Flash - Glorg

Haiku-Review:

one button madness
disguised as an RPG
and one-eyed hero

Additional Comments:

Glorg! Glorg Glorg Glorg Glorg Glorg! Glorg!!

Now that that's out my system, it's time to complain about Flash games once again. Huzzah!

To be honest, unlike most of my endeavors into Flash games: boredom or a passing nudge from a friend saying, "Hey! Check this ridiculous game out," I stumbled upon Glorg in a rather unexpected way. I was trawling through the BCRecommender - a marvelous little site where you can randomly find great music on Bandcamp via other people's collective musical interests. It's all quite random, which I love, and helps dig up some stuff I'd likely never discover through Bandcamp's own rather limited search ability using arbitrary methods like tags and such.  Glad the function at least exists, but capping it annoys me to no end. Anyway, while indiscriminately rummaging through a flood music, I came across a mini EP by Danny Baranowsky: the soundtrack to something called Glorg. This immediately caught my interest because unlike the great wealth of music found on Bandcamp, this was a composer I recognized thanks his Binding of Isaac soundtrack. After a quick listen, I was more than satisfied with what I heard and downloaded it, but not only that, it struck enough of an interest to hunt down the curious, keytar-adorned, purple Cyclops and learn what his claim to fame is. Just who or what is this Glorg?

Didn't take long to track him down. Instantly, my curiosity was further piqued when I read Glorg was the hero of a game; the basic description of which described it as a one button RPG. Sold! The game stirred up memories of Super Press Space to Win Adventure RPG 2009. Despite that game being an extreme example of minimalism; to the point where it was downright silly, I loved the premise behind it. Minimalist games force developers to rethink common tropes and mechanics. Granted, Super Press Space to Win can be considered not only a satirical twist on gaming in general, but probably even on the single button genre as well. Single button games aren't new by any means - consider anything from the 2600. Though you could argue the technicality of it by pointing out most 2600 games made use of the joystick as well. Super Press Space to Win only used a single input - the space bar. Fair enough. And to help back the argument, Glorg makes, eh...mediocre use of a single button as well. I can only credit Glorg with caution as to the quality of gameplay when it comes to its use of a single input as at times it can be highly dubious and rather frustrating.

But what is Glorg? Glorg is a one-eyed warrior trying to make his way through a series of dungeons, clearing the path of evil denizens with anything he can find, quite possibly including the kitchen sink. Through his perilous quest, he can explore, fight, heal, collect treasure, and play a game of hot potato with some walking calculators. And he can do it all with the single press of a button. Well, that's not right, because sometimes you have to hold the button, or rapidly smash the button, or simply release the button. Ah! The downfall of a single button game rears its ugly head.

Here's the thing: Glorg really isn't that bad of a game. The difficulty is on the easier side, or at least technically it's on the easier side, and the game makes decent use of randomization. As an RPG, though an RPG that is stripped down to its core, it can be hard to come to terms with a single button format. Unlike Super Press Space to Win, where the game defined linearity to the point that it was obvious it was trolling you by having RPG in the title, Glorg is sincere. Super Press Space to Win's sense of RPGness and video game sensibility is totally blown out of proportion and results in something entirely jokey. Glorg tries to adhere to RPG canon in a more traditional sense as well as proper gaming values. You can improve your weapons as you quest, sell off weapons of lesser quality, heal when necessary, collect a bevy of loot, and level periodically. However, there's one caveat. The player has zero control over any of these elements. As such, any sense of Glorg being an RPG is nearly as vapid as Super Press Space to Win, except Glorg finds a way to present it in such a way that it attempts to give semblance to conventional RPG mechanics.

A lot of Glorg is out of the player's hands. In fact, the only thing the player really has control over is the fighting. The player has no say over which weapon he uses or when he can heal. If weapon B is greater in skill than weapon A, then Glorg will auto wield weapon B. Even if weapon A was previously better than a facsimile of weapon B two chests ago? Yes, because weapons are apparently assigned a randomized stat as opposed to every Witch Kettle being better than a Dead Mouse. I guess some dead mice are just more powerful than we're lead on to believe. Perhaps rigor mortis is creating some truly hardened rodents. But none of it really matters as I'm pretty sure each weapon is just assigned a randomized humorous name and the player has no control over the system anyway, so why nitpick? Same with healing, Glorg heals when the game has decided Glorg has lost enough health to initiate a heal sequence; if you have an available med kit.

But enough of the discriminating details. Let's discuss the one element where the player has some definitive input: combat. Combat is easy enough to understand. You can hold for a charge, release to hit or click to block. It's all quite simple really, except when clicks and releases start getting confused by the game and you accidentally try to hit the enemy when you're trying to block or vice versa. And straight up, blocking in this game sucks. Attempting to block a charged attack is tough because there's no indication of the type of charge the enemy is doing. If the enemy charges there's a very good chance you're going to fail the block. Typically, at least in my case, you either throw a block too early while they're performing a full charge, or you wait while it turns out their charge was just a ruse and instead they throw a weakly charged attack. And you can't just spam blocks because either there's an inherent cool down happening behind the scenes (which I'm fairly certain does exist) or you're falling victim to basic click/release tomfoolery. Sparring as a whole is quite easy, but I think most of my deaths came to misinterpreting charged attacks. And once you fail a block, you typically begin to spiral into defeat as the strikes suddenly keep coming and the game begins to misinterpret your mad frenzy of clicks and releases as a desperate means to stay alive. These are the times you wish a second button existed to help differentiate the basic mechanics of combat. Stay out of a death spiral, however, and the game's a breeze. Sounds logical - don't get hit, but a single hit can easily disrupt the flow of combat and bring you to your knees if you're not careful. Same can be said for the tennis matches with the walking TI-81s. I think I was on the second to last level before I realized you can mash yourself out of a daze. Was wondering what the mash function described in the intro was for. Neglect mashing the button and the TI-81s will get a free hit in every time they hit you, and they hit strong.

All in all, Glorg's rather enjoyable for what it offers. It pretty much delivers exactly what it advertises, nothing more, nothing less. The common complaint seems to me monotony, and I get it. Maybe the developer backed himself into a corner going the one button route, but is it really any more monotonous than a cheap copy pasta turn-based RPG? Not really. Attack, heal, loot, move on - rinse and repeat. Pretty much the formula of any turn-based RPG, and exactly that here. Besides, considering half the shit put out by the RPG Maker community; at least Glorg is trying something different, something, perhaps, a bit rash. But it should also be said, Glorg's a time killer - the natural result of being a Flash game. It's a game that can be beaten in roughly an hour tops and is best played as a coffee break distraction - five minutes here, five minutes there kind of thing. I'd recommend the game as something to try, or as an experience in gaming minimalism, or a chance to enjoy a fantastic soundtrack. Or you can just grab the soundtrack for free over on Danny Baranowsky's Bandcamp page...or for any amount of your choosing to help tell Danny B., "Please make more amazing music, kthxbai."

Nano-Rant:

Likely the best thing about Glorg is its music, however, the game appeared to be plagued by a nasty bug that kept preventing the music from playing every now and then. Only when you traveled to a new area that played a different track would the music start playing again. For those ranting about how monotonous the game already is, once you strip away the music, the game practically becomes a trivial act of repetitious mouse clicking equatable to banging your head against the wall. Explore. Explore. Explore. Explore. Bleh....

Nano-Win

There is some badass box art that exists for this game, though I'm uncertain of its legitimacy as I can only find one site that even refers to it. Ah well.

Rating: 2.5 hot potato playing TI-81s out of 5

XB1 - Earthlock: Festival of Magic

Haiku-Review:

O, silly rabbit,
don't you know Trix are for kids?
Oh! wait, wrong rabbit

Additional Comments:

Here's to hoping I can recall everything I wished to discuss, but considering how much time has elapsed since I finished this game, the details are anyone's guess.

Acquired through Games with Gold, I pounced on this game immediately since there are so few RPGs on the XBox One. There are a couple that came out over a year ago that piqued my interest but just never got around to picking them up. Certainly, making a game free makes it so much easier to nab a game. And though I initially had doubts based on a few pics, after a few quick minutes of  in-game footage, I was sold. Old school RPGs seem to be such a rare thing outside of PCs. Why is that? When did console users choose to scorn turn-based RPGs other than the miserable pieces of crap starring the same old emotionally abused androgynous jerk-offs that Squaresoft keeps passing off as Final Fantasy?

Ok, Earthlock technically isn't an old school RPG, but it appears to have far more kinship with RPGs of yore than today's overblown trash. Despite separating itself from its ancestors, especially through the use of 3D maps and environments, Earthlock kept stirring memories of Chrono Trigger. Perhaps it was the same cliché tropes used over and over again, and true, those same old tropes become tiring, but at the same time, they help to invigorate the game through lapses of nostalgia. Unlike numerous other titles that attempt to reap the benefits of creating Chrono Trigger 2.0 or Final Fantasy IV reimagined, Earthlock distanced itself by creating an entirely alien environment. It still rehashed the same old kernels of the old world sowing the way for the new world through magical destruction - here the case being eternal day/eternal night and the same characteristic party sporting the same conventional traits saving the fate of the world by using the tools of the past. It's all been done before, and quite possibly, to death. But there was enough of a rift among the pedestrian RPG outline through imaginative details elsewhere in the world to make it feel different enough.

Unfortunately, Earthlock nearly shot itself in the foot right out of the gate. The beginning of the game felt laborious enough to warrant it undeserving of my time. The initial character we're introduced to, Ive, is a such an eye-rolling, self centered, twat that I nearly put the game down for good before I even made it five minutes in. Throughout the whole of the game, I loathed anytime a cutscene popped or I had to make use of her because of how despicably arrogant she was. Of course, she's the king's daughter, so what can you expect, but still, there's no getting around how off putting a character of this caliber is and having to deal with her the entire game absolutely killed much of the praise the game could have gotten. Ive is easily one of the worst characters I've come across in any game, equatable to Kara from Illusion of Gaia. Given the game's introduction, I had to seriously question the game's intentions when they wished me to rescue her from the wreckage. Fuck her! I don't want that contemptuous bitch in my party. It's moments like these that make me hanker for freedom of choice and lend me to admire many of today's western RPGs. I don't have to suffer through bullshit because of lack of choice. If the choice existed to help Ive or to simply walk away, I would have walked away in a second. Up until that point, or even throughout the rest of the game, there was never a moment that nudged me into accepting her despite her personality deficiencies. And it's hard to invest oneself into a game that has such a disagreeable character. Some level of empathy must exist, especially in story rich or character heavy games, to agree to or accept the circumstances as presented, but when a character like Ive exists, much like Kara, it's hard to overlook and can inevitable affect the enjoyment factor of the game. Although you do get Taika out of the deal, so....

Earthlock was lucky to win me over with a variety of mechanics, namely the talent board and bond system, but characters continued to be a stumbling block for the game. Each one of them felt vapid, and despite all efforts to differentiate themselves from RPG stereotypes, still fell subject to their cliché personalities. Gnart, who may have been the most dynamic characters was also one of the most tiring only because he followed the typical goofball sidekick trope thrown in for comedic effect - sure, he had some knowledge and an intriguing past, but he's liable to open mouth insert foot for a non-quality laugh to help lighten the mood and make us say, "Oh, you silly rabbit. You and your silly stories." It's stale, and it's unfortunate since out of the whole lot, Gnart's histroy, as well as that of his people would easily be the most interesting to read up on.

Olia, on the other hand, comes off as a waste. She brings brute muscle, which from a gameplay aspect is greatly welcomed, but her story is done to death. Squaresoft has given us enough of the brooding heroes who'd rather keep their past to themselves while we as players struggle to connect with these detached individuals. You're giving me nothing to work with here outside of strong-arming the competition. Eh, I suppose that's enough.

But enough of weak character portrayal. Let's delve into actual gameplay. Upon first glance, Earthlock feels a bit too rigid and leans far too much on traditional RPG values. Nothing exactly wrong with that, but it certainly did little to help sell the game. Sure, I started out by whining how so few traditional turn-based RPGs exist these days on consoles, but at the same time, I don't wish to play the same old tiring mechanics. Developers need to integrate new ideas to help invigorate old traditions and Earthlock failed to do that upon initial inspection. But once you get into the game and some of the more interesting mechanics open up, Earthlock begins to set itself apart. True, likenesses of the talent board or bond system have shown up in past titles, but they felt fresh, locked into a combination that helped us to look past the tried and true mechanics of the RPGs of yesteryear.

However, Earthlock definitely made some missteps in its hopes to individualize itself. Crafting was likely the biggest misstep of all as it completely nullified the use of the shop system. Despite my natural tendency to steer clear of shops in RPGs simply to increase the difficulty, I found the shop system in Earthlock to be completely unnecessary. If I can craft anything and everything and I can easily obtain any of the crafting materials from the various denizens of the world, why would I ever stop at the local market? Something few games have ever managed to properly balance is the coexistence of crafting and shop systems. More often than not, one negates the other and Earthlock may have been the greatest example of this problem.

Not only did crafting bring down the world market, but crafting befell its own niggles. At first, I kind of liked the idea of growing a garden from which I could craft various ammos or potions - all items of which I pretty much never used throughout the entire game, but I'll come to that later. It gave the game a tiny slice of a Harvest Moon feel. I hate to admit it, but Harvest Moon, or similar games have a joyfully addicting quality to them, so to see Earthlock integrate this, even on a bare minimum level, was cool. Turns out, I used the garden for nothing more than an achievement hunter effect. When that's the case, it should be blatantly obvious the mechanic was added without much forethought. Honestly, it was boring as hell to sit there clicking on plants for close to an hour or more trying to mutate a certain species only to find out after turning to GameFAQs to see if I was victim of a bug, that for one single mutation, they completely deviated from the norm in that you had to kill an optional boss. What the fuck? If Ive didn't annoy the piss out of me enough, shit like this happens - counter-intuitive garbage that suddenly diverges from everything we've learned up until that point.

What's more, the game suffered from various other counter-intuitive faults. Another one that nearly sent me over the edge was figuring out how to use my fifth through eighth abilities. The tutorials describe, fairly well, how to use the various menus and actions but failed to mention how to reach your next page of abilities. With my abilities tab grayed out, I wouldn't have guessed in a million years that I could still press the tab to find more abilities. Grayed out means the operation has come to an end; there's no more forward momentum here. It's the fucking clock in Where's Waldo? all over again. They're going against everything we've ever learned in gaming over the past 30 years. I only realized how to use those abilities by sheer accident after having left the room for a couple minutes and upon returning, picked up the controller and accidentally nudged the joystick in the right direction. That then led me to spend the next several minutes trying to replicate my accident. All be told, this event didn't happen until well over halfway through the game, so yea, I spent well over half the game believing the tutorial lied to me - that it was written for the PC version and they neglected to translate this one section for the Xbox.

And it doesn't end there! Figuring out how to upgrade Pat to Pat 2,0 was a total nightmare. I have all the necessary ingredients but...I can't craft the fucking token!? Oh! I've got to remove the original tokens. Well, that's real fucking obvious!

It's sad. There's many aspects of the game I loved, but far too often the game hit me out of left field with some half-assedness. And it's simple things they managed to botch. Fortunately, nothing's game breaking, but the annoyance level some of this stuff managed to induce is astronomical. Many of these faults so nearly made me shelve the game, but many of these things happened so late in the game that the time invested would prove nothing but waste and I hated the prospect of walking away from it when I was that far into the game - like I had reached a point of no return and was relegated to accepting my fate. Besides, the good qualities continued to coax me on - qualities like making best strategic use of the various bond configurations or the fact that I was playing a turn-based RPG that didn't rely on cyclical healing. Sure, healing was critical in certain battles, but it wasn't an absolute that I had to rely on throughout the entire game unlike most turn-based RPGs. And while most battles were nothing more than tests to dole out damage as fast as possible, a number of battles popped up that allowed me to make use of some of my other abilities thus forcing some underlying strategy throughout.

However, that being said, many abilities came off as superfluous. As mentioned before, how crafting ammo was a complete waste, I found few battles where a reliance on ammunition was a thing. The trade off for job swaps forcing me to lose a turn typically wasn't worth it, nor was the time spent crafting the ammo to begin with. Same can be said for the other characters. I pretty much ran all the characters on the one job I was comfortable with and stuck with it. The mere fact that that can be done makes the whole system moot. But then, without relying on cyclical healing or some sort of deeper element system, there was never really hope for such a system. If I can dole out enough damage with a sword just as quickly or more so than a gun, so be it. Of course, the argument can me made that it's all there for personalized customization. Fair enough. But I think with the job, or stance, system, the intent was for a more robust strategy allowance, which in my opinion backfired. They could have handled everything just as easily if everything was simply a single set of abilities allowed by a given character. I suppose it can be thought of as an offense/defense stance used in older RPGs, but at least there, you didn't have to waste a turn choosing your stance before you can make use of your allowed abilities. Instead, it seems to help fill out a common theme of implemented mechanics without much forethought.

Finally, on a personal note, I found the graphical style irksome. I loved the locale design and enemy design, but found the character design unnerving. It reminded me of the character design in Twilight Princess. Something about their looks is so off putting, and sadly with a number of characters already annoying me for one reason or another, the art direction made everything all the more tougher to digest.

I'm sure at the time of play a number of other details existed that I could have easily harangued over, but I doubt I'll remember them. They were likely minor anyways, at least compared to what I've covered here. Besides, I know what I have gone over were the major talking points I wished to hit up anyway. Perhaps I should keep a running log as I play, but alas, that would make all of this feel too much like work instead of a hobby with no return.

Suppose the last thing I can hit up is the soundtrack, but honestly, I can't remember a lick of music. I recall the music being sweet on the ears, but nothing really stood out. I know there were a couple tunes in the game I enjoyed but they obviously didn't leave a lasting mark. After refreshing myself with the soundtrack on Eiko's channel, it's sad that that's the case as there are certainly some nice gems stuck in there such as Vast Canyons, Sweltering Desert, or Dreamless Grotto, which after hearing it again I recall this being my favorite track in the game. Ah well, typical RPG fare.

Nano-Win:

One thing I did like about the game was the usage of Kickstarter funders' appellations for the ghost tag side quest. If was always interesting to see what quirky named individuals I'd come across next and a handful of them gave me a good laugh.

Nano-Rant:

Fix your fucking bestiary, and while you're at it, get some decent QA to proofread your text. There's nothing that will drag down the integrity and professionalism of a given game more than spelling and grammar mistakes. *Proofreads above editorial and hides* Eep!

Rating: 3 hogbunnies out of 5

GB - Nail 'N Scale

Haiku-Review:

occupation Q:
I've a pocket full of nails;
carpenter, I'm...not?

Additional Comments:

Along with Super Mario Land, Super Mario Land 2, and Tetris, Nail 'N Scale is one of my all time favorite Game Boy games. Part of my original collection as a kid, I remember long car trips giving these four games intensive play time - far, far more than the other few games I had, although I recall putting my fair share of time into NBA All-Star Challenge as well. I always enjoyed early era Basketball games. But that's another story, though if I ever get around to commenting on David Robinson's Supreme Court, I may just get a chance to tell it. Ah, memories.

Unlike either of the SML titles, I never made the headway in Nail 'N Scale that I did in the other two as a kid, at least nothing to boast about. Although, gaining access to Wario's castle but failing to finish it was never anything to boast about, so touché. Nevertheless, I never let the daunting task of facing Nail 'N Scale's harsh realism of one life to live do me in. Never give up! Never surrender! (Wait. Why do I know that quote from a lame, lame Tim "the Toolman" Allen movie? Ugh.) Still, the man does speak the truth. Except, eventually after having to repeat the first few levels for the nth time as you continue to try and figure out the best route in one of the later levels only to die from a combination of frustration, exhaustion, and stupidity, such sentiment is meaningless. I'll damn well give up if I choose. Hold the boat. There's a stage select ability? Why am I only just now realizing this some twenty-something years later? And of all places, I find out about it in the manual, something I know I looked at time and again years' past as I was one of those humdrum types that always found delight in leafing through the manuals. Chalk that one up to gross oversight. Sheesh.

Two larger than life railroad spikes and an affinity for high jumps (or frustratingly close but no cigar jumps in 1P Hard) is all our hero needs to scale these impossible towers. In many ways, Nail 'N Scale reminds me of Milon's Secret Castle - a good deal of navigating simplified, yet difficult block puzzles littered with one hit beasties that resurrect after a few short seconds. I've never liked the concept of enemies that can resurrect on screen like that. It's always felt like a lazy approach to difficulty, especially when you're trying to line up a jump or javelin throw only to die from an enemy suddenly coming back to life. It's annoying. I wouldn't say it's unfair, as it's never exactly unfair, but there is definitely aggravation under certain situations lest you keep moving.

Also like Milon's Secret Castle, Nail 'N Scale has a large focus on destroying blocks in order to advance, although often is the case in this game, you don't want to destroy the blocks. This calls for either clever hoarding and usage of white spikes or incredible fleet of foot. In 1P Easy, this isn't so much the case as you can afford to take your time and strategize. 1P Hard doesn't allow for such luxuries with a 3 minute timer and, especially in the late game stages, the timer really hammers on the pressure to make quality jumps on your initial attempts. Stages that specifically call for climbing inverted slopes or staircases are pure misery. That 3 minute timer isn't helping anybody as you really need to be on your A game with button presses to make those impossible jumps in quick succession. Oh, and as I mentioned before, your jump height has been nerfed in 1P Hard, so yea.

Point was, destroying blocks, and there's a lot of puzzles built specifically around this gimmick. Some involve creating staircases out of solid walls. One particular late stage has a number of hard blocks interspersed throughout the wall which makes overall wall destruction a true test. I still have no idea what the proper solution is and relied on hoarding exploding spikes from previous stages. Other stages consist of puzzles where you carefully have to navigate mimic-like blocks and figure out the proper pattern of block to destroy in order to advance. I found these stages to be the most devious, yet the most enjoyable.

Overall, the game is a typical action/puzzle game with a very bouncy, and if it wasn't limited to Game Boy's gray-scale color scheme, I'd imagine beautifully vibrant feel. It's also a lost gem, in my opinion at least. I rarely, if ever, see the game brought up in Game Boy game discussions and it's a shame. For me, it's up there with the best of the best as far as Game Boy titles are concerned and a definite recommended play for anyone who's into action/puzzle games. If anything, it damn near exemplifies the block puzzle/platforming genre. But it's not without its faults. It is, however, accompanied by an expected bouncy soundtrack. with tunes like Stages 1-9 or Stages 21-29. Looking back on my youth, I must have had that first tune ingrained in my head given how many time's I'd have to restart the game from the very beginning. And that is the game's true flaw, except for that damnable stage select that managed to escape me all these years.

Nano-Rant:

There is, however, one other flaw that really got on my nerves - something I never experienced as a kid because, well, I just never made it far enough into the game to know. The latter bosses have some really questionable hitboxes. A couple of them, namely the final boss, Lore, left me confused during my initial playthrough on 1P Easy. Apparently, I was taking the wrong approach to the boss despite it working...technically. Though painfully slow, my plan of action was entirely based on hitting a collision box from the wrong angle that apparently appeared on certain frames as nothing more than a pixel or two in width. It wasn't until 1P Hard, several battles in, when I finally realized how you're actually supposed to defeat him - that my directional focus was entirely incorrect. I only learned the proper way because the 3 minute timer forced me to try alternate methods.

But the bosses alone don't suffer from questionable hitboxes. There are a couple enemies here and there that also felt cheap or slightly off when it came to perceivable hit compared to actual hitbox. This mostly involved movement and may have been more a limitation of the Game Boy itself in regards to rotational figures where the hitbox appeared to be slightly ahead of the sprite by a few frames. Regardless, I never found it aggravating, just unfortunate on a few occasions. The hitboxes on a couple select bosses though...that's a different story.

Nano-Win:

Finally getting past the beginning section of Stage 39 after which seemed countless attempts. That's win enough.

Relying on a strategy that is used literally nowhere else in the game. Ugh.

Rating: 4 Mojo Jumps out of 5

GC - Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door

Haiku-Review:

who's this Mario?
you mean Murphy? Gonzales?
Mustache? Marty-O?

Additional Comments:

Having taken this long to finally post something from the GameCube is completely unacceptable. Case closed.

Moving on: Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. The much needed upgrade to the original Paper Mario while somehow feeling exactly similar to the original Paper Mario. Ok, that's not entirely true, but one has to admit that there's an uncanny amount of déjà vu rampant throughout this game. Fortunate for me, the first time I played this game, back in '06 if I recall, I had zero inkling of any similarity between this game and its predecessor. For one, I never played the original Paper Mario, and two, I had little to no knowledge of its existence, period. In fact, I hadn't even played the Mario RPG grandfather, Super Mario RPG, beforehand. Therefore, everything presented was an entirely fresh set of ideas. I knew of Super Mario RPG, so the idea of a Mario RPG wasn't mind blowing, but the presentation and execution of The Thousand-Year door certainly was.

The Thousand-Year Door instantly drew me in, and I loved every minute of it. The locales were so unique, the populace, the story - you mean Bowser isn't the antagonist? Oh wait, was that a spoiler? While steeped in Mario lore, the game felt altogether disconnected from typical Mario fare, but not in a bad way. Somehow, the X-Naut army felt right at home in the Marioverse as did the Shadow Sirens, the Punis, or even an entire stage centered around wrestling. That is about the furthest thing you can get from Mario, unless you take into consideration that Mario on The Super Mario Bros. Super Show! was portrayed by famed wrestler Captain Lou Albano. Perhaps Glitzville has genuine purpose after all.

Eventually, I shelved the game, unbeaten. I don't recall the exact reason, but my post on Paper Mario for the Nintendo 64 has some plausible insight. Also, if memory serves, I think it also had something to do with Gloomtail. I vaguely recall struggling against him and finally said that's enough. Although, after my recent playthrough, I haven't the faintest idea why Gloomtail would have griefed me so badly. After beating Gloomtail, I questioned my rather ambiguous memories, though I specifically recall opening the Thousand-Year Door while at the same time never having fought Bowser and Kammy. Therefore, Gloomtail proving paramount in my decision to prematurely shelve the game all those years ago seems highly credible if not embarrassing. Oh well.

Nearly ten years later, I finally decided to finish the game once and for all. First thing I noticed is that save files can almost be interpreted as mini time capsules. So, that's what I was using as a gaming alias all those years ago? I'll be damned. I was aware of a few other alternates from some old game saves, but that one certainly caught me off guard. But that's all rather tangential to the greater topic at hand.

Beginning anew gave me a fresh perspective on this game. I was well aware of the similarities between Paper Mario and The Thousand-Year Door when I did my Paper Mario run despite it being a number of years since I last played this. As I wandered around certain areas in the original title, memories of The Thousand-Year Door would suddenly resurface. Having only been a year since I played Paper Mario, memories of that game are a bit more prevalent and I found it rather uncanny how much parallelism exist between the two games. I don't think this is particularly bad, but there are times when it felt a little lazy, for example Toad Town's sewers and Rogueport's sewers. When I first played this game, I loved the idea behind Rogueport Sewers, but after having played Paper Mario, they've sort of lost their charm because they've become cookie-cutter. A number of elements had now become cookie-cutter which in my opinion, sadly, hurts the overall panache of the game. Fortunately, The Thousand-Year Door's improvements over the original title at least allowed for this new found disappointment to fade into the background, but it was still close enough in proximity reminding me that a lot of the presented material is just rehashed Paper Mario with a sweet, succulent glaze.

General facsimile or not, I am curious about these so-called improvements. Everything...or most everything I hated about the original Paper Mario either went the way of the dodo or was thankfully improved. It was important to slip in "most" as there are a few nagging holdovers that are still beating the game down with their inane stupidity and implementation - looking at you Zess T.'s useless duplication of Tayce T.'s recipe fetch quests of futility. Why in the name of all that is good game design this still a thing? But I'll come back to that, and besides, at least they got rid of Chuck Quizmo.

The two most important improvements in this game are easily coin replenishment and experience gathering. Coins were damn near impossible to gather in the first game, but here coins are nearly a dime a dozen. I never actually had to grind for coins despite having a bevy of badges to buy in the endgame for 100% completion or even fetching ingredients to fulfill Zess T.'s recipes. Through the natural course of play I typically had a sizable bank account on my hands and if not, I could easily rake in a few hundred on a quick trip through the Pit of 100 Trials in my latest attempt to venture to the deepest unknown of Rogueport Sewers, usually without success. Shucks. But my attempted bravery came with a extravagant cash reward and some experience to boot, so I'll take it. And because of the constant increase in difficulty and a number of aborted attempts as a result, it never felt like the truly unnecessary grinding present in Paper Mario.

My other disappointment in the first title regarding experience was also duly rectified. Finally, no matter how weak an enemy is, you will always get at least one Star Point, at it should be. This gives every battle a semblance of purpose. So now, even while I'm having to trek all throughout the lands for the umpteenth time to get another fucking golden leaf or coconut, if I accidentally fall into battle with an annoying species of piranha plant, I'm cool with it because at least I know it moved me one hundreth of a degree closer to leveling up. Yea, that's still sad in the grand scheme of things, but it's better than wasting three minutes of my life for no reward whatsoever.

Another improvement was the distribution of Star Pieces and badges throughout the land. It may have just been a result of knowing that I should be on the lookout for these items with Paper Mario still fresh in my memory, but at the same time I felt like I was able to keep relative pace along the way in regards to collecting these items much better than before. It felt like I always, or at least usually, had the tools necessary to gather all imminent hidden items in a given area instead of having to wait several chapters down the road before I could collect things. Of course, I still had to return to previous areas and spin jump the floors on occasion but it didn't seem as prevalent in this game.

I also have to commend the improved mini games. Is improved the right word? Let's just say the mini games and leave it at that, because in my opinion, the mini games in Paper Mario were a joke. Here, they play like actual mini games and for the most part, are enjoyable to play. And on the subject of mini games, this brings up the obvious innovations of Mario's new found acquirable skills: Paper Mario, Plane Mario, Boat Mario, and Tube Mario. Although their initial wow factor wears off after several hours of play - why does Tube Mario's directional controls suck so much? - their implementation is so perfectly fitting. Plane Mario and Boat Mario is especially awesome, and in many ways, I wish they had done a little more with each, well at least Boat Mario. Although, the final slog through the waves outside Pirate's Grotto is simply delightful. But what makes these four skills amazing is how they further reinforce the whole paper-thin notion. A paper airplane in a game based around paper? Last time I saw this level of logical cleverness was in Comix Zone (hint hint).

Story depth is another area that's been greatly improved, and I don't mean the general plot that Mario's working his way through, but the level of backstory connected to the world. In your average Mario game, I'd find this unnecessary and frankly, unwieldy. But given that this is an RPG, backstory can only help. It enhances the immersion factor of the overall game world be it Grifty's tales of historic tragedy that lays the foundation of the Thousand-Year Door and Crystal Stars, or Luigi's negligent exaggerations of his own adventure to save Princess Eclair. Without adding extraneous gameplay, the world has suddenly become so much more interesting. Instead of just whipping up a handful of generic Crystal Stars needed to safeguard impending doom or whatever, they instead have a tale of woe that's not only connected with them but with the world at large. This gives a much needed importance to the Crystal Stars as opposed to collecting another set of seven "things" just for the heck of it because otherwise gamers might realize the plot is nothing more than thinly veiled gobbledygook to tide over forty hours of gameplay.

But there are a few miserable quirks that managed to find their way into the sequel as well. The game still has a general sluggishness to it. However, I didn't find this to fault the game anywhere near as bad as it did in Paper Mario. In Paper Mario, slow was the word of the day and damn near every single element of the game dragged. Here, traversing the word felt slow at times, even with Yoshi, but it was never exactly a nuisance. And although the battles played out exactly as they did in Paper Mario, they never felt anywhere near as lethargy induced, especially once you started making use of some very convenient badges that sped up battle tenfold. The only element that truly felt reminiscent of the slow tedium of the first game was the micro-game actions that were used to either boost or make use of a specific attack or special in battle. Some of them are just so annoying that I never bothered using that particular move; some are aggravating, like Vivian's Fire Jinx, a move I relied on quite often thus having to bear the awfulness that is that move's micro-game far too many times. Stuff like that turned battles into ventures of exasperation. At least I'm getting my single Star Point for these sufferings. Hmm, I'm starting to think a solitary point is merely a slap in the face.

One of the worst offenders of the game, as mentioned before, is Zess T. Tayce T. was already a horrible design decision that existed in the first game, and for some reason it was carried over into this game and slightly expanded upon. As I mentioned in my write up for Paper Mario, the concept of recipes in and of itself is not so much the issue as it is the hours of hoofing it around the world over and over again to collect the necessary ingredients because my goddamn inventory can only hold ten fucking items...unless I managed to pick up the Strange Sack in the Pit of 100 Trials. Even then, twenty slots isn't exactly a godsend. Why can't items stack like in any normal, well-designed inventory system, or is that simply far too logical? I could easily live with a limited inventory if item stacking could exist. Please, let me place all those necessary cake mixes into a single inventory slot instead of filling my entire sack to the brim. I get it, we can only hold ten (or twenty) items no matter what they are, but it's asinine in my opinion.

What makes things worse is Zess T. uses dishes as ingredients more so than Tayce T. This is just annoying as the potential ingredient list grows exponentially. Without a guide in hand, there's no freakin' way I'd experiment with countless possibilities for hours on end. Hell, it takes hours on end just to collect all the necessary ingredients and complete all her available recipes even when using a guide. A far more convenient way would be able to dump a boatload of ingredients off at Zess T.'s house whenever I'm in the neighborhood which would then stock her pantry from which I could pull whatever ingredients I might want to make use of. Sure, it wouldn't solve the blind experimentation, but it would cut down on necessary travel time and allow me to stock certain items for key dishes that I might wish to prepare. Otherwise, the whole system is rather pointless. Why bother jumping from locale to locale on an epic fetch quest time and time again just to make the only useful dishes Zess T. has to offer when I can just buy some Ultra Shrooms and Jammin' Jellies and make a few Jelly Ultras? Well, I guess Whacka Bumps and Golden Leaves are free, so there is that, but do I really want to travel through Twilight Trail again? Even if there's a chance to pick off an unsuspecting Amazy-Dayzee? Eh...ok, but expect a good amount of grumbles to accompany the excursion.

Even with the few nuisance carryovers from the first game, the improvements in The Thousand-Year Door over Paper Mario are palpable. Everything that makes this game work helps it shine far and above its predecessor, even if the game feels like a near facsimile of it 90% of the time. They realized (most of) their faults and tidied them up giving the game life. Unlike Paper Mario where I had to step away for a few weeks while working my way through Shy Guy's Toy Box, I tackled The Thousand-Year Door without break. I never hit a rough patch, even while fighting my way through some of the torturous errands in the end game to obtain 100% completion. Which reminds me of one final, and glorious improvement over the original: the ability to carry on after you beat the game so you can tie up any loose ends. I wasn't aware this was the case at first and only found out when I wondered what would happen if I clicked on my save after finishing the game. Considering I had one final element to complete, something I thought I flat out missed during my playthrough and accepted as such, I was finally able to cross off that final item even after I beat the game. Happy days!

All in all, Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door is a great game, a massive improvement over the original, and generally a must play game. It still feels a bit too unique to be considered a proper RPG, but the elements are there, so even a die hard RPG fan can appreciate the game. More than anything, and it's possible it's nothing more than my imagination cleverly tricked by all the appealing elements of the game, but it doesn't feel anywhere near as slow as Paper Mario. That alone is a massive selling point for this game. And guess what? It's got some great music and atmospherics as well. But why would that ever be challenged? Personal favorites include Rogueport Sewers, Glitzville, and X-Naut Fortress.

Nano-Rant:

I do have a couple additional gripes. One's out of personal stupidity while the other's out of straight up developer stupidity.

As mentioned, there was one final thing left on my checklist that I failed to cross off by the time I beat the game. I had one final entry left in Goombella's tattle log. It was frustrating the hell out of me, especially since I looked up online what I was missing and ended up misreading it thinking I was missing an alternate Bowser fight. As I said, my own stupidity. Turns out I was overlooking Gus - a potential battle that is literally planted in front of you from the very beginning of the game. Expecting some sort of story tie in, I just kept paying him his stupid toll and never bothered to pick a fight. Boy, did I ever have egg on my face.

But then, there's the real crux of evil lying in the underbelly of this game. It's not Bowser, or Sir Grodus, or even the Shadow Queen. It's the goddamn Trouble Center. Fuck that place. Everything I hate about Zess T., and her inability to hop on down to the local supermarket for some fresh ingredients despite living right next door to the fucking store, the Trouble Center takes that entire experience and kicks it up a notch, or rather a ton of thorny, rash-inducing notches. Fortunately, most of the troubles are pretty tame and quick to finish, but then there are some troubles that make you want to pull your hair out, like Bub-ulber's sudden gluttonous urges or General White's wanderlust. Are you seriously going to have me trek to every single locale in the game to find this asshole? Wait, he even revisited Goldbob? Are you fucking kidding me? This entire trouble has essentially become moot, except wait, I have the package. Fetch quests are one thing, but having the player bounce around the game while adding zero merit, even as a side quest, is flat out garbage. It's a waste of time and nothing more. Side quests, while purely optional, should at least enliven the overall experience in some way. This enlivens crap. Seriously. This is the developer running out of ideas and saying, "Hey, let's make the player visit every location again for the nth time because we already know they'll never tire of zipping in and out of Rogueport Sewers or making use of Cheep-Cheep Blimp because they already have to do this tiresome bullshit for countless other meaningless side quests." Brilliant!

Nano-Win:

But fear not. I won't end this post on tidings of misery. There's a couple unexpected surprises that came with this game as well.

First, a bit of a personal surprise because I realized I missed a number of things during my initial playthrough back in '06. One such thing was Ms. Mowz. I had no idea Ms. Mowz could become a partner, but what really fascinated me about her is that she's a complete overhaul of what was essentially the I Spy badge in Paper Mario.

Secondly, I love the 2-D Bowser levels. Even if they're short, easy, and add no real value to the game, the premise of them is just awesome. I wish there was one for every chapter.

Rating: 4.5 crickets out of 5*

I combed through Hooktail Castle on multiple occasions throughout the course of the game, including using Ms. Mowz, trying to find this mysterious cricket because I'm too thickheaded to realize it's a byproduct of a SFX badge. I don't use them and therefore would never put two and two together. Oh well.

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

PC - Abobo's Big Adventure

Haiku-Review:

why praise Nintendo
when you can blast Nintendo?
death to all mascots!

Additional Comments:

(Be forewarned: if you wish to appreciate Abobo's Big Adventure on your own time, perhaps through a blind run, take leave now as I will likely spoil everything and anything that appears in this game.)

But seriously, Abobo's Big Adventure is a beautiful tribute to the heralded 8-bit era of the NES. Apt? Maybe not, but beautiful for sure. And while it may not contain jabs at everyone's most beloved titles, it showcases a fair cross section of Nintendo's Entertainment System history including popular titles such as the obvious origins of our muscled protagonist, Abobo, Double Dragon, as well as Contra or Super Mario Bros., to some unexpected nods including Joust, Xevious or even Yo! Noid. Yo! Noid? That's certainly pulling some material from left field.

It's not all rainbows and unicorns though. Abobo's Big Adventure has a few hills to climb first, and I'll admit while looking for an arguably well designed Flash game, I held low expectations while scouting the field. Abobo's Big Adventure, in a way, voluntarily threw itself into a pretty deep hole from which it had to climb out. Considering it's a Flash game, a fan game, and not to mention a mashup of officially released IPs, essentially rendering it void of originality, it was obvious the game was going to have to come out of the gate swinging or face bitter embarrassment for all eternity. As far as Flash games go, there are quality games out there; not many, but enough to give unknown Flash titles the benefit of the doubt. When it comes to fan games and mashups, however, things can get a bit sketchier. Very few, if any fan games are honestly worth anyone's time. That's not to belittle the creators, but they're usually products of learning coding, a shortcut to quickly pop out a game, a lack of artistic talent causing the developer to fall back on ripping graphics from other IPs, or general lack of creativity on the developer's part. That being said, there are some decent fan games out there. SMBX: The Invasion 2 comes to mind, though it's not without its flaws, as does I Wanna Be the Guy - although IWBTG being a fan game is clearly debatable since the amount of original content far outweighs the derivative content. Point is, casting all fan games into the categorical pit of hell without a shred of regret is a bit harsh. It's intriguing the two aforementioned games were chosen for comparison since both of them tie in with the third area of concern: mashups. Consider it serendipitous. Obviously, I Wanna Be the Guy plays this up more so than The Invasion 2, but in either case, I found it works.

Abobo's Big Adventure in many respects reminds me of I Wanna Be the Guy, but there's obvious disconnect between the two games on a multitude of levels. To compare them apples to apples is pointless because mechanically and stylistically they couldn't be further apart. Therefore, outside of its mashup utilization quality any sort of comparison is pretty much for naught. But that's the key: pulling resources from a bevy of games and tossing them all into the pot, except Abobo's Big Adventure likely used a witch's cauldron to fit all of its borrowed materials. The fear with this approach, however, is chaos and quickly reading up on the game, chaos loomed as a serious potential threat. Just looking at the splash screen on the game's website, it's easy to pick out Piranha Plants, as well as a Cheep Cheep and Trouter from the Mario franchise, but there's more: Kirby, Bub from Bubble Bobble, a Blue Virus from Dr. Mario, and a Big Fish and Penpen Maker from Mega Man 2 and 3 respectively. That's just to name a few. There's far more sprites tossed into that pile of Abobo's rampant genocide, but that's enough to gauge a base line as far as limits, or lack thereof, when it comes to IP inclusion.

Perhaps one can look at the above list and imagine a prospective platformer. It's possible. While Bub and a Blue Virus may hamper the idea slightly, it's still theoretically possible. And that's the magic of Abobo's Big Adventure. The game not only took these sprites, but took so much more: backgrounds, music, play mechanics and somehow conjured a well crafted hash of everything Nintendo in all its 80s glory. Whether you're punching the daylights out of White Spy in Double Dragon's Mission I, spitting Cheep Cheeps at a Lantern Fish in Super Mario Bros.'s funky underwater physics, defeating the Grim Reaper in a lovable twin-ballooned romp, or cutting Ryu down to size as you climb the Waterfall, it somehow all works. Unlike the expected, and almost certain chaos, the developer's meticulous planning of where, when, and how is easily sensed and appreciated. Even when something appears to be wildly out of place, for example the Goombas slowly ambling across Mission I, little Excitebike riders plummeting to their doom, but not before attempting to burst Abobo's balloons, or gunning down a hovering SOPHIA in Quick Man's stage, the context can be rationalized given how the gameplay mechanics differ from one stage to the next. Would this work in a beat 'em up stage or in a run 'n gun environment? Every sprite is carefully adapted into their new environs and as such nothing ever detracts from the given mechanic for that stage which I applaud because, yes, there are a number of weird choices given their natural habitats in terms of original mechanics.

However, while most stages worked, especially the Zelda and Balloon Fight parodies, the Mario stage felt clumsy. Abobo's marriage with SMB-styled water physics and Yoshi's tongue really marred what was otherwise a well made mashup. It's very possible the controls are to blame for this level's wonky execution since the controls seemed backwards for this one stage compared to the rest of the game. In fact, I kept going back and forth regarding where I wanted my "A" and "S" buttons mapped on my controller. Every other stage felt natural - just with fidgety control issues common to most Flash and/or fan games that can be easily overlooked considering - but for this one stage I was desperately fighting the controls no matter how I mapped them. As such, any potential enjoyment out of a Bubble Man and SMB water pairing fell flat. I loved the premise of the pair as it may have been one of the most accessible in the entire game, but frustration of the controls ruined the experience for me.

Other instances of dubiousness included the Pro Wrestling stage but that's only because I'm unfamiliar with the original title. Fortunately, I'm familiar with WWF Wrestlemania and the two games appear to be extremely similar. Still, most of my issues with this stage likely stemmed from a lack of fore knowledge, at least enough to ascertain quirks between the original and Abobo's reinterpretation and whether or not my struggles with the mechanics were simply down to bad reinvention. Albeit, once I started replaying levels in hopes of churning out any of the missing achievements, or medals as they're called here, I grew accustomed to Pro Wrestling's stiff and somewhat latent controls.

My biggest bout of frustration came from the final stage, but only because, like Pro Wrestling, I've never played Mike Tyson's Punch Out!! The game has just never appealed to me despite the praise it receives from nearly every retro gamer under the sun. I got all the boxing excitement I've ever needed from a video game from either Boxing on the 2600 or Boxing on the Intellivision to last me a lifetime. Sure, those may both be cringe-worthy titles to be throwing about, but I enjoyed them for the short amount of time I played them and they handled all my boxing needs. Street cred, which I believe is what Mike Tyson's Punch Out!! thrives on more than anything, isn't enough to warrant casual perusal. Nevertheless, my lack of familiarity with the game proved to be my downfall. Again, much like Pro Wrestling, I'm uncertain how faithful the controls are as I have no benchmark. And, once again, like Pro Wrestling, the controls felt incredibly stiff and overridden with a ridiculous amount of latency. But somehow, despite heavily emphasizing reflexes, I imagine the controls in the original game being just as slow and stubborn as they are here. Because of this, I felt like I truly had nothing to blame save my own skill, and boy did it take a beating.

Thanks to Contra's push to enter the Konami code to survive the hells of the Jungle and the Waterfall, I had more than enough lives to go around by the time I had to face off againt Little Mac. But all the lives in the world couldn't spare me the embarrassment of being K.O.d before the end of the first round. I think once I made it to the second round by mere survival, but failed to ever take Little Mac down even a single time. My dodges were slow, my punches ill-timed, and my overall method sloppy. My reliance on reflexes were daftly traded for button mashing after several rounds of ire, which only made things worse since Mike Tyson's Punch Out!! doesn't even remotely rely on any sort of button mashing. But that's the magic of frustration - pitting us into a hopeless downward spiral from which we'll never recover...until you walk away and take a breather that is. Down to my final life, that's exactly what I did. If there was a way to skip all the cutscene garbage before the final level, like you can in the entire rest of the game, a game over would have mattered naught to me; otherwise, I wasn't going down without a fight.

In a final act of desperation, when a hero is in their darkest hour, that tiny spark of hope and determination blossomed as it always does if every story ever is to be believed and I'll be damned but I buried that son of bitch as I looked death in the eye. I was out of my chair screaming in excitement that I bested that motherfucker when up to this point I was lucky if I landed more than a couple spectacular punches. I'm not just talking about phase one either. I somehow plowed through both phases with enough grit and determination to make even the most hard bitten cowboy proud. I'd liken the level of victory to that when I finally beat the clock in Fable's stupid card sorting debacle. It's interesting to think what sort of challenges manage to exude such celebration. Though, to be fair, Abobo's Big Adventure duly deserves it seeing how it awarded my efforts with a beautiful yet tragically depressing end sequence. Oh, Abobo. How can you be so cruel?

It'd be hard to pin down the best parts of the game. For sure, as I mentioned earlier, the Zelda and Balloon Fight segments would rank up there, though bias might play into that. Although, to credit bias for the Balloon Fight stage isn't actually possible considering my first real experience with the game is NES Remix. I've always been aware of the game. I've just never had a chance to play it, and based on initial reactions after buying Astro Robo Sasa for the Famicom a couple years back, which has very similar physics, I had a feeling I'd enjoy it should the chance ever arise. It just took a couple of quirky titles for that chance to finally rear its head. Then of course there's stages based on Mega Man 2, Double Dragon, and even Urban Champion, which is not without its charm. But the highlight has got to be the Contra levels. Everything meshes together so perfectly and the Kirby battles are well done. The first battle can be slightly bemoaned for having some blind spots, but given the awesomeness of the battle, I don't even care, nor should anyone else.

Again, maybe it's nostalgia for Contra, a game I haven't played in god knows how many years, but these two stages is where the overall game just comes together and seamlessly fits like a glove. Yet out of all the levels, there's probably more kooky cameos going on than anywhere else in the game: Rambo, RoboCop, Jason Voorhees, the Toxic Avenger - it's like all of Nintendo's IPs original based on movies found their home in the jungles of Galuga. Surprised the likes of the Terminator, Bill & Ted, John McClane, Max Rockatansky, Wayne Campbell, Conan, and Willow, among many others, failed to make appearances here, though I suppose Jaws broke the mold by appearing elsewhere. To be fair, some of the other stages have outlandish cameos as well, but none of them seem to be as focused as Contra's in the variety of oddballs that somehow seem to belong together.

Despite taking issue with the controls at times, the game is brilliant and considering it hits up all three of gaming's black marks, it pulls through victoriously. I'd only ever recommend a Flash game solely for a good laugh or its poignant representation of gaming irony - Super Press Space to Win Adventure RPG 2009, anyone? - but Abobo's Big Adventure is so much more than a simple Flash game. It's more than a simple fan game for that matter. The game has far exceeded my expectations, considering its roots in gaming mediocrity. Hell, even disregarding its connection with the blasé, the game has impressed me immensely. As such, I can't help but imagine what the game could have been had it been coded outside of the Flash medium. Perhaps it would be no different. After all Flash can be a powerful tool in the right hands as this game certainly proved. Still....

Verdict? I would gladly recommend Abobo's Big Adventure to any avid gamer, in fact I already have, and especially name it a must play to any die hard NES enthusiast. Kudos to the developers for proving that not all Flash/fan/or mashups have to be detestable garbage clogging up the internet for the sole purpose of YouTube poops or bored Let's Players. And kudos for taking the time to make a quality piece of work out of what could have easily been a tragically, chaotic hodgepodge of 8-bit memories.

Nano-Win:

Bonus content starring Falcor!? Are you fucking kidding me!? Why has this never been a thing until now!?

Seriously, how has such a game, no matter the genre - though Falcor's Fast Food style antics found here are just epic - never been made? It should have been a lock. What the hell, Konamis and Capcoms, Sunsofts and Taitos, Bandais and FCIs of the 80s? What the hell LJN? You saw too it that every other movie was made into a game by one of your many marionette developers. Why not something that actually would have made for a brilliant game for once? Why'd it take nearly 30 years before a group of guys making a fan game finally decided to make this happen? I suppose the difference in years can be to blame although movie games existed on the 2600 as well - Porky's....what? But come on, the Blue Brothers got a game and that came out in 1980, so...no excuse.

Rating: 4 sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads out of 5*

*Ok, a bit outside NES fare, but given the context of the situation, it's just so fitting.

PSP - Me & My Katamari

Haiku-Review:

more Prince, more rolling;
demise of a continent,
and King's new swimsuit

Additional Comments:

It's always a joy when a new platform is added to my list. For one, it keeps me bouncing from one system to another instead of stagnating on one or two favored choices such as the NES or Genesis. Though, I'll admit, after the PS2, Sony has failed to wow me with their offerings and I've always had little to no incentive to continue on with their products. Not really sure why. Perhaps the PS2 was such a powerhouse that it seemed difficult to live up to its standards of a nearly infinite lineup of incredible games. Although, to wit, No Man's Sky may be the first title to genuinely change my perception of Sony's merit. Or, in the PSP's regrettable case, Sony decided to enter the handheld market. I hate handhelds. I loved the idea as a kid because they're great for long trips or any other situation that starts to gnaw away at a child's short attention span, but as an adult, it's a useless, unwieldy, eye-straining medium that further affirms what video games have already shamefully proven - myself and every other gamer out there who grew up in the pre-3D revolution are nothing more than children trapped in adult bodies. Why would I want to encourage such a stereotype all the more? But then, considering how iPhones, Galaxys, and what have you have brainwashed the greater masses with mobile gaming, it's quite likely unfair to slander handhelds that at least stay true to the notion of gaming console.

Nowadays, if I can't play a handheld console on a TV, I consider it a lost cause. Though I admit, handheld consoles have come a long way from the Game Boys, and Game Gears of my youth. They're still eye-straining nightmares, but at least with the latter generations we can see everything no matter the quality of light we may be afforded at a moment's notice. Still, it saddens me when there's a game I know I'd love to play only to find out it's a DS release, or a PSP release - games that will sadly never see a home console release of any kind. Mario Kart DS and Mario Kart 7 are prime examples of this. Would love to play them, but doubt I ever will. I have no desire to buy a 3DS, and as far as an older DS model, while I do have one, I unfortunately fried it after performing a screen swap and haven't bothered attempting to bridge the fuse. A shame, but in some respects, no real loss since it's a handheld - a device concept that I have no real admiration for to begin with. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the gaming community at large viewed this as fair evidence to patronize me in my own considerations as a gamer. As if that's going to instantly alter my stance.

All that being said, it's obvious I repudiated my own terms. Clearly, a handheld title has been tackled, and unless I heavily modded my PSP to play on a TV (I didn't), I was forced to navigate the thrills of handheld gaming. I've Katamari's lovely franchise to thank for that. In fact, after finishing We ♥ Katamari, I even stated my eagerness to continue the series would likely lead to me finally buying a PSP. That it did, though it took me approximately a year to finally track down a copy of Me & My Katamari. In the meantime, numerous other PSP games came into my hands, but for Beat All Games, my plan was to knock Katamari's third installment out as the first PSP title. And, huzzah! So it is done. Maybe handheld gaming isn't the shameful crime I made it out to be after all. Hmm, I do have that WonderSwan Color sitting on the shelf. Should I...?

But enough about handhelds; time to read through the lengthy proceedings of more ball-rolling excitement - literally. Admittedly, I wasn't sure what to expect. Given both We ♥ Katamari's improvements and shortfalls, I was worried that Me & My Katamari would follow suit; sort of meandering off on level ground instead of raising the bar. Although, even casting my personal opinions regarding any innovation, or lack thereof, between the first two titles aside, I was especially distraught over the obvious lack of analog sticks on the PSP - the key element, nay, the only element to Katamari's tried and true control scheme.

Would the controls translate over to the d-pad and organic shapes button layout with relative ease? Sure, the controls essentially relate to cardinal directions, but I envisioned a real lack of overall smoothness that the analog sticks offered. Upon entering the tutorial stage - which was a carbon copy of We ♥ Katamari's tutorial stage; an uneasy grimace immediately surfaced - I fumbled with the funky controls. They're exactly the same as the analog controls, but somehow feel miles apart. No joke, I struggled like a fool just to get on the podium in the center of the stage, This was not a good sign for things to come, never mind Namco's lazy recycling of the tutorial stage - right down to June's important Prince tackling maneuvers for those of us who must collect everything on Sunflower Continent. However, after ambling about like a drunken jackass for a couple of stages, the controls became just as fluid as their analog counterparts. Other than performing a quick flip, which seemed to work roughly 30% of the time on the first attempt, I no longer found the control scheme clumsy or unresponsive. Still, I can definitely sense a certain disconnect in confidence between the traditional analog controls and the more smudgy, smear your thumbs all over the buttons layout of the PSP. Though I clearly had control of the katamari, the general responsive nature still felt relatively spongy at times. Using the Prince's special moves, however...eh, they just don't translate as well. Double tapping left and circle, as I said, failed far too often, and while trying to get a quick burst of speed was less of a gamble, it never felt as seamlessly intuitive as the original analog design.

Here's the interesting thing about struggling for speed bursts or flips. For the most part, they've been rendered unnecessary. Me & My Katamari took a giant step backwards in regard to difficulty. Other than trying to successfully nail 100 points in the Canary stage, this game is far too easy compared to its predecessors. Once you move on from the three town stages, you can literally roll with your eyes closed and probably sweep the stages clean racking up enough strange everyday objects to score 100 points on your first attempt. Ok, in all fairness, that may be a bloated exaggeration, but once I hit the state stages, it really isn't. I not only wiped the slate clean and managed to rustle up 100 point finishes for whatever animal who selfishly wanted an extravagant, tropical island all to themselves, but I managed to 100% all three states on my first go. And no, that's not an exaggeration. Knowing that I fully picked off three stages just like that left me grief-stricken. Considering the long list of items in the game, and the fiendishly cruel location of a few of them in the three town stages, how can the latter stages be so easy to clean up? Hell, it only took me two rolls to fully knock out the final stage; racking up 100 points on my first try. By the way, this additionally irritates me as I had no reason to re-roll the final stage outside of Eternal and as such failed to unlock the final song until everything was said and done and had to go scrounging around the darkest depths of the internet to try and find out how to get Katamari of Love days later after the frustration of a missing song truly grated at my obsessive compulsive nature. Contrary to this game, in Katamari Damacy, I think it took me a good ten to twenty rolls before I picked up that last stupid piece of advertising that I somehow kept missing in the Moon stage. A lot of this game's ease I pinned down, and possibly foolishly, to the PSP itself. Then again, the three town stages managed to push my required rolls to fully complete their item lists into the double digits, so who knows.

But, no. I truly believe the PSP is at fault here. I haven't looked at the numbers, and honestly, I don't care, but I have a sneaky suspicion the PSP's specs, or lack thereof compared to the PS2 are to blame for much of the game's misshapen difficulty. Loading zones unfortunately kill off far too many items and processing power must be the reason. Otherwise, I can't understand why items that are only a few centimeters shy of the barrier's required height are suddenly erased from existence. There are a few items I kept missing time and time again because you have such a small window of opportunity to pick them up. These are items that should still be present after you  load into the next zone - not stage, but zone. What makes the matter even more confusing is when an Animal Book, which is 35cm, is present, but a Clay Stove, which is just over 5cm shy of the 75cm barrier isn't. Why? Why is the Clay Stove suddenly removed from existence? By the time the Katamari reaches 70cm, 5cm is diddly squat. Needless to say, the Clay Stove was like the second to last item I picked up on my way to a completed overall item list. That's just bollocks! In the previous games, item negation scaling never seemed to err on the side of stupidity, at least that I recall. Items that stumped me in those games were because they were well hidden among the visible world as opposed to this game where most of my head scratchers appeared to be the fault of overcoming processing gremlins. Well, that and shit hidden in trees.

A note about about hidden items. Most, if not all of them are one off collectibles. However, they aren't necessarily tagged as rares. If that's the case, then what's Namco's definition of rare? Honestly, I wouldn't question it if certain rares weren't more abundant than certain non-rare items like the Lamp Ghost. Then you have items, rare or not, that are hidden that additionally fall victim to zone loading disappearance, such as the Lantern. I believe the Lantern was the final item I picked up in the game; first off because it was a tough item to find, but more importantly, it was typically negated after bulking up into the next zone before I ever had a chance to find it. The Lantern ended up being one of five items that I had to end up looking up to find their whereabouts. However, even after "cheating," I still kept missing it because it had already popped out of existence. Dammit! Even more incredible, four of those five items that continually outfoxed me ended up being in the town stages.

Not to be showed up by loading based shenanigans, slightly spongy controls, and general blasé when it comes to difficulty, Me & My Katamari continued the trend of general laziness by building a soundtrack of recycled songs. Fortunately, most Katamari music is gold, but I find it disappointing that I'm listening to the same stuff all over again. Roughly 80% of the soundtrack comes from the previous two titles. In fact, I think there's only one new song used within the stages proper. Otherwise, all of the new music is relegated to Prince Island and the surrounding archipelago. However, as much as I want to stamp "lame" all over Namco's can't-be-bothered attitude with this game, Yū Miyake knocked it out of the park with Katamari on the Funk. What a killer track!

Another element I enjoyed was how each stage consisted of three variants and eventually they were all tied in to the single mega stage, Sunflower Continent. Albeit, I wish there was a bit more variety in topographical design among the variants. There was little snippets of variety here and there: a dip in a frozen pond, a strange, magic mystery tour through Japan's mythical underbelly, or...uh.... Well, everything else sort of blended together. At least the camel allowed me to access a desert oasis, but given the sum total of all the stages, it equated to a whole lot of dreary uniformity.

Of the three titles conquered thus far, Me & My Katamari is easily the weakest, but again, I believe a lot of the issue is the medium on which it's played. Even with the few meager innovations, I find that the PSP hurt the title more than anything. However, I'm okay with that because I can accept the game as a handheld interpretation of a wondrous classic. It'd be foolish to expect the flawlessness of the original title and more. If the game had seen a home console release (PS2/PS3) instead, then yes, I'd hold the game to a much higher standard. I suppose it affords a free pass in that sense; after all, I still enjoyed the game despite its rough edges. I just don't think I could properly recommend the game, even to a Katamari lover, since it lacks the passion and oomph of the first two.

Even the King has loosened up, apparently leaving his humorously acidic tongue at home. He's still a little condescending, but he's lost his generally caustic appeal. Like that's possible. Well, apparently it is and it's diminished the beloved juxtaposition of royal vitriol and the sickeningly sweet and adorable world of Katamari Damacy. If anything, I feel as though I'm more of the ass now as I immediately bound through the world disregarding the King's rather unexpected compliments. I've no time for you. Consider it payback for your haughtiness in games past.

Nano-Win:

Likely expected considering I've yet to bring up the one truly peculiar feature in this game. The 2D platforming crossover levels are a delight. Again, like much of the game, they're rough around the edges - namely the physics which I feel are a tad flighty. However, it's a clever concept that I'd love to see further developed into a full game. From my understanding, based on various conflicting accounts on the interwebz, a 2D Katamari game existed on mobile devices, however, it is exactly the same as what's found in Me & My Katamari. Hmm, that's a shame. Well, here's hoping for the future....

Rating: 3.5 intelligences out of 5

SNES - F-Zero

Haiku-Review:

phenomenal speeds
high above the world's surface-
all will end in death!

Additional Comments:

It's taken a long time to finally put the beat down on F-Zero, but at long last it is done. And by long time, I literally mean a long time as F-Zero was, if memory serves, one of the earliest games enlisted for Beat All Games. I quickly pushed through Beginner and Standard and then just hit a wall on Expert's Queen League - damn those White Land menaces. King League only made matters worse and then...Master mode. Holy freakin' cow!! This shit is for real!

Before I go any further, I graciously admit to tool reliance on Master. No shame here, as I'd fear to even shake the hands of those who have the otherworldly gaming skills required to defeat Master. Now, it's possible I backed myself in a corner by relying on the wrong machine. I'm sorry but for the entirety of F-Zero's lifespan - take note, I originally got the game when it came out all those years ago in the bygone age of 1991; thank you, xmas - I have loathed Samurai Goroh and his pig of an anti-gravity racer. I'm aware it's the best car of the four. I'm just as aware of that today as I was some twenty years ago. And frankly, I don't care. Am I suffering Master needlessly because of my stubbornness? Perhaps, but again, I don't give a damn.

Despite battling F-Zero for what seems an eternity, I sadly have very little to say. Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily since I consider F-Zero one of the best SNES game there is, one of the best arcade racers ever, and a damn near perfect game period; even if the upper echelon difficulty would prove the death of me long before I ever manage it toolless. There's little, if anything, to complain about. Playing it again after so many years away from the game, and having filled that void with a mountain of other racing titles, I will admit that I'm disheartened there's no rear view mirror. Seriously, that's likely my biggest and only honest to god complaint that isn't tainted by my own voluntary ineptitude. But that's a product of gaming advancement and becoming spoiled by the norm more than anything. I recall as a kid never feeling frustration because I couldn't properly check my rears. The check warning was more than enough to let me know where my arch rival loomed. Funny how little things like that can change with time. Still, so many times I attempted to press down, or X, or something for a quick glance behind. Oops! Follow that up with a quick slap to the head, you foolhardy idiot. It may no longer be 1991-'92, but F-Zero says "Bah!" to your 2014.

Believe it or not, my fondest memories of F-Zero was playing the game not as a hardcore arcade racer but as a time-killing playground adventure. It became my go to game whenever boredom struck, much like Grand Theft Auto III in later years. Mindless romps, I call these. I'd spend hours racing in the wrong direction, allowing excessive headstarts - how long could I sit on the start line before I had to run balls out to ensure I made the cut each lap - or simply trolling the other racers, punting whoever I could into the wild blue yonder when and if the anti-gravity system allowed. This left little concern for fastest laps or best overall race times or the fact that I never unlocked Master mode. Heck, whether or not I even knew there was a Master mode is beyond memory. During my progression for Beat All Games, I learned about Master mode and fell to my knees and cried. Expert is enough. I'm sorry, but it's enough. The desire to torture gamers with such rash difficulty is one of several reasons why I disliked F-Zero GX. There a time and place for ungodly difficulty and I'm of the opinion that F-Zero's Master mode is nothing more than a ridiculous ass hat laughing in my face.

But there's so much Nintendo did right with this game - namely everything else. The tracks are cleverly designed and a joy to race. Okay, maybe Death Wind II and Fire Field leave much to be desired, but for the most part even the most horrendous corners on many of the other tracks can be accepted with open arms. And the music...(enter zombie-like drooling here). Yet another soundtrack that is golden from beginning to end. Tracks like Red Canyon, Port Town, Finish, and my personal favorite: Silence, the game's worth fighting through for the aural explosion alone. It's soundtracks like this that provide sound reasoning behind arguments concerning the pinnacle of video game music existing in the earlier generations. Of course, I could argue both for and against the common perception, but I just can't argue F-Zero's monumental listening experience.

Overall, the game is a pure gem demanding any self-titled gamer's attention. I've only my own bullheadedness to blame - most likely - for attempting Master sans Goroh and come out crying, but stubbornness will always, and sadly, prevail. For those interested, my car of choice has always been Pico and the Wild Goose. Yea, I know next to the Blue Falcon, it's probably the worst choice out there so my contempt for the game's unrivaled difficulty is essentially baseless, but like many others out there, sometimes you just find something that works for you and stick by it...for damn near eternity. In Super Mario Bros. 2, I will always and only ever use Mario. In Super Mario Kart, I will forever swear by Koopa Troopa's unmatched cornering physics, and in F-Zero, well...Pico is my pilot of choice. I remember enjoying Dr. Stuart's Golden Fox as well in my youth, but frankly, it's a risk - its fragility far outweighing anything it can bring to the table. The Blue Falcon? Meh... And I've already made my peace with the Fire Stingray. Maybe peace isn't the best way to put it, but I shall consider it as such and as far as I'm concerned, the debate's no longer in the cards. Besides, I'm off track. Point is, F-Zero is arcade racing at its finest.

Nano-Win:

Over the past decade, it's saddened me that manuals have more or less gone the way of the dodo. Quickly thumbing through my copy of the manual as I type this post up, I'm reminded of one of the many reasons why manuals were so great and such an interesting and integral part to the whole "game experience." F-Zero's manual has a short comic that presents a sort of build up - pre-race ceremonies if you will - to the climactic role that the actual gameplay delivers. Nowadays, we get a single sheet of paper in which were lucky if it even has anything remotely game related. Ah, nostalgia.... Why are you so fondly remembered? F-Zero has the answer in every conceivable manner.

Rating: 5 magnetic field block coats out of 5*

*Good grief. That's a mouthful for what's essentially an ice patch.

GB - Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins

Haiku-Review:

erase what we know-
no princess rescuer here;
time to save your home

Additional Comments:

Whether or not it's actually the case, it's always seemed to me that the Game Boy Mario titles got a bit of a bad rap as either straying too far from canon or simply being perceived as kiddie games thanks to their simplistic play and ease of difficulty. But, to be fair, aren't all Mario games guilty of difficulty erring on the side of leisure as opposed to edge of your seat turmoil? Well, at least the 2D titles. I can't exactly speak for any of the 3D stuff, because frankly, I just don't care for them.

I love the Game Boy Mario titles, though I've never played beyond 2. Of course, they're really no longer Mario titles as they are Wario titles by that point. Super Mario Land was a delightful departure from the original Mario games, yet somehow felt familiar enough to prove, in my eyes, a better sequel than Super Mario Panic...er, 2 on the NES. And Super Mario Land 2 was a fantastic reinvention of Super Mario World for the small screen - at least, that's how I always viewed the game thanks to its basic layout. Not unlike Super Mario Land, Super Mario Land 2 was a dramatic deviation from Mario's console titles. Sure, he still jumped his way through fantastic landscapes filled with a myriad of beasts of all shapes and sizes either meeting their fate by Mario's own foot or a fiery flower-induced sphere of pain. Again, there's a certain familiarity to everything, despite exploring the insides of a whale, a giant house - or at least it appears giant to our now miniaturized hero - the moon, or even a nearby star. Surely, these are unknown landscapes for our intrepid plumber, but seeing how Mario games have come to follow a very distinct formula: grasslands, deserts, ice lands, mountains, forests, and volcanic wastelands, I welcome these unique domains with open arms. Even if it is a tad disturbing, I'll gladly navigate the interior workings of a giant whale.

There's still more than enough similarities, even if we aren't on the usual princess rescue mission for the nth time, to merit Super Mario Land 2 as a true to heart Mario game. We're still popping mushrooms out of conveniently placed question blocks and kicking koopa troopas to an untimely demise - though markedly fewer in population it appears. But then, there's the irregularities that sets the game apart as an inside tip for quirkiness and blatant disregard for well known Mario dogma. From Mario's humble beginnings as simple plumber magically warped into the strange Mushroom Kingdom out to liberate the ever so unlucky Princess Toadstool, we've been indoctrinated that 100 coins equates to a 1-up. Ok, ok, Super Doki Bros. Panic already turned our mindsets upside-down by introducing a health system and other such nonsense, but I've never considered that game a proper Mario platformer anyway. Blame laziness on the parts of Nintendo for creating a vast pool of uncertain vagaries muddling up what should be proper Mario mechanics. But that's not the point. Here, the developers chose to drastically change everything we've ever known about Mario's resurrection system. Just because you fancy yourself a coin collector doesn't mean they're going to give out backup lives willy-nilly. No. Instead, life's an investment. You need to save that hard earned cash and gamble it all away much like any poor schmuck throws away a quick hundred on twenty. Then again, you proffer 99 lives for a mere 999 coins - any other Mario game would delegate 9 measly lives for such wealth. So, what's wrong with gambling now?

But truth be told, despite life's riches in comparison to a typical Mario game, the gambling hall feels awkward. Even the poor man's casino offering fire flowers and carrots seems inappropriate, especially considering Super Mario World's start+select feature is carried over. Not only that, on the whole, lives are very easy to come by; surprising considering the 100 coin / life conversion ratio is lacking. Following in the footsteps of the original Super Mario Land, Super Mario Land 2 carried over the bonus game, now tradition, upon level victory. You've got to ring a bell to guarantee eligibility, but that's the least of Mario's worries when it comes to any sort of difficulty. Nearly half of the bonus game bells are practically in Mario's preferred trajectory. Play a few bonus games, obtain a few hearts, and before you know it, Mario is hauling around a sizable trunk of donor hearts should he ever fall victim to a wee beastie or an ill-fated leap to his doom. In some respects, with perhaps the exception of Super Mario World itself, or the New Super Mario Bros. series, Super Mario Land 2 is one of the easiest games to farm lives without even trying.

Another interesting quirk includes altered physics. Perhaps this isn't that phenomenal when you consider something like, say the Frog Suit in Super Mario Bros. 3 which suddenly negates Mario's swim physics, but then again, that's alteration by powerup. Super Mario Land 2, with its epic journey taking Mario into the dark unknown depths of space, alters Mario's ability without the use of aids. But is it really that odd, or unsuspected? After all, science tells us that gravity is lessened on the moon, therefore it only makes sense that Mario bounds without care across the cratered surface. It's the attention to detail that I love, but it's Mario's weird floaty behavior in The Star that makes one question the mechanic. I suppose it's not so much the general floatiness, but how it's controlled. I can't help but feel something more akin to SMB3's frog suit mechanics would have worked better. Instead, the controls lack confidence. It works when Mario is trapped in the hippo's bubble, but it just feels off in the far reaches of space.

Overall, though, the game is a blast. I loved the game as a kid when it first came out, and I still find it to be one of my favorite Mario games. Sure, the game errs on the easier end of the difficulty spectrum, but interestingly enough, for the purpose of Beat All Games, this is the first time I've ever beaten the game. Despite long car trips allowing me to soldier on through this mysterious new world, I time and again faltered upon reaching Wario's castle. For one reason or another, that level got the better of me. I think Mario's wonky jump physics and general slipperiness is to blame for the most part. I know for a fact that the fourth propeller lift on the second floor ended a majority of my attempts. Others - most likely short-lived out of stupidity. Even now, that one sprite bested me a few times, but it turned out the crushable skull platforms proved to be my bane this round. Dubious jumping be damned and carrots a godsend. Sadly, the third floor was an anticlimactic run to victory guarded by what appeared to be a rather threatening boss but turned out to be a three phase letdown when you consider those who preceded him, namely Tatanga and the Three Little Pigheads - neither of which are worthy of the term difficult; perhaps more so annoying. I think though, knowing what has come to be Wario's bag of dirty tricks, I expected more from his battle. I know it's his first appearance, but I didn't expect obesity to be the only trait traced back to his origins. Oh well.

One last note I must make. I never knew the game had an alternate Easy Mode. The game's already easy enough. Was this really necessary? I find this to be one of the most bizarre departures taken by the developers. Of course, there isn't exactly a sizable list of comparisons to draw upon - Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario Land both offered B Modes once the game was completed which equated to an extra generous helping of evil denizens for Mario's stomping pleasure. With Super Mario Land 2's Easy Mode, however, the levels become near vacuums devoid of all life. The amount of sprites stripped from the game is simply astounding, to the point where I felt foolish playing it. Stranger still, there's no options prompt letting you know such a mode exist. This can be normal in regards to harder difficulties, especially on older games where those in the know were privy to the truly challenging, but to hide away a less challenging variant is just...perplexing.

Nano-Win:

Star Maze. That is all.

Rating: 4.5 J Sons out of 5