Yearly End Thing

The plan is to make this short and sweet, but I can't do so without first acknowledging my downward trend has at long last been overturned. 25 games completed; up from a miserable 11. I'll take it. And with that, I can return to the web-wide cliché of ten for my year end listing. Huzzah!

10. Sorcery
-An impressive little gem from the Amstrad CPC that has decided to rebel against all known door/key logic. *Shakes fist in a fit of fury*

9. F-Zero
-A classic and absolute must own for any game enthusiast. With perhaps the exception of Super Mario Kart, F-Zero is the definitive racing game of the SNES, and quite possibly the whole 16-bit era.

8. Destruction Derby 2
-From one racing game to another, the Destruction Derby series rewrote the rules when it came to automobile mayhem and Destruction Derby 2 refined that chaos into pure beauty. Bumping and grinding now resulted in dire consequences, or often is the case here: wrecking points.

7. Max: The Curse of Brotherhood
-I found out a predecessor existed for this game on Wii Ware just yesterday called Max and the Magic Marker. The Curse of Brotherhood suddenly makes so much more sense to me now.

6. Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins
-Similar to Link's Awakening offering more Link to the Past styled goodness, SML2 offered more SMW styled goodness for those of us who wanted it - at least more so than Yoshi's Island or Super Mario 64 ever dared to.

5. Sonic the Hedgehog 2
-If I need to explain myself, I feel sorry for you, the reader. If anything, I should be explaining why it isn't higher than 5th, but I played a bevy of great games this year.

4. Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island
-What's always amazed me about this game is the sheer leap in platforming dynamics from Super Mario World to this. Too bad Yoshi played protagonist, but fortunately it all worked out in the end. Although, it would have worked even better if the game was simply titled, Yoshi's Island without the nod to SMW. Meh.

3.Baldur' s Gate: Dark Alliance II
-I finished this in 2014? Sheesh... It feels as though years have passed since I knocked this out. However, my memories of the game are nothing but hack n' slash goodness; so much so that I'm damn near tempted to play it again.

2. Dust: An Elysian Tail
-Every now and then, a game comes along and changes my perception on a given genre. Much like the Touhou series taught me the joys of STGs, Dust taught me that Metroidvania games are actually pretty damn enjoyable when done right.

1. Guacamelee! Super Turbo Championship Edition
-Another indie title takes top spot. Should it be any surprise by now? Guacamelee is pure platforming bliss with the perfect dose of aggravating difficulty. ¡Olé!

SNES - Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island

Haiku-Review:

stars, coins, and flowers:
mustn't forget to keep tabs
damn! I missed a coin!

Additional Comments:

A novel post for several reason I suspect. Recollections of my post on Super Mario World, I found myself troubled over where to go considering the Mario timeline was completely blown open at this point. Yoshi's Island claims to be representative of the Super Mario World nomenclature, which in turn claims to be the Super Mario Bros. named follow-up if the beta and Japanese variants are to be trusted. So does that make Yoshi's Island Super Mario Bros. 5? Hmm... But then, the protagonist is that stupid horse introduced in the first "World" title and all his multicolored friends. Bleagh. A more appropriate follow up would surely be Super Mario 64...but wait! I don't care what anyone says or believes; I'll be damned if I ever consent to that 3-D "revolution" bullshit to dare ingratiate itself as a proper Mario platformer alongside 2-D Mario royalty. However, canon-wise, it's far more fitting than the tale of wee little Mario and the stork, or how Kamek nearly shattered the Mario family before they even had a chance to be.

As an interesting aside, at long last we are given a quick and interesting glimpse into the history of the Marios. And here I always thought the Mario brothers originally hail from Brooklyn, New York only to be whisked away to the fantasy realm of sentient fungi, yet it seems in childhood they lived in the Mushroom Kingdom. So...at some point they were inadvertently transported to the Big Apple only to eventually be swept back into the furor of their so-called old country? It's all a sizable pill to swallow, but ok, sure. Why not? And as an additional aside, I've always found it odd that they're the Mario brothers yet Mario's name is Mario which means his name is Mario Mario? Again, why not?

Point is, even while side-stepping typical Mario fare, Yoshi's Island won the opportunity to continue what should now be dubbed, Christmas with the Plumbers - or in this case, Plumbers-to-be. Despite it's obvious departure in format, it's clearly labeled as Super Mario World 2, although Nintendo did pull the same idiotic name format with Super Mario Land 3: Wario Land only to continue the series as the Wario Land series. But I digress, Additionally, Yoshi's Island can be considered a bit of a hallmark post as it's the first game to be examined twice here on Beat All Games; briefly critiqued by Sven a few years back. I wouldn't consider it a trend, however, as I doubt I'll venture into any of the other games he remarked upon during his tenure here.

Yoshi's Island, to me, stirs up memories of Zelda II. Clearly these are games that belong in their respective franchises, however having deviated so much from the known format, it feels off-putting to consider it as such when rating them as failures or successes. Instead, their achievements have to be carefully weighed within their respective genre. Following proper canon and abiding by the expected is clearly thrown out the window. Yoshi's Island, however, rewrote the book on 2-D Mario preconceptions. If anything, it's a spin-off. That's the simplest way of describing the game. Mario takes a backseat while his old, but new, er...unknown dinosaur pal takes the spotlight.

When I first learned of Yoshi's Island - another game that cleverly eluded my knowledge of the SNES library for so many years - I was floored just knowing its existence was a thing, My jubilation over the matter was unmatched. If memory serves, I got the game, along with several others, when I picked up a replacement Super Nintendo - something Sven and I have joked about over the years as I essentially bought it from a friend in exchange for breakfast. Now that's a sweet deal! Other than Mario Kart, which also came in the video game-breakfast trade, Yoshi's Island was the first game I threw in. Besides the relief and joy of finally clicking over the power button on an SNES again - something I hadn't enjoyed for several years since my previous one bit the dust - I was filled with ecstatic mysterious waiting to behold the sequel to Super Mario World.

What is this? I don't even..... Super Mario World 2 my ass!

Sure, there's Yoshi and Shy Guys (a welcomed resurrection from another questionable Mario title) and Magikoopas...oop! I mean Kamek. But good god, this is less Mario than Super Mario 2 was Mario, and that game was a clear detraction of canon. Waves of disappointment swept over me as I had to accept that Super Mario World would never see a true sequel outside of Super Mario 64. Ugh. Except, something funny happened. I realized, while misrepresenting its predecessors, Yoshi's Island was a brilliant platformer - possibly the best platformer on the Super Nintendo. Without a doubt, it's one of the most technically advanced games on the Super Nintendo, but the platforming mechanics are nearly unsurpassed, and that's including some of the stupid moves peculiarly inherited by the local fauna like that goddamn flutter jump that's since become a staple move of Mario's reptilian friend. It serves it's purpose, be it here, Super Smash Bros., or elsewhere, but boy do I hate it.

This explains the common bond between Yoshi's Island and Zelda II. They're both games that seemingly failed within their respective franchise, but succeeded with flying colors as something unique to their respective genres as a whole. Looking back at Sven's post, his initial experience appeared to parallel mine. There's a certain expectation that comes with a name, especially a name that had a solid foundation in four games; five if you include the original Japanese Super Mario Bros. 2. To take such incredible liberties with the name is almost blasphemous and I'm certain many other gamers befell the same disillusionment as Sven and I. If the game was solely called Yoshi's Island, I doubt I'd have even raised an eyebrow. It would be clearly defined as an unique platforming title that shares similarities with a popular franchise. Such a move was taken with games like Mario is Missing or Mario's Time Machine so why not here as well? Perhaps Nintendo didn't want consumers to be confused by associating an obvious spin-off title as crap considering the other Mario spin-offs. In that case, I'll consider it marketing brilliance.

Taking a step back, Yoshi's Island nailed it. I may be playing a weak Mario game, but boy howdy, I'm experiencing platforming excellence. Some of the design gadgetry is simply mouth watering, especially some of the enormous layer three shenanigans. However, there are some glaring issues that have proved their annoyance tenfold time and time again. The largest drag affecting my gaming bliss is baby Mario's grating cries for help. I like the premise of why it's there, or at least I'd like to pretend I do, but why is it so fucking loud? The sense of alarm is appreciated, but his sharp, almost caustic bawling detracts all immediate focus to which I usually start fumbling around like the village idiot out of frightened anxiety. Just tone it down. But he's a baby in distress and high end decibels are to be expected. Except it's a game and a certain breakdown of convention is to also be expected.

The next little chigger in my pants is the collection mechanic. I enjoy a good collection mechanic when properly used and there's an obvious investment in collection appreciation. Banjo-Kazooie comes to mind - what I consider one of the best collection-based games. Somehow, I feel, Yoshi's Island relied on the mechanic a little too heavily, even if it's wholly optional. Looking at other Mario titles, for platforming perspective, Super Mario World has five Yoshi Coins or the NSMB series has three star coins in each level. As a result, you never feel like the collection aspect is overpowering the beauty of engaging platforming. Not saying that Yoshi's Island should only have three red coins, but at times, twenty felt too overwhelming. However, the argument can be made that Yoshi's Island is meant to be enjoyed as a 2-D exploration adventure as opposed to a straightforward point A-to-point B adventure, and that's true. Only, it becomes muddled at times and you start to lose focus on why you should be enjoying the game. I think the real root of my issue is the thirty stars since they blur the lines of the collection mechanic. A dynamic collectible, which additionally operates as a health timer, feels horribly wrong. I can easily accept five flowers and twenty red coins and the overall essence of exploration over a run-and-gun mentality but why am I having to ensure what's essentially a health bar be maximized by level's end? It's a lot of mixed signals.

And finally, the inconsistencies with collision boxes bothers me at time. Although, I'll admit that when I first played the game years ago, I doubt I ever took notice of the disparity throughout. Instead, this is a recent complaint that reared its head after taking a crack at YI hacking for a collab hack over at SMWC - which, by the way, is the real reason Yoshi's Island was gifted my holiday post over titles like SM64 or SMB2j. As I became more intimate with the game on a technical level as opposed to a casual level, I became more aware of strange anomalies throughout. I was immediately perturbed by the various oddities among hitboxes, especially the monkeys. Monkey hitboxes are pure anarchy. So, I can't be hurt, but Mario can be nabbed, but wait...the swinging monkeys can hurt me, but I can't swallow them, that is unless I break them apart by being hurt at which point they'll no longer hurt me. Make up your mind you stupid monkeys!

Grievances aside,I doubt there's anything that can make me reconsider my standing on the game. A Mario game it is not, as I've stated multiple times already. However, it's one of the greatest platformers out there and it's a shame the game wasn't heavily pushed when it came out. Like I said, I had no idea such a game existed till years later.

The greatest improvement in Yoshi's Island, if we are to consider it a sequel to SMW, is the boss fights. Twelve unique battles - thirteen if you count both phases of Bowser - and they're all fantastic. Unlike SMW's, which after all these years feel uninspired, YI's bosses have a real sense of purpose and imagination. There's a reason why they behave in such a way, why they're subject to their specific weaknesses, and why their methods of defeat are not the same across the board. There's ingenuity in each boss, and each one offers the player to exploit a unique mechanic of either Yoshi or the game itself instead of simply relying on pounding their adversaries' heads into the ground, or in Yoshi's case, tossing eggs at every living thing. My personal favorite battle has always been Raphael the Raven's. Eh, let me reword that. I've never really enjoyed the actual play of the battle, but the premise and mechanics of the entire sequence is just magical. The same could be said for Bowser's second phase. I don't particularly enjoy playing it, but the whole concept of the battle is fantastic and it comes across as Nintendo pulling out all the stops - from the scenery, to the music, to the battle itself. It all comes together and forms the perfect, epic, end-all beat-all extravaganza.

So what of the music elsewhere in the game? I love the music in the game. It's lighthearted and joyous except when it needs to emote mood or tension, which it does so with flying colors. My personal favorite is Ending, although Room Before Boss, Athletic, and Yoshi's Island are all close contenders. There's just something about that end theme though - a certain quaint relief with a hint of sentimentality that's unfortunately poorly expressed in most of the sappier game music out there. Can only pin that down to the sheer captivation of Kondo's musical prowess.

Nano-Rant:

Sven wasn't kidding. World 2's extra level is balls hard. What's weird though is that it's the most difficult of the six extra levels. Heck, Extra 6 was a walk in the park compared to Extra 2. The amount of deaths suffered in Extra 2 were greater than the entire rest of the game combined and that's before trying to 100% the son of a bitch. The slightest hesitation between the jump-duck section of the rail spelled doom; maybe not immediately, but by the next switch - hello infinite emptiness below! Also, it wasn't until after I finished the game completely and went back and watched a video of the level that I realized there's a pipe to the left of the start. What bullshit is that!? I was so pissed the first time I managed to get all the red coins and flowers only to find out I had completely forgotten about stars. Stars? Where the hell do you get stars in this near-kaizo atrocity? I honestly believed you had to rely on bonus star items in this level which I felt was an additional slap in the face just because, why not? The frustration I felt during the course of the level was high enough, but barely matched the unquenchable rage that coursed through my veins when I learned there was a secret room after the fact. Fuck you, Extra 2!!!

Rating: 5 non-Italian "Italian" plumbers out of 5

ARC - Saint Dragon

Haiku-Review:

steel dragon in space,
unleashes a bullet spread
and fights congestion

Additional Comments:

I've been wanting to hit up another arcade game for some time but always found my attention drawn elsewhere, or simply never found a title that excited me. Maybe apathy just got the better of me every time I'd dare a venture in arcade territory. I love arcade games, but at the same time I feel like there's a certain air of condescension surrounding them - kind of like PC games. PC games are for the "true" gamers, arcade games are, or were, for the "hardcore" gamers, and us console gamers, well, we're just the unwanted runts on the family tree - the huddled masses, if you will. As such, I always feel like I'm wading out into the forbidden zone or like I need to successfully pass through some ridiculous hazing before I can accept the pure gaming bliss of the arcade menagerie. But then, once I buckle down and play one of these arrogant pricks, I question why I originally believed my will crumbled under the might of cabinetry, even if it's emulated cabinetry.

To date, including Saint Dragon, I've only completed four arcade titles for Beat All Games, however, I've yet to be proven the might of these titles, albeit I will concede that a majority of my arcade experiences are not for the faint of heart, especially Saint Dragon. Since my love for STGs has blossomed, I've played some ungodly difficult games. What is it about shmups and hardcore action that goes so easily hand in hand. When it comes to difficulty, Saint Dragon is no slouch. The first half of the game is more than doable, though the bosses up the ante a bit, but the second half of the game comes out swinging. But they seem to come out swinging with a suitcase full of dirty tricks - looking at you level six.

Before I berate level six's close quarter's claustrophobic action, let me see if I can scale up to the issue targeting several key areas along the way. Upon diving into the game headfirst, that is after diving headfirst into the dizzying options and help logs surrounding MAME since it's been a couple years since I've used it and I've forgotten a number of ins and outs concerning the emulator, I found Saint Dragon surprisingly...easy. In fact, the first level seemed sickeningly easy. What's the catch? For being labeled as a tough as nails shmup, based on my minimal internet research, something felt off. Even after I inadvertently smacked the ground, thus killing myself, or foolishly ran headlong into a stray bullet, I was shocked by the good graces of the game to dump me further afield. Seriously, I don't have to start from the beginning again and I get to keep all my weapons. Are you kidding me - even continuing after a loss of credit I get to reap the fortunes of such generosity? Challenge averted it seems. Oh, how naïve could I be?

I was quickly put in in my place as I studied the first boss's movements, as I awkwardly suffered a thousand deaths. The fear further intensified as I struggled to understand the third level's boss, or lack thereof. As I've stated before (ahem, Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance anyone?), long corridors of calm relaxation following heart pounding action always creates an eerie unease. But wait.... Was that..? Is that..? Was that the boss? That's a rather odd turn of events, especially after level two's boss which stood up against an incredible volley of firepower. Sadly, no. I've read there is a boss to level three, but for reasons unknown, he can be coerced into not triggering. Um, ok. Just because he chickened out, it's not my problem. Too bad some of the latter jerk-offs didn't feel like taking a holiday as well.

Of all the levels, four stuck out as an anomaly, playing rebel to typical theory regarding casual difficulty flow. It was strangely unbalanced placing extreme emphasis on the level while half-assing the boss, to the point where I genuinely questioned whether the boss was indeed the boss or not. However, given level three's mysterious, boss-less run through a pride of laser-emitting tram cars, hunkering behind a blockade of damn near invulnerable space junkards seemed like nothing more than another aloof boss replacement. This hypothesis was further reinforced by how little room was left for proper maneuverability as well as the sheer amount of time spent navigating around those insufferable behemoths. After fighting tooth and nail through wave after wave of enemy fire while being constricted to such tight quarters, I was shocked to see a proper boss appear. Seriously, the end gauntlet was equal to any other level in length easily, or perhaps it only seemed so considering how many theoretical quarters I had to feed the machine to finally get through the area. But then, the boss was such a pushover. What the hell!? Considering the atrocities I faced just getting there, I suppose I should only feel an overwhelming sense of alleviation, but come on.

Level five fell into a similar trap - a level, while certainly unique, pushed the player through some seriously tough areas but then fell short when it came to the boss. However, I will admit that most of level five's difficulty may have been artificially created since I couldn't enjoy the game using a true arcade style joystick. I only bring this up because the key specialty weapon for level five can be aimed using the main directional controls, which is great, but I feel comes off a little spongy using a simple d-pad on my usb controller. Ah well.

And with that, we come full circle to Saint Dragon's final level - a balls hard trek through space age Armageddon. What really grates my nerves about this level is the various walls you need to shoot your way through in order to advance. Unless you're packed with an appropriate special weapon, which isn't exactly difficult to bungle, the task is nothing more than a study in futility. Unfortunately, unless you purposefully go out of your way to avoid the special weapon that can be manually aimed, you're in no better shape when it comes to necessary demolition. Trying to avoid all of the extraneous homing missiles invariable leads to meticulous maneuvers that will reroute all of your desired aiming - i.e. I found myself performing embarrassing face plants more than anything. One particular grouping of walls proved to be the most diabolical area in the whole game where I may have easily lodged over a hundred deaths, and I swear, obtaining that stupid ass special weapon which was placed ever so conveniently right in the fucking way caused more deaths than anything. With the close proximity of each door to each other, I knew I was finished if my good old reliable fire breath was suddenly repudiated by supposedly superior weaponry. Fuck it! Throw in a few hundred more theoretical quarters. What's the harm. Thankfully it no longer impacts my wallet like it would have back in the golden age of arcades. Truth be told, I would have just walked away and instead fed my small bounty of coins on either Virtua Racing or Turtles in Time.

Still, Saint Dragon was a fun little side-scrolling STG - when I wasn't pulling my hair out over ridiculously unfair areas that is. But for the most part, the heinous difficulty is part of the fun, and for the most part I enjoyed it. In all honesty, the final level is the only level I probably could have done without. I had the same thoughts about the final boss at first, but once I got past his initial pattern, I really have no problems with him...er, it? Not sure.Whatever the case, it suffered from some of the same claustrophobia that most, if not all, of the final level suffered from, but only for the first few seconds of battle. Again, far too many projectiles with little to no room to hide. I suppose it's the final boss, but still, that's no reason for potential leniency. There's a distinct difference between difficult but fair and difficult and unfair. Cramped spaces and maximum firepower unfortunately leans on the latter.

And finally, for good measure, some music. I didn't find the soundtrack memorable, and this particular example: Metal Planet, can attest to that. If it wasn't for the fact that the video reads Saint Dragon (Arcade), I'd never guess this theme was in the game, despite playing through the final third of the first level multiple times because I kept dying on the boss. Unmemorable music is unmemorable, but then, shooters have always had an uncanny ability to mask a lot of the background music with an incredible sound explosion of incessant firepower.

Nano-Rant:

Why is the auto-fire so unbearably slow? Considering how glacial the auto-fire is, one has to question why it was even implemented in the first place. Under no circumstances would anyone rely on such nonsense given how manic the levels become. Useless!!

Rating: 3 metal tigers out of 5

PS1 - Destruction Derby 2

Haiku-Review:

all those pile-ups...
but Ultimate Destruction,
where's the destruction?

Additional Comments:

Everything I can possibly say about this game, I pretty much summed up for the original Destruction Derby, even this game's superiority. Well, perhaps I didn't exactly go into detail, or did I in a rather backhanded way against the original title. Hmm...

Then where to begin? I'll go with tracks as I find this particular area of the game to be the most prominent and apparent change for the better. Unlike Destruction Derby's bland, geometric, cookie-cutter snore fests, Destruction Derby offered up a variety of locales that not only feel unique but organic. In some capacity or another, most of the tracks here feel completely plausible whereas those in the original game feel like they were quickly scrawled on a piece of graph paper - 90° corners here followed by more 90° corners there and voilà: a horrible right angled mess overrun with constrictive straights and a serious lack of imagination. But for a first attempt, I can accept it...to a point.

Now, however, the tracks have inherited flowing corners, proper contours, and the ability to hold the entire field without forcing unwanted congestion unless the design specifically calls for it, as is the case with Chalk Canyon. Constriction is completely permissible, and welcomed, in Chalk Canyon's bottleneck because it's an inherent part of the track's design - a clusterfuck of stunts, jumps, and thrill rides to cause as much mayhem as possible. Sadly, Ultimate Destruction attempted to follow suit but failed in every imaginable way.

While I applaud Destruction Derby 2's tracks, I'm left scratching my head over Ultimate Destruction. Every other track is great. Yes, even Pine Hills Raceway despite it being nothing more than a boring old tri-oval where even the slightest mistake draws massive consequences. But that's the breaks when it comes to momentum tracks. Very rarely could I even manage to crack a top 12, and typically I'd just consider it a throwaway race; even when it comes to Wrecking mode, but more on that later. Getting back to Ultimate Destruction, the track is a menace, and not in the inviting smash 'em, crash 'em action we're promised. Despite having a ghastly layout comprised of tight turns, narrow straights, crossovers, and a couple serious jumps, this track is garbage. Never mind it being horrible to drive, especially if you accidentally take the left fork at the first split - good luck getting through those narrow twists unscathed and at speed - the track is remarkably existing under false pretenses. For as many times as I've played this game, both now for Beat All Games, and way back when it first came out and it found its way into my PlayStation possibly more than any other game save perhaps Formula 1 and Sim City 2000, I have never seen more than one, maybe two cars drop out of this race that weren't affected by my own forced ruthlessness. That's equivalent to Pine Hills Raceway, but the small attrition rate is to be expected there - it's a tri-oval. Ultimate Destruction, by namesake alone, is expected to be automobile carnage. I'd expect it to be Red Pike Arena incarnate in racing form, that is, all and all out racing melee. Instead, suddenly everyone becomes recipients of Allstate's safe driver program while I'm left to ricochet from barrier to barrier because the track is so fucking impossible to drive. Of course, I exaggerate. I can make clean laps from Rookie to Pro, but I doubt I'll ever manage a clean race, which I can do anywhere else - yes, even Chalk Canyon.

But it's not racing Ultimate Destruction in Stock Car mode that aggravates me the most. Between Black Sail Valley and Liberty City, it's more than easy enough to pick up the necessary points to just tank Ultimate Destruction if warranted. Ultimate Destruction is the true throwaway race. Congratulations, Pine Hills Raceway, you're actually a better track than what should have been the pinnacle of racing mayhem. In a way, Ultimate Destruction is akin to any of the Rainbow Roads in the various Mario Kart games. They're always overrated layouts that are nothing but a chore to drive yet they're supposed to be the end all beat all climatic joyride of the game. And so it is with Ultimate Destruction in Wrecking mode, or heck, even Death Bowl. What a miserable, asinine layout that thing is. Wrecking mode on Ultimate Destruction - what's the point? Thanks to Wrecking mode's magical, and predictable outcomes and a guarantee that I'll struggle just to skate by with a mere 50 points on this track, it's no wonder I find this track a grave misnomer. Destruction my ass. I'm guaranteed even less points in the final arena because chances are I'm going to be prematurely punted into oblivion. Thank god it's relatively easy to rack up the points in the first three races of the series.

I'm essentially beating a dead horse by this point, so moving on. Since I brought up Wrecking mode's mysterious maths concerning scoring, seems the perfect mechanic to transition to. Much like the first game, I love Stock Car mode, mostly because it's unpredictable. Anyone and everyone has an equal chance of winning any given race except for Learner Driver who is simply a failure at life. Although I vaguely recall years ago whilst playing the game, I actually saw him advance from Division 4 to Division 3. It must have been a result of divine intervention because I swear, given his driving, the programming must have a fail-safe to ensure Learner Driver sucks in every way possible. But that's not the point.

Point is, Stock Car racing is so much more enjoyable to play through because Wrecking mode's easily calculable from the get go. Points appear to be magically pulled from thin air and awarded based on Division as opposed to actual bumping and grinding out on the track. I can only figure this to be a necessary evil because the game can't correctly process all twenty cars at any given notice. Problem is, even if Psycho or The Skum is flipped in the first turn on the first lap with minimal interaction with anybody to cause such an accident, they're still going to miraculously rack up on average 225 points. On the other end of the spectrum, given Learner Driver's inability to steer, brake, or anything remotely driving related, should be bagging all sorts of points because he's doing nothing but running into everything that moves. Instead, he'll be lucky to score 35 points. The system is so broken and as such forces you to play the mode in a rather undesired way. For Division 3 and Division 4, it's easy to just circle the track and with a few easy grazes to outscore the competition, but in Division 1 and Division 2, you need to rethink your approach to the game, especially in Division 1 where you need to average 250 to 300 points in order to outclass everyone. Any sense of racing flies out the window at this point which is, frankly, depressing. Where exactly is the fun in parking the car; hopefully causing a twenty car pileup while the rest of the field gets to race the track knowing full well they're going to be awarded automatic points by race end? There's a definite imbalance in gameplay here. Maybe I'm just missing the point.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy performing head-on collisions, purposefully T-boning my rivals or simply imitating Learner Driver's stupidity but I feel like I'm missing out on the real fun as I watch everyone else zip by, spinning each other out at speed. That's the way Wrecking mode should function if the resulting accolades weren't so predetermined and were more factual to the racing that just occurred. Still, Wrecking mode is a blast to play since it instills a bit more madness in the AI over Stock Car mode. I think one reason the predictable outcomes infuriate me so is that there's a certain increased enjoyment in outpacing the other crumbums when the fight to stay on track becomes a serious point of contention. Too bad I only get a measly 50 point for a win. Might as well stick to my original plan and just park the car either on a sweeping apex or after a nefarious jump - essentially anywhere the AI may unfortunately break loose, tag my car and spin into a furious 720°.

What of the other improvements though? Somehow, I've found myself well off track disparaging an otherwise magnificent game. Besides the much loved and needed track upgrades, another welcome addition is modifying the division count from five to four. This is a massive, and in my opinion, vital change. Five divisions was not only unnecessary overkill, but slightly stripped a heightened sense of competition that becomes very apparent in Destruction Derby 2's increased division pools, even if that increase is only a single driver. Still, racing against four drivers as opposed to three feels far more nerve-wracking. Those podium positions are all the more important if the art of probability comes into play. Not only that, but it cuts down on the tedium of play tenfold. Four seasons, give or take a few seasons depending on promotion or rather, lack thereof, is perfect for a single spurt of gameplay. Destruction Derby's minimum of five seasons, however, dragged the game down - akin to slogging through thick, viscous mud in heavy denim. The misery.

Another welcome change - well, welcome may not be the best may to describe it. Expected? I'd call it questionable considering its replacement, but nonetheless gracious at least some sort of change was enacted. The pointless Destruction Derby mode from the first game has been replaced with the more heart-attack inducing Total Destruction. The obvious benefit: no longer do I have to sit through an entire season of single arena devastation. Instead, I can suffer through thirty seconds of all-out warfare upon the player. Holy shit! The AI have been reprogrammed with seek and destroy directives against me, and only me. What's the fun in that? I get that it's pure survivalist mode in all its glory, but it emphasizes survival over destruction. I find that it discredits the intent of the game. A better alternative, now that four arenas exist, that is if you choose to call Death Bowl worthy of the name, arena, they could have kept the original Destruction Derby mode model. Key difference is this time it would have worked because there's a quality of individuality among each arena instead of using the same boring circle over and over.

All in all, Destruction Derby 2 is a fantastic game and one of my favorite titles from the original PlayStation era. The graphics are well outdated, as is anything from that era, but I think they hold up for what they are. The physics and mechanics for the most part are flawless, save the aforementioned black magic math, and every now and then you're subject to some faulty collisions. Consider it a saving grace, but a number of times when collisions mysteriously turned off was ok by me. And then, the soundtrack: a direct followup to the original's adrenalin pumping thrash metal goodness. I find it strange to say "thrash metal" and "goodness" in the same sentence, as I'm not the biggest fan of the genre, but the music's so fitting for the car crunching action of Destruction Derby 2. However, take the game away, and I have a sneaky suspicion I'd rather detest the songs of Jug and Tuscan. Let's experiment: Dead Happy, How Do You Know, Pushed Away, Joyrider, Direction, and one of the greatest victory songs ever, Jade. Respect! Jug can really bring it and they proved me wrong. Even without the game, the soundtrack is killer.

Rating: 4.5 overzealous announcers out of 5