GEN - Comix Zone

Haiku-Review:

the 90s explained
through video game artwork
plus bonus CD!

Additional Comments:

Unfortunately, those who buy the game used and those who play it on emulator will likely never experience the bonus CD that originally came with the game - a collection of songs from various artists on the American Recordings label. While some stuff is typical 90s alt-rock fare, there's some great songs on there too. Still love Laika's "44 Robbers" and MC 900 Ft Jesus' "Buried at Sea." But alas, none of that has any actual bearing on the game, and after all, that's what's important.

Comix Zone is yet another game I played quite regularly in my youth. It's a unique, stylized brawler set within a comic book drawn by the game's protagonist. The stages consist of pages broken down by panels inhabited by denizens that are drawn to life by the comic book's antagonist who now exists in modern New York City. Good god, that's some heavy shit right there. It's like a nightmarish revision of A-ha's video for "Take On Me." Unfortunately, due to its caustic difficulty, I rarely made much headway back then. My best guess was I made it to the arena in Tibet, perhaps a couple panels after if I was lucky. At least that's as much as I experienced that rang vaguely familiar.

Perhaps a bit tangential, but completely relevant all the same, whenever I return to a game from my childhood that happens to suffer from notorious difficulty, it always amazes me how much more patience I used to have. Comix Zone is the epitome of a practice makes perfect game, and these days, I've found my joy for these types of games has dearly waned. Yet, I think this may be a common phenomenon among a large number of gamers.

With the evolution of game design theory and principles, we've moved from score based games to story driven games. In score based games, lives are your sole focus as you have so many attempts to rack up the highest score possible. Story driven games place emphasis on story and adventure. Lives are old fashion and have no place here. Instead, the ability to save your progress runs rampant, which many people condone as a general easing of difficulty. This has led to the popular belief that today's games are far too easy compared to yesterday's games. In many respect, this is true, but I think it's important to understand why this is true. The 8-bit and 16-bit era of video games can almost be considered the gawky teenager in the video game timeline. It was a transitional period between placing weight on score or story. As a result, developers were clumsy with how to handle key aspects of gameplay in terms of difficulty. I believe Comix Zone is one such game. Why? Because you're only given a single life in a brutally tough beat 'em up that has a fairly strong emphasis on story. It becomes disheartening to see the unsuspecting world about to endure the full wrath of Mortus' mutant villainy for the nth time.

There's no room for error in this game. Unlike, for instance, the Double Dragon series, you have to be on your A game at all times. Comix Zone requires a lot of baby steps and repetition. I remember this being the case when I was young. Come to think of it, Volgarr the Viking reminds me a lot of how Comix Zone operates. Instead of busting heads, you need to fully evaluate the situation set before you and figure out the best method to advance while losing little to no health. Unfortunately, Comix Zone places a few obstacles in your way, some literal.

The only thing that matters in this game is health and you must ensure you're doing everything possible to retain as much of it as you can. Tanking is a dangerous endeavor even if you happen to have an extra ice tea on hand. You can't afford to smash the attack button irresponsibly because you don't care how much of a dick Styx, the pogo stick monk, is; there's a pretty good chance the next panel is going to contain a heavy concrete door that you're going to have to bust down and sadly, you're out of explosives. Doors, barrels, grates, and other obstacle laden bullshit is the real bane of Sketch's existence. Unless there's a trick to destroy the obstacle or you happen to have some extra dynamite on hand, you're going to loose a good bit of health in your attempt to remove the barriers. This is so...stupid. But hold on! There's another method. Sketch has the amazing ability to rip sheets of paper from the very fabric of his new existence inside his own comic book and make deadly paper airplanes. How meta! (And what's that? Paper Airplanes? Funny how those hints work out.) Except, doing so depletes a good portion of Sketch's health as well.

So, recap. Tough as nails enemies are sure to give your health the old one two, but at the same time, you need to ensure you have more than enough not just to survive the stage, but to break down any upcoming obstacles. And for the really annoying stuff, you can always fire off a paper airplane, if you have more than enough health to handle the strenuous task of ripping apart the paper made space-time continuum. Thank goodness for a hefty helping of ice tea conveniently misplaced around the neighborhood. Except that brings up an additional level of aggravating decision.

For every time I've ever complained of a limited inventory in which items are fairly important, I must apologize. Heck, I just did so for Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. Comix Zone takes limited pocket size to a whole new level. Sketch has three slots that can be filled, and sadly, Roadkill, Sketch's pet rat that is impressively useful at any given moment, takes up a slot. So really, you only have two slots to play with unless you're confident enough to make more than enough headway without replenishing your health, therefore not requiring Roadkill's ability to sniff out a few extra ice teas from the inter-dimensional page of Sketch's new reality. But even with that cocky attitude, you may still need Roadkill to throw a few unreachable switches. Decisions, decisions. Because, you know, I'd really love to haul around a superhero icon along with some explosives and an extra ice tea - three items that could likely place me on the path to victory. Do I ditch the explosives and accept the fact that I'm going to take a nasty hit to my health when I have to break down that door or leave the superhero behind and just hope that Kung-Fung isn't at much of an RNG asshole as he usually is?

Simply put, it's all evaluation, strategy, and careful repetition. Once you know the optimal method to tackle a stage it simply comes down to dealing with everything's rather clunky hitboxes. Additionally, I feel using a six button controller might have a slight advantage over using a three button controller. As a kid, I always used a three button, since that's all I had. On my recent playthrough, I briefly tried a six button setup but reverted back to a three button since that's what I always played with in the past. However, a six button controller allows to have manual blocking at your disposal which I believe may be infinitely more helpful, at least compared to the so-called auto-blocking, that honestly, I question how helpful it actually is.

Despite the game's brutal difficulty, two of the three bosses are surprisingly easy, one of which is the final boss. In fact, I'd go so far to say that Mortus may be the easiest foe in the game. It's always a shame when the difficulty ratio of level vs. boss is upended far too much in one direction or the other. Although Kung Fung is a miserably taxing miscreant to face, he balances the stage sufficiently. Mortus plays as nothing more than anti-climactic fodder. The real challenge for me was realizing that some mystery switch suddenly appeared so that I could release Alissa from her nuclear goopy doom. That's an embarrassing way to achieve the bad ending. I had to end up looking up how to achieve the good ending because I expected something far more complicated than a simple switch magically appearing next to Alissa's imprisonment. Of course, it's so obvious now, but at the time I felt like a total idiot. Well, to be fair, I still feel like a total idiot, and as such have confessed as much in words to live in eternity.

Tough or not, I still think Comix Zone is a great game. I recall enjoying the game as a kid, and I still enjoyed it today. Sure, it's not the end all be all brawler. So many other titles easily top it, however, Comix Zone does the genre fair justice. And besides, it offers up one of the most unique approaches to the genre by placing the player inside a comic book where at times he may even find himself having to bust down the white space barriers between panels. The paper and drawing elements, be it Roadkill shredding the page in search of hidden items, or Mortus' giant hand quickly penning in some new baddies, are done superbly well. Also, considering it's on the Genesis, some fabulous throaty growls, and thick, chunky riffs are to be expected, and are they ever. Some noteworthy stuff includes Episode 1, Page 1-1 and Episode 2, Page 1-2. Heck, even the Sega Logo is badass.

Rating: 3.5 100 pound mozzarella donations out of 5

GEN - Sonic the Hedgehog Spinball

Haiku-Review:

Mr. the Hedgehog!
It was inevitable
to play some pinball

Additional Comments:

After the sheer disappointment that was Soldier Girl Amazon, I had to crank out something I knew I'd enjoy. Something I loved in the distant past that I've been itching to return to after all these years. Something carrying the name of excellence. Without wishing to venture into Sonic the Hedgehog 3 quite yet, Sonic Spinball sounds like the perfect candidate for the job. Besides, outside of a quick ten minute refresher a couple of years ago, I think it's been close to twenty years since I sat down with this beauty.

From the very beginning, Sonic screamed pinball as he rolled through loops at dizzying speeds and bounced recklessly about from bumper to bumper. And if these little prophetic mechanics weren't enough, whole stages echoed the magnificence of pinball within their 2D platform design such as Spring Yard or Casino Night. In fact, Casino Night Zone had pockets of pinball-esque areas where you could use a set of flipper to send Sonic bouncing about racking up points or hopefully dunk him in a roulette where he could score big. It felt a natural evolution to further Sonic's forays into pure pinball platforming, perhaps minus the platforming?

Sonic Spinball managed to fulfill that step to a T. Obviously, many liberties have been taken in regards to actual pinball chicanery with a good bit of platforming still present, though squashed to a extremely minimal amount. Still the walking and jumping mechanics are prevalent enough to remind you that Sonic Spinball isn't quite a full on pinball emulation. If anything, it's like the developers said what if we take the most action packed segments of Spring Yard or Casino Night and made a whole game out of them. Add a little extra pinball-esque pizzazz and that's essentially what's here.

At times, however, I wish the developer would have gone in a full pinball direction as the platforming mechanics are a little clunky. Compared to Sonic 2, they feel rough around the edges. The jumping, for instance, instills very little confidence. There's an odd directional delay that can hinder a jump's height. This is most noticeable in The Machine where there's a wall near the top of the stage on either side that you need to jump over. Because of the narrow opening, I always found myself jumping at a bad angle either preventing the jump altogether or retarding the height. Additionally, the walking and turning feels a bit spongier than in the various 16-bit Sonic games.

Then again, to strip the game of the minimal reminders of platforming could potentially alienate Sonic fans altogether. While erratic pinball behavior may be a brilliant step forward in the series, we still need  that simple memento to help us remember why we loved the series to begin with. Although, does it really matter in a spin-off? Probably not, but it certainly helped the case as I think despite the slightly cumbrous controls at times, the platforming adds a much welcomed uniqueness to the overall game that emphasizes the mesh between typical Sonic platforming and furious pinball action., bearing the pinball side of the tale is a bit more heavy handed.

Despite having only four stages, I remember this game holding my attention for days on end in my younger days. Really, I only ever played the first two stages, making it to the third on very rare occasion. Even now, I think four stages, while sounding minuscule in today's standards, is just enough playable material. Any more and I believe the game would begin to lose its charm. My main reason for believing this is with the increasing complexity over each stage, it eventually plays to the detriment of the game. I personally find that the game peaks with the third stage. While the fourth stage, Showdown, is still fun and interesting, I think the sheer size and labyrinthine design steps away from the allure of the first three. Maybe it's just the final boss that reminded me of how arduous a task it is to traverse that particular stage. Even the ridiculous, and surprisingly mandatory, cluck bounces in Lava Powerhouse don't curtail that stage from needless convolution. Lava Powerhouse, as a whole, is still packed tightly enough that you never feel overwhelmed, disoriented, or annoyed with having to repeat the same sections over and over again because you accidentally slipped into one of the previous areas. As much as I hated Mario Pinball Land, that is something that game did right. Even if I fell from an upper board to a lower board, it never felt like a chore to regain ground. And in a game where luck plays just as much of a hand as skill, that's a tough pill to swallow.

Fulfilling the definition of chore or not, I cannot deny the ingenuity behind these stages - The Machine especially. Though it bordered on being too complex for its own good, The Machine was an interesting mishmash of ideas and of the four stages, felt most reminiscent of something that could potentially appear in a traditional Sonic platformer. Parts of it made me think of Scrap Brain, Star Light, or even Death Egg. And while Toxic Caves and Lava Powerhouse teeter on that line, Showdown felt a little too foreign. Yes, I can find similarities here and there - there's no denying it's Sonic in its roots - but I think again it became a case of too complex for its own good to the point it begins to lose the identity shared by the rest of the game. Maybe the stage just annoyed me that much without realizing it and I'm making a mountain out of a molehill.

The good news, however, is there's nothing else I can pick apart. From here on out it's nothing but unicorns and rainbows. Sonic Spinball is a brilliantly fun game. You just need to realize you're getting Sonic's brand of pinball and not true pinball. But you know what? I love 'em both. In my book, Sonic's unique take on pinball is just as enjoyable as the real thing. Besides, one thing the real deal doesn't have is wildly bizarre takes on Dr. Robotnik for some truly intriguing bosses. Robo-Scorpion has always been one of my personal favorites, and Robo-Boiler? What's not to love about that freakishly insane machine filled with four of Dr. Robotnik's disembodied heads spewing pools of liquid hot magma?

Another thing the real deal lacks is some seriously awesome 16-bit pure Sega crunch. I've gone on the record numerous time declaring my love for the sound engine used by the Genesis, and sure as beans, Sonic Spinball plays up my opinion with more of that beautifully jarring growls that we come to expect. Although short, Theme is a classic, but for some of that raw Sega sound, tunes like Toxic Caves or Boss are definite recommended listens.

Nano-Rant:

Ok, I have one last sour note to end on. After playing through normal speed, I began playing the game on the fast setting. I made it as far as Robo-Boiler and the game came to a crashing halt. For some inexplicable reason, Robo-Boiler lacked any sort of collision which meant I couldn't harm him which meant I couldn't proceed any further in the game. By this point, I was a littler worse for wear as it felt like I had played the game straight for hours, not to mention Showdown along with the final boss began grating at my nerves on my previous playthrough. I had no real particular interest in restarting, at least not at the time.

I looked around on the net to see if this was a known glitch, or at least one that's been reported but extremely rare. Unfortunately, I found nothing on the subject. This disheartened me even more. Frustrated with how the game came to an end, lack of confirmation that this has ever happened to anyone else, and the knowledge that speedruns of Sonic Spinball use the fast setting (obviously), I had to make a second attempt just for the sake of peace of mind. After another attempt, all I can say is that it appears to be a fluke. Just unfortunate that that fluke happened to be a pretty game breaking bug when it occurred.

Nano-Win:

Scratch that! I can't end such a great game on the down and out.  I do have an additional testament of joy to add. For all the years I've owned this game and for as much as I played it years ago, I never knew there were additional bonus stages (stage, singular, really) for collecting all the rings. It just blew my mind that not once did I ever manage to collect all the rings on at least Toxic Caves. There's not that many and they're all pretty damn easy to obtain so....

Rating: 4 mad doctors demanding you smell their socks out of 5

GEN - Ecco the Dolphin

Haiku-Review:

joyful in Home Bay
until a twister disrupts;
hate-filled ocean preys

Additional Comments:

Ecco the Dolphin may be the first game to brandish the award of being both equally loved and hated all at the same time. I have a sneaky suspicion I'm not alone on that sentiment either. Across the internet, people appear to both love and hate this game, but what's interesting is the enduring passion breathed into each polar opposite. Much like myself, people don't appear to casually love/hate Ecco, but do so with a beaming heart or a furious belly. How can this be?

For me, the tale goes back a number of years to that magical time known as the 90s. One year, while visiting family, I got to spend a couple days playing a Genesis where I played a couple games rather unfamiliar to me. One was some helicopter game which for the life of me I have no recollection of its name, but I recall enjoying it. My suspicions over the past few years is Urban Strike, but I'm not too certain. Anyway, the other game was Ecco: The Tides of Time. Tides of Time blew my mind. Everything about it was unlike anything I had ever played before and I relished every moment of it.

Skip forward to the early 2000s when I started my first round of game collecting. Immediately, Ecco: Tides of Time was named a must have as was its predecessor, Ecco the Dolphin. Logic dictated if Tides of Time was the brilliant masterpiece I remembered it being, the original must have at least been blessed with obvious merit. It should be noted that this is terrible logic, if my exercise in Beat All Games has taught me anything, but alas, I was naïve then.

After getting my hands on Ecco the Dolphin, I popped it in my Genesis, fought my way valiantly through all of two levels and was left sucking my thumb in the corner of the room scarred from such vicious and perplexing difficulty. I'm not even joking - two levels, and that includes Home Bay which is essentially a free lesson in swimming techniques while learning some very basic background. That means I struggled through a single level where after I collapsed in total consternation. But...but against all instinct based on this horrific turn of events, I absolutely loved the game. As such, I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and returned for more...only to throw furious F-bombs at the torrid insanity passed off as challenge.

And so, over the years, my love for the game has been such that I'll go out of my way to pick up any of the various ports of the game because the game is simply genius. However, my hatred has been such that after my early attempts, I shelved the game; never to return again. Fuck that game! It's fucking ridiculous!

Eventually, I returned to Ecco, as it's swan song of beauty and grace couldn't keep me away forever. At some point, when most of my collection resided in boxes, I made a feeble attempt on an emulator. Recollections of yore soon triggered and I carried on to some other title. History repeats, it seems, until now. With a daunting pledge of victory, I attempted to tackle Ecco the Dolphin for what would hopefully be the final time, in regards to seeing it through to the end. This was two, maybe three years ago and once again I hit that brick wall of unforgiving difficulty. Since then, Ecco has sat on the back burner where I maybe knocked out one or two levels per years. Finally, in the past recent weeks, I decided enough is enough and pounded out the rest of the game. Holy mother of god! This game is intense. But it's not all intense.

One of the strangest quirks about Ecco the Dolphin is the irrational difficulty curve throughout the course of the game. It's all over the place which really unbalances the overall feel. Right from the beginning the game is relentless but may be considered acceptable to a degree - though I believe that degree to be the thinnest of margins. Eventually you face the ice levels where the difficulty suddenly ramps, or rather it shoots straight up like a rocket. The moving ice blocks in Hard Water has got to be some of the cheapest difficulty I've ever come across in a video game. In fact, that's not difficulty, that's just the developer being a total dick. Then suddenly, the game relaxes into some sort of Zen state. Despite some of the crazy ass jumps demanding Ecco to manage some incredible record-breaking height, the Atlantis stages as well as the preceding island stages, are surprisingly a joy to play. The difficulty for once seemed appropriate allowing a fair chance for proper exploration and general enjoyment of Ecco's abilities. But don't be fooled by the sudden charity because once Ecco travels back in time, all bets are off. I'm only going to say it once - fuck the Jurassic stages. They are a gamer's nightmare, especially Trilobite Circle, but especially Dark Water. Wow! That's all I can say. I'd rather fail endlessly at F-Zero's Master mode or continue to be self-delusional that any of the various Touhous are actually fun north of Normal.

All that being said, let it be known that I am a total idiot - a senseless nitwit if you will and likely have no reason to chastise the game's difficulty as harshly as I have. Although, it can still stand for a proper thrashing nonetheless. Only after beating the game and subsequently doing some mild research on it, I learned Ecco obtains a special sonic attack after rescuing three dolphins. Whether it was told through dialogue or not I somehow completely missed what was obviously a very helpful and necessary upgrade. I even read through the manual a few weeks back before I decided to make my final push but don't recall seeing anything along those lines, and just to make sure I didn't voluntarily omit some possible passage regarding said power-up, I revisited the manual again after completing the game. There's a brief italicized statement mentioning abilities after rescuing three lost pod members, but it's vagueness would never lead me to believe Ecco's subject to a sudden sonar death ray. That's a serious fucking game changer if that's the case and considering the controls are a bit wacky to use it, I'd think something more than an ambiguous disclaimer would be warranted. But I only have my own stupidity to blame I suppose - if, and only if, the lost dolphins laid everything out on the table. Otherwise, just another log to throw on the developer's fire of asinine bullshit.

It can be said, there may be enough wiggle room to argue the true difficulty of the game. Though, even with some debilitating echo location talent, I still imagine the game to be akin to nails on a chalkboard - harsh, disorienting, and enough to make you run screaming into the night. But honestly, for sake of argument, it's all moot for there is no measure of upgrades that can even minutely minimize the arduous challenge and flippant stupidity of Welcome to the Machine. With perhaps the exception of every level following Wookie Hole in Battletoads, Welcome to the Machine has to be one of the most unfairly designed atrocities to ever grace the video game universe. Using a mechanic most familiar to platformers and shmups, Welcome to the Machine, as well as the preceding level, The Tube, uses autoscroll. Ah, the dreaded autoscroll. Truth be told, I don't mind autoscroll. In platformers, it's a unique device that can easily instill intense anxiety into the gamer...when done right. When slapped on as an afterthought or poorly executed, however, than yes, autoscroll is the bane of quality design.

As far as The Tube is concerned, the attached autoscrolling feels natural, even if there are a dozen deadly barriers forcing you to weave your way through using the power of memorization because, yes, you will die. But compared to the ridiculous weaving of Battletoads' Turbo Tunnel, The Tube is a walk in the park. However, Welcome to the Machine quickly reminds you why autoscrolling is so universally panned. Between the clunky level design and the seemingly indecisive scrolling, it is so easy to get trapped multiple times. Just like The Tube's need for quick memorization skills, Welcome to the Machine demands incredible retention for approximately six minutes of disoriented scrolling hell. Most occasions, it's easy to guess where the screen will scroll next - which shifts in one of the eight cardinal directions roughly every 2-8 seconds - but every so often the level architecture can easily lead you astray. For these instances, I usually fell victim to the unfortunate ruse believing the next shift would go in X direction, based on the lay of the land, only to find my forecasting an oracle of doom. By the time I could react to the actual shift, it was too little too late and I found myself crushed to death. Mental note: remember the scroll shifts to the left at that point. Wait. Where was that again? After several dozen shifts, am I really going to remember that? Fuck me. And for anyone mental enough to play through this insanity, be sure you kill the Vortex Queen on your first attempt or else you'll get to enjoy that marvelous mechanized mayhem all over again. Spoiler alert: you won't because it's very likely she'll suck you into her voracious mouth at least once from whence there is no escape. Although, once you get the hang of her, she's not that bad. Unfortunately, you have to continually parade through six minutes of torture just to face her again. At least you essentially have unlimited health for the Vortex's nefarious machine, so...yeah!

I've read where Ed Annunziata, the game's developer, stated that he purposefully made the game hard to deter children from beating it in a single weekend. That's all fine and good, but there's a fine line between challenging and outright unfair, and at times, Ecco the Dolphin struts over that line for no good reason. I thoroughly enjoyed the challenges, when they were proper challenges. However, given some of the design choices in the last few levels, notably Dark Water and Welcome to the Machine, I fail to see the challenge there. I just see poorly executed mechanics and fiendishly evil level design. It's the type of design in which I fail to see anyone experience anything other than rage and frustration. Well, congratulations, Ed. I didn't beat it in a single weekend. It took me a minimum of two years - granted most of that time it was shelved because of my own personal frustrations. If there's a lesson to be learned, it's that a good challenge can be highly entertaining, but frustration is never entertaining, and if I'm not mistaken, the general consensus is that a video game's primary value is that of entertainment. Sadly, Ecco the Dolphin doesn't appear to entirely grasp that notion. Yet still, I inexplicably love the game. Maybe not as much as I once did, but there's still a considerable fondness. Funny, that.

If it's not for the adoration of Ecco himself and his playful antics as he leaps out of the sea in amazing aerial somersaults, or the mystical setting of the ocean depths, the strangely enticing story of sudden vanishment, or the general eeriness of time-travel supplemented by the sunken mysteries of Atlantis, then it must be the music that makes me love this game. With that raw Genesis crunch and growl, the music helps push the overall ominous mood of loneliness to the forefront. With pieces like Opening Theme, Medusa Bay, and Ice Zone, you can't help but empathize with Ecco's sudden isolation from the world he once knew; left with only memories from before the Vortex came; of simpler, happier times. Only, it's funny how the Vortex is really the least of Ecco's worries. The sea is a far more dangerous place.

Nano-Rant:

The least of Ecco's worries, that is, except for the Asterite. What a ridiculous boss. No, ridiculous is too benevolent of a word for that twisted double helix of pain and demoralizing confusion. Not counting all the actual time spent traversing Dark Water's cretinous design, I probably spent upwards of an hour on the Asterite alone trying to figure out what the hell to do. Sadly, this led to death after death after death. Eventually, I turned to GameFAQs, and honestly, I only did so because I thought I was overlooking something in the level itself - a glyph perhaps - and perhaps this DNA replicant was merely "broken" until proposed trigger was flipped. My only argument against that theory was that the final barrier glyph closes once you pass it effectively trapping Ecco which is poor game design. However, if I knew the insanity expected in Welcome to the Machine, I wouldn't put it past the developers to create such an evil trap. Turns out I just completely misunderstood how the Asterite functioned. I don't remember if the present (future?) Asterite told me how to defeat his past self - again, something I likely missed - but I doubt I would have ever figured it out. I have a feeling if I did defeat it without looking up the solution, I would have done so without knowing how exactly I managed it. And in my opinion, that's poor execution on the developers part. But again, I likely skipped over a message, and if that's the case, I have no one to blame except myself.

Rating: 3 dangerous denizens of the sea out of 5*

I had a really hard time rating this game due to my love/hate relationship with it. As such, a fairly balanced score seems best, but perhaps tipped in a favorable light only because my love for the game still ever so slightly trumps the wicked cruelty found within.

GEN - Sonic the Hedgehog 2

Haiku-Review:

heroes need sidekicks
but is Tails worthy the name?
heroes don't need dicks

Additional Comments:

Yet another fond Genesis memory from yesteryear, my earliest recollections consist of battling through the two player mode at a friend's house for hours on end. Between navigating Mystic Cave, taking leisure in Casino Night, or simply balls to the wall head to head action on the half pipe, my earliest experiences with Sonic the Hedgehog 2 were bursting with thrills and excitement. Sadly, I recall little if any single player antics from those early days, but then, that was a long time ago - Christmas of '92 / early '93 or thereabouts I suspect.

Several years later, I found myself with my own copy of the game and while any hopes at a two player effort may have gone out the window, I was able to dive into the single player head first. Right from the start, and I can trace my opinions on the matter to those days in the early 90s, the levels exploded with creativity, speed, and outright grandeur over Sonic's initial foray on the Genesis hardware. Levels such as Chemical Plant, the aforementioned Casino Night and Mystic Cave, Metropolis, and Wing Fortress proved the game's superiority, yet I somehow always found myself returning to Sonic's roots. For me, Green Hill trumped Emerald Hill - always had, and likely always will. Maybe it's just the nostalgia, or maybe it's the music. But then there's greats like Marble Zone and Starlight. Ok, Aquatic Ruins is definitely the preferable water level, but...but.... Why am I so drawn to the original when there are so many advancements in platforming trickery present in the blue hedgehog's second 16-bit outing? I'll admit that Sonic the Hedgehog 3 and Sonic & Knuckles haven't exactly paid favors to Sonic the Hedgehog 2, but that's a story for another time and for the purpose of the here and now, I'm choosing to neglect such hearsay.

Whether I'm a victim of nostalgia glasses or not regarding the better game, I can't deny what Sonic the Hedghog 2 brought to the table. Unlike his first adventure, Sonic can now spin dash - a massive improvement in game mechanics and honestly, after playing a Sonic game that includes said feature then returning to the original game; it's a wonder how you ever functioned without it. Ugh, those unbearable hill climbs where you had to backtrack and make appropriate use of distance whereas in Sonic 2 we can easily zip up and over any obstacle with ease. It's akin to Mega Man's slide. I love Mega Man 2, but good god, without his slide I always feel like I'm playing half a game. And if that's the case, wouldn't Sonic the Hedgehog suffer the same? How dare I imply the possibility that Sonic 2 is an inferior game. Maybe I'm just choosing my words poorly.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2 is by no means inferior to the first game. If anything, it's knocked it out with a quick one-two punch: enhanced mechanics including a semi co-op component, and a vast cross section of creative level settings. And even though by the numbers Sonic 2 only has two more levels, if I'm not mistaken, it almost feels like there's close to a dozen more. By dumping the three acts per zone format in favor of two acts, with a couple of exceptions, Sonic 2 suddenly became a grand adventure through some truly interesting and somewhat bizarre locals - Oil Ocean anyone? Seriously, what other game would pit their hero on a complicated network of oil rigs? I love it! Well, I love the idea of it - Oil Ocean has never been one of my favorite zones to play through. Goddamn Aquis has an uncanny ability to nail me no matter how I approach the situation. Though I don't know what's worse, Aquis or Slicer. Slicer may take top honors only because he seems to interrupt the game's pace more than any other enemy lest you're willing to tank a hit. But it seems I've found myself astray of my original point.

Sonic 2's so-called co-op feature was...interesting to say the least. While it technically allowed a second player into the single player game, it actually played poster boy to the equivalency of a slap in the face. Oh sure, you can play two players...for approximately three seconds every fifteen seconds or so if you're lucky. The idea that Tails equates to co-op mode is mysterious at best, in that it makes you wonder if Sega was making a serious attempt at such a mechanic here or not. I've never understood who would willingly play second fiddle knowing full and well it's nowhere near an actual gaming experience. It's such a bizarre integration of this so-called co-op. On the bright side, at least Sega realized this faux multiplayer would fool no one and integrated a fully playable two player aspect via split screen stage races. And though it's a shame only three zones are utilized, I commend them for their picks; not to mention the ability to run the Special Stage, which in my opinion is where the half pipe truly shines.

Ah yes, the Special Stage's half pipe - so much fun, yet so much frustration rolled into one neat little package. Attempting to get the Chaos Emeralds in single player mode is an unmitigated disaster, especially if Tails is along for the ride. But the real issue is the coin barriers leave little to no room for error. Compared to Sonic the Hedgehog's Special Stage, or heck, even Sonic 3's Special Stage, Sonic 2's asks too much of the player. Whereas the other two games present areas that do offer a challenge, they're not unforgiving. In fact, they're rather easy going. Maybe I'm just bitter over Tails' ineptitude to properly mimic Sonic when it matters most. Stupid fox!

The one upside to Sonic 2's mechanics regarding the Special Stage is the opportunity to gain all of the Chaos Emeralds by the end of Chemical Plant Zone Act 1; even earlier is you do some cheaty menu manipulations apparently. However, Super Sonic is an annoyance like no other, and other than perhaps wanting to 100% the game by getting the good ending, it's not worth chasing the emeralds down. Super Sonic is a complete uncontrollable bastard. I'd rather make one block jumps using Mario's ice physics from Super Mario World than play with this overzealous idiot.

Despite these shortcomings, Sonic the Hedgehog 2 should still be a clear victor over the original. It's just...it doesn't quite come together for me, but where it does come together it does so beautifully. Another of those beautiful moments, like all of the early Sonic games, is the music. Whether it's Chemical Plant Zone, Metropolis Zone, or the relaxing Sky Chase Zone, the songs are simply fantastic. But can anything trump those fat synths rolling along in Mystic Cave Zone? I think not.

Overall, a fantastic game for any Sonic fan, or heck, any fan of platformers in general. For the everyday man, yes, Sonic the Hedgehog 2 outshines Sonic the Hedgehog without contention, but for me it's going to have to put up a fight. But I'm not exactly your average gamer, so go and enjoy this incredible gem of a game and a milestone in Sonic's early career.

Nano-Rant:

But I can't possibly end it there without talking about what a true rapscallion Tails is. Fuck that, he's a grade A asshole! There's a certain enjoyment about playing the game on Sonic & Tails mode. It feels right, seeing Tails, the carefree sidekick trying his best to keep up with his hero. But my god, how many times I fell victim to his mischievous ways or his general disregard for Sonic's well being. Hill Top's version of Robotnik is the best example of this - Tails sneaking in an extra hit only to initiate Robotnik's brief invincibility so I can fall to my doom in the pool of lava. Fuck off, Tails! You are not helping! Other examples include Tails preemptively activating various lifts or platforms as I fall to my death. I never liked you anywaaaaaaaaaaaaa.......

What a jerk.

Rating: 4.5 biplanes out of 5

GEN - Shove It!: The Warehouse Game

Haiku-Review:

workplace policies
a là Loverboy's design?
work for new romance

Additional Comments:

It wasn't until my struggle through the last dozen or so rooms that I learned this game - contender for most ridiculous title of all time - is based on an early Japanese puzzle game called Sokoban. Oddly enough, I was well aware of Sokoban for a number of years and knew it to be a puzzle game of sorts but never knew that the basis of Shove It! and Sokoban were one in the same. Really puts a dent in my assumed gaming trivia knowledge. Ouch.

On an unrelated note: whereas 2014 appears to be the year of running through my backlog of uncompleted games, Shove It! is the first game that didn't come from said list.

Unfortunately, there isn't very much to speak of when it comes to Shove It!. It's a simple - in appearance - puzzle game that can become frustratingly difficult in the higher echelons of abstract warehousing. Essentially, move a set number of boxes into a marked area. The catch: you can only push one box at a time; keyword is push. No pulling allowed - which will help prevent back pain at least.

There is an amazing adherence to a proper difficulty curve throughout it's 160 levels, which I have to applaud. Most puzzle games like to throw out a few freebies as training material and then immediately turn it up to eleven; staying there for the remainder of the game. Shove It! kept a nice, linear progression. Sure, a few head-scratchers were thrown in the mix here and there, but the truly brain-warping puzzles didn't appear until the last dozen rooms or so.

Was it coincidence that I learned of Shove It's! (wait, how exactly is a possessive shown when an exclamation mark is part of the phrase in question?) heritage around the same time? Nay. Twas a search for an opening move after staring inquisitively at the TV screen for nigh on a hour or more. But I will say, out of 160 puzzles, I only had to seek an opening move on five rooms, and they were all rooms that required a ton of setup work before you could even begin to attempt putting any boxes away. Perhaps it's shameful to admit that, but turning to the evils of guidance for roughly only 3% of the game - not too shabby considering how evil some of those final setups were. And honestly, I'm sure I would have figured out that one move that brought my work to a grinding halt if I didn't have to suffer ten rooms before the next password was doled out. In the latter levels where I was averaging thirty minutes or more to solve a puzzle, ten rooms quickly ate up a good chunk of time.

Puzzles that required hefty amounts of setup work killed a lot of the fun. For me, the smaller, more difficult puzzles is where the game shines. I loved all of the small, simple setups, or at least what appeared simple upon first glance but proved diabolical in the end. Several of these rooms left me thumping my brain for a good while as well. However, the frustration within these rooms didn't irk me the way some of the larger rooms did. Rooms that contained over a couple dozen boxes; requiring you to maneuver each one through long sections of cramped, twisting corridors just ended up being tedious. The idea that I was solving a puzzle felt lost within these rooms. Instead, the manual labor connotation of the game's title became far more apparent. Less a puzzle than actual work. Bleagh!! Luckily, these rooms were few and far between.

Still, Shove It! occupies a genre of games I enjoy. I'm always up for a good brainteaser and this game delivers, although I should likely thank Imabayashi's Sokoban as Shove It! is essentially a clone. I think Shove It! brought a few original levels to the table, based on some of my research, but I wouldn't quote me on that. It did, however, offer up a worthless soundtrack. Actually, as lame as the soundtrack is, I never found it to be grating. I found myself letting the background music run its course without bother, though it would have been nice if they had at least offered up one or two alternatives to help mix it up a bit.

Nano-What?

Every now and then, you learn useless but fascinating information thanks to video games. My initial intent of this section was to admonish the protagonist's name, Stevedore. What a ridiculous name, I laughed. But then I thought to myself, it must have been chosen by design. Sure enough, my criticisms are moot as there is sound reasoning behind the name. Synonymous with dockworker or longshoreman, Stevedore would be right at home moving boxes.

Now if only the warehouses where he works weren't of such ridiculous design. I have a feeling the architect that designed the impossibilities in Dark Alliance II may have drawn up these organizational abominations as well. I feel for the guy, I really do.

Rating: 4 L.A.-centric passwords out of 5

GEN - TechnoCop

Haiku-Review:

drug deals, hostages...
what pedestrian crimes. wait....
baby being crushed!?

Additional Comments:

No words....

Seriously, there are no words for what I saw flash on screen as I drove into the Golden Apartments on York Street. The call's gone out and I'm responding to a 151 - baby being crushed? Think about that - a baby is being crushed. A baby is being crushed! Good god! Somewhere out there some demented fuckup is crushing babies. But more worrying is that somewhere out there a game developer has run out of ideas regarding usable crimes: hostages, drugs etc., and had a light bulb flicker when it came to baby being crushed. I don't know; maybe this is a common problem in a hard luck, dystopian future.

Honestly, I think I should just call the commentary on TechnoCop. Need anything else be said? Is there really anything worth saying beyond the dark and twisted promotion of baby crushing? Sadly, yes. As if with enthusiastic anticipation, the amount of bellyaching this game has to offer is simply astounding. But here's the catch: typically, I find myself drawn to bad games. There's a certain appeal about them - maybe a sort of ugly duckling syndrome. The obvious downside to this bizarre obsession is having to tackle games that are truly awful. And that's exactly what TechnoCop is - a truly awful mess of a game. Though I have to wonder if this nightmare is yet another result of porting a computer game to a console, or was it always this bad. Hearing the Day's mention the game in passing on one of their episodes of Co-Optitude as a "great" Amiga entry certainly confounded the situation. Huh.

Although it takes some serious imagination, I can envision potential here. Unfortunately, the game falls flat on its face and shamelessly wallows in a fetid pool of failure and frustration. What really makes it stick out as an interesting case though is that the game is split into two wholly different styles of gameplay and Razorsoft miraculously botched them both beyond belief.  TechnoCop is a combination driver, in the vein of Roadblasters, and platformer, to me most closely resembling Flashback. I'm on the fence over which portion of the game works better, if at all.

Technically, the driving sequences probably outshine the platforming areas, but sadly they are boring, irksome, and at times questionable. It's been a long time since I really sat down and played a screen-in racing game - the likes of Rad Racer, OutRun etc. The driving sequences in The Adventures of Bayou Billy may have been the last of that style that I've played in some time, and those are pretty rough and tumble themselves. Point is, I'm a little sketchy on how the physics normally work in those games since it's been a number of years, but I found myself fighting the "turn right to go left / turn left to go right" mechanics in TechnoCop. This very well may be the case in other racing games of the type, so I could be speaking out of my ass, but it's never felt so prevalent as it here. Add in a half dozen semis trying to shove you into the trees and steering is damn near hopeless. Never mind that the car's gun turret is positioned asymmetrically and its defenses are useless against some truck stop punker angrily beating away at the roof with his bare fists. Seriously, why is this so damaging, yet I can rub up against three rigs simultaneously over the course of 26 miles without even a scratch? And why can I only remove that bionic armed mutant by casually crashing into the trees? I guess there's always a nuke, but I'm not going to waste a nuke willy-nilly.

Outshines? Eh...maybe not. Those driving sequences are likely some of the worst driving sequences I've ever experienced in a game. So maybe the platforming is the real hero here. After all, it makes up the greater bulk of the game; not just design-wise, but the amount of action and exploration that takes place. Wait...am I even playing the same game? Where am I? I cannot comprehend the design choices in this game at all. One minute we're barreling down a country road, guns a blazing and then suddenly were working our way through a labyrinth of inner city projects. I parked my car in a fucking field on the side of some highway that appears to run endlessly through miles upon miles of nothing. Where the hell did this run down tenement block come from? It doesn't exist! Oh, but it does, and the transition is such a bizarre, jerky juxtaposition of environments that it belittles the overall concept of the game. It literally feels like I'm playing two completely different, and wholly unrelated games. Couldn't the developers have at least used a city background in the driving sequences? Maybe replace all of the trees with streetlamps? For example, in The Adventures of Bayou Billy, which utilizes three distinct styles of gameplay, one could argue the same dilemma in its I-10 driving stage as presented here in TechnoCop, except that when you finish said stage in that game a representation of New Orleans appears in the background offering proper continuity between the stagnant marshlands of Billy's home and the streets of...ok, I'll be nice and keep my personal feelings out of it, eh...New Orleans. I guess Razorsoft hoped for a suspension of disbelief on the player's part. I prefer to think of it as laziness on their part. I guess detailing the gruesome deaths of the criminal presence was far more important.

Enough of the aesthetics and all-around nominal plot-based pitfalls; what little hope TechnoCop desperately clung to was clearly for naught after fighting my way through floor after floor of men of ill repute. Instantly, Flashback came to mind based on the protagonist's basic moveset, but similar to my ladder issues in Faxanadu, I let the idea sink in too much for my own good. Time and time again I was infuriated over not being able to duck and roll. I think that one ability alone would have helped the overall feel of the platforming areas. Otherwise, it felt so rigid, almost restricting when forced to duck to take aim and then try and advance. I went through the game nearly three times to the end, not including numerous practice runs on the first seven or eight stages, and still never got a proper handle on quickly ducking then standing again to proceed. Such a little thing became a monumental battle throughout.

Also, hitboxes make no sense. I've played numerous games with bad hitboxes, but I've never had a hitbox frustrate me as much as the ones found here. Damage is confusing and unreliable under all circumstances. Times when I swore I successfully dodged a hit - nope, damaged. Other times I miraculously escaped by the skin of my teeth - don't know how, but I'll take it. Talking about unreliable, dynamite is the most unpredictable device in the game. Why is there dynamite replenishing my health? I'm chalking that one up to a grievous error and/or an all out dickish implementation solely to fuck with the player's head. It's the fucking timer in Where's Waldo all over again. And I swear I saw a knife pass through a wall, but my bullets sure can't. This game is an exercise in programming anarchy. Honestly, as terrible as the driving sequences are, this blatant defiance of basic video game principle is what allows it to be marginally better than the platforming in my view.

Yet there's so much more awry in the platforming. For one, the timer seems to be some arbitrary number pulled out of thin air. In some levels it's barely enough time to do...well, anything. I thought the timer was unforgivable in some of the Spy vs. Spy levels, but here it's just stupid. At the same time, however, there's some levels that have such an absurd abundance of time that I could have run two or three levels on its timer alone. Whatever the criteria for the timer is, it's not working. Sure, I managed it, but those questionable levels typically finished with the timer at 00:01, and I had to fight like hell just to ensure that. You absolutely have to know the building's layout if you hope to have any sort of a chance in those tightly timed levels.

Another annoyance relates to jumping. To me, if a platformer balks jumping, it's all over. TechnoCop's jumping is simply atrocious and to add to the frustration are sequences of pits that don't seem to align to the character's jump distance properly. Well, they do, but it takes some solid effort to jump at the perfect moment thus pushing it into the realms of pixel-perfect jumping. Pixel-perfect jumping is always a drag, but I probably wouldn't mind it at much here if it weren't for some of those super short timers forcing you to press your luck on a set of successive jumps typically ending in utter disappointment, and very likely, death.

I could go on and on, but given all the problems so far, what's the point? TechnoCop is easily one of the worst games I've ever played. In fact, I billed the game as the second worst game I've ever played to a couple friends of mine. I just don't see anything toppling Where's Waldo from that prized step. But what really rubs salt in the wound - if the game wasn't bad enough - is that we're treated to a soundtrack of silence. That's right, other than than the opening titles, which sounds akin to some uninspired rock chops saturated with a nails-on-a-chalkboard melody, and the end screen, which is a lot better than the opening track but still nothing to write home about, there is no music to be found. Instead we get to bask in the droning 16-bit engine depression of the driving sequences and clump clump clump of the heaviest boots in the world during the platforming. If this was done for purposes of mood immersion, it failed. Rather, I suspect, it was done out of laziness. If they at least went the route that Flashback went and added minute bursts of suspense - short 3 to 5 second clips of eeriness - that would have gone a long way to help exemplify mood if that's indeed what they were shooting for. But then, why should I expect any sort of effort given how the rest of the game is presented?

Nano-Win:

Holy crap, a win!?  It's not really a win, but it made me chuckle...probably out of pity. I love that the game has a cheat mode and then acknowledges the use of the cheat mode at the end of the game by snidely calling you out on it.

Sure thing, dicks. Your game sucked anyways.

Still, as torturous as the game was, I had to reach the end legitimately. What a worthless ending.... Should have just called it after the cheat-filled run.

Rating: 0.5 pointlessly awarded hydraulic wheel rams out of 5*

Seriously, do they do anything!?

GEN - Risk

Haiku-Review:

world domination
but there's no option to cap -
world aggravation!

Additional Comments:

Board games done up in a video game format is such a silly premise - well, to most gamers at least. To people like me who enjoy games purely as a single player venture, not so much. These electronic recreations perfectly fit the bill when I have a strange desire to play something like Chess, Monopoly, or in this case, Risk, but have no real desire to play them as traditional "family-style" board games. The best part is that's it's damn near impossible to really lose the sense of the game, no matter how reliant on other players the game may be. Board games are typically simple endeavors that can easily be imitated electronically. Unfortunately, primitively programmed AI will never compare to the real deal.

For Risk, as bound by its set of traditional rules, it never deviates from the sense that indeed what I'm playing is a perfect representation of the board game. Of course, to help alleviate potential boredom from what can be an almost mundane strategy game under certain circumstances, the player(s) are treated to either an animated scene depicting battle or a mini-game to replace the intangible dice rolls. I found this to have its pros and cons. While the actual board game can become tiring over time as borders constantly shift back and forth, Risk as a video game immediately embarks on a ride through the doldrums. Yes, its a simple, yet enjoyable strategy game...in theory, but it doesn't quite work the way games like Civilization or Nobunaga's Ambition do. The biggest difference is that these games offer a great deal of control and interaction on the player's part. Risk, however, has little to no interaction. But comparing it to the board game, its fairly identical - except perhaps for the dice rolls depending on how you play.

The problem with Risk, when you take away the social aspect of players carefully considering their front lines and proposing under-the-table treaties, the game is incredibly monotonous. Armies move here, armies move there and eventually it's all back to square one. It's a whole lot of mindless back and forth, especially if you use any sort of capping rule. But the friendly competition among friends keeps the game running and even manages to overshadow how little gameplay there actually is. In the Genesis variation of Risk, this minimal scenario can easily be seen if you chose to forego the animated sequences and/or mini-game. Sadly, I found this to be the best way to play as it quickens the pace of the game tenfold. Unfortunately, the epic feeling of the board game is lost at this point. Instead, it's just a bunch of armies quickly shifting across continents. While strategy is still there, it feels hollow. The animated sequences adds some tension, but can quickly drag the game out. I found the same to be true with the mini-game. It adds a breather to the monotony by getting the player interactively involved, but it too lacks any substance and feels as though the developers shoehorned it in at the last minute. Much like the animated sequences, it's enjoyable for a few minutes, maybe more so since the player actually has something to do here - attempt to kill the opposing armies with an infinite volley of cannonballs. But it becomes just as tiresome as the cutscenes. It's depressing that the most bare-boned, non-interactive variant exudes the most enjoyment.

My biggest gripe though is the inability to set an option to cap armies per territory. In the past, I always found capping produced better strategy while playing the board game. Allowing for unlimited armies favored how you played your cards far too heavily and where you sat in the turn rotation. Basically, the game becomes far too luck oriented as opposed to being deeply ingrained in strategy, especially in Expert mode. Eh, I suppose you could call it strategy, but putting all your eggs in one basket and hoping to blitzkrieg the entire world in a single move isn't really strategy. I call it a mad gamble. But really, this comes down to the difference between playing the computer and playing actual people. The computer's going to be far more one-sided in their tactics which in turn forces the player to become a one trick pony as well. It'll do for some fast-paced, world domination action that'll be over in a matter of turns, but frankly it disillusions the reality of what Risk is meant to be: a cunning strategy game where mighty empires fall and rise again, only to fall once more.

Overall, if you want to experience the game for what it is, play the actual board game. But if you're looking to play as a single player venture or just have some time to kill, you could do far worse. While the game is a near perfect replica, the experience isn't. However, I'm fairly confident that the multiplayer nails it on all fronts, especially given that it does allow up to the traditional six players. Still, I'd imagine being able to physically roll dice, move armies, and argue borders will trump the video game any day of the week.

Nano-Rant:

What's with some of the highly inaccurate backdrops? Greenland is a vast sandy desert, as is most of Canada? Or is Parker Brothers the almighty oracle predicting the world of tomorrow where global turmoil has annihilated the glacial icecaps and retrogressed technology forcing us to use horse-mounted cavalry once again? Who knew Risk was so post-apocalyptic?

Rating: 2 cannonballs out of 5

GEN - Sonic the Hedgehog

Haiku-Review:

total game changer
for Super Nintendo hounds -
sold! Sega for life

Additional Comments:

In the beginning, for me, was Atari with the wood-paneled 2600. My mom picked one up at a tag sale when I was around six years old and I played the hell out of it. Of course, I was clueless to the existence of a video game industry beyond my own personal 2600 collection, but that's not really the point. I was more than ecstatic with the titles I acquired - certainly no complaints here - so much so that I eventually learned to play the first stage or two of River Raid blind. Heh, nowadays, I wouldn't have the patience to master such a kooky undertaking, what with the endless plethora of gaming at my hands. Then came Nintendo with the NES. I was sad to see my Atari go, but sonuvabitch, nothing could match the incredible new gameplay of Super Mario Bros. The exponential gravitas suddenly unleashed with the power of the NES was simply unbeatable. Fair enough, and as the years passed, Nintendo placed its deathgrip stranglehold around my neck as I saw no reasonable alternative to the SNES when it was finally unleashed.

For those that grew up in the post-16-bit era of gaming, the idea of a one-console household seems like nothing more than old folklore. Especially nowadays, the idea of owning less than two of the latest and greatest is just, well...absurd. But back then, you really had to put your faith in a company knowing that only one of the magnificent altars of pleasure would rest below your TV set. Nintendo had me hooked and the idea of jumping ship to see what Sega was all about was pure blasphemy. But for a friend of mine, he decided to gamble. I remember him telling me about his decision as if he had gotten the inside line on Sega's future. If anything, between the two of us, we'd have access to both an SNES and a Genesis, so why not?

Up to this point, other than hearing a few whispers about Sega's brainchild, I knew very little. I wasn't exactly hungry to play any of these "foreign" titles - after all I had such classics as Super Mario World, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles IV, F-Zero and Sim City to keep me busy. But the day came that I decided to cross the barrier and try out this strange game known as Sonic the Hedgehog. Holy crap on a crap cracker!! I remember the day vividly. My first experience with Sonic forever changed the way I looked at video games. Sure, it's nothing more than a simple platformer, but the hyped-up speed was for real. Not only that, but the game just popped. Sega's usage of color somehow felt brighter and more alive. For the first time, doubts of Nintendo's prowess began to infect my mind. Still, I stuck with the SNES, but to have my hands on a Genesis and this wonderful game dubbed Sonic the Hedgehog....

Eventually, a Genesis made its way into my household along with the game that left me drooling for so long. To this day, the Genesis-based Sonic trilogy (I consider Sonic 3 and S&K as a single game as it was originally envisioned) is still my favorite platforming series. It's hard to say there's something out there that's better than the likes of Super Mario Bros. 3, but the Sonic series is impressively entertaining. These are games that I will never tire from, no matter how many times I play them. And believe me, I've played them an ungodly amount.

Over the years, I've had a lot of friends feed me reasons why Sonic is mediocre at best. What those reasons are, I couldn't say. I've never been able to latch onto anyone's criticism as I've often found them to hold little water and/or bear menial, biased complaints towards Sega in general. Maybe I'm just biased myself. Whatever. As far as personal sour notes, sure I grumble over the slow-as-hell elevator segments in Spring Yard Zone or the inconvenient air timer in Labyrinth Zone or the whole existence of Scrap Brain Zone 3 as a Labyrinth Zone knockoff - ok, I'm more than a bit miffed at that one. But all in all, no matter the degree of disappointment in any of the above situations, I love this game to its very core. Well, Scrap Brain Zone 3 could potentially cause a worrying wobble. Seriously, Scrap Brain Zone has the coolest gimmicks while Labyrinth Zone has the lamest. They could have done so much more with Scrap Brain's material. Oh well.

What's more to say? I suppose I could go into more detail about why I think this game is awesome. The thing is, it's just that - it's simply put, awesome! The levels, the themes, the physics, the replayability, the exploration, the graphics, the music, it's all so amazing. I feel as though I'm snubbing the game in a way; sort of overlooking the technicality of it all and instead opting to fill most of this post with backstory. But in a way, that's part of the magic of Sonic the Hedgehog, for me at least. Not only is the game massively impressive and brilliantly fun to play, the game presented itself to me as that initial step into gaming beyond Nintendo. It got me out of my comfort zone and dared me to explore what else was out there. Nintendo's selection felt expected whereas Sega's repertoire danced the ragged edge. If it wasn't for that, I probably wouldn't have moved on to the new and intriguing Sony Playstation; instead having kept my fingers crossed that Nintendo would once again hit one out of the park with its over-hyped Shitbox-64. Point is, how many other games have I been able to accredit with laying an incredible foundation for the future of gaming or somehow shaping it in a way yet unforeseen? Super Mario Bros. and...uh.... To make a comparison, despite my personal opinions on the matter, Sonic the Hedgehog did for me what I think Super Mario 64 did for the vast majority of gamers. Ok, so it's just another 2D platformer, but back in the day, it really was so much more than that and I think that's something that people, especially kids, nowadays will never understand.

Nano-Win:

There is absolutely no way I can finish this post without showcasing some music. Across the board, Sonic 1, 2 and 3/K, music is a thing of pure beauty. I know most all of the songs by heart and can typically hum any of them at a drop of a hat. Is that a good thing? Who knows? The entire soundtrack of Sonic the Hedgehog is golden and ideally I'd just list the entire thing. In fact, I think I will - WONG!! - but the songs that really strike my fancy are Marble Zone, Star Light Zone, and Scrap Brain Zone. Pure fucking win!!!

Rating: 5 CPU's out of 5

GEN - Jeopardy!

Haiku-Review:

wagers of knowledge,
posing questions to answers -
really, a haiku?

Additional Comments:

Seriously though, is there any reason to write anything about this game? Jeopardy is Jeopardy is Jeopardy is Jeopardy, no matter the format or trivial differences found therein, except for Super Jeopardy. Ok, I'll concede that it's Jeopardy, but come on GameTek, since when does Jeopardy have four players? Granted, I'm unfamiliar with the show's pre-Trebek era, circa '64-75 and/or '78-'79, but that's neither here nor there. Besides, why toy with an already proven format? And this goes for any version of Jeopardy.

Now, I was chatting with a couple friends over the prospect of "finishing" Jeopardy and doing a write-up. The whole idea is asinine, but already knowing my eclectic list of games, I felt it only just to push my way into gaming's left field, especially after something as epic as Ocarina of Time. (Hmm, perhaps I should in turn follow this up with Hatris on the NES.) On top of that, can one really "finish" Jeopardy? I suppose a winning round is all you need. Then again, what of the 100% completion status? It feels like the Burger Time scenario all over again, or my far from fruitful Crystal Castles venture - damn you, 2600 and your many modes! With countless clues and categories, I could likely spend the equivalency of a real Jeopardy season until I've physically witnessed and answered, er...questioned every clue. Therefore it was time to come up with a compromise once again, much like the unbeatable titles of the points-based era. The most logical solution was to utilize the pre-2003 champions' ruling in which the champion would be retired after five consecutive victories. Not only does this tie in directly with the televised version of the game show, but it places a fair enough limiter to keep the game enjoyable long enough without becoming instantly stale by consistently repeating categories. Ha! Guess the joke's on me. I still had the pleasure of answering the same damn five clues within the Admirals category in six out of my seven games. Yes, I get it, the answers are: Christopher Columbus, John Paul Jones, Richard Byrd, George Dewey, and Hyman Rickover. I now have five more menial tidbits of information about historic admirals drilled deeper into my memory than I've ever cared to acknowledge. Now please, for the love of god, give me some different categories! Other culprits of repetition included the 1930's, Hunting, and Rocks & Minerals. (Insert gun-to-head emoticon here.) And the only reason I had to play seven games as opposed to a quick five, you may ask? Simply put, I wagered a large amount of money on a Daily Double during my second game and foolishly believed that a clover and a shamrock are one in the same. Son of a bitch! Wait a minute, they are the same!!!!

Interestingly, and most definitely sad to admit, I read various Jeopardy reviews posted around the net - namely for those titles that appeared on the various 8 and 16-bit systems. I did so out of curiosity's sake more than anything. After all, as I already wondered, what does one write about? A lot of them complained about the most incredibly mundane details, which I'll be the first to admit that I do that myself, but decrying the staleness of the white-on-blue clue screens or the limited avatar selection is a bit silly given what were dealing with here as a game. Pissing and moaning over the quality of a given answer though, that's another matter entirely. Again, a clover and a shamrock are the same fucking thing!!!

Honestly, there's nothing that takes away from the premise of the game. As long as it has two rounds of six categories with five clues each with increasing wager amounts as well as a single-shot final round and you're having to provide answers in question form to clues provided, then you're playing Jeopardy. SNL's Celebrity Jeopardy is still Jeopardy. Sixth grade science class Jeopardy is still Jeopardy. It's all Jeopardy. The integrity of the game may be somewhat lost in translation along the way, but it's still the same game at its core, much like the copious amounts of Monopoly's that flood the touristy gift shops of the world.

Ah! But there is a "mundane" detail that I wish to rail. Why, oh why, does the computer insist on attempting every clue - and not just one, but both computer controlled players. This needlessly drags a game out for far too long. Add to that, they don't bother ringing in until the timer hits zero. Talk about head-pounding aggravation, here it is in all its torturous glory. It doesn't only lead to a prolonged game; it also leads to a fairly well assured situation of a two-participant Final Jeopardy. Six out of my seven games, one of the computer players ended up in the negative early on and only made things worse as the game progressed as they felt the need to answer everything they possibly could whether they knew the answer or not. I suppose I shouldn't complain - easier victory for me - but it really takes away from the whole idea of gambling away your knowledge on 50's TV, Famous Baseball Quotes, or 17th Century British Naval Officers. Ok, maybe I made those last two up, but still.

Final Jeopardy:

It's the number of occurrences that Jeopardy's namesake appears within its post entire.

Rating: 2.5 shamrocks out of 5

GEN - ToeJam & Earl

Haiku-Review:

sneak up on Santa
before he rockets away -
more presents for me!

Additional Comments:

Along with Sonic the Hedgehog, ToeJam & Earl is one of my earliest Genesis gaming memories. And where Sonic wowed me with its speed, ToeJam & Earl won me over with its innovative approach to two player co-op - not only allowing the two players to wander in separate directions via split screen, but also allowing the players to exist on differing levels if an unfortunate fall should occur, allowing continuous play without needlessly stalling the game or causing jumps through time and space to bring the two players back together - although, there is the Togetherness present. Despite the mechanic, which allowed for twice as much ground to be covered in the same amount of time, I remember whenever my friend and I played this game as kids that he was real adamant that we stuck together out of fear of death and eventual game over. For me, that always took the joy out of playing the game in two player mode. Instead of two intrepid alien explorers wandering across the floating mazes of Earth, it just felt like one unfortunate guinea pig to lure the evil Earthlings away from the other, more funky, present-grabbing money-grubber. It reminds me of "playing" Tails in Sonic the Hedgehog 2, because someone convinced you it is indeed a two player co-op game and that "don't worry, it'll be a lot of fun!" No, it's a one player game with someone along for the ride to act as the first player's early warning defense system. Lame.

Nevertheless, my belief is that this game is best played with two players. But that does not discredit the game's single player experience. Just as much fun can be had, especially with the game's ability to randomize level layouts, creating an infinite replayability factor. Sure, Fixed World presents a fun and challenging affair, and in my opinion is the preferred mode to legitimately "win" the game, but the real allure of the game is to be found in Random World. Of course, true randomization is pretty much impossible within the parameters of old generation games, but ToeJam & Earl manages the feat rather competently. Pulling the "safety net" out from under the player creates a whole new challenge with each playthrough. Other than understanding the fundamental proximity and attack patterns of each enemy sprite, there's really nothing to rely on as far as level memorization - i.e., ship locations, elevator locations etc. The ability to randomize each level furthers the exploration aspect of the game, especially when it comes to using the Icarus Wings, or to a lesser degree, the Rocket Skates or Super Hi-Tops.

Which brings me to my next point: presents. I've always loved the item usage in this game. In a way, the game reminds me of the Earthworm Jim series, although the Earthworm Jim games were developed some two years later. Like the Earthworm Jim games, ToeJam & Earl has that certain sense of madness and oddball humor throughout. If it's not the Earthlings themselves that radiate this bizarre aura - Earthlings like the Nerdherd, a roving stampede of geeks; or Chickens with Mortars, firing tomatoes with deadly accuracy - then it's the presents. A cornucopia of goofy gifts await ToeJam or Earl's needs. From the aforementioned Super Hi-Tops, to a jammin' Boombox; from a set of Rosebushes to the precarious Tomato Rain, presents offer up some of the strangest power-ups I've ever seen in a game. And although an annoyance, I enjoy the fact that both good and bad presents exist. Not everything is a benefit, as with the Tomato Rain or even worse, the Bummer - woe to those who unwrap a Bummer. Sure, it creates an unwarranted danger or even cheap death, although it can easily be avoided by just dropping the unwanted gifts, but it adds to the peculiar wackiness attributed to the game.

And if all that wasn't enough, throw in a soundtrack that sounds like a DJ Jazzy Jeff record or something Eric B. would piece together, tracks like Funkotronic Beat or Elevator Beats; add some bright, colorful backdrops during the level load screens, and this game easily takes top step as one of the zaniest games ever made. With the music and art direction, the game was spot on for the early 90s, but sadly, now it's nothing more than a quirky little period piece exploiting 90s hip-hop and embracing a clever exploration element that once seemed so rare in console games. Overall, it's a great game; one of my earliest and fondest memories of the Sega Genesis, and one of the coolest two player games I've ever played.

Nano-Rant:

Several of the Earthlings definitely have their annoyances: the Phantom Ice Cream Truck's speed, the Mole's pilfering hands or the Boogie Man's...well, the Boogie Man, but I've got to say, damn, I hate Tornadoes. It amazes me how every time, without fail, those things will dump me over the vast emptiness of space forcing me to drop down a level.

Rating: 4.5 Wahines out of 5

GEN - Castle of Illusion Starring Mickey Mouse

Haiku-Review:

City of Vera?
it that part of Disney lore?
not that I'm aware

Additional Comments:

Another classic Genesis title that received some heavy play when I was growing up. It seems that I just can't say enough about the 8-bit/16-bit Disney titles, especially the games that appeared on the Genesis. And just like the other Disney platformers of the day, this one followed suit with some clever level design, albeit compared to greats like Quackshot or Aladdin, Castle of Illusion does feel a tad clunky at times, but not enough to hamper gameplay by any means.

Now, as a kid, I'm fairly certain I made it as far as Mizrabel in Normal mode - at least I vaguely remember seeing that boss battle, although I don't recall the Dungeon Boss battle at all. But then, it's also been close to 15 years since I last put in a real solid effort regarding this game. I recall throwing it in my Genesis a couple years back out of nostalgic reasons yet other than the Toy Palace, I remembered next to nothing, which made me question whether or not I was even thinking of the same game. I can only imagine this to be nothing more than a mass confusion of hypothetical gaming elements from a vast collection of illusionary games that only exist within my own faded memory of platformers from the forgotten past. Needless to say, although there's the real possibility I may have beaten the game as a kid, I somehow doubt it.

Whatever the verdict, the game is now beaten on all three difficulties - well, I'm not sure Practice even counts as a difficulty here. Practice, unlike most games in which it would be dubbed Easy, is just that: practice - think Training Mode from Starfox. Although all of the traditional gameplay elements are present, including death, practice is a far more appropriate term than the typical "easy" or "novice." The levels are basically flat, boring swaths devoid of anything truly dangerous, with each stage (of which only three of the five are represented) consisting of only a single area. Because of this, and how long it had been since I put a genuine effort into the game, I half expected the same increase in gameplay between Normal and Hard mode (eg an increase from five stages to seven). But no - just extra sprites placed with deadly precision, less starting energy, and a total lack of harvestable ammunition - the coup de grâce of game mode mechanics.

Anyways, much like its Disney contemporaries, Castle of Illusion has some great music, such as the Enchanted Forest Substage, which incidentally is my favorite area in the game - I only wish they had expanded on that area a little more. Other notable tracks include the Title Theme and Dessert Factory. Graphically, the levels are fantastic, again having to point fingers at the Enchanted Forest Substage. And then, as far as level gimmicks, I have to make mention of the gravity switch in the Toy Palace. Of course, nothing new, so I suspect - not sure which game first showcased such a gimmick - it's cool nonetheless. I do have to point out my dismay over the Clock Tower area though. As awesome as that area is - second favorite area in the game - it feels unfinished at times. I'm disappointed that the horizontal rotating gears don't affect movement as well as confused and frustrated over some of the spinning gears in which the physical movement doesn't seem to match the animation. I don't know how many times I got thrown over the wrong side of the gear because it looked like it was spinning one way only to throw me the other. :(

Rating: 3 jumping A's out of 5

GEN - Quackshot Starring Donald Duck

Haiku-Review:

fearing neither death,
danger, nor Daisy to quest
the Great Duck Treasure

Additional Comments:

Another Genesis title that I loved when I was younger and still do. As much as I've always enjoyed DuckTales for the NES, Quackshot lifted the treasure-hunting premise centered around the feathered community of Duckburg to a whole new level. And once again, like most of the other Disney titles on the Genesis, Sega presented a nearly flawless Disney-based platformer without Capcom's branding.

The biggest difference between DuckTales and Quackshot, although Quackshot is really the big brother of the Lucky Dime Caper released on the Master System and Game Gear, however, is that Donald has taken the reins of the protagonist, and as much as I like Scrooge playing the part in the NES game, Donald just seems to fit the bill so much better. Of course, there are some peculiarities present such as Donald's weaponry: plungers to stun your enemies or popcorn/bubblegum to kill your enemies - huh? - but I've got to say thumbs up for the Temper gauge. Not only does the idea of Donald blowing his top just work so perfectly with his persona, but it's a really clever take on the common invincibility gimmick used in so many platformers. Come on, Donald bursts into a fit of rage, swinging his fists like a mad cyclone, knocking everyone off their feet. Now that's awesome! Additional win: the gauge transfers from level to level.

Another thing I've always like about this game is that although it's a completely linear game, it doesn't necessarily have a linear feel since you have to travel between locations to collect items to open passages in other locations. Of course, if you know what you need from the start, you're prone to take the path of least resistance, but to someone playing it for the first time, they might feel compelled to explore the various locales at their own pace, opening up the door for a more thorough non-linear playthrough. For me, I played the straightforward route, although Maharajah did trip me up a bit - after all, it has been a number of years since I've played this. I remember being able to that stupid door maze with no issue. I don't know how many times I found myself back in the first room this time around. Oh well.

Anyways, I have to admit, I've never actually beaten the game in the past - at least, I'm pretty certain I haven't. I know I've at least made it as far as Pete's Gang's Hideout. Beyond that I don't have much recollection. Some of the stuff on Great Duck Treasure Island looks familiar, as does the Guardian, but seriously, I do not remember that battle against Pete - so, who knows? Either way, it's beaten now, so the past is moot. And as I said, I relished playing through the game now just as much as I ever had, and for me, this game is yet another title that proves why the Genesis was a force to be reckoned with during its heyday.

And finally, I've got to say something about the graphics and music. I love the graphics in this game - all of the backgrounds are so beautifully drawn, although some of the multi-scrolling in the backgrounds, especially in Mexico, looks rather awkward - as if they didn't properly prepare their tilesets to handle said scrolling, but whatever. And then there's the music. Simply put, it's fantastic; some of my favorites being the Map Screen, Maharajah, Transylvania and Room 2.

Rating: 4 BOOM's out of 5

GEN - Golden Axe

Haiku-Review:

war on a turtle
cast magic on an eagle
bring it on, Bringer

Additional Comments:

When it comes to some serious beat 'em action and hair-pulling, wall-punching, controller-throwing difficulty, this game delivers. Now, I've played Golden Axe II for the Genesis countless times, and I've only toyed briefly with Golden Axe III, but I'm not sure if I've ever played the first one, although I have played one of the Golden Axes in the arcade, and I want to say it might have been this one - not totally sure, but whatever.

This game definitely excels in difficulty compared to the second one. Despite the agonizing torture this game just put me through, it's still everything I remember and loved about the Golden Axe series and I enjoyed playing every minute of it - erm, almost every minute of it. The battle against Death Bringer is a different story entirely. I was fighting him for a good thirty minutes or so before I began to suspect that perhaps his skeleton guards are indestructible. Well, they're not, but they're pretty damn close to it and I blame all my frustration solely on them. Ok, the battle's really not that bad once you figure out the proper tactics on how to bring down the Bringer, but until then, it's hell.

I'm not entirely sure if there's a difference in HP and attack power for each sprite between Beginner mode and Arcade mode, but it definitely seemed to be a substantial jump in difficulty, but maybe that's just me. It's not so much that Arcade mode played that much harder, but that Beginner mode seemed to be too much of a breeze. Of course there's the game length differences, but that's beside the point. Duel mode, which I often enjoyed playing through in the sequel, is still just as enjoyable here. Though it definitely keeps you on your toes since you only get 8 life bars to play with through all 12 rounds whereas in the sequel I believe your life would get replenished.

All in all, the game is hard, but fun - the classic beat 'em up with a brilliant fantasy twist that is uniquely Golden Axe. It owned in the arcades, and it still delivers on the home console. But I have to ask this one question, is it just me or are the levels really short? Well, while the jury's out on that one, let's listen to some classic Golden Axe music with Wilderness.

Nano-Rant:

Oh my god, why does it always feel like the player character and enemy sprites are suffering some sort of magnetic repulsion? I go up, they go down. I go down, they go up. What the fuck are you guys so antsy about!? Arggghhh!!!!

Rating: 3 Longmoan's out of 5

GEN - Disney's Aladdin

Haiku-Review:

what makes me wonder
about the Cave of Wonders:
why the panther head?

Additional Comments:

Another fabulous Disney platformer by Virgin Interactive; I remember playing this game countless times growing up. I always thought of it as one of those games that's not overly difficult, is really fun to play and just held its own when it came to replay value. Every level, based on various scenes from the movie, is beautifully drawn and incorporates interesting design - especially Sultan's Dungeon or Inside the Lamp. Even the music is great, and whether or not you liked the movie soundtrack, hearing everything driven through Sega's gritty sound engine presents a fresh take on some of the better known tunes. However, some of my personal favorites are Turban Jazz or Arab Rock.

What appears to be a trend among games developed by Virgin, the difficulty curve between each mode seems rather negligible. Yea, there are some added sprites here and there, but overall, much like Lion King, the curve seemed to be pretty shallow across the board. Also, something I should point out: much like Lion King, I decided to play the Genesis version, for again the same reasons as previously stated in that game's review. However, although I have dabbled with the SNES version, I never realized that it's a completely different game. Not only that, but the SNES version was developed by Capcom, and appears to be the last of the the Capcom/Disney games. Hmm, I always thought the SNES version just happened to be a weak port of Sega's (shows what happens when you play the game haphazardly, not even realizing the absence of the scimitar), but this puts a whole new perspective on everything. Well, now I'll have to give the SNES version an actual go.

Rating: 4 magic carpets out of 5

GEN - The Lion King

Haiku-Review:

from cub to adult,
a well done adaptation
from movie to game

Additional Comments:

Another Genesis title I had growing up; I think outside of the NES Capcom era of Disney games, this is one of the best - and not only that, I'd probably rank this as my 4th fave Disney Game, just behind Chip n' Dale: Rescue Rangers, Duck Tales and just only being squeaked out by Aladdin. On top of that, perhaps other than Toy Story, this is probably one of the best movie to video game adaptations out there, which is saying something when you think about the 8-bit/16-bit gaming era and the stereotype, which sadly is true, that movie adaptations make for the worst games. Well, not here. The game is not only an incredible platformer, but also has a rather unique gameplay style since you play as a lion.

The game follows the movie fairly close, starting with young Simba and of course ending with adult Simba fighting Scar. However, one thing I found rather odd, especially concerning young/adult Simba, is when it came to the three different difficulty modes. Now, it may just be that I got use to it, but it seems the difficulty modes only affect young Simba since the Hyenas and Vultures appear to be the only creatures that follow any sort of difficulty curve (1 additional hit per). If the difficulty did indeed affect adult Simba in any fashion - well, you've got me.

On the topic of difficulty, as a kid, I never actually beat this game because I could never figure out how to kill Scar. Come to find out, you can maul - huh, I don't think I ever knew that. Well, that's what happens when you don't have the manual and wonderful places like GameFAQs don't exist. Nevertheless, Scar's still a tough son of a bitch, but that's mostly because I really didn't grasp the maul/throw technique until the third playthrough on Difficult mode.

I chose to play this on the Genesis as opposed to the SNES for two reasons: one, I grew up playing this game on the Genesis, and two, when it comes to cross-platform games, I typically always prefer the Genesis version because of Sega's sound engine. The thick, chunky basses and raw, growling synths always won my heart over the smoother, more presentable instruments of the SNES.

Be Prepared (Genesis Version)
Be Prepared (SNES Version)

It's no contest - the SNES version, to me, just sounds like garbage - and really out of tune at that.

Rating: 3.5 bugs out of 5