine, at the expense of losing control for a brief amount of time. This gives Rocket Knight some minor strategical lean, as you'll often have to position yourself accordingly to make good use of the mechanic. Figuring out ways to abuse it to get around the stage faster is exhilerating, and makes up a lot of the game's fun.
While there isn't much else to say, there doesn't need to be anything else to say. If you like cool boss fights, Genesis games that went crazy with their special effects, and are in the mood for a good ol' platformer, this'll fill the hole in your heart. Just a solid-ass effort, is what this was. It's a shame the other games did not match up to this one, perhaps Rocket Knight would've still been with us if they did.
1992
Once upon a time, I've made it my mission to ensure that I would complete every SaGa game there is to see how the series evolves over time. 14 hours into my playthrough of Romancing SaGa, I'm really struggling to justify my reasons to keep playing, but at the same time, I'm struggling to put it down until I see the credits for myself. What initially starts as a game full of intrigue and promise, devolves into something much more miserable. The Gameboy SaGas were able to justify being 15 hours long. Romancing SaGa can barely bring itself to justify being more than 6 hours, let alone the 30 to 40 hours that it actually asks of you.
Breaking away from the prior linear structure of Final Fantasy and the Gameboy SaGas, Romancing Saga firmly positions itself as the first open world Squaresoft RPG. The concept is exciting. Each of the 8 characters you pick can wind up in a different starting point of the world, and be granted easier access to other parts depending on their story. Because the game runs on a system where certain quests get locked or unlocked depending on how late you get to them, every character will have at least some unique quests to tackle of their own. It's not the type of game where you'll get to see everything, but that's part of the point, to make it more replayable with the other characters.
A particular highlight of this open world was being able to go down into a sewer area, and emerge into a completely different town with new music. My first reaction was to mouth "Where the fuck am I?" to myself. That's where I really saw the appeal of the open world, perhaps in a way that no other open world has instilled in me. I think that the concept of "See that place? You can go there" is boring and overdone, but the feeling of putting you into an underground area in order to take away your sense of direction, and allowing you to emerge into a new unknown land is an unparalleled one.
The combat works like the previous SaGa games, and because of my experience with those, I've found it quite easy to get into. I was already used to the random element of stat-gaining, but this entry streamlines certain elements like Legend III did. There's no weapon durability (thank god), and magic spells are yours to keep when you buy them. A new addition is the return of Final Fantasy II's weapon leveling (at least, I don't think the other SaGa games had that?), which not only increases the weapon's strength, but new to this game, adds new skill abilities onto your weapon, some of which are delightfully overpowered and can mow down through bosses in 3 or 2 turns.
There's also a party formation system, which I've also picked up on quite easily due to Suikoden using something pretty much like this. It's as simple as front-row tanky members get the short-range weapons, average-stat members go in the middle row and get the middle-range weapons, and back-row weak members get long-range weaponry and tend to rely on magic spells. In short, if you've played SaGa and Suikoden before, the gameplay systems here are perfectly simple to pick up.
Alright, so... oh boy. Where did Romancing SaGa go wrong? Well, for one, you remember how Legend II had that one fucking 1-minute loop of a song that kept playing everywhere you went? Well, Romancing has something very akin to that. It seems that each character you start the game with has their own "main theme", and that main theme is gonna haunt you in nearly every town and non-dungeon area you will visit. You don't move very fast here for the record, so that's gonna be a whole lot of time where you'll get to hear this song, and it's gonna be one incentive to lower the volume down to like 5%.
More than anything though, more than the high difficulty, the lack of music variety, or the lack of direction (which I personally enjoyed), I am overcome with an intense loathing for the dungeons. Oh my god, someone help me from punching these dungeons in the face. They are awful. Awful, awful, awful, it's a level of awfulness I have never seen any other RPG get anywhere close to, I can't emphasize this enough.
You see, Romancing SaGa does something a little different with the way you encounter enemies. Instead of a chance of random encounters per each tile you walk across, enemies now visually appear in the dungeons themselves, and, if you're sneaky enough, you can walk around them and avoid the encounter. You know how EarthBound works? It's kind of like that! Well, actually, I would compare it closer to EarthBound with the anti-piracy on. Because where Romancing SaGa falls apart, is the sheer amount of these enemies present in the dungeons.
Within every corridor, every room of a dungeon, there can be as many as 15 enemies on-screen, and yes, all of them count as their own individual encounter. "15 doesn't sound so bad", you say? Imagine 15 enemies that are all forming a conga line in front of you, and there will be 15 more just off-screen.
"Just avoid them?" Well, I assume that's the point, but most of the time, you can't. They're either faster than you are, placed in very tight corridors, or waiting for you right beyond a door that you cannot go around. The way this game generally goes, is that when you kill one enemy, the one behind them takes their place and walks up like they're fuckin' waiting in line for their turn. Moreover, if these enemies make contact with you from the side or from behind, your party formation gets all screwed up, and you risk taking extra damage in a game that already deals pretty heavy amounts.
So, really, it's not a good idea to try and risk walking around the enemies a lot of the time, because they're much quicker to react than you are. Instead, it's better to fight every single one you see, but doing so means that you're going to find out why this game is really 30 hours long. Not because it's full of content, but because it's full of horribly balanced tedium, ranging between dozens upon dozens of boring fights with no strategy required, or enemies that immediately one-hit KO your entire party. Which would've been okay if these fights were found in lesser quantities, but with most of them, you don't even get a literal half of a fucking second of breathing room, before you're thrown into the next one, and the next, and it just goes on until it drives you insane. In SaGa's attempt to fix the frustrations of the "random encounter issue," I can't fathom how the director didn't realize that this was so much worse.
Adding to that, there is very little story. Damage-dealing magic never felt as strong as spamming the attack button, bringing back the problem that Final Fantasy 2 had. And what you ultimately wind up with, is a game where the dungeons are the main focus, and also the worst part of the game. Rather than giving you grinding as a relaxing option to do in your downtime, grinding is instead actively forced upon you in moments where you want it the least.
And yet, despite my attempts at putting the game down, despite me literally deleting my 25-hour save file in order to de-incentivize myself to revisit Romancing SaGa again, I just kept going. No matter what, I couldn't put it down. And for each step of the way, I kept asking myself, why? Why do this to myself? What else is there waiting for me here that could possibly turn my opinion around? Maybe I already knew nothing could. All that mattered is knowing that when I beat this game once, I can safely head into the later entries, without ever having to think about this one ever again.
But, I suppose this leads me into a question I've been wondering about since these initial 14 hours... is SaGa ever gonna click? All three of the Gameboy games and now this one under my belt, and my consensus on each one was that they're all promising, but there's always a catch, whether they're too jank, too frustrating, or too tedious. When will come the point where a SaGa game does most of everything right? Is there such a point? I'm not holding out my hopes for Romancing 2, but I've heard Romancing 3 is very good... perhaps I'll just give 2 a quick look in the future, but make 3 my next big priority. The remake of Romancing 1 is also something I'm interested in.
But, as for this one... this one's a battle. The only reason I haven't dropped it yet is because I wish I could have the same mentality other players have of just simply not feeling like they need to beat something, but I'm too fucked to properly accept that. I have to see this through to the end. Even if it may take another 30 hours to do so. Is that miserable? Yeah! But, perhaps I'll feel at peace once it's finally over...
Update: I saw it through to the end. Am I at peace now? No, not really... I mostly just feel stupid that I even felt the need to beat it at all. Oh, well. It's done. And everything I said in the review still stands.
Breaking away from the prior linear structure of Final Fantasy and the Gameboy SaGas, Romancing Saga firmly positions itself as the first open world Squaresoft RPG. The concept is exciting. Each of the 8 characters you pick can wind up in a different starting point of the world, and be granted easier access to other parts depending on their story. Because the game runs on a system where certain quests get locked or unlocked depending on how late you get to them, every character will have at least some unique quests to tackle of their own. It's not the type of game where you'll get to see everything, but that's part of the point, to make it more replayable with the other characters.
A particular highlight of this open world was being able to go down into a sewer area, and emerge into a completely different town with new music. My first reaction was to mouth "Where the fuck am I?" to myself. That's where I really saw the appeal of the open world, perhaps in a way that no other open world has instilled in me. I think that the concept of "See that place? You can go there" is boring and overdone, but the feeling of putting you into an underground area in order to take away your sense of direction, and allowing you to emerge into a new unknown land is an unparalleled one.
The combat works like the previous SaGa games, and because of my experience with those, I've found it quite easy to get into. I was already used to the random element of stat-gaining, but this entry streamlines certain elements like Legend III did. There's no weapon durability (thank god), and magic spells are yours to keep when you buy them. A new addition is the return of Final Fantasy II's weapon leveling (at least, I don't think the other SaGa games had that?), which not only increases the weapon's strength, but new to this game, adds new skill abilities onto your weapon, some of which are delightfully overpowered and can mow down through bosses in 3 or 2 turns.
There's also a party formation system, which I've also picked up on quite easily due to Suikoden using something pretty much like this. It's as simple as front-row tanky members get the short-range weapons, average-stat members go in the middle row and get the middle-range weapons, and back-row weak members get long-range weaponry and tend to rely on magic spells. In short, if you've played SaGa and Suikoden before, the gameplay systems here are perfectly simple to pick up.
Alright, so... oh boy. Where did Romancing SaGa go wrong? Well, for one, you remember how Legend II had that one fucking 1-minute loop of a song that kept playing everywhere you went? Well, Romancing has something very akin to that. It seems that each character you start the game with has their own "main theme", and that main theme is gonna haunt you in nearly every town and non-dungeon area you will visit. You don't move very fast here for the record, so that's gonna be a whole lot of time where you'll get to hear this song, and it's gonna be one incentive to lower the volume down to like 5%.
More than anything though, more than the high difficulty, the lack of music variety, or the lack of direction (which I personally enjoyed), I am overcome with an intense loathing for the dungeons. Oh my god, someone help me from punching these dungeons in the face. They are awful. Awful, awful, awful, it's a level of awfulness I have never seen any other RPG get anywhere close to, I can't emphasize this enough.
You see, Romancing SaGa does something a little different with the way you encounter enemies. Instead of a chance of random encounters per each tile you walk across, enemies now visually appear in the dungeons themselves, and, if you're sneaky enough, you can walk around them and avoid the encounter. You know how EarthBound works? It's kind of like that! Well, actually, I would compare it closer to EarthBound with the anti-piracy on. Because where Romancing SaGa falls apart, is the sheer amount of these enemies present in the dungeons.
Within every corridor, every room of a dungeon, there can be as many as 15 enemies on-screen, and yes, all of them count as their own individual encounter. "15 doesn't sound so bad", you say? Imagine 15 enemies that are all forming a conga line in front of you, and there will be 15 more just off-screen.
"Just avoid them?" Well, I assume that's the point, but most of the time, you can't. They're either faster than you are, placed in very tight corridors, or waiting for you right beyond a door that you cannot go around. The way this game generally goes, is that when you kill one enemy, the one behind them takes their place and walks up like they're fuckin' waiting in line for their turn. Moreover, if these enemies make contact with you from the side or from behind, your party formation gets all screwed up, and you risk taking extra damage in a game that already deals pretty heavy amounts.
So, really, it's not a good idea to try and risk walking around the enemies a lot of the time, because they're much quicker to react than you are. Instead, it's better to fight every single one you see, but doing so means that you're going to find out why this game is really 30 hours long. Not because it's full of content, but because it's full of horribly balanced tedium, ranging between dozens upon dozens of boring fights with no strategy required, or enemies that immediately one-hit KO your entire party. Which would've been okay if these fights were found in lesser quantities, but with most of them, you don't even get a literal half of a fucking second of breathing room, before you're thrown into the next one, and the next, and it just goes on until it drives you insane. In SaGa's attempt to fix the frustrations of the "random encounter issue," I can't fathom how the director didn't realize that this was so much worse.
Adding to that, there is very little story. Damage-dealing magic never felt as strong as spamming the attack button, bringing back the problem that Final Fantasy 2 had. And what you ultimately wind up with, is a game where the dungeons are the main focus, and also the worst part of the game. Rather than giving you grinding as a relaxing option to do in your downtime, grinding is instead actively forced upon you in moments where you want it the least.
And yet, despite my attempts at putting the game down, despite me literally deleting my 25-hour save file in order to de-incentivize myself to revisit Romancing SaGa again, I just kept going. No matter what, I couldn't put it down. And for each step of the way, I kept asking myself, why? Why do this to myself? What else is there waiting for me here that could possibly turn my opinion around? Maybe I already knew nothing could. All that mattered is knowing that when I beat this game once, I can safely head into the later entries, without ever having to think about this one ever again.
But, I suppose this leads me into a question I've been wondering about since these initial 14 hours... is SaGa ever gonna click? All three of the Gameboy games and now this one under my belt, and my consensus on each one was that they're all promising, but there's always a catch, whether they're too jank, too frustrating, or too tedious. When will come the point where a SaGa game does most of everything right? Is there such a point? I'm not holding out my hopes for Romancing 2, but I've heard Romancing 3 is very good... perhaps I'll just give 2 a quick look in the future, but make 3 my next big priority. The remake of Romancing 1 is also something I'm interested in.
But, as for this one... this one's a battle. The only reason I haven't dropped it yet is because I wish I could have the same mentality other players have of just simply not feeling like they need to beat something, but I'm too fucked to properly accept that. I have to see this through to the end. Even if it may take another 30 hours to do so. Is that miserable? Yeah! But, perhaps I'll feel at peace once it's finally over...
Update: I saw it through to the end. Am I at peace now? No, not really... I mostly just feel stupid that I even felt the need to beat it at all. Oh, well. It's done. And everything I said in the review still stands.
1993
X1 is the first major evolution of the Mega Man series, and rightly so for the jump into SNES. While the formula of 8 main stages and a set of final stages is preserved, the tone switches from cutesy to more of a teenage Saturday Morning Cartoon. It's a bit more serious and action figure-y in the way it handles its designs, and the 90's rock music only helps sell that vibe more. Aside from that, X introduces a number of new abilities and collectibles that can be found across the main stages via exploration. These elements serve to emphasize the main idea of the game: You are weak. And you must become stronger.
Starting off with what you have at the beginning, there's the charge shot, which is still something I never use, and alongside that, you get the new wall jump ability. As long as there's one wall around, you can continulously bounce off it. If you didn't like all those bottomless pits in the previous Mega Mans, the wall jump could very well be an antidote to this poison. It'll save your hide more times than you can count. A very welcome addition.
Replacing the slide, is the dash ability. Technically, it carries over what the slide did, but thanks to the magic of SNES controllers having more buttons, you only need one button to pull it off now. You can also jump with it, which carries your momentum forward for as long as you're in mid-air. It's a significantly better version of the slide, all in all.
There's just one catch. The dash is something you'll have to find. And I'll immediately say right now, just make sure that Chill Penguin is the first stage you pick, because you'll want that dash as soon as you can for the best possible first impression of the game. This is a fundamental ability, and the idea of playing most of the stages without it sounds awful. It baffles me that it's not something you have from the start, which is an issue that X2 and onward would go on to remedy.
But, yeah, aside from the dash, you can also unlock a number of other upgrades. There's about 3 more body upgrades to find, including one that doubles your defense, there is 1 health upgrade in each stage, there are two Sub-Tanks that store any leftover health pickups you find, and can then be used to replenish your health much like E-Tanks.
Every stage can be revisited, and exited out of via the menu as soon as you find whatever collectible you're looking for. If you're aiming for 100%, this clearly puts a focus on a kind of backtracking that Mega Man didn't previously have. And because certain body upgrades are required to access certain collectibles, depending on the way you plan your level order, this could mean more backtracking, or less.
Personally, I'm not too big on this aspect of the game, but at the same time, there's no pressing need to get EVERYTHING if you don't want to. Unfortunately, I've got OCD, so I feel compelled to, and it ends up feeling like a way to pad out length time. There's also the problem that it is not indicated how many collectibles each level has, or whether you got every one from a specific level, so unless you're using a guide, I hope you've got a good memory regarding what've you cleared out.
I also have some concerns over bosses having an increased health pool in this game, and most X games onward. If you're just using the regular buster, they take more time to take out than the classic series bosses, and I don't think they have enough attack variety to make up for that increased length. Usage of weaknesses is more strongly recommended than ever, it's just a shame that doing so makes the bosses laughably easy, due to the ability to stun them, and reset their attack pattern.
Other than that! Is the game fun? Yes! There's a strong sense of creativity here. Being able to create a new evolution of Mega Man must've really gotten the devs excited, and you can feel that energy here. Does the soundtrack slap? Absolutely. Armored Armadillo theme, my beloved. Most importantly, does Mega Man X take full advantage of the jump into a new console generation? Yes, yes it does. This is exactly what Mega Man needed back then, a revitalization of the series through and through. Hopefully they don't run this one into the ground either, hoho!
Starting off with what you have at the beginning, there's the charge shot, which is still something I never use, and alongside that, you get the new wall jump ability. As long as there's one wall around, you can continulously bounce off it. If you didn't like all those bottomless pits in the previous Mega Mans, the wall jump could very well be an antidote to this poison. It'll save your hide more times than you can count. A very welcome addition.
Replacing the slide, is the dash ability. Technically, it carries over what the slide did, but thanks to the magic of SNES controllers having more buttons, you only need one button to pull it off now. You can also jump with it, which carries your momentum forward for as long as you're in mid-air. It's a significantly better version of the slide, all in all.
There's just one catch. The dash is something you'll have to find. And I'll immediately say right now, just make sure that Chill Penguin is the first stage you pick, because you'll want that dash as soon as you can for the best possible first impression of the game. This is a fundamental ability, and the idea of playing most of the stages without it sounds awful. It baffles me that it's not something you have from the start, which is an issue that X2 and onward would go on to remedy.
But, yeah, aside from the dash, you can also unlock a number of other upgrades. There's about 3 more body upgrades to find, including one that doubles your defense, there is 1 health upgrade in each stage, there are two Sub-Tanks that store any leftover health pickups you find, and can then be used to replenish your health much like E-Tanks.
Every stage can be revisited, and exited out of via the menu as soon as you find whatever collectible you're looking for. If you're aiming for 100%, this clearly puts a focus on a kind of backtracking that Mega Man didn't previously have. And because certain body upgrades are required to access certain collectibles, depending on the way you plan your level order, this could mean more backtracking, or less.
Personally, I'm not too big on this aspect of the game, but at the same time, there's no pressing need to get EVERYTHING if you don't want to. Unfortunately, I've got OCD, so I feel compelled to, and it ends up feeling like a way to pad out length time. There's also the problem that it is not indicated how many collectibles each level has, or whether you got every one from a specific level, so unless you're using a guide, I hope you've got a good memory regarding what've you cleared out.
I also have some concerns over bosses having an increased health pool in this game, and most X games onward. If you're just using the regular buster, they take more time to take out than the classic series bosses, and I don't think they have enough attack variety to make up for that increased length. Usage of weaknesses is more strongly recommended than ever, it's just a shame that doing so makes the bosses laughably easy, due to the ability to stun them, and reset their attack pattern.
Other than that! Is the game fun? Yes! There's a strong sense of creativity here. Being able to create a new evolution of Mega Man must've really gotten the devs excited, and you can feel that energy here. Does the soundtrack slap? Absolutely. Armored Armadillo theme, my beloved. Most importantly, does Mega Man X take full advantage of the jump into a new console generation? Yes, yes it does. This is exactly what Mega Man needed back then, a revitalization of the series through and through. Hopefully they don't run this one into the ground either, hoho!
1993
Apparently Shinji Mikami designed this. Go figure, because what we have here is a very competently put together platformer.
It's much, much better than the Genesis version, which I've found to be too messy and chaotic. The SNES version removes the sword, and is in comparison a casual and short romp that anyone could master in less than a handful of tries. I think in Capcom's attempt to decrease the difficulty from "90's hard" to "managable for kids", they incidentally created a difficulty that sits around the middle for today's standards. It asks you to prove your reflexes, but never gets too overwhelming in doing so.
Is it special? As good as Mario? Maybe not. You'll probably play it once and forget about it. But as far as licensed Disney games went, Aladdin here proves that Capcom had a talented team of developers that knew exactly how to handle these IP's, and delivered a mechanically simple yet refined experience that does all it needed to just... be pretty fun. It's just fun. It's fun. Fun.
It's much, much better than the Genesis version, which I've found to be too messy and chaotic. The SNES version removes the sword, and is in comparison a casual and short romp that anyone could master in less than a handful of tries. I think in Capcom's attempt to decrease the difficulty from "90's hard" to "managable for kids", they incidentally created a difficulty that sits around the middle for today's standards. It asks you to prove your reflexes, but never gets too overwhelming in doing so.
Is it special? As good as Mario? Maybe not. You'll probably play it once and forget about it. But as far as licensed Disney games went, Aladdin here proves that Capcom had a talented team of developers that knew exactly how to handle these IP's, and delivered a mechanically simple yet refined experience that does all it needed to just... be pretty fun. It's just fun. It's fun. Fun.
As a whole, Sam & Max is a complicated franchise to get into, as its fanbase is actually a whole bunch of split subsidiaries of fanbases. It's not too dissimilar from the Sonic fanbase, with the multiple directions and voice actors it took over the years, it's just a lot nicher. You've got the group of fans that love all forms of Sam & Max, but there's some that only read the comics, or only seen the sadly short-lived cartoon, or mainly grew up with the Telltale episodic series (I belong to that group!)... by far the most popular of those groups however, is the one that has only ever played Sam & Max Hit the Road, and nothing else.
Which, y'know, is totally fine, Hit the Road is a totally valid entry point, and I can respect if you think it's the peak of the series, as long as you're not one of those crazies that's still yelling about how they should bring back Bill Farmer and Nick Jameson 30 years after the fact. LucasArts has proven to make some pretty interesting point 'n clicks in the past, the lack of failure states makes them all the more accessible for it. But, despite me beating this game several times as a kid, and seemingly growing up with it, I rarely go back to it these days, while I'd still be happy to revisit the Telltale series any day.
Hit the Road shares many of the pros and cons of the prior LucasArts titles. Great writing, juxtposed against boring line delivery. A dry delivery makes perfect sense for a character like Sam, but Max is supposed to be kind of a psycho. He's wild, he'd beat you senseless, but he just sounds like some guy on the street with a New York accent. His voice is missing that thing that's supposed to offset him from Sam's calmer personality, so there's no balance, and the classic dynamic of the duo struggles to come through. Most of the other characters share a similar problem. No matter how wacky or weird they get, they all just sound so... disattached from the script. The country song was sick though, you gotta hand them that.
Likewise, there's a very creative setting and series of scenarios that occurs here, undermined by the possibility that you're never gonna figure them out without a guide. Honestly, the weird logic of this game might be LucasArts at their worst so far, you REALLY gotta think outside of the box to achieve any means of progress, and this raises the possibility of leaving a sour taste in your mouth, in regards to the time it wants you to waste on what should've been a 4 to 5 hour adventure, turned into above 8 or 10+ if played blind.
There is ultimately so much good packed in here, undermined by what I felt was a weak execution of voice acting, and a frustrating sense of difficulty that doesn't ask you to think smart, so much as it asks you to think stupidly and sometimes nonsensically. Maybe this is a skill issue? Maybe my brain just isn't engineered to deal with LucasArts logic, but there may be a trick to it. In any case, I ended up with a pretty average opinion of the game at the end. I don't hate it, I don't dislike it, I respect its originality and writing quite a bit. But I've found that the later games would go on to strike a much better balance of dry humor and energetic humor, and Hit the Road's approach of 100% dry humor and dry voice acting did not click.
My opinion aside, I would ultimately recommend any point 'n click fan to give it a shot and see if they like it. But if you don't, don't give up on the series yet. Try the comics, try the cartoon, I would especially recommend you to try the Telltale games. Each one of these was made years apart by a different set of creators, and has a distinct approach towards how to tackle the franchise, and one of them may have a probable chance of hitting you in the right way.
Which, y'know, is totally fine, Hit the Road is a totally valid entry point, and I can respect if you think it's the peak of the series, as long as you're not one of those crazies that's still yelling about how they should bring back Bill Farmer and Nick Jameson 30 years after the fact. LucasArts has proven to make some pretty interesting point 'n clicks in the past, the lack of failure states makes them all the more accessible for it. But, despite me beating this game several times as a kid, and seemingly growing up with it, I rarely go back to it these days, while I'd still be happy to revisit the Telltale series any day.
Hit the Road shares many of the pros and cons of the prior LucasArts titles. Great writing, juxtposed against boring line delivery. A dry delivery makes perfect sense for a character like Sam, but Max is supposed to be kind of a psycho. He's wild, he'd beat you senseless, but he just sounds like some guy on the street with a New York accent. His voice is missing that thing that's supposed to offset him from Sam's calmer personality, so there's no balance, and the classic dynamic of the duo struggles to come through. Most of the other characters share a similar problem. No matter how wacky or weird they get, they all just sound so... disattached from the script. The country song was sick though, you gotta hand them that.
Likewise, there's a very creative setting and series of scenarios that occurs here, undermined by the possibility that you're never gonna figure them out without a guide. Honestly, the weird logic of this game might be LucasArts at their worst so far, you REALLY gotta think outside of the box to achieve any means of progress, and this raises the possibility of leaving a sour taste in your mouth, in regards to the time it wants you to waste on what should've been a 4 to 5 hour adventure, turned into above 8 or 10+ if played blind.
There is ultimately so much good packed in here, undermined by what I felt was a weak execution of voice acting, and a frustrating sense of difficulty that doesn't ask you to think smart, so much as it asks you to think stupidly and sometimes nonsensically. Maybe this is a skill issue? Maybe my brain just isn't engineered to deal with LucasArts logic, but there may be a trick to it. In any case, I ended up with a pretty average opinion of the game at the end. I don't hate it, I don't dislike it, I respect its originality and writing quite a bit. But I've found that the later games would go on to strike a much better balance of dry humor and energetic humor, and Hit the Road's approach of 100% dry humor and dry voice acting did not click.
My opinion aside, I would ultimately recommend any point 'n click fan to give it a shot and see if they like it. But if you don't, don't give up on the series yet. Try the comics, try the cartoon, I would especially recommend you to try the Telltale games. Each one of these was made years apart by a different set of creators, and has a distinct approach towards how to tackle the franchise, and one of them may have a probable chance of hitting you in the right way.
1993
Sonic CD could be considered a more direct follow-up to Sonic 1 than it would be a sequel to Sonic 2, knowing that the japanese team was in charge of this one, while Sonic 2 was made over in California. Both games were made in tandem with each other, meaning that despite CD being released later, it did not take many lessons from Sonic 2 and kinda just did its own thing. And that thing may be closer to the design sensibilities of Sonic 1, but it is nonetheless an improvement over the way Sonic 1 did things, even if there's still some awkwardness around the edges, like the spin dash not working as fluidly.
The level design goes back to a more platforming-centered focus, with less high-speed hijinks happening, and a whole load more of verticality to take advantage of. The big improvement on this is that Sonic CD very rarely puts you in a situation where you have to wait to do something, there's still plenty of go go go, and each zone is very consistent in its design. The water level reminscent of Labyrinth Zone functions similarly to Sonic 2's Aquatic Ruin Zone, where you can skip most of the water sections as long as you maintain staying on top of the level. The design is pleasantly open-ended, with multiple routes and secrets to find, and though the way it bounces you around from one end to the other can get a bit odd and messy at times, it's still good. It's well put together.
Let's talk about the new time traveling system. Touch a time travel sign, and then amass 88 miles per hour to travel to the Past, or the Future. The level accommodates for this by providing you a lot of ways to build up speed, but in a way that keeps you in place, rather than progressing you forward through the stage. This is why the level design is gonna be weird to anybody that isn't taking advantage of this system, as it's less about using momentum to find a shortcut, but rather using momentum to travel through time. The game is more than playable without using this system, but it's something to bear in mind when you wonder "what the hell was the point of this spring sending me backwards?"
The visual design changes between each time period you travel to, as does the song, and a little bit of the level design at times. If you're aiming to go for the Good Ending, the overall idea is that you travel to the Past, find a piece of Eggman's machinery, and destroy it in order to achieve a Good Future, otherwise, you'll end up with a Bad Future version of a stage. Cool concept! Where I lose interest, is the part where you have to actually find that machinery. Each stage gives you several chances to travel between time periods, but there is only one machine to destroy in each stage, and some of these get pretty tricky.
This is a 2D game with a pretty zoomed-in camera, and some routes which are impossible to backtrack from. Hunting for optional little items and 1-ups and powerups is still fun to do, but hunting those machines down is such a pain, and it's the only reason to take advantage of the time travel mechanic at all. And because I rarely feel like doing it, it makes this complex concept feel pretty pointless. Thankfully, there is also one other way to achieve the Good Ending, the classic way. Which is to get 50 rings, and access the special stage at the end to obtain a not-Chaos Emerald. Once you get all of them, it's a guaranteed Good Ending for you. This is the way I usually do it, y'know, when I'm not constantly losing rings when running into enemies.
The one other tip I have is that you should probably make sure you're playing the game with the Japanese soundtrack on. The Japanese and USA versions of the game had two different soundtracks, while the more recent re-releases simply allow you to switch between the two OST's via the options. This happened, because some weirdo at the SEGA HQ thought that the Japanese soundtrack wasn't "rich and complex" enough, when in actuality, CD's Japanese OST was insanely ahead of time. You've got a whole total of four songs for each zone's time period, and they are all hitting it out of the park, combining a techno sound with catchy melodies and reckless usage of sampling to create all sorts of unique sounds.
I'm not gonna say the USA soundtrack is bad, I mean, I know there's fans of it, and "Sonic Boom" is obviously a huge highlight, but... most of the tracks on that one are just so muted and depressing in comparison, I much prefer the hypermanic energy of the Japanese OST.
CD has a fantastic visual aesthetic, a banging soundtrack, and gameplay that I would consider a mark-up over Sonic 1, but not as good as Sonic 2. The game's time travel system is a pace-grinding hassle to deal with, but if ignored, you end up with a pretty good - if not a bit weird - platformer on your hands. It's a bit flawed, but overall worth playing for its good points alone.
The level design goes back to a more platforming-centered focus, with less high-speed hijinks happening, and a whole load more of verticality to take advantage of. The big improvement on this is that Sonic CD very rarely puts you in a situation where you have to wait to do something, there's still plenty of go go go, and each zone is very consistent in its design. The water level reminscent of Labyrinth Zone functions similarly to Sonic 2's Aquatic Ruin Zone, where you can skip most of the water sections as long as you maintain staying on top of the level. The design is pleasantly open-ended, with multiple routes and secrets to find, and though the way it bounces you around from one end to the other can get a bit odd and messy at times, it's still good. It's well put together.
Let's talk about the new time traveling system. Touch a time travel sign, and then amass 88 miles per hour to travel to the Past, or the Future. The level accommodates for this by providing you a lot of ways to build up speed, but in a way that keeps you in place, rather than progressing you forward through the stage. This is why the level design is gonna be weird to anybody that isn't taking advantage of this system, as it's less about using momentum to find a shortcut, but rather using momentum to travel through time. The game is more than playable without using this system, but it's something to bear in mind when you wonder "what the hell was the point of this spring sending me backwards?"
The visual design changes between each time period you travel to, as does the song, and a little bit of the level design at times. If you're aiming to go for the Good Ending, the overall idea is that you travel to the Past, find a piece of Eggman's machinery, and destroy it in order to achieve a Good Future, otherwise, you'll end up with a Bad Future version of a stage. Cool concept! Where I lose interest, is the part where you have to actually find that machinery. Each stage gives you several chances to travel between time periods, but there is only one machine to destroy in each stage, and some of these get pretty tricky.
This is a 2D game with a pretty zoomed-in camera, and some routes which are impossible to backtrack from. Hunting for optional little items and 1-ups and powerups is still fun to do, but hunting those machines down is such a pain, and it's the only reason to take advantage of the time travel mechanic at all. And because I rarely feel like doing it, it makes this complex concept feel pretty pointless. Thankfully, there is also one other way to achieve the Good Ending, the classic way. Which is to get 50 rings, and access the special stage at the end to obtain a not-Chaos Emerald. Once you get all of them, it's a guaranteed Good Ending for you. This is the way I usually do it, y'know, when I'm not constantly losing rings when running into enemies.
The one other tip I have is that you should probably make sure you're playing the game with the Japanese soundtrack on. The Japanese and USA versions of the game had two different soundtracks, while the more recent re-releases simply allow you to switch between the two OST's via the options. This happened, because some weirdo at the SEGA HQ thought that the Japanese soundtrack wasn't "rich and complex" enough, when in actuality, CD's Japanese OST was insanely ahead of time. You've got a whole total of four songs for each zone's time period, and they are all hitting it out of the park, combining a techno sound with catchy melodies and reckless usage of sampling to create all sorts of unique sounds.
I'm not gonna say the USA soundtrack is bad, I mean, I know there's fans of it, and "Sonic Boom" is obviously a huge highlight, but... most of the tracks on that one are just so muted and depressing in comparison, I much prefer the hypermanic energy of the Japanese OST.
CD has a fantastic visual aesthetic, a banging soundtrack, and gameplay that I would consider a mark-up over Sonic 1, but not as good as Sonic 2. The game's time travel system is a pace-grinding hassle to deal with, but if ignored, you end up with a pretty good - if not a bit weird - platformer on your hands. It's a bit flawed, but overall worth playing for its good points alone.
Ah, Mario All-Stars, the Mario collection that back in the day, every second guy took assets from to use in their fan game or Newgrounds flash animation.
God damn, this must've been some serious value for its time. 4 whole Mario remakes, plus Mario World if you got that later edition instead. All upgraded with 16-bit graphics, sound, and some QoL. Effort like this makes it kinda evident why people weren't satisfied with 3D All-Stars, although to be fair, it'd take way more time to remake the 3D games than it would the 2D ones.
As much as I like All-Stars, I have to admit that it's not like there was really much to fix about the NES games, so unless you're really pining for that newly included save file system for some more forgiving checkpoints, there isn't much reason to favor All-Stars over the originals. Conversely, there's no reason not to favor it either. I think I just see All-Stars as a more worthwhile collection back when it first released, back when it was a way for SNES players to catch up on all those Mario games they haven't played before. It could've also been worthwhile as a way to show people the graphics leap since the NES days. It's most evident in Mario 1 & 2, though Mario 3 honestly does not look all that different, which goes to show how well the original aged.
The only problem with the collection concerns the authenticity of Mario 1's physics. They hold up for the most part, with the exception of when Mario breaks any brick. For some reason, you lose all your momentum when doing that, something that does not happen on the NES. While it's not a deal-breaker, it does kinda fuck with your flow at times, and takes some re-adjusting on how you play the game. And because the developer's intent was to make these versions as close to the originals as possible, this seems like a pretty glaring oversight.
Other than that, this is a fine compilation of some excellent classic Marios, and just as good a way of experiencing them as the NES games are. Regarding whether you prefer the full authentic experience or a more visually detailed one with slight gameplay improvements, that's for you to decide.
God damn, this must've been some serious value for its time. 4 whole Mario remakes, plus Mario World if you got that later edition instead. All upgraded with 16-bit graphics, sound, and some QoL. Effort like this makes it kinda evident why people weren't satisfied with 3D All-Stars, although to be fair, it'd take way more time to remake the 3D games than it would the 2D ones.
As much as I like All-Stars, I have to admit that it's not like there was really much to fix about the NES games, so unless you're really pining for that newly included save file system for some more forgiving checkpoints, there isn't much reason to favor All-Stars over the originals. Conversely, there's no reason not to favor it either. I think I just see All-Stars as a more worthwhile collection back when it first released, back when it was a way for SNES players to catch up on all those Mario games they haven't played before. It could've also been worthwhile as a way to show people the graphics leap since the NES days. It's most evident in Mario 1 & 2, though Mario 3 honestly does not look all that different, which goes to show how well the original aged.
The only problem with the collection concerns the authenticity of Mario 1's physics. They hold up for the most part, with the exception of when Mario breaks any brick. For some reason, you lose all your momentum when doing that, something that does not happen on the NES. While it's not a deal-breaker, it does kinda fuck with your flow at times, and takes some re-adjusting on how you play the game. And because the developer's intent was to make these versions as close to the originals as possible, this seems like a pretty glaring oversight.
Other than that, this is a fine compilation of some excellent classic Marios, and just as good a way of experiencing them as the NES games are. Regarding whether you prefer the full authentic experience or a more visually detailed one with slight gameplay improvements, that's for you to decide.
Link's Awakening is an incredible game for Gameboy standards, and one of my favorite entries in the Zelda series. It does not escape every problem that comes with making a Zelda game for a system with two buttons, and a limited amount of storage space, but I'd say the design of the world heavily outweighs the issues and makes it a must-play if you're looking for some good dungeons to explore, and caves to spelunk.
Oh, right, we're talking about DX. Sometimes, you kinda forget that Link's Awakening was originally a 1993 black and white Gameboy title, as the addition of color in the DX version makes the original pretty obsolete. In addition to that, it contains a bonus dungeon with a very useful powerup, and an optional side quest, that albeit mechanically useless due to its dependence on the Gameboy Camera, still provides some cute art that makes it worth seeking out. In other words, make the DX version your priority, it keeps everything and adds more cool stuff on top.
Despite being an 8-bit title, I was impressed by the translation of Link to the Past QoL features onto it. Your sword still a satisfying sense of range, and with the press of one button, you have access to a full map of the overworld, although in this instance, it fills out as you go along. It'll still ensure that you'll never get lost, and really makes me wonder why Zelda 1 couldn't do this. Was the case that the Gameboy had more powerful specs that allowed for a full map compared to Zelda 1 on the NES? Or was Zelda 1's inclusion of a manual map a fully intentional choice rather than a technical one? Either way, the way Link's Awakening handled it is much more preferable.
The world has an immense amount of locale variety, and each dungeon will challenge you in new ways through each new item it introduces. It's crazy just how close to Link to the Past's quality this game is, if not, in my opinion, even better. It feels like there's less overall empty space in the overworld, in part due to game going back to a grid-based map with each room being a square long, which makes each room feel like it serves more purpose. Perfect for a handheld entry.
Something I find especially enticing about Link's Awakening is the tone of the story itself, which seperates the series from the generic fantasy roots, and strands you within the confines of a mysterious island directly inspired by Twin Peaks. It definitely shows, the NPC's aren't just stilted hint dispensers directly telling you what to do, they're much closer to people with their own lives, with hints disguised behind their troubles, or their curiosity over something they saw recently. But even sometimes, their dialogue isn't about giving you a hint at all, sometimes they're just minding their own business, or doing something weird or silly that doesn't help you at all. And while all of this sounds completely expected for a modern player, believe you me, if you were to play a couple RPG's that were released around this time, the way Link's Awakening handles NPC dialogue would be a refreshing breath of air.
All this makes the moral conundrum of the story that appears within the latter half all the more interesting, as Link's Awakening proceeds to raise an existential question within its latter half, challenging your preconception of what is right, what is wrong, and whether your quest is even worth it. I mean, we're not talking master-class writing here, but because of the strong sense of personality this game exudes, the things it wants to ask yourself hit pretty strong, and as it lets you contemplate this all the way to the final stretch of gameplay, it'll hit all the more strongly. It's a simple, yet powerful story about what are you willing to sacrifice to succeed in your goal, and even if it may make me look stupid, I always tear up a little for its message.
There's a lot of good, but there is a little bit of jank. Firstly, going back to the game having very few buttons to work with, the inventory system takes some getting used to. While Zelda 1 has one slot to equip an item in, Link's Awakening has two, and that includes the slot you equip your sword in. Where this screws up is the impractical implementation of certain equippable items that could've worked far better as context-sensitive-use items. Such as the shield. This did not need to be something you gotta equip for it to work, it could've worked like Zelda 1 where all you do is face towards a projectile to automatically use it.
Ditto for the power gauntlets that let you lift heavy objects, all you needed for that to work is have it activate based on proximity to the object, but instead you gotta equip it first.
Now, generally speaking, you can get away with just keeping your sword on the A button, and whatever current item you need on the B button, but that's still gonna be a whole lot of times where you'll be heading into the inventory to swip and swap and swoop and sweep your items around based on what you currently need, and it surely could've been a lot less with some simplifications of how items work.
Thankfully, the upside to this is that the inventory system is very quick to access, equip, and get out of. Once you get used to it, each inventory-equipping session should take a little less than 3 to 5 seconds.
The second bit of jank pertains to Awakening's random drop items. Occasionally you'll get your usual stuff, like health drops, rupees, and whatnot. But more than often, you might get powerups that double your defense or attack power. What's more, these powerups don't have a time limit on them, they last for as long as you avoid damage, so you could keep them for long amounts of time if you're good enough. Sounds good, right? Okay, now imagine the entire game's soundtrack is replaced by an 8-second jingle that plays on loop for as long as you keep this powerup.
The result is that you eventually start deliberately avoiding these powerups, and everytime you accidentally touch one, you go "fuck!" and proceed to start deliberately taking damage just so that maddening jingle can stop playing. It's like if you played Mario 1 with nothing but the Starman song on loop. This was a very poorly thought out design decision, and should've been represented through a visual change rather than an auditory one.
On the topic of sound, I would also say that the dungeon music doesn't exactly hold up in all the right places. Having a unique song for each dungeon was admirable, but the game being several kilobytes long means that these are all stupidly short loops, and some of them can get quite grating. I think I would've rather preferred this space to be dedicated to a 2-3 minute dungeon song with more variety, and have just that be used for all dungeons. I mean, one of the dungeons literally just has the cave music but sped up, come on guys.
The best way to play Link's Awakening may be subjective, but my recommendation would be this one. You should also consider getting the Redux romhack, which I think fixes the powerup music issue by disabling it, and introduces some other small QoL things. As for the Switch remake, that could probably be a good way as well, but I'm honestly not big on that version's 30FPS, and its excessive use of depth of field. The soundtrack is a lot nicer, though. All in all, I think the Gameboy Color and the Switch remake both have their pros and cons, and you may just wanna play both of them to experience the game from two wildly different perspectives.
The game itself is wonderful, even amid some of its smaller flaws, and some of the best top-down Zelda action you can get. It's smart, chock-full of content, charming to boot, and even a little sad at times. Next to Minish Cap, it's way up there on my top Zelda games.
Oh, right, we're talking about DX. Sometimes, you kinda forget that Link's Awakening was originally a 1993 black and white Gameboy title, as the addition of color in the DX version makes the original pretty obsolete. In addition to that, it contains a bonus dungeon with a very useful powerup, and an optional side quest, that albeit mechanically useless due to its dependence on the Gameboy Camera, still provides some cute art that makes it worth seeking out. In other words, make the DX version your priority, it keeps everything and adds more cool stuff on top.
Despite being an 8-bit title, I was impressed by the translation of Link to the Past QoL features onto it. Your sword still a satisfying sense of range, and with the press of one button, you have access to a full map of the overworld, although in this instance, it fills out as you go along. It'll still ensure that you'll never get lost, and really makes me wonder why Zelda 1 couldn't do this. Was the case that the Gameboy had more powerful specs that allowed for a full map compared to Zelda 1 on the NES? Or was Zelda 1's inclusion of a manual map a fully intentional choice rather than a technical one? Either way, the way Link's Awakening handled it is much more preferable.
The world has an immense amount of locale variety, and each dungeon will challenge you in new ways through each new item it introduces. It's crazy just how close to Link to the Past's quality this game is, if not, in my opinion, even better. It feels like there's less overall empty space in the overworld, in part due to game going back to a grid-based map with each room being a square long, which makes each room feel like it serves more purpose. Perfect for a handheld entry.
Something I find especially enticing about Link's Awakening is the tone of the story itself, which seperates the series from the generic fantasy roots, and strands you within the confines of a mysterious island directly inspired by Twin Peaks. It definitely shows, the NPC's aren't just stilted hint dispensers directly telling you what to do, they're much closer to people with their own lives, with hints disguised behind their troubles, or their curiosity over something they saw recently. But even sometimes, their dialogue isn't about giving you a hint at all, sometimes they're just minding their own business, or doing something weird or silly that doesn't help you at all. And while all of this sounds completely expected for a modern player, believe you me, if you were to play a couple RPG's that were released around this time, the way Link's Awakening handles NPC dialogue would be a refreshing breath of air.
All this makes the moral conundrum of the story that appears within the latter half all the more interesting, as Link's Awakening proceeds to raise an existential question within its latter half, challenging your preconception of what is right, what is wrong, and whether your quest is even worth it. I mean, we're not talking master-class writing here, but because of the strong sense of personality this game exudes, the things it wants to ask yourself hit pretty strong, and as it lets you contemplate this all the way to the final stretch of gameplay, it'll hit all the more strongly. It's a simple, yet powerful story about what are you willing to sacrifice to succeed in your goal, and even if it may make me look stupid, I always tear up a little for its message.
There's a lot of good, but there is a little bit of jank. Firstly, going back to the game having very few buttons to work with, the inventory system takes some getting used to. While Zelda 1 has one slot to equip an item in, Link's Awakening has two, and that includes the slot you equip your sword in. Where this screws up is the impractical implementation of certain equippable items that could've worked far better as context-sensitive-use items. Such as the shield. This did not need to be something you gotta equip for it to work, it could've worked like Zelda 1 where all you do is face towards a projectile to automatically use it.
Ditto for the power gauntlets that let you lift heavy objects, all you needed for that to work is have it activate based on proximity to the object, but instead you gotta equip it first.
Now, generally speaking, you can get away with just keeping your sword on the A button, and whatever current item you need on the B button, but that's still gonna be a whole lot of times where you'll be heading into the inventory to swip and swap and swoop and sweep your items around based on what you currently need, and it surely could've been a lot less with some simplifications of how items work.
Thankfully, the upside to this is that the inventory system is very quick to access, equip, and get out of. Once you get used to it, each inventory-equipping session should take a little less than 3 to 5 seconds.
The second bit of jank pertains to Awakening's random drop items. Occasionally you'll get your usual stuff, like health drops, rupees, and whatnot. But more than often, you might get powerups that double your defense or attack power. What's more, these powerups don't have a time limit on them, they last for as long as you avoid damage, so you could keep them for long amounts of time if you're good enough. Sounds good, right? Okay, now imagine the entire game's soundtrack is replaced by an 8-second jingle that plays on loop for as long as you keep this powerup.
The result is that you eventually start deliberately avoiding these powerups, and everytime you accidentally touch one, you go "fuck!" and proceed to start deliberately taking damage just so that maddening jingle can stop playing. It's like if you played Mario 1 with nothing but the Starman song on loop. This was a very poorly thought out design decision, and should've been represented through a visual change rather than an auditory one.
On the topic of sound, I would also say that the dungeon music doesn't exactly hold up in all the right places. Having a unique song for each dungeon was admirable, but the game being several kilobytes long means that these are all stupidly short loops, and some of them can get quite grating. I think I would've rather preferred this space to be dedicated to a 2-3 minute dungeon song with more variety, and have just that be used for all dungeons. I mean, one of the dungeons literally just has the cave music but sped up, come on guys.
The best way to play Link's Awakening may be subjective, but my recommendation would be this one. You should also consider getting the Redux romhack, which I think fixes the powerup music issue by disabling it, and introduces some other small QoL things. As for the Switch remake, that could probably be a good way as well, but I'm honestly not big on that version's 30FPS, and its excessive use of depth of field. The soundtrack is a lot nicer, though. All in all, I think the Gameboy Color and the Switch remake both have their pros and cons, and you may just wanna play both of them to experience the game from two wildly different perspectives.
The game itself is wonderful, even amid some of its smaller flaws, and some of the best top-down Zelda action you can get. It's smart, chock-full of content, charming to boot, and even a little sad at times. Next to Minish Cap, it's way up there on my top Zelda games.
The remaster does a great job at upgrading the game, while still remaining faithful to its aesthetical style. But looking back at the original, it's no slouch either. Day of the Tentacle's cartoony bouncy art held up really well, leaning into weird twisty abstract rooms that ensure you won't get bored exploring the areas. Taking a look at the concept art gallery sometime is highly recommended, Peter Chan did not fuck around, that man has some serious chops.
On the topic of areas, there are three major ones, as you'll be switching between the past, present, and future in order to influence the events in each time period. As with most point 'n clicks, the game can be seen as a couple dozen locks that require their own particular key to unlock, and after taking some time to familiarize yourself with the layouts, you get into a flow of solving one puzzle only to realize "ah-ha, now I can do that other puzzle", and that loop goes on for a couple hours amongst all the little jokes sprawled about.
The remaster also does something similar to Monkey Island 2's remaster by simplifying the UI into being more context-sensitive, and provides you with a developer's commentary, which gave me some interesting insight into the seemingly pretty free-form development of this game, where the devs kinda just did what they felt like. I can respect that.
Unfortunately, there is no hint system like with the Monkey Island remasters, and so you're gonna have to go back to the old method of trying to figure out what the hell was the mindset of a 1993 developer creating a puzzle that utilizes cartoon moon logic for its solutions, and I don't think you're gonna guess correctly a lot of the time, let alone come to a definitive solution without some amount of trial 'n error, or a "fuck-it" reaction preceded by a Google search. Not every puzzle is like that, but there's enough to offset my enjoyment of a 1st playthrough into caring less and less about engaging my brain into genuinely considering ways to progress.
On the other hand, I've found out that an immediate 2nd playthrough of Day of the Tentacle actually felt more intended than anything I've done in the 1st one. Because now that I've familiarized myself with the solutions, the fun part of Day of the Tentacle becomes optimizing your run into solving as many puzzles as possible before needing to switch between time periods. The open nature of the game's progression means that there's plenty of routes to tackle in plenty of orders, although most likely only one "ultimate" route that is the fastest. But, you can quickly see just how speedrunnable the game becomes, and being able to master a particular route that works for you becomes a very satisfying part of Day of the Tentacle, and the one I enjoyed the most.
Probably the most controversial part of my opinion would be that I don't particularly care for the writing, or especially the voice acting. This is a problem I've voiced for the Monkey 1 remaster, and it is one that I also hold for Sam & Max Hit the Road, and a couple other Tim Schafer games pre-Psychonauts: The voice direction is dull. Extremely dry and monotone.
Aside from Laverne, which I think did a decent job at selling her crazy aspect, barely anybody here is trying anything else but one tone of talking for the whole adventure. This is especially weird for a game that feels very influenced by Looney Tunes, yet lacks any energy required to convey that. All instances where the characters clearly should be yelling, in the very least raising their voice, don't do that. And this has an effect on the jokes themselves, when every character delivers a punchline with the same energy as them talking about the weather. There should be an infectious energy here, I should hear the actors having fun with this writing, and because I don't hear it, I'm not having fun with it myself.
Overall, I think Day of the Tentacle holds up as a classic point 'n click with some serious thought put behind its art, and game design, and the remaster seems like the best way to experience it. However, I think it lacks some pieces that would be required to hook new players in. The lack of a hint system makes it less accessible than the Monkey remasters, and the voice acting, though surely impressive back in 1993 for just being there at all, fails to match the looney aesthetic of the game and causes the otherwise clever writing sound pretty boring. I think every adventure game enthusiast should play this game at least once, as it's always possible it'll click with you more than me, but I viewed it alright at best.
On the topic of areas, there are three major ones, as you'll be switching between the past, present, and future in order to influence the events in each time period. As with most point 'n clicks, the game can be seen as a couple dozen locks that require their own particular key to unlock, and after taking some time to familiarize yourself with the layouts, you get into a flow of solving one puzzle only to realize "ah-ha, now I can do that other puzzle", and that loop goes on for a couple hours amongst all the little jokes sprawled about.
The remaster also does something similar to Monkey Island 2's remaster by simplifying the UI into being more context-sensitive, and provides you with a developer's commentary, which gave me some interesting insight into the seemingly pretty free-form development of this game, where the devs kinda just did what they felt like. I can respect that.
Unfortunately, there is no hint system like with the Monkey Island remasters, and so you're gonna have to go back to the old method of trying to figure out what the hell was the mindset of a 1993 developer creating a puzzle that utilizes cartoon moon logic for its solutions, and I don't think you're gonna guess correctly a lot of the time, let alone come to a definitive solution without some amount of trial 'n error, or a "fuck-it" reaction preceded by a Google search. Not every puzzle is like that, but there's enough to offset my enjoyment of a 1st playthrough into caring less and less about engaging my brain into genuinely considering ways to progress.
On the other hand, I've found out that an immediate 2nd playthrough of Day of the Tentacle actually felt more intended than anything I've done in the 1st one. Because now that I've familiarized myself with the solutions, the fun part of Day of the Tentacle becomes optimizing your run into solving as many puzzles as possible before needing to switch between time periods. The open nature of the game's progression means that there's plenty of routes to tackle in plenty of orders, although most likely only one "ultimate" route that is the fastest. But, you can quickly see just how speedrunnable the game becomes, and being able to master a particular route that works for you becomes a very satisfying part of Day of the Tentacle, and the one I enjoyed the most.
Probably the most controversial part of my opinion would be that I don't particularly care for the writing, or especially the voice acting. This is a problem I've voiced for the Monkey 1 remaster, and it is one that I also hold for Sam & Max Hit the Road, and a couple other Tim Schafer games pre-Psychonauts: The voice direction is dull. Extremely dry and monotone.
Aside from Laverne, which I think did a decent job at selling her crazy aspect, barely anybody here is trying anything else but one tone of talking for the whole adventure. This is especially weird for a game that feels very influenced by Looney Tunes, yet lacks any energy required to convey that. All instances where the characters clearly should be yelling, in the very least raising their voice, don't do that. And this has an effect on the jokes themselves, when every character delivers a punchline with the same energy as them talking about the weather. There should be an infectious energy here, I should hear the actors having fun with this writing, and because I don't hear it, I'm not having fun with it myself.
Overall, I think Day of the Tentacle holds up as a classic point 'n click with some serious thought put behind its art, and game design, and the remaster seems like the best way to experience it. However, I think it lacks some pieces that would be required to hook new players in. The lack of a hint system makes it less accessible than the Monkey remasters, and the voice acting, though surely impressive back in 1993 for just being there at all, fails to match the looney aesthetic of the game and causes the otherwise clever writing sound pretty boring. I think every adventure game enthusiast should play this game at least once, as it's always possible it'll click with you more than me, but I viewed it alright at best.
1993
Kirby gained his identity with this entry. This is what you expect out of the series, the ability to take the abilities of your enemies and use them to your own advantage. Naturally, this is the earliest form of this staple mechanic, so you shouldn't expect Smash Bros-like movesets where holding each direction lets you use a power in a different way. The abilities here come down to one single move, one single advantage. But swapping in and out of them is still just as quick, and even this early on, using each power is encouraged to solve bite-sized puzzles for 1-ups, health items, and the occasional secret button. Of course, you could also just try and stick to one powerup, if you're interested, but that'd mean you wouldn't be taking full advantage of the level design given to you. I won't fault you if you really grow to like that Sword, though, I know I did.
Being a very late NES title, Kirby's Adventure has some wonderful art direction on display. The closer you get to the end, the more you start appreciating the variety of colorful and dream-like backgrounds. This was undoubtfully a team that was ready to work on a SNES title, but had to make-do with making one of the best looking NES games instead.
There is plenty of charm to this game, amongst a relaxing difficulty, a great soundtrack, an exciting final boss, and a couple neat one-button minigames to play around with. Under these circumstances, I'd rate it 4.5 stars at least, but there is one single major flaw that really puts a stain on Kirby's Adventure's otherwise impeccable quality: Unresponsive inputs. In other words, sometimes when you press the jump button... Kirby doesn't jump.
Now, I thought I was crazy at first, because this is barely talked about on the internet. I thought it might've been my controller breaking down, and it was time for a replacement. But, every game I've played before and after this one did not have this problem. And I managed to officially confirm it when I asked my friend to keep an eye out when they played the game themselves, and it turned out they also reported instances of the controls randomly failing to respond.
And this fucks the game up, because it feels completely random and unpredictable when it happens, and it has predictably led to several instances of me running straight into an enemy or a bottomless pit because Kirby did not jump when I pressed the button. There's nothing worse than a game where you cannot trust the controls to do what you want. It may be hyperbolic to call it "unplayable," but it's certainly a big enough annoyance to deter me from wanting to play it agai- oop, hold on.
The GBA remake is out there, and plays overall better, although you'd have to to accept that the art style on that one is way different, and imo did not hold up as well as the NES counterpart. I did however, learn just now that there's a romhack for the NES version that's meant to fix the inputs. So, perhaps this is the definitive way to play the game? I should try it out sometime! Especially since playing the game without it does not seem like a good idea these days.
Being a very late NES title, Kirby's Adventure has some wonderful art direction on display. The closer you get to the end, the more you start appreciating the variety of colorful and dream-like backgrounds. This was undoubtfully a team that was ready to work on a SNES title, but had to make-do with making one of the best looking NES games instead.
There is plenty of charm to this game, amongst a relaxing difficulty, a great soundtrack, an exciting final boss, and a couple neat one-button minigames to play around with. Under these circumstances, I'd rate it 4.5 stars at least, but there is one single major flaw that really puts a stain on Kirby's Adventure's otherwise impeccable quality: Unresponsive inputs. In other words, sometimes when you press the jump button... Kirby doesn't jump.
Now, I thought I was crazy at first, because this is barely talked about on the internet. I thought it might've been my controller breaking down, and it was time for a replacement. But, every game I've played before and after this one did not have this problem. And I managed to officially confirm it when I asked my friend to keep an eye out when they played the game themselves, and it turned out they also reported instances of the controls randomly failing to respond.
And this fucks the game up, because it feels completely random and unpredictable when it happens, and it has predictably led to several instances of me running straight into an enemy or a bottomless pit because Kirby did not jump when I pressed the button. There's nothing worse than a game where you cannot trust the controls to do what you want. It may be hyperbolic to call it "unplayable," but it's certainly a big enough annoyance to deter me from wanting to play it agai- oop, hold on.
The GBA remake is out there, and plays overall better, although you'd have to to accept that the art style on that one is way different, and imo did not hold up as well as the NES counterpart. I did however, learn just now that there's a romhack for the NES version that's meant to fix the inputs. So, perhaps this is the definitive way to play the game? I should try it out sometime! Especially since playing the game without it does not seem like a good idea these days.
1993
Impressive for its time, but that frame rate takes some serious getting used to. And forget about using a romhack to increase it, you're just gonna wind up with a game that's too fast to react to things. Obviously, the game was designed with this frame rate in mind. But I just can't get over that, and would rather play the later Star Foxes instead.
1992
Yep, it's another one! You've got four stages from Mega Man 3, and four stages from Mega Man 4 here, with different level layouts to tackle. I was shocked to find out from the reviews here that this game's actually pretty hard, which I suppose I wouldn't have known since for this particular entry, I've only ever done casual rewindey runs of it. But it's something to keep in mind if you're planning to go into it raw.
If there's one single thing that got an uplift here, it's the soundtrack. No more of that high-pitched blaring that Mega Man II had, we're back to using Gameboy conversions of the NES songs, and they're done well enough. What's really nice though, are the few original tracks made for this game. I'd like to highlight the Weapon Get theme, the Wily fortress theme, and the credits song as bangers. The credits song especially, which has become one of my favorite Mega Man themes in recent memory due to its combination of catchiness and melancholy feeling. It almost makes playing the whole game worth it. Almost.
Overall, it's okay, and will only satisfy the most hardcore of Mega Man fans from the looks of it. I don't regret playing it myself, but obviously, with the use of rewind, I have a bit of bias here.
If there's one single thing that got an uplift here, it's the soundtrack. No more of that high-pitched blaring that Mega Man II had, we're back to using Gameboy conversions of the NES songs, and they're done well enough. What's really nice though, are the few original tracks made for this game. I'd like to highlight the Weapon Get theme, the Wily fortress theme, and the credits song as bangers. The credits song especially, which has become one of my favorite Mega Man themes in recent memory due to its combination of catchiness and melancholy feeling. It almost makes playing the whole game worth it. Almost.
Overall, it's okay, and will only satisfy the most hardcore of Mega Man fans from the looks of it. I don't regret playing it myself, but obviously, with the use of rewind, I have a bit of bias here.
2023
(Due to an update that added a map feature, this review and my thoughts on the game are now outdated. Might rewrite this sometime in the future.)
Every good 3D platformer has "that one move." You know the one, the one that gives you a lot of distance, speed, and the ability to perform some wild shortcuts. Pseudoregalia knows this, and it knows that that shit rocks, and so the entire game is made around this feeling.
I really liked the open-ended structure of the game. Like everyone else, I was also a big fan of the Mario 64-like moveset, which allows you to find crafty solutions towards platforming challenges, some of which don't feel intended at all. There's a huge amount of versatility here, and an impressive amount of orders to tackle the world in. The music's pretty alright as well, and I enjoyed the N64 aesthetic. Its simplicity makes it very readable, and perfect for a game this reliant on nailing acrobatics.
As much as playing the game was fun, what I really struggled with was the idea of finishing it. We're talking about a game the length of two or three huge Zelda dungeons here, a Zelda dungeon where there is no compass or map to speak of. I understand that this was an intentional design choice, but depending on your ability to map things out or the way your intuition guides you, this will either be a smooth sailing experience, or an intensely frustrating slog. And as you cover more of the game's areas, the more likely the chances will be that you'll start running around in circles trying to figure out where was that one singular room that you missed.
Aside from my sense of direction being dogshit, I think it doesn't help that the game has a ton of doors leading in all sorts of direction, and not enough landmarks to distinguish where exactly are you. As you re-enter a room, you have a general sense of familiarity that you've been here before, but it'll be much more difficult for you to determine where you haven't. I understand not everyone agrees that this game should have a map, but I respectfully believe it should've been an optional thing in the Accessibility settings at least. Something that fills out as you go along, but doesn't show you the full picture. There's only so much fun I can have with the game's platforming, before I start getting anxious if I'm ever gonna find a way to progress or if this is as far as I'm ever gonna make it.
I've heard the developer is gonna be adding a map in soon, though, and I really appreciate that. I love Metroidvanias, but I cannot bear playing one without some degree of navigation. Part of what I love about these games is being able to chart a course once I get familiar with a majority of the map, like I'm a sea captain. Without a course to chart, I'm drifting across a lonely sea, without a goal to speak of, and that makes me no captain at all. There is appeal to "the sensation of being lost," but I can't really see it working in a Metroidvania game where you still have to hunt down that one ability in that one corner of the map. When the game starts asking me to stop being lost, but provides me no means to do so other than relying on my crappy memory.
In the end, much of this game's problems are actually my problem, but I can see it being a lot of other people's problems as well. Once that map gets added though, I could easily see myself bumping this game's rating up to 4 stars. I loved playing it. Without a map, I did not enjoy having to beat it.
Every good 3D platformer has "that one move." You know the one, the one that gives you a lot of distance, speed, and the ability to perform some wild shortcuts. Pseudoregalia knows this, and it knows that that shit rocks, and so the entire game is made around this feeling.
I really liked the open-ended structure of the game. Like everyone else, I was also a big fan of the Mario 64-like moveset, which allows you to find crafty solutions towards platforming challenges, some of which don't feel intended at all. There's a huge amount of versatility here, and an impressive amount of orders to tackle the world in. The music's pretty alright as well, and I enjoyed the N64 aesthetic. Its simplicity makes it very readable, and perfect for a game this reliant on nailing acrobatics.
As much as playing the game was fun, what I really struggled with was the idea of finishing it. We're talking about a game the length of two or three huge Zelda dungeons here, a Zelda dungeon where there is no compass or map to speak of. I understand that this was an intentional design choice, but depending on your ability to map things out or the way your intuition guides you, this will either be a smooth sailing experience, or an intensely frustrating slog. And as you cover more of the game's areas, the more likely the chances will be that you'll start running around in circles trying to figure out where was that one singular room that you missed.
Aside from my sense of direction being dogshit, I think it doesn't help that the game has a ton of doors leading in all sorts of direction, and not enough landmarks to distinguish where exactly are you. As you re-enter a room, you have a general sense of familiarity that you've been here before, but it'll be much more difficult for you to determine where you haven't. I understand not everyone agrees that this game should have a map, but I respectfully believe it should've been an optional thing in the Accessibility settings at least. Something that fills out as you go along, but doesn't show you the full picture. There's only so much fun I can have with the game's platforming, before I start getting anxious if I'm ever gonna find a way to progress or if this is as far as I'm ever gonna make it.
I've heard the developer is gonna be adding a map in soon, though, and I really appreciate that. I love Metroidvanias, but I cannot bear playing one without some degree of navigation. Part of what I love about these games is being able to chart a course once I get familiar with a majority of the map, like I'm a sea captain. Without a course to chart, I'm drifting across a lonely sea, without a goal to speak of, and that makes me no captain at all. There is appeal to "the sensation of being lost," but I can't really see it working in a Metroidvania game where you still have to hunt down that one ability in that one corner of the map. When the game starts asking me to stop being lost, but provides me no means to do so other than relying on my crappy memory.
In the end, much of this game's problems are actually my problem, but I can see it being a lot of other people's problems as well. Once that map gets added though, I could easily see myself bumping this game's rating up to 4 stars. I loved playing it. Without a map, I did not enjoy having to beat it.
1992
Probably the most average of the 6 NES Mega Mans. Prior to this one, I could name at least one major addition to the series. Mega Man 2 has the E-tanks, Mega Man 3 has the slide, Mega Man 4 has the charge shot. Mega Man 5? Uh, it has, um... improved charge shot graphics? Oh yeah, it has Beat, that bird companion you unlock after amassing enough collectibles. The thing is, I... don't ever use Beat, because Mega Man himself is all you need to really get the job done.
Does this mean I don't like it? No, I mean, if you liked Mega Man 4, there's not much reason you won't like this one either. It plays just like the previous entries, and the design of the stages holds up very well. Challenging, but fair, as it should be. But when it comes to Mega Man 5, we're not just talking about lack of innovation, which I can accept as long as the game stays as consistently fun as it was before. What we're talking here is a lack of soul, of identity. The big hook of the plot is completely underutilized and wasted on a predictable fakeout. And that's something you start paying attention more to when there's no new mechanics to distract you away from it. That is to say, 5 apes 4 way too much, and as a result, I wouldn't be surprised if people confused moments from this game as being from 4, like I did.
There are some unique moments though, such as the train level for Charge Man, or the mechanic of changing gravity in Gravity Man's level. So it's not totally devoid of uniqueness, it just may not be enough to offset the parts of the game that feel like a remixed 4. Overall, the game's not a bad time, but it ends up being just alright, and not much else but.
Does this mean I don't like it? No, I mean, if you liked Mega Man 4, there's not much reason you won't like this one either. It plays just like the previous entries, and the design of the stages holds up very well. Challenging, but fair, as it should be. But when it comes to Mega Man 5, we're not just talking about lack of innovation, which I can accept as long as the game stays as consistently fun as it was before. What we're talking here is a lack of soul, of identity. The big hook of the plot is completely underutilized and wasted on a predictable fakeout. And that's something you start paying attention more to when there's no new mechanics to distract you away from it. That is to say, 5 apes 4 way too much, and as a result, I wouldn't be surprised if people confused moments from this game as being from 4, like I did.
There are some unique moments though, such as the train level for Charge Man, or the mechanic of changing gravity in Gravity Man's level. So it's not totally devoid of uniqueness, it just may not be enough to offset the parts of the game that feel like a remixed 4. Overall, the game's not a bad time, but it ends up being just alright, and not much else but.