flcl4evr
Vicarious Visions attempts to translate the tight, polished gameplay of legendary arcade sports title Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 through the firm limitations of the Game Boy Advance. It works....mostly.
Utilizing an isometric perspective to present the 3D levels of the original game in 2D, THPS2 on the GBA does a phenomenal job of recreating the geometry of the the classic levels such as Hangar, and School II. Oddly enough, levels of THPS are thrown in as well, such as Warehouse and New York City. These levels are faithfully rebuilt in the new perspective with minor adjustments to make it easier for players to navigate.
Unfortunately the controller limitations of the Game Boy Advance do not allow for a full translation of the gameplay itself into these new levels: the top down isometric perspective makes it challenging to consistently control your skater, and mapping the traditional face button actions such as performing flip tricks and pulling off grab tricks to the GBA shoulder buttons makes things a bit clunky.
Also the music is.....bad. I get what they were going for, but its not terribly interesting.
At the end of the day, its very playable with a ton of patience, but it is no substitute for the real deal on the PlayStation or the Dreamcast.
Utilizing an isometric perspective to present the 3D levels of the original game in 2D, THPS2 on the GBA does a phenomenal job of recreating the geometry of the the classic levels such as Hangar, and School II. Oddly enough, levels of THPS are thrown in as well, such as Warehouse and New York City. These levels are faithfully rebuilt in the new perspective with minor adjustments to make it easier for players to navigate.
Unfortunately the controller limitations of the Game Boy Advance do not allow for a full translation of the gameplay itself into these new levels: the top down isometric perspective makes it challenging to consistently control your skater, and mapping the traditional face button actions such as performing flip tricks and pulling off grab tricks to the GBA shoulder buttons makes things a bit clunky.
Also the music is.....bad. I get what they were going for, but its not terribly interesting.
At the end of the day, its very playable with a ton of patience, but it is no substitute for the real deal on the PlayStation or the Dreamcast.
I don't need to do a story summary - this entire game is a story summary of the major Kingdom Hearts games unto itself.
Through the premise of probing Kairi's memories for new information, players are treated to a run through of all of the classic music that has accompanied the Kingdom Hearts games over its two decade history. It covers the original trilogy as well as Chain of Memories, Birth By Sleep, Dream Drop Distance, and even has like two?? songs from Re: Coded.
The structure is simple: you are tasked with clearing out the many worlds of the Kingdom Hearts franchise by completing rhythm game sequences set to the wonderful world and battle music that's been implanted in my brain since 2002. Each song has 3 distinct goals that you must hit by completing different tasks and each one has three distinct difficulties that you can work through to appropriately challenge yourself. Progress is gated by how many goals you clear which grant stars for progression, and a boss battle is plopped onto the tail end of each of the main 3 games.
The rhythm game component of Melody of Memory, designed by the team who develops the Theatrhythm titles, attempts to approximate the combat of Kingdom Hearts by sending Sora, Donald, and Goofy down a track that tasks them with pressing the A or shoulder buttons to hit enemies, the B button to jump upwards and occasionally glide, and the Y button to activate special abilities to....also attack enemies. Instead of the clean UI and track design of Theatrhythm, you just charge onwards into countless heartless from the franchise to....mixed success. This main game mode feels imprecise, and the use of enemy models instead of button prompts can make it difficult to determine what speed you need to hit the heartless at. There isn't very much in terms to feedback to help guide you when you've missed enemies, and on proud mode this can lead to utter disaster. It works, but it doesn't feel spectacular in terms of precision even with game mode enabled on my LG C1 OLED television.
Man. They should have just made a normal Theatrhythm game with these tunes.
There are also boss battle sequences that switch things up by having notes move at you in more or a pseudo 2D perspective and cutscene sequences in which you do more traditional Theatrhythm-like game play, but there's like 3 boss battles are 5 cutscene sequences in total, which feels like too little, too late. The lack of boss battles in a game celebrating Kingdom Hearts, which is chocked full of bosses, also feels like a huge omission, especially since those sequences are a big step up in terms of clarity and responsiveness.
It's a great premise, but the execution is middling at best. Thank god we have Theatrhythm: Final Bar Line to wash away the taste.
Through the premise of probing Kairi's memories for new information, players are treated to a run through of all of the classic music that has accompanied the Kingdom Hearts games over its two decade history. It covers the original trilogy as well as Chain of Memories, Birth By Sleep, Dream Drop Distance, and even has like two?? songs from Re: Coded.
The structure is simple: you are tasked with clearing out the many worlds of the Kingdom Hearts franchise by completing rhythm game sequences set to the wonderful world and battle music that's been implanted in my brain since 2002. Each song has 3 distinct goals that you must hit by completing different tasks and each one has three distinct difficulties that you can work through to appropriately challenge yourself. Progress is gated by how many goals you clear which grant stars for progression, and a boss battle is plopped onto the tail end of each of the main 3 games.
The rhythm game component of Melody of Memory, designed by the team who develops the Theatrhythm titles, attempts to approximate the combat of Kingdom Hearts by sending Sora, Donald, and Goofy down a track that tasks them with pressing the A or shoulder buttons to hit enemies, the B button to jump upwards and occasionally glide, and the Y button to activate special abilities to....also attack enemies. Instead of the clean UI and track design of Theatrhythm, you just charge onwards into countless heartless from the franchise to....mixed success. This main game mode feels imprecise, and the use of enemy models instead of button prompts can make it difficult to determine what speed you need to hit the heartless at. There isn't very much in terms to feedback to help guide you when you've missed enemies, and on proud mode this can lead to utter disaster. It works, but it doesn't feel spectacular in terms of precision even with game mode enabled on my LG C1 OLED television.
Man. They should have just made a normal Theatrhythm game with these tunes.
There are also boss battle sequences that switch things up by having notes move at you in more or a pseudo 2D perspective and cutscene sequences in which you do more traditional Theatrhythm-like game play, but there's like 3 boss battles are 5 cutscene sequences in total, which feels like too little, too late. The lack of boss battles in a game celebrating Kingdom Hearts, which is chocked full of bosses, also feels like a huge omission, especially since those sequences are a big step up in terms of clarity and responsiveness.
It's a great premise, but the execution is middling at best. Thank god we have Theatrhythm: Final Bar Line to wash away the taste.
1996
Before they made Spyro, Insomniac broke onto the PlayStation platform with a Doom-like in which you play as a brick wall dense soldier who’s been granted the ability to use his mind to tap into different psionic abilities.
Disruptor should be best remembered as a successful attempt at creating a first person shooter for the PlayStation that takes advantage of the hardware’s 3D capabilities to great effect. Disruptor runs smoothly, only falters in moments of high particle nonsense, and features 13 levels that are largely navigable with a standard 4 direction dpad with ease.
It should also be remembered for its cheesy, earnestly acted FMV cutscenes. The production value is so low, and the acting so broad that you can’t help but smile as everyone chews scenery between each mission.
What it won’t be remembered for is it’s weapons, which all feel pretty mushy to blast into your enemies, and your psionic abilities that have weirdly tight collision boxes that have a tendency to miss even at close range. Or it’s lengthy levels that have a single mid-level checkpoint and only give you three chances to restart from that checkpoint. Or it’s relentless difficulty curve that continues upwards throughout the game’s 13 levels.
With some tweaks to its checkpoint system and some retooling of its weapons, Disruptor could be a really great PlayStation first person shooter. As it stands, there’s fun to be had, especially in its earlier levels where you’re comfortably zooming along, blasting dudes without a care, but it can’t sustain its level of fun under its relentless challenge.
Let’s just be glad they figured it out in time for the PlayStation 3 launch.
Disruptor should be best remembered as a successful attempt at creating a first person shooter for the PlayStation that takes advantage of the hardware’s 3D capabilities to great effect. Disruptor runs smoothly, only falters in moments of high particle nonsense, and features 13 levels that are largely navigable with a standard 4 direction dpad with ease.
It should also be remembered for its cheesy, earnestly acted FMV cutscenes. The production value is so low, and the acting so broad that you can’t help but smile as everyone chews scenery between each mission.
What it won’t be remembered for is it’s weapons, which all feel pretty mushy to blast into your enemies, and your psionic abilities that have weirdly tight collision boxes that have a tendency to miss even at close range. Or it’s lengthy levels that have a single mid-level checkpoint and only give you three chances to restart from that checkpoint. Or it’s relentless difficulty curve that continues upwards throughout the game’s 13 levels.
With some tweaks to its checkpoint system and some retooling of its weapons, Disruptor could be a really great PlayStation first person shooter. As it stands, there’s fun to be had, especially in its earlier levels where you’re comfortably zooming along, blasting dudes without a care, but it can’t sustain its level of fun under its relentless challenge.
Let’s just be glad they figured it out in time for the PlayStation 3 launch.
2008
Your sister, Tooty, has been kidnapped by the nefarious witch Gruntilda. It's up to you, Banjo, and your trusted, but surprisingly bitter companion Kazooie, to save her from having her beauty stolen. The only thing in your way? Gruntilda's luxurious lair, decorated with portals to multiple realms you must plunder for resources to reach your sister.
Man oh man do I wish that I'd played Banjo-Kazooie when I had a lot more patience for 3D Platformers that expect precision movements. I found that I myself was the biggest obstacle between myself and enjoying this touched up Nintendo 64 classic. It's a wonderfully designed collectathon platformer with 9 levels filled to the brim with a variety of objectives, collectibles, and new abilities to enrich your journey through Gruntilda's lair.
But.
It's also a 90s 3D Platformer. That means you have to wrangle with the camera, deal with a host of imprecise controls that become barriers to progress (I'm looking at you, swimming and flying controls), and some pretty obscure objectives that require you to make pretty large leaps in logic to complete. Especially in the latter half of the game's 9 massive playground-esque levels, I hit multiple walls where I really ended up scraping against every bit of the terrain in order to find some basic progress. You also have limited lives, and losing them sends you all the way back to not just the beginning of the level you're working on, but to the beginning of Gruntilda's lair. Every time something a poor choice or cheap mechanic led to the loss of all of my lives I could feel my blood pressure rising. Man.
Beyond my grievances however, is a colorful, huge game that really encourages you to dig in and explore everything it has to offer. Every level introduces new objects to engage with and a slew of new moves and new ways to convince you engage with older moves as you run, jump, and climb your way through each of the 9 levels. Not all of the level design is intuitive within the game's limited camera control and movement, but its a richly designed experience that's every bit as creative and interesting as its contemporaries; I found myself reflecting on my relationship with the later entries in the Spyro trilogy which are two games that definitely take a similar approach in collecting and objective driven gameplay to Banjo Kazooie. I love those games.
So why don't I love Banjo-Kazooie?
Well. I played them Spyro games when I was all of about 8 years old. My relationship with those games goes back an entire generation at this point. It's aged like a fine wine.
I played Banjo-Kazooie as a 27 year old. 27 year old had a pretty bad time. I yelled. Hooted. Hollered. Cheered when it was over. Because of course I did - I don't find as much fun in repetition as someone experiencing it for the first time as a child does. As someone who has that deep connection with it that goes back years. 27 year old me probably rates this a solid 2.5 stars; removing myself and looking at Banjo-Kazooie from the top down and understanding its target audience and its existence over time make its a far more engaging experience.
Banjo-Kazooie is pretty good.
Man oh man do I wish that I'd played Banjo-Kazooie when I had a lot more patience for 3D Platformers that expect precision movements. I found that I myself was the biggest obstacle between myself and enjoying this touched up Nintendo 64 classic. It's a wonderfully designed collectathon platformer with 9 levels filled to the brim with a variety of objectives, collectibles, and new abilities to enrich your journey through Gruntilda's lair.
But.
It's also a 90s 3D Platformer. That means you have to wrangle with the camera, deal with a host of imprecise controls that become barriers to progress (I'm looking at you, swimming and flying controls), and some pretty obscure objectives that require you to make pretty large leaps in logic to complete. Especially in the latter half of the game's 9 massive playground-esque levels, I hit multiple walls where I really ended up scraping against every bit of the terrain in order to find some basic progress. You also have limited lives, and losing them sends you all the way back to not just the beginning of the level you're working on, but to the beginning of Gruntilda's lair. Every time something a poor choice or cheap mechanic led to the loss of all of my lives I could feel my blood pressure rising. Man.
Beyond my grievances however, is a colorful, huge game that really encourages you to dig in and explore everything it has to offer. Every level introduces new objects to engage with and a slew of new moves and new ways to convince you engage with older moves as you run, jump, and climb your way through each of the 9 levels. Not all of the level design is intuitive within the game's limited camera control and movement, but its a richly designed experience that's every bit as creative and interesting as its contemporaries; I found myself reflecting on my relationship with the later entries in the Spyro trilogy which are two games that definitely take a similar approach in collecting and objective driven gameplay to Banjo Kazooie. I love those games.
So why don't I love Banjo-Kazooie?
Well. I played them Spyro games when I was all of about 8 years old. My relationship with those games goes back an entire generation at this point. It's aged like a fine wine.
I played Banjo-Kazooie as a 27 year old. 27 year old had a pretty bad time. I yelled. Hooted. Hollered. Cheered when it was over. Because of course I did - I don't find as much fun in repetition as someone experiencing it for the first time as a child does. As someone who has that deep connection with it that goes back years. 27 year old me probably rates this a solid 2.5 stars; removing myself and looking at Banjo-Kazooie from the top down and understanding its target audience and its existence over time make its a far more engaging experience.
Banjo-Kazooie is pretty good.
2020
A year in the country with your uncle and his daughter turns into a desperate hunt for a serial killer whose unique method appears to be taking victims and throwing them into televisions....will the power of the friends you made along the way be enough to bring this killer to justice, or is high school truly condemned to be the worst years of your life?
Originally released doomed to obscurity on the Playstation Vita, the rebuild of the 2008 Playstation 2 role playing game Persona 4, Persona 4: Golden, has finally been issued digitally on every single major console platform. With this, this major JRPG has finally been given the availability that its massive scale, intimate storytelling, and accessible turn based combat truly deserve.
Spread across the length of a Japanese school year, you role play as a teenager who's moved into the small rural town of Inaba; Inaba faces a series of relatable problems; its teenagers are messy and unsure of themselves, a Walmart synonym, Junes, has moved into town and begun suffocating local business, and several of its members have been recently found dead without any leads. Ooops. Over the course of this school year, not only will you have to develop the JRPG skills necessary to stop and apprehend this killer, but you will also have to master life's greatest barriers - successful socialization with peers, getting a girlfriend, and making sure you pass your high school midterms. It's this added component that makes the Persona series as popular as it is relative to other JRPGs of its pedigree and size. There's a wonderful balance between dungeon crawling and turn based combat and interacting with friends and family alike. The emphasis on socializing is presented through the social link mechanic - the more time you spend with the people you care about in Inaba, the more you level up their social links, which expands their ability in combat if they're party members, or your ability to collect and create personas, the constructs you bring with you into battle to exploit their abilities, based off of the arcana those particular people are linked to. Each time you clear one of the game's dungeons and the story progresses, you're given a distinct number of days in which you have to decide whether you're hoping into the dungeons to build towards a clear, or chillin with your buds. Spend too much time dungeon crawling and you won't make any friends. Spend too much time making friends and you won't clear any dungeons; also you have to devote time to building other skills, such as your knowledge rating and your expression rating. Figuring out how to juggle all of these just right is the game's secret sauce. Its incredibly compelling.
When you're not spending time hanging out on the streets of Inaba, the game compels you to enter a TV in order to seek out and save the potential victims of our mysterious serial killer; referred to in game as the TV World, this is where the meat and potatoes of Persona 4 is stashed away; here is where you collect and develop the titular personas in order to build a wealth of abilities, both physical and magical, to allow you to progress through the game's many dungeons. These dungeons, largely procedural, are filled with enemies. The design is straightforward - climb to the bottom or the top in order to defeat a powerful enemy. Rinse. Repeat. Its simplicity, combined with the wonderful Press Turn combat system that rewards you for learning the weaknesses of each enemy to allow you to exploit them, makes for a wonderful dungeon crawling experience. Within each dungeon is a set of personas that you can catch and develop, as well as fuse together to create vast amounts of new personas. It makes each pass through a particular dungeon feel fresh and exciting as you continue to collect every persona it has to offer.
Sporting a wonderful structure, excellent character writing - some of it incredibly dated and potentially uncomfortable depending on the player, and a brilliantly constructed battle system, Persona 4: Golden is a nearly perfect game.
What takes it from a five star dish to a four star classic is its myriad of endings and the Golden bonus content.
Persona 4: Golden, like its non golden predecessor, has multiple endings. Golden has more than vanilla of course, and each of them have convoluted ways of triggering them that requires you to approach certain scenarios with an element of trial and error in order to successfully attain them. This feels weak. I feel this way towards any game that offers these kinds of hoops to jump through in order to obtain what the creators feel is a "true," or "canon," ending. The process of obtaining the most ideal ending in Persona 4: Golden exhausted much of the good will that the previous 65 hours of solid, rich video game built up within me. What a shame. Also they shove a new character in there to explain some weird contrivances and give her an accompanying dungeon that feels like its from a different game? Weird stuff.
This being considered, I still find Persona 4: Golden to be one worthy of consideration for being part of the video game canon. When its good, its incredibly good. When it isn't, it isn't enough to full dim the greatness on display. You should probably play this excellent video game, even if it does take a good 75 hours to complete. Its worth the time.
Originally released doomed to obscurity on the Playstation Vita, the rebuild of the 2008 Playstation 2 role playing game Persona 4, Persona 4: Golden, has finally been issued digitally on every single major console platform. With this, this major JRPG has finally been given the availability that its massive scale, intimate storytelling, and accessible turn based combat truly deserve.
Spread across the length of a Japanese school year, you role play as a teenager who's moved into the small rural town of Inaba; Inaba faces a series of relatable problems; its teenagers are messy and unsure of themselves, a Walmart synonym, Junes, has moved into town and begun suffocating local business, and several of its members have been recently found dead without any leads. Ooops. Over the course of this school year, not only will you have to develop the JRPG skills necessary to stop and apprehend this killer, but you will also have to master life's greatest barriers - successful socialization with peers, getting a girlfriend, and making sure you pass your high school midterms. It's this added component that makes the Persona series as popular as it is relative to other JRPGs of its pedigree and size. There's a wonderful balance between dungeon crawling and turn based combat and interacting with friends and family alike. The emphasis on socializing is presented through the social link mechanic - the more time you spend with the people you care about in Inaba, the more you level up their social links, which expands their ability in combat if they're party members, or your ability to collect and create personas, the constructs you bring with you into battle to exploit their abilities, based off of the arcana those particular people are linked to. Each time you clear one of the game's dungeons and the story progresses, you're given a distinct number of days in which you have to decide whether you're hoping into the dungeons to build towards a clear, or chillin with your buds. Spend too much time dungeon crawling and you won't make any friends. Spend too much time making friends and you won't clear any dungeons; also you have to devote time to building other skills, such as your knowledge rating and your expression rating. Figuring out how to juggle all of these just right is the game's secret sauce. Its incredibly compelling.
When you're not spending time hanging out on the streets of Inaba, the game compels you to enter a TV in order to seek out and save the potential victims of our mysterious serial killer; referred to in game as the TV World, this is where the meat and potatoes of Persona 4 is stashed away; here is where you collect and develop the titular personas in order to build a wealth of abilities, both physical and magical, to allow you to progress through the game's many dungeons. These dungeons, largely procedural, are filled with enemies. The design is straightforward - climb to the bottom or the top in order to defeat a powerful enemy. Rinse. Repeat. Its simplicity, combined with the wonderful Press Turn combat system that rewards you for learning the weaknesses of each enemy to allow you to exploit them, makes for a wonderful dungeon crawling experience. Within each dungeon is a set of personas that you can catch and develop, as well as fuse together to create vast amounts of new personas. It makes each pass through a particular dungeon feel fresh and exciting as you continue to collect every persona it has to offer.
Sporting a wonderful structure, excellent character writing - some of it incredibly dated and potentially uncomfortable depending on the player, and a brilliantly constructed battle system, Persona 4: Golden is a nearly perfect game.
What takes it from a five star dish to a four star classic is its myriad of endings and the Golden bonus content.
Persona 4: Golden, like its non golden predecessor, has multiple endings. Golden has more than vanilla of course, and each of them have convoluted ways of triggering them that requires you to approach certain scenarios with an element of trial and error in order to successfully attain them. This feels weak. I feel this way towards any game that offers these kinds of hoops to jump through in order to obtain what the creators feel is a "true," or "canon," ending. The process of obtaining the most ideal ending in Persona 4: Golden exhausted much of the good will that the previous 65 hours of solid, rich video game built up within me. What a shame. Also they shove a new character in there to explain some weird contrivances and give her an accompanying dungeon that feels like its from a different game? Weird stuff.
This being considered, I still find Persona 4: Golden to be one worthy of consideration for being part of the video game canon. When its good, its incredibly good. When it isn't, it isn't enough to full dim the greatness on display. You should probably play this excellent video game, even if it does take a good 75 hours to complete. Its worth the time.
A surprise attack on the wall between Garlean occupied Ala Mhigo and the frontiers of the Eorzian Alliance restarts a long dormant desire for two groups of long oppressed people to fight for their freedom from the evil empire. Aided by the Warrior of Light and the combined forces of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, a battle for the freedom of the regions of Doma and Ala Mhigo begins....
I'll keep this brief; Stormblood was a measurably worse experience for me than both A Realm Reborn and Heavensward. Most of this, in its main quest, is due to the pacing of multiplayer dungeons and trials; you will often go ten to fifteen quests without hitting one of these pivotal XIV activities, and even though the boss encounters in Stormblood are incredibly dynamic and refreshing, making me wait sometimes several hours between getting to feast on them makes for a rather dry experience.
Stormblood is where Final Fantasy XIV combat starts to really feel like something special; boss encounters in this expansion force you to adapt quickly to changing mechanics, and some encounters take wide swings at variety. You really get the sense that this is the first expansion where they've really got their sea legs underneath them and are willing to embrace the structure of the combat systems they've designed as a strength. This thoughtful planning carries over into the games' many single player duty events which push strategy and mindfulness into the forefront like never before.
I just wish the pacing allowed for...well...more of it.
It also doesn't help that the dense pacing of quests also greatly slows down the pacing of the large - perhaps too large, scale of the storytelling. You not only liberate the region of Ala Mhigo in its entirety, but are introduced to the region of Doma as well, which requires you to travel the seas for the first time outside of a boat. These regions are vast, distinct areas filled with unique cultures, but every major event that would draw you further into the world shifting conflict at large would be met with five more where you just end up talking to three people in a small village or pick up some dung off the ground. In this way it feels the most let down by the MMO game play loop; it feels awkward to be hailed as the savior of the realm many times over and then be tasked with picking flowers and talking to the locals over and over. Content is paced out in such a way that you seldom truly feel like the realm's Warrior of Light. Sometimes you're just essentially an amazon driver. Sheeesh.
Anyways that last trial owns. Give me a dozen more just like that.
I'll keep this brief; Stormblood was a measurably worse experience for me than both A Realm Reborn and Heavensward. Most of this, in its main quest, is due to the pacing of multiplayer dungeons and trials; you will often go ten to fifteen quests without hitting one of these pivotal XIV activities, and even though the boss encounters in Stormblood are incredibly dynamic and refreshing, making me wait sometimes several hours between getting to feast on them makes for a rather dry experience.
Stormblood is where Final Fantasy XIV combat starts to really feel like something special; boss encounters in this expansion force you to adapt quickly to changing mechanics, and some encounters take wide swings at variety. You really get the sense that this is the first expansion where they've really got their sea legs underneath them and are willing to embrace the structure of the combat systems they've designed as a strength. This thoughtful planning carries over into the games' many single player duty events which push strategy and mindfulness into the forefront like never before.
I just wish the pacing allowed for...well...more of it.
It also doesn't help that the dense pacing of quests also greatly slows down the pacing of the large - perhaps too large, scale of the storytelling. You not only liberate the region of Ala Mhigo in its entirety, but are introduced to the region of Doma as well, which requires you to travel the seas for the first time outside of a boat. These regions are vast, distinct areas filled with unique cultures, but every major event that would draw you further into the world shifting conflict at large would be met with five more where you just end up talking to three people in a small village or pick up some dung off the ground. In this way it feels the most let down by the MMO game play loop; it feels awkward to be hailed as the savior of the realm many times over and then be tasked with picking flowers and talking to the locals over and over. Content is paced out in such a way that you seldom truly feel like the realm's Warrior of Light. Sometimes you're just essentially an amazon driver. Sheeesh.
Anyways that last trial owns. Give me a dozen more just like that.
".....so.....this is The Indominable Cate Archer.....ssssuperspy."
Lost to the annals of pre-digital copyright documents, Monolith's No One Lives Forever stands tall as an excellent example of the blender approach to game design; sprinkle a little Half Life, a little Goldeneye, a little bit of Blood and Shogi in for good measure, an entire VHS cassette collection of The Sean Connery James Bond Collection, and bits and pieces of every 60s Spy novel and film adaptation. Press blend on highest speed. Filter the product through the brains that thought it would be fitting to open Shogi with a full anime intro, and boom: you have one of the all time greats of the first person shooting genre.
You inhabit the role of fledging U.N.I.T.Y. agent Cate Archer, wrangled from a life of petty crime into becoming the world's best hope for survival. After losing her mentor on her first mission in the field, she's forced to build her reputation with the agency from the ground up. In the process she uncovers a great plot to destroy the world; the supervillain organization H.A.R.M. has developed a secret weapon capable to turning anyone into a bomb. Armed with a gun, a slew of gadgets, and enough snark and misogyny from her employers to kill a small child, she alone stands between the world and its complete destabilization.
The Operative: No One Live Forever lives on today in infamy; attempts to secure its rights for rerelease have become its legacy in the era where even Shogi, arguably a less significant game, is available on GoG for purchase. What this obscures is perhaps the finest realization of the late 90s FPS boom; the last great bastion of the wave that started with Quake in 1996 and ended when Master Chief landed on Halo. It has everything; objective driven missions set in tightly designed action levels, a fully voiced story that almost perfectly captures the tone of the 60s Spy craze without becoming Austin Powers-core, a set of punchy, delicious weapons, and a dynamic score that adjusts to match the intensity of what you're getting yourself into, similar to Lucasarts' iMUSE system of old. It's the real deal.
Each level, split into multiple small scenes likely due to memory limitations and story structure decisions, feature a variety of objectives that allow for an excellent chance to roleplay as a 60s super spy. One mission has you meeting up with a contact at different locations to exchange information using janky code phrases, the next has you diving through the wreckage of a sunken freighter ship to seek information on its cargo in full scuba gear. Some missions insist on you moving through the level undetected, while others allow you the freedom to go in guns blazing, Metal Gear Rambo style. If variety in objective and setting isn't enough, the game features a full suite of gadgets and weapons with various forms of ammo that you can mix and match as you please to allow for maximized flexibility in your approach; each level is carefully designed to reward both broad progression, as well as minute exploration to uncover secrets and shortcuts. It's absolutely wonderful.
The game isn't without its shortcomings however; its stealth mechanics can be a bit cumbersome as AI pathing and frustrating camera placements restrict your options in levels that mandate it. Occasionally alarms will go off for seemingly no reason which can sometimes make success feel random.
It also suffers from classic FPS blunders; boss fights feel sloppy and amount to little more than grappling with bullet sponges, and vehicle controls are largely atrocious.
All of these things considered, No One Lives Forever is still an exceptional game. Even encased in copyright carbonite, community support has worked wonders to keep it accessible even on the most modern of Windows operating systems. You owe it to yourself even if you have a little bit of interest in the genre's history or just have an interest in playing excellent games in general to shoot your way through this FPS classic. Highly recommended.
Lost to the annals of pre-digital copyright documents, Monolith's No One Lives Forever stands tall as an excellent example of the blender approach to game design; sprinkle a little Half Life, a little Goldeneye, a little bit of Blood and Shogi in for good measure, an entire VHS cassette collection of The Sean Connery James Bond Collection, and bits and pieces of every 60s Spy novel and film adaptation. Press blend on highest speed. Filter the product through the brains that thought it would be fitting to open Shogi with a full anime intro, and boom: you have one of the all time greats of the first person shooting genre.
You inhabit the role of fledging U.N.I.T.Y. agent Cate Archer, wrangled from a life of petty crime into becoming the world's best hope for survival. After losing her mentor on her first mission in the field, she's forced to build her reputation with the agency from the ground up. In the process she uncovers a great plot to destroy the world; the supervillain organization H.A.R.M. has developed a secret weapon capable to turning anyone into a bomb. Armed with a gun, a slew of gadgets, and enough snark and misogyny from her employers to kill a small child, she alone stands between the world and its complete destabilization.
The Operative: No One Live Forever lives on today in infamy; attempts to secure its rights for rerelease have become its legacy in the era where even Shogi, arguably a less significant game, is available on GoG for purchase. What this obscures is perhaps the finest realization of the late 90s FPS boom; the last great bastion of the wave that started with Quake in 1996 and ended when Master Chief landed on Halo. It has everything; objective driven missions set in tightly designed action levels, a fully voiced story that almost perfectly captures the tone of the 60s Spy craze without becoming Austin Powers-core, a set of punchy, delicious weapons, and a dynamic score that adjusts to match the intensity of what you're getting yourself into, similar to Lucasarts' iMUSE system of old. It's the real deal.
Each level, split into multiple small scenes likely due to memory limitations and story structure decisions, feature a variety of objectives that allow for an excellent chance to roleplay as a 60s super spy. One mission has you meeting up with a contact at different locations to exchange information using janky code phrases, the next has you diving through the wreckage of a sunken freighter ship to seek information on its cargo in full scuba gear. Some missions insist on you moving through the level undetected, while others allow you the freedom to go in guns blazing, Metal Gear Rambo style. If variety in objective and setting isn't enough, the game features a full suite of gadgets and weapons with various forms of ammo that you can mix and match as you please to allow for maximized flexibility in your approach; each level is carefully designed to reward both broad progression, as well as minute exploration to uncover secrets and shortcuts. It's absolutely wonderful.
The game isn't without its shortcomings however; its stealth mechanics can be a bit cumbersome as AI pathing and frustrating camera placements restrict your options in levels that mandate it. Occasionally alarms will go off for seemingly no reason which can sometimes make success feel random.
It also suffers from classic FPS blunders; boss fights feel sloppy and amount to little more than grappling with bullet sponges, and vehicle controls are largely atrocious.
All of these things considered, No One Lives Forever is still an exceptional game. Even encased in copyright carbonite, community support has worked wonders to keep it accessible even on the most modern of Windows operating systems. You owe it to yourself even if you have a little bit of interest in the genre's history or just have an interest in playing excellent games in general to shoot your way through this FPS classic. Highly recommended.
The realm IS IN CHAOS. The Seven Scions? IN TATTERS. And the Warrior of Light? A FUGITIVE IN EXILE.
Time to CLEAN HOUSE and end an age old war between man and dragon in a nation state that is conveniently NOT associated with any of the main 3 featured in A Realm Reborn and A Realm Reawoken.
Heavensward answers the question, "what can the FF XIV development team do if they're not trying to stretch their talents across establishing an entirely new game world of sorts," and the answer is one that I enjoyed a heck of a lot more than anything I experienced in the game that preceded it.
The new environments, characters, and general pacing of the Heavensward main quest are much improved to the point of nearly transcending the nature of its mundane quest structure and routine dungeon design. Much of the game is still walking from one person to the next to read text boxes, and while the writing is more focused and interesting, it still makes for a dry experience.
Heavensward's greatest strength lies in the fact that they haven't fully sunk the game into single player territory; the more multiplayer duties I found myself queuing up for, the more I found myself actively excited to play the game. Running dungeons and boss instances with 4-8 players is a genuinely exhilarating experience; the camaraderie I felt towards my fellow players as we crawled through the many instances in Heavensward brought me much closer to what I feel is the true nature of the game: there is a multiplayer in that MMO acronym somewhere, right? Having to participate effectively in your respective role while playing the game with the stakes of real people also investing their time with you amplifies the magic of the experience; running A Realm Reborn in 2022 with mostly NPCs seemed like the most straightforward one to me, except that the game's loop isn't designed around solo player experiences; if you want that, perhaps ought to play one of several dozen other Final Fantasy single player experiences.
Queue up with randos. Play with your buds. Don't play dungeons and instances with NPCs as much as possible; that's where the fun is, and where I hope it keeps going. It just took me outpacing the developers' attempts to make the game more single player friendly to embrace that.
Thanks for teaching me that finally, Heavensward.
Time to CLEAN HOUSE and end an age old war between man and dragon in a nation state that is conveniently NOT associated with any of the main 3 featured in A Realm Reborn and A Realm Reawoken.
Heavensward answers the question, "what can the FF XIV development team do if they're not trying to stretch their talents across establishing an entirely new game world of sorts," and the answer is one that I enjoyed a heck of a lot more than anything I experienced in the game that preceded it.
The new environments, characters, and general pacing of the Heavensward main quest are much improved to the point of nearly transcending the nature of its mundane quest structure and routine dungeon design. Much of the game is still walking from one person to the next to read text boxes, and while the writing is more focused and interesting, it still makes for a dry experience.
Heavensward's greatest strength lies in the fact that they haven't fully sunk the game into single player territory; the more multiplayer duties I found myself queuing up for, the more I found myself actively excited to play the game. Running dungeons and boss instances with 4-8 players is a genuinely exhilarating experience; the camaraderie I felt towards my fellow players as we crawled through the many instances in Heavensward brought me much closer to what I feel is the true nature of the game: there is a multiplayer in that MMO acronym somewhere, right? Having to participate effectively in your respective role while playing the game with the stakes of real people also investing their time with you amplifies the magic of the experience; running A Realm Reborn in 2022 with mostly NPCs seemed like the most straightforward one to me, except that the game's loop isn't designed around solo player experiences; if you want that, perhaps ought to play one of several dozen other Final Fantasy single player experiences.
Queue up with randos. Play with your buds. Don't play dungeons and instances with NPCs as much as possible; that's where the fun is, and where I hope it keeps going. It just took me outpacing the developers' attempts to make the game more single player friendly to embrace that.
Thanks for teaching me that finally, Heavensward.
2015
Two men, both condemned to exile due to circumstances beyond their control, must fight parallel battles to defend the world's they love. The ensuing chaos left in their wake will shake the future of the Tojo Clan and their beloved home city of Kamurocho forever.
Often pitched to me personally as a "great place to dip your toes in to them Yakuzas," this prequel, and what I can only assume is a soft reboot of the earliest games in the franchise, is joyful counterprogramming to just about everything else I've played in the last five years. Through 3D brawler gameplay, Yakuza 0 weaves a complex, serious fulfilling, deeply political and philosophical tale that largely ends up providing another concrete example of how humans are particularly bad at governing each other when scarce resources are involved. It is also incredibly silly, has a strong sense of humor that runs consistently through its core, and feels a genuine effort to use the medium of the video game to create a lived in space without banging you over the head with its realism (here's looking at you, Yu Suzuki.)
The gameplay is almost too densely layered with system rich activities to summarize easily. Over the course of 16 story chapters you trade off between our two protagonists, series stalwarts Kazuma Kiryu and Goro Majima as they
- go fishing
- stop bullies
- solve the problems of every man, woman, and child in their respective towns
- befriend certain people, including a really sad cop
- run a multi-billion yen generating real estate firm
- manage a cabaret style club
- eat at restaurants
- punch dudes that randomly attack you on the street
- play Sega arcade games
and the list could go on and on.
All of these activities are spread across a number of city blocks that make up the cities of Kamurocho and Sotenbori, which are these beautiful landscapes of neon lights and riverside scenery. They feel distinct and busy, which makes both of them perfect backdrops to a massive Yakuza war that, for the most part, goes completely unnoticed by the public at large unless it interrupts their shopping.
The game's combat follows the style of the brawler; you punch, kick, and throw dudes using 3 distinct styles of fighting; each character gets their own set of 3 styles, and you upgrade and expand your capabilities in each one by earning and then spending yen. It's great in that I found a set of moves that I could consistently rely upon and rode them all the way to the end credits with minimal irritation on normal difficulty. Hooray for routine!
All of this comes together to create what I can only declare is the deluxe edition of all of Japanese video games; it is absolutely stuffed to the brim with all of this delightful material that can be stretched as far as the player wants to take it; I clocked out at 41 hours with 31% completion of all of the game's optional content. I suspect many will put in two to three times as much time living in this world. It's excellence personified.
I am going to dock it one star however for only having 3 Sega arcade games. (That's not true. I'm docking it one star because some of the writing has aged a bit weirdly since 2015, and because you can just straight up ignore all of its systems if you want to and still find success in the main story. I don't need all of the systems to be mandatory, but at least like a FEW of them! I also just personally found the combat to become a chore quite quickly! So there you have it.)
Often pitched to me personally as a "great place to dip your toes in to them Yakuzas," this prequel, and what I can only assume is a soft reboot of the earliest games in the franchise, is joyful counterprogramming to just about everything else I've played in the last five years. Through 3D brawler gameplay, Yakuza 0 weaves a complex, serious fulfilling, deeply political and philosophical tale that largely ends up providing another concrete example of how humans are particularly bad at governing each other when scarce resources are involved. It is also incredibly silly, has a strong sense of humor that runs consistently through its core, and feels a genuine effort to use the medium of the video game to create a lived in space without banging you over the head with its realism (here's looking at you, Yu Suzuki.)
The gameplay is almost too densely layered with system rich activities to summarize easily. Over the course of 16 story chapters you trade off between our two protagonists, series stalwarts Kazuma Kiryu and Goro Majima as they
- go fishing
- stop bullies
- solve the problems of every man, woman, and child in their respective towns
- befriend certain people, including a really sad cop
- run a multi-billion yen generating real estate firm
- manage a cabaret style club
- eat at restaurants
- punch dudes that randomly attack you on the street
- play Sega arcade games
and the list could go on and on.
All of these activities are spread across a number of city blocks that make up the cities of Kamurocho and Sotenbori, which are these beautiful landscapes of neon lights and riverside scenery. They feel distinct and busy, which makes both of them perfect backdrops to a massive Yakuza war that, for the most part, goes completely unnoticed by the public at large unless it interrupts their shopping.
The game's combat follows the style of the brawler; you punch, kick, and throw dudes using 3 distinct styles of fighting; each character gets their own set of 3 styles, and you upgrade and expand your capabilities in each one by earning and then spending yen. It's great in that I found a set of moves that I could consistently rely upon and rode them all the way to the end credits with minimal irritation on normal difficulty. Hooray for routine!
All of this comes together to create what I can only declare is the deluxe edition of all of Japanese video games; it is absolutely stuffed to the brim with all of this delightful material that can be stretched as far as the player wants to take it; I clocked out at 41 hours with 31% completion of all of the game's optional content. I suspect many will put in two to three times as much time living in this world. It's excellence personified.
I am going to dock it one star however for only having 3 Sega arcade games. (That's not true. I'm docking it one star because some of the writing has aged a bit weirdly since 2015, and because you can just straight up ignore all of its systems if you want to and still find success in the main story. I don't need all of the systems to be mandatory, but at least like a FEW of them! I also just personally found the combat to become a chore quite quickly! So there you have it.)
2010
DJ Hero 2 makes DJ Hero look like a rough draft, much like Guitar Hero 2 made Guitar Hero before it.
It takes the fundamentals of DJ Hero and iterates on it in little ways, such as adding head to head battles and new gameplay elements such as held scratches and freestyle sections that allow you to crossfade and scratch your own style into the game's fresh set of song mixes. They don't change the base gameplay in huge ways, but make the game feel like the full realization of the rhythm game - Guitar Hero never fully approximated the feeling of playing a guitar, but freestyle crossfading, managing effects, and simulating scratches gets fairly close to what video games can do with rhythm games.
The big way that DJ Hero 2 betters itself is in its presentation; DJ Hero 2 actually has a usable menu interface, and a full career mode that iterates on the setlist driven single player campaign of the original game. This career mode, even though it amounts to little more than tasteful menus to choose set lists from, allows for a real sense of progression as you move through the various cities that the career sends you to on tour. Your stars are tracked as you move from venue to venue with visible progress presented to the player between each setlist. It makes a substantial difference in terms of game feel that makes it a tighter overall experience.
DJ Hero 2 also adds head to head DJ battles, which act as skills checks throughout the career mode; these are like Guitar Hero's Face Off mode, tasking you with defeating various DJs at their own game; mixes are broken up into checkpoints of various lengths. You compete for percentage of notes hit in each checkpoint; the DJ with the most checkpoints won at the end of the song wins the battle. It's a great way to shake up the structure of the gameplay. The expert difficulty battles are especially rewarding to master.
The game's setlist continues onwards from the work that DJ Hero started with a tasteful mix of rap, R&B, pop, and dance music that gets blended together into a series of truly beautiful music experiences. It feels a smidge more mainstream in its sensibilities than the original title, but resonated more deeply with me as a listener; only one DJ Hero has 50 Cent's In Da Club mixed with Lil Jon's Get Low. Cmon now.
At the end of the day, DJ Hero feels like a promise of greatness. DJ Hero 2 IS that greatness.
It takes the fundamentals of DJ Hero and iterates on it in little ways, such as adding head to head battles and new gameplay elements such as held scratches and freestyle sections that allow you to crossfade and scratch your own style into the game's fresh set of song mixes. They don't change the base gameplay in huge ways, but make the game feel like the full realization of the rhythm game - Guitar Hero never fully approximated the feeling of playing a guitar, but freestyle crossfading, managing effects, and simulating scratches gets fairly close to what video games can do with rhythm games.
The big way that DJ Hero 2 betters itself is in its presentation; DJ Hero 2 actually has a usable menu interface, and a full career mode that iterates on the setlist driven single player campaign of the original game. This career mode, even though it amounts to little more than tasteful menus to choose set lists from, allows for a real sense of progression as you move through the various cities that the career sends you to on tour. Your stars are tracked as you move from venue to venue with visible progress presented to the player between each setlist. It makes a substantial difference in terms of game feel that makes it a tighter overall experience.
DJ Hero 2 also adds head to head DJ battles, which act as skills checks throughout the career mode; these are like Guitar Hero's Face Off mode, tasking you with defeating various DJs at their own game; mixes are broken up into checkpoints of various lengths. You compete for percentage of notes hit in each checkpoint; the DJ with the most checkpoints won at the end of the song wins the battle. It's a great way to shake up the structure of the gameplay. The expert difficulty battles are especially rewarding to master.
The game's setlist continues onwards from the work that DJ Hero started with a tasteful mix of rap, R&B, pop, and dance music that gets blended together into a series of truly beautiful music experiences. It feels a smidge more mainstream in its sensibilities than the original title, but resonated more deeply with me as a listener; only one DJ Hero has 50 Cent's In Da Club mixed with Lil Jon's Get Low. Cmon now.
At the end of the day, DJ Hero feels like a promise of greatness. DJ Hero 2 IS that greatness.
2009
I was 14 years in 2009 when DJ Hero came out. Jobless, I was unable to convince my parents to spring any additional money on plastic instruments - at this point we had 2 guitar hero controllers and a mic and for my house that was most certainly enough. I read about DJ Hero in passing in magazines and online, but having been given a firm "nah," I was forced to watch as it came and went. This was a year of continued Rock Band 2 and Guitar Hero World Tour investment.
I can now, having replayed the entire campaign on expert in 2022 after playing through it once with a used DJ Hero turntable in 2014 or so, admit that if I had played DJ Hero in 2009 that I would not have had a metal phase in 9th grade; I would have had a far more diverse, more interesting pop, r&b, and hip hop phase that would have catapulted me out of my father's rock oriented music tastes into the stratosphere.
DJ Hero is the best Western rhythm of the 7th generation console era. This is only true because Guitar Hero, and its peer Rock Band, are firmly grounded in the foundations laid in Guitar Hero 1 and 2, which are distinctly Playstation 2 games. And DJ Hero isn't even the best DJ Hero game, but its a burst of creativity and ingenuity that should have revitalized an overstuffed rhythm game genre on these consoles; it came just a bit too late....and the rest is history.
DJ Hero is a peripheral based rhythm game that comes bundled with a study plastic turntable controller that has 3 buttons on the turntable platter, a crossfader switch, an effects knob, and a big button for activating a mechanic known as euphoria that glows bright red when you've successfully acquired said euphoria.
To play the game, you use the turntable controller to hit buttons in time with the track scrolling down your screen as a crowd cheers and dances in a full motion video played behind you in the background. You must hit the corresponding button and move the turn table deck up and down to simulate record scratching, and use the crossfader switch to move to the left or right as the track dictates, which switches you from one song to the other in the game's mixes. If you rack up a combo of 50 or more, you are rewarded with a rewind that requires you to physically spin the turntable deck backwards and play sections again for double points. On occasion the prompts coming down the track glow bright white - hit the full section of these successfully to gain Euphoria, which doubles your points and automatically crossfades for you. You must combine rewinds, euphoria phases, and pure skill to score as many points as possible.
The learning curve here is steep - holding the turntable isn't nearly as intuitive as holding the plastic guitar, and difficulties up through hard mode don't care which direction you scratch the turn table in when asked to scratch during mixes; Expert difficulty however does, which smacks you clean in the face if you're not prepared for it. It feels as if Expert difficulty is an entirely separate game because of this; it asks an incredible amount of you. Mastering it, or at least becoming half way decent at it as I have, is a pretty satisfying experience. It's a fascinating evolution of the guitar hero experience that is just different enough to feel completely fresh. I love it dearly.
DJ Hero's mixes are diverse, and large in number with plenty of incredible combinations of dance, pop, hip hop, rock, and r&b tracks tossed in to provide something for everyone. Each mix is, to my ears, incredibly interesting and highly engaging - I'm not a music critic. Music sound good, me like. You feel me?
My only real critique of this immaculate rhythm game is that its interface is essentially nonexistent. There's story campaign....just a big list of mixes to play through. It's very minimalist. Play songs. Unlock more songs. Play more songs. Sometimes that's all you need, though in 2022 it feels a little sparse.
Beyond that? DJ Hero dude. What a gosh darn game.
I can now, having replayed the entire campaign on expert in 2022 after playing through it once with a used DJ Hero turntable in 2014 or so, admit that if I had played DJ Hero in 2009 that I would not have had a metal phase in 9th grade; I would have had a far more diverse, more interesting pop, r&b, and hip hop phase that would have catapulted me out of my father's rock oriented music tastes into the stratosphere.
DJ Hero is the best Western rhythm of the 7th generation console era. This is only true because Guitar Hero, and its peer Rock Band, are firmly grounded in the foundations laid in Guitar Hero 1 and 2, which are distinctly Playstation 2 games. And DJ Hero isn't even the best DJ Hero game, but its a burst of creativity and ingenuity that should have revitalized an overstuffed rhythm game genre on these consoles; it came just a bit too late....and the rest is history.
DJ Hero is a peripheral based rhythm game that comes bundled with a study plastic turntable controller that has 3 buttons on the turntable platter, a crossfader switch, an effects knob, and a big button for activating a mechanic known as euphoria that glows bright red when you've successfully acquired said euphoria.
To play the game, you use the turntable controller to hit buttons in time with the track scrolling down your screen as a crowd cheers and dances in a full motion video played behind you in the background. You must hit the corresponding button and move the turn table deck up and down to simulate record scratching, and use the crossfader switch to move to the left or right as the track dictates, which switches you from one song to the other in the game's mixes. If you rack up a combo of 50 or more, you are rewarded with a rewind that requires you to physically spin the turntable deck backwards and play sections again for double points. On occasion the prompts coming down the track glow bright white - hit the full section of these successfully to gain Euphoria, which doubles your points and automatically crossfades for you. You must combine rewinds, euphoria phases, and pure skill to score as many points as possible.
The learning curve here is steep - holding the turntable isn't nearly as intuitive as holding the plastic guitar, and difficulties up through hard mode don't care which direction you scratch the turn table in when asked to scratch during mixes; Expert difficulty however does, which smacks you clean in the face if you're not prepared for it. It feels as if Expert difficulty is an entirely separate game because of this; it asks an incredible amount of you. Mastering it, or at least becoming half way decent at it as I have, is a pretty satisfying experience. It's a fascinating evolution of the guitar hero experience that is just different enough to feel completely fresh. I love it dearly.
DJ Hero's mixes are diverse, and large in number with plenty of incredible combinations of dance, pop, hip hop, rock, and r&b tracks tossed in to provide something for everyone. Each mix is, to my ears, incredibly interesting and highly engaging - I'm not a music critic. Music sound good, me like. You feel me?
My only real critique of this immaculate rhythm game is that its interface is essentially nonexistent. There's story campaign....just a big list of mixes to play through. It's very minimalist. Play songs. Unlock more songs. Play more songs. Sometimes that's all you need, though in 2022 it feels a little sparse.
Beyond that? DJ Hero dude. What a gosh darn game.
2012
The Forza Horizon series blasts off in the twilight hours of the Xbox 360's life time, creating a trend of alternating Forza releases that loosely continues to this day.
Starting up Forza Horizon after playing dozens of hours of 4 and 5 on the Xbox One X and Series X consoles feels like stepping back into the past - the 30fps frame rate and clean 720p imagery make it feel very 2012. Controls are a little less responsive due to the lower frame rate, and everything from car movement and track design feels like it maximizes the hardware's capabilities. It's a little bit more Burnout Paradise in its open world design than later Xbox One era titles, but the restrictions help focus the experience. Its minimalism comes as a benefit, with Horizon being incredibly straightforward compared to its gargantuan successors. There's a lot to be said about good, clean racing on well designed tracks.
The structure also massively benefits from its milder ambitions - earning points by winning races in order to unlock new races just feels so much more grounded in this game than it does in later titles. You're allowed to set your own progression pace - later Forza Horizon titles flop new races onto you all the time after finishing current ones automatically, obscuring your sense of progress on the map. This game allows you to earn points and trigger the addition of new races at your leisure, which makes it feel all the more flexible in its relationship with you.
It's an incredible game to revisit or play for the first time at any time. Truly an exceptional work of craftsmanship.
Starting up Forza Horizon after playing dozens of hours of 4 and 5 on the Xbox One X and Series X consoles feels like stepping back into the past - the 30fps frame rate and clean 720p imagery make it feel very 2012. Controls are a little less responsive due to the lower frame rate, and everything from car movement and track design feels like it maximizes the hardware's capabilities. It's a little bit more Burnout Paradise in its open world design than later Xbox One era titles, but the restrictions help focus the experience. Its minimalism comes as a benefit, with Horizon being incredibly straightforward compared to its gargantuan successors. There's a lot to be said about good, clean racing on well designed tracks.
The structure also massively benefits from its milder ambitions - earning points by winning races in order to unlock new races just feels so much more grounded in this game than it does in later titles. You're allowed to set your own progression pace - later Forza Horizon titles flop new races onto you all the time after finishing current ones automatically, obscuring your sense of progress on the map. This game allows you to earn points and trigger the addition of new races at your leisure, which makes it feel all the more flexible in its relationship with you.
It's an incredible game to revisit or play for the first time at any time. Truly an exceptional work of craftsmanship.
2012
A mysterious boy with horns is sealed away within a statue. An equally mysterious set of circumstances sets him free, allowing him to cross paths with a girl. Neither speaks the same language, but both have the same goal: escape this weird realm they've been trapped in.
Over the course of 7 or so hours, you navigate the various puzzles that stand between you and your respective freedoms together. You run, jump, climb, and pull on everything that moves to ensure that you and your mystical lady friend make it to safety together. A simple tap of the R1 button brings her to wherever you require. She will NOT climb chains though. Such is life.
Playing it for the first time in 2022 is such an interesting experience - its impact has been rippling throughout all of game design since its initial release in so many ways that I've never lived without its legacy even without playing it. Some aspects of it have aged poorly - its combat feels less than stellar and a few jumping puzzles are mind-bogglingly difficult, but it isn't enough to tarnish the impact of such a beautiful experience.
The PS3 presentation is stellar, presenting the game in 1080p at a mostly locked 30 frames per second. It feels definitive. This game in general just feels like a definitive work of its own, beyond reproach.
Over the course of 7 or so hours, you navigate the various puzzles that stand between you and your respective freedoms together. You run, jump, climb, and pull on everything that moves to ensure that you and your mystical lady friend make it to safety together. A simple tap of the R1 button brings her to wherever you require. She will NOT climb chains though. Such is life.
Playing it for the first time in 2022 is such an interesting experience - its impact has been rippling throughout all of game design since its initial release in so many ways that I've never lived without its legacy even without playing it. Some aspects of it have aged poorly - its combat feels less than stellar and a few jumping puzzles are mind-bogglingly difficult, but it isn't enough to tarnish the impact of such a beautiful experience.
The PS3 presentation is stellar, presenting the game in 1080p at a mostly locked 30 frames per second. It feels definitive. This game in general just feels like a definitive work of its own, beyond reproach.
Final Fantasy XIV's A Realm Reborn campaign is a big, bland blanket that you wrap yourself in before a cold winter approaches. It accomplishes the incredible task of rebuilding Final Fantasy XIV's world at the expense of making itself interesting to play through.
Much of my 45 hours in A Realm Reborn's campaign was spent teleporting around the realm, talking to people, killing a few monsters, and then returning to rinse and repeat. Some of the dungeons are pretty okay, but none are truly remarkable. You can tell this was tossed together in a few years to scramble towards greatness.
I still finished it though, so take that as you will. It's chill, but not much more. Onwards to the post-game patch content and then to its first expansion pack, HEAVENSWARD!!!!
Much of my 45 hours in A Realm Reborn's campaign was spent teleporting around the realm, talking to people, killing a few monsters, and then returning to rinse and repeat. Some of the dungeons are pretty okay, but none are truly remarkable. You can tell this was tossed together in a few years to scramble towards greatness.
I still finished it though, so take that as you will. It's chill, but not much more. Onwards to the post-game patch content and then to its first expansion pack, HEAVENSWARD!!!!
Bottom line: What was once a new lap record feels more like a 4th place finish in 2022.
Is there anything more thrilling than crossing a finish line, boost fully engaged, at 1000 miles per hour?
What if I told you that, if you were the fastest to ever do it, that most intense and excited voice in the world would congratulate you with a brazen "IT'S A NEW LAP RECORD!!!"
Who could possibly resist such a temptation?
Star Wars: Episode 1 - Racer, shortened to Star Wars Racer for its modern platform rerelease, is perhaps one of the few good things to come out of the Episode 1 marketing blitz that Lucasfilm dragged well regarded development studio Lucasarts down in the late 90s. Based on the 2nd act finale sequence of The Phantom Menace in which Anakin Skywalker races to gain his and his new friends' freedom from the heat of Tatooine, Racer is a tight, light, and fast as heck arcade racing game that is as fun to play as it is visually ugly.
The gameplay loop is simple: pick a podracer from a limited roster based off of characters designed for the source film, win races set on a limited series of planets to earn credits, spend these credits on better parts for your pod racer, and then keep winning till the credits roll. The main bulk of the game is contained within 3 circuits of 7 races each, with an additional 4 challenge races contained in an "invitational circuit," meant to be completed after you've bested the challenge of the main game. The races and AI opponent AI naturally improve as you progress from the first race to the very last, though upgrades and a mastery of the unique game elements such as engaging your pod's boost and self-repair capabilities often make even the toughest of races trivial, assuming you know when to apply that air break properly.
The game can easily be finished in a few hours with some practice, and later races can often a thrilling example of what allowing for extreme speed can do to a properly tuned racing title. Some of the tracks are a bit long, with some clocking in at nearly 4 minutes with a good lap time behind them. More visually interesting games can get away with it, but Racer's Nintendo 64 limited, hastily thrown together art design makes for an often irritating, bland experience as you race with a vengeance through each course.
As far as licensed games go, its a limited, but interesting experience that has ample room for thrilling competition and skill mastery, but even with 25 tracks it feels shallow and as it ends, it feels like it was never really there. My bird brain dictates that I worship my childhood memories of playing 4 player LAN with my family as a young child, as well as playing through the excellent Dreamcast port in the mid 2000s, but this game is not a feast, but a nice snack.
Also, the modern port's audio is completely busted. Playing it through my well calibrated 5.1 setup produces effects in one speaker and the looped, low quality John Williams music in another. It is QUITE jarring. Toggling a mono mixdown of the two channels solved the issue, but having to get up and mess with receiver settings is a drag.
Is there anything more thrilling than crossing a finish line, boost fully engaged, at 1000 miles per hour?
What if I told you that, if you were the fastest to ever do it, that most intense and excited voice in the world would congratulate you with a brazen "IT'S A NEW LAP RECORD!!!"
Who could possibly resist such a temptation?
Star Wars: Episode 1 - Racer, shortened to Star Wars Racer for its modern platform rerelease, is perhaps one of the few good things to come out of the Episode 1 marketing blitz that Lucasfilm dragged well regarded development studio Lucasarts down in the late 90s. Based on the 2nd act finale sequence of The Phantom Menace in which Anakin Skywalker races to gain his and his new friends' freedom from the heat of Tatooine, Racer is a tight, light, and fast as heck arcade racing game that is as fun to play as it is visually ugly.
The gameplay loop is simple: pick a podracer from a limited roster based off of characters designed for the source film, win races set on a limited series of planets to earn credits, spend these credits on better parts for your pod racer, and then keep winning till the credits roll. The main bulk of the game is contained within 3 circuits of 7 races each, with an additional 4 challenge races contained in an "invitational circuit," meant to be completed after you've bested the challenge of the main game. The races and AI opponent AI naturally improve as you progress from the first race to the very last, though upgrades and a mastery of the unique game elements such as engaging your pod's boost and self-repair capabilities often make even the toughest of races trivial, assuming you know when to apply that air break properly.
The game can easily be finished in a few hours with some practice, and later races can often a thrilling example of what allowing for extreme speed can do to a properly tuned racing title. Some of the tracks are a bit long, with some clocking in at nearly 4 minutes with a good lap time behind them. More visually interesting games can get away with it, but Racer's Nintendo 64 limited, hastily thrown together art design makes for an often irritating, bland experience as you race with a vengeance through each course.
As far as licensed games go, its a limited, but interesting experience that has ample room for thrilling competition and skill mastery, but even with 25 tracks it feels shallow and as it ends, it feels like it was never really there. My bird brain dictates that I worship my childhood memories of playing 4 player LAN with my family as a young child, as well as playing through the excellent Dreamcast port in the mid 2000s, but this game is not a feast, but a nice snack.
Also, the modern port's audio is completely busted. Playing it through my well calibrated 5.1 setup produces effects in one speaker and the looped, low quality John Williams music in another. It is QUITE jarring. Toggling a mono mixdown of the two channels solved the issue, but having to get up and mess with receiver settings is a drag.