PC - Dark Quest

Haiku-Review:

I've a grand idea!
blatantly rip a great game;
make it terrible

Additional Comments:

Here's the thing. I love HeroQuest. I originally bought the game new way back when and still own the base game plus whatever packs I managed to find at the time. The game fascinated me, and even to this day, I prefer it over all other dungeon crawlers, no matter how sophisticated or strategic they may become. HeroQuest had a certain simplicity that not only worked, but allowed for instant customization. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find myself in a situation where I can play the game anymore. I think the last time I genuinely played a round of HeroQuest was sometime around the turn of the millennium, though I have played some other stuff since - ahem, Descent.

Nevertheless, my want for nostalgia led me to bumbling around Steam's vast library of games until I came across a game that appeared to transfer the very nature of HeroQuest into the digital realm. Ok, it's not the first game to do so; in fact, I've played some of the old HeroQuest titles. Fun fact: HeroQuest for the NES is the first game I started playing for Beat All Games. I just never finished it because it's boring as hell, and one of the buggiest games I've ever seen. Of course, it was never released, or officially finished for that matter, so what do you expect? Despite the NES game suffering numerous issues, some of the other versions I tried were not all that better. In the end, I decided the magic of HeroQuest was never meant to be experienced in the digital world.

Fast forward to sometime last year when I stumbled upon Dark Quest. I didn't have much confidence in the game, given its mixed, or mostly negative reviews, and previous experience with HeroQuest attempts. Sure, this wasn't HeroQuest, but it sure looked like HeroQuest. Hell, even the nefarious warlock game master, Azkallor was a direct rip of Zargon himself, or airbrushed just enough to prevent copyright infringement. Thing is, I rarely, if ever, rely on reviews by others. I have a penchant for neglected and/or brushed aside titles. I may dislike them in the end myself, but I often enjoy the journey of learning just how bad a game might be, or pleasantly finding a surprising gem. Well, hear this, Dark Quest is without a doubt, not a surprising gem. Right from the get go, as I was dropped into a dungeon with zero direction, I could feel any sense of fun slither into the shadows as I embarked on a quest clearly negligent of quality assurance. Be it awful grammar, shitty UI, clumsy control, or just general misgivings, Dark Quest is a disappointment among disappointments. I'm genuinely saddened that the game suffered from so many issues, because I really wanted to like the game simply because it was, or at least appeared to be, a proper translation of the HeroQuest mechanics. For a game that's so simple in play, how can everything go so wrong?

One of the biggest faults, and I found this to be a fault in the literal video game translations of HeroQuest that I've played as well, is that the game attempts to adhere to the board game as much as it can in all the wrong ways. The only real reason to play a digital incarnation of the game is because you can't manage to get a group of friends together to play the real thing. It allows for a single player experience in a game that just never allowed for that in board game format. Well, it can be done, but it's pretty boring. Trust me. I attempted such a feat many times as a kid as HeroQuest was a wee bit too nerdy for most of my friends. A drag.

So here we are, a way to play single player dungeon crawls, but the greatest thing of all is that the digital realm allows, or should allow for vast amounts of automation. But somehow, every interpretation of a dungeon crawl rooted in a board game, the mechanics come off as clunky. The automation feels half-assed. I'm not looking for a game to play itself, but there's a noticeable break in flow every time I have to swap characters. True, it allows for freedom of choice among character movement, but somehow I feel it could all be done far better. Honestly, I'd rather have assigned play than the current system. If anything, that would properly imitate traditional board game play.

Another annoyance is combat in general. The dice rolls are done behind the scenes, so we have no real inkling as to what's going on. Other than Thorin, the Dwarf, being able to block damn near every hit and Zerin, the Wizard, producing a guaranteed hit for one point of damage, it's all just a hodgepodge of shitty RNG that somehow benefits neither the player nor the computer. Nothing appeared to have any bearing on anything. Weapons offered differing abilities as opposed to increased stats, which is fine, but pretty much all of the alternate abilities are useless. There was a distinct lack of armor to help increase the odds. Yes, there is armor, but I question whether or not any of it has any purpose, other than maybe the boots, and that's a really questionable maybe. Thing is, as was the case with Thorin, I'd rather have no armor just so damage is happening somewhere. When facing a foe who can equally block everything, the long drawn out battles that can ensue are infuriating - rather, they're dreadfully boring.

That's the underlying theme: boredom. If the developers ever played any of the original HeroQuest video games, they'd realize board game dungeon crawls make for tough translations. They essentially made all of the same mistakes the various HeroQuest ports made. The only real improvement here is the dungeons defy the constraints imposed by the original HeroQuest board layout. Even on the rare occasion where they attempted to add some substance to some of the dungeons, such as having to obtain gems to unlock a door, the game feels hollow - it exists because it can, and nothing more. There is a genuine feeling of apathy running rampant throughout this game on the developers' part. Every single element of the game screams indifference, nothing more so than the town which feels like a cheap afterthought. Ok, it could be considered an improvement over the menus of the original game, I suppose, but it's merely eye candy. I'd rather have had them focus on a more robust store system than trying to entice us with what appears to be a town system where we can buy potions - only one of which has any viable use, weapons and armor, all of which are useless, and magic...um, nope, again, all entirely useless. Even the toolkit to disarm traps is questionable in its importance. Considering Zerin and Zantor, the Barbarian, can't even "search" for traps until they're sprung, ideally you need to have Thorin constantly leading the pack since he's the only one who can buy a toolkit - misappropriation of the original rule found in the HeroQuest rulebook if they were indeed trying to emulate the game to such a degree, which appears to be the case considering the evidence at hand: traps, toolkits, and dwarves. Whatever. The overall sum of traps in the game versus the cost and forced style of play to warrant the use of the toolkit in the first place is nil to none. Take the hits and be done with it. There is literally nothing in this game, as far as equipment is concerned, that has any value whatsoever, except for health potions. And those might as well not exist because there's a very good chance there's no benefit.

Then, to top it all off, there's a wonderful little fate mechanic. Now, the idea in itself isn't so bad. What is bad is the frequency in which it occurs. Now then, if there was some substance behind the fate rolls, I could probably accept their avid regularity. For instance, Zantor has dramatically been relieved of one point of health because he just fell into a hidden pitfall. I suppose we could use our imaginations for that, but come on, even HeroQuest, the board game, had wonderful flavor text in its hazardous treasure cards. Then again, given the atrocious grammar prevalent throughout the game, perhaps it's best the game skimped as much as it did on additional flavor. But again, it comes off as a general blasé by the developers. There's just enough material present to quantify it as a game, but anything beyond that - totally unnecessary.

Oh...oh...wait... Something else I nearly forgot. A time limit, or rather a turn limit. Why does this exist? I'm genuinely puzzled by the inclusion of a turn limit. First off, unless you have no clue how to play video games, not just this game, but video games in general, and even then make wasteful decisions for the first fifty turns purely out of spite because some awful friend is making you play this game, you will never even remotely come close to being a victim of the turn counter. So again, I have to ask why this exists. Timers of any sort are implemented to add fake difficulty because it creates a sense of stress on the player. No longer can the player relax and instead, they have to be quick-thinking. Timers work wonders in platformers as the player is constantly on their toes and therefore far more prone to making foolish mistakes. Here, despite fog of war existing in a sense, a timer of any kind has zero bearing. The player can take all the time in the world to strategize a plan of attack, which unfortunately for this game is nothing more than move in and attack. Not to mention, the player has freedom to view the entire board, or dungeon if you prefer, save those areas under fog of war. The only thing that could have any bearing on the player falling victim to the turn counter is the shitty RNG. That's it, and that's a rubbish reason to have to fear a timer. If combat is going to be broken to the point where Thorin and some hobgoblin are going to exchange hits for 50+ rounds because they both only have a...I'd say 1/6 at worst based on the original game, but it appears to be more like a 1.24 chance, or worse, to hit, then you can't include a timer mechanic. It's an unfair mechanic in which the player has no way to combat it through skill or what have you. If at least weapons and armor manipulated dice rolls, then maybe I could see at least a hint of argument for it, but as is it brings nothing to the table. 99.9% of the time, it's an ineffectual mechanic and the other 0.1% is bullshit because horrible use of RNG may steer you towards disaster; not because the game bested you, but because you've been stuck in a fucking stalemate. It's walking a thin line akin to soft-locking. I'd rather die to the hands of the enemy than volleying pointless attacks back and forth with no hope for gain until the turn counter reaches zero.

Of course, these examples are taken to the extreme as any sense of stalemate becomes moot as long as both Zantor and Zerin are hanging around; especially Zerin. But sadly, that only circles around to the original issue of a pointless timer mechanic. So...I'm at a loss.

Dark Quest brings nothing new to the table if you've ever played a HeroQuest adaptation. To be honest, I'd recommend those who might want to give Dark Quest a try, seek out one of the original HeroQuest ROMs for the Commodore 64, Amiga, Atari ST, or hell, even the unfinished NES port. While none of them are really any better, they're not any worse either, and if anything, they make use of all the original goodness bound to the HeroQuest world. But if I could make an even better recommendation, seek out an original HeroQuest board game. Sure, you might have to dish out a few hundred dollars these days, but you'll immediately understand why this game, along with all of the early HeroQuest digital adaptations, are utter crap, and you'll have one helluva blast in the process. Despite the reviews and even some of the initial shock of how clumsy this game is, I was determined to enjoy it, because I felt like many of the people behind many of those reviews missed the point of the game or misinterpreted how the mechanics should function. Nope. Everyone was pretty much on point in regards to this game being a badly done and unoriginal copy of something that was vastly superior in every way imaginable.

All that being said, there is a Dark Quest II which came out late last year. It does appear to be a marked improvement over the first game and although the first game is rubbish, I  am willing to let bygones be bygones and give Dark Quest II a try. But my brush up with the first game was enough warning to at least make me wait until the game receives a deep discount.

Nano-Rant:

Why does opening a door a picking up gold count as a move ending action? This is probably the most moronic decision in the game. First off, if the developers are going to try and adhere to original HeroQuest rules as much as possible, there should just be a collect all loot button to instantly pick up everything in a room. But then, perhaps that's where the idea of a turn counter comes into play. Do I dare risk a couple extra turns for some much needed (not so very needed) gold? Oh wait, I still have 70+ turns remaining and I'm nearly done with this dungeon. If this is the case, one idea steeped in stupidity - the timer - has effectively forced stupidity on other mechanics. And if picking up gold forces the player to end the turn, then sure, why not doors as well? It's a fantastic domino effect of ineptitude and misunderstanding the dependence of various game mechanics on each other.

And before I forget, I have come across an alternate box art mock-up that depicts the noticeably missing Elf. Um...? Elf? Where are you?

Rating: 1 incorrect usage of word division out of 5*

*Seriously? "F-
ear"?

Bravo, my friends! Bravo!

I'm not trying to be the notorious "Grammar Nazi" or some such epithet that people love to casually throw around, but that example of improper word division blew my mind when I saw it in game. That's something you have to go out of your way to create. But then, considering every piece of dialogue and backstory are obviously snippets quickly churned through Google Translate, should I really be that surprised by such an egregious use of the hyphen? Eh, yea, I am, because even Google Translate, or any word processor for that matter, knows not to divide one syllable words, never mind a single letter and then whatever remains.

PC - 12 Labours of Hercules: The Cretan Bull

Haiku-Review:

work is never done
so says the adage of yore;
no thanks to yon bull

Additional Comments:

First, it should be noted that I've been miserably slow at updating Beat All Games. Thanks to my tardiness, my exact memories of these games are fleeting. This game, along with Wheely and the next title that I'm going to try and wrangle out of my procrastination and general lack of passion towards writing such long winded tirades other than using it as an outlet to write something, were all completed two or three months ago. Only for the approaching end of the year I realized I should at least try and slap some sort of structured anger or appeasement. I doubt I'll even manage a Christmas Mario this year. Such tragedy. Though, admittedly, in addition to my growing apathy, my neglect has been spoon fed by the fact that I've been playing games as of late that are either entirely open ended and/or have a good many hours of gameplay present before any sign of an end is near. And anyone who's familiar with my particular way of playing games, a 40 hour game, for example, can easily be dragged out to 120+ hours over weeks and weeks of game time. No wonder attention to Beat All Games has dropped.

But enough of that. I present another in a series of fast growing favorites: 12 Labours of Hercules: The Cretan Bull. If it wasn't for a room full of games that I wish to play, and my desire to mix things up from title to title, I'd probably play every 12 Labours titles in a row. Sure, they're all essentially the same, but they're all so damn fun and addicting. As much as the first game enticed me with simple gameplay, the sequel cemented my love for the series. I feel foolish to say as such, but the games are executed so well. Perhaps because they still have an air of guilty pleasure wrapped around them. It's that hard to explain mobile gaming polish that coats the presentation that makes me ashamed to admit how wonderful the game is, but gameplay and execution shall always trump all and the devs seem to know a thing or two about gameplay.

Other than a new story, Hercules trying to capture the rambunctious Cretan Bull that's terrorizing the lands wherever he goes, there's very little in terms of new gameplay here. But that's fine. Why fix what isn't broke? Sometimes we genuinely do want more of the same. Hell, just look at some of the classics like Mega Man or Sonic - very little changed over the course of the first few games. When things finally began to change in dramatic fashion, hoping to freshen what the developers considered old hat, well the series, in my opinion, took a massive nose dive into a heaping pile of cow dung. If it works, let it be, and 12 Labours is doing exactly that. What is changed is small, but clearly impactful. New and interesting minigame boss fights, the ability to build outposts to advance your workers further into a stage, or even the new puzzle piece extraction to add a dash of collection mechanic. Nothing here is major, but it's all enough to make the game feel fresh despite being nothing more than additional levels that could have easily been tacked onto the first game as DLC. Too much change and surely the game would have taken on too much of a different feel; losing that special quality that makes 12 Labours what it is. For anyone who's ever wondered why Capcom created Mega Man 9/10 or Sega created Sonic 4, it's exactly for those reason, I should suspect. Of course, I don't have the inside scoop, so I could be talking out my ass, but still. There was a quality to the original games that people loved and desired more of just as they do with 12 Labours, again, so I would suspect. Either that or the developer is stuck in a developmental rut, but you know what? If that's the case, I say thank goodness for ruts.

Unfortunately, because of the striking similarities between games, there's very little else to talk about that I haven't already talked about previously. Perhaps I can groan over the puzzle piece mechanic insomuch that for the first two worlds, despite knowing puzzle pieces existed and somehow collected a couple by sheer happenstance along the way, I had no idea what I was truly seeking. For a while, I expected the various sparkles or targeted animations to be a clue as to their whereabouts but I was wrong. Eventually, I had to enter a stage and simply take in the detail. There I sat scanning the landscape for I don't know what. Once I realized what the pieces looked like, they turned out to be quite easy to pick up over the course of the game. Still, I wish there was some sort of device in place that introduced us to the concept. Everything else within the game is very intuitive, however that was the one mechanic that felt like a missed opportunity.

The only other thing worth noting, perhaps, is the difficulty when it came to expert mode. Compared to the first game, this one felt a lot easier. Could be that I knew what to expect and how to handle the game; that I had a better understanding of the necessary strategy to overcome situational obstacles. But then, it's also been over a year since I played the first title, and if other games have taught me anything, is that I easily become rusty after mere months of absenteeism. Maybe time strategy games don't befall the ills of prolonged absence. Makes sense since the game is devised around strategy and not skill. Still, with some of the additional elements in The Cretan Bull, there's enough to throw me off my game. Poke and prod at any number of hypotheses, but I can't help but feel the true state of the matter is that the sequel is simply easier. Unlike the first game where a number of levels tested my problem solving skills as well as my patience while under the constraints of a demanding clock, only a small handful of levels proved to be of the same caliber. Be aware I use comparison lightly here as even the difficult stages proved easy compared to the difficult stages in the original game. I believe there was only one that was truly comparable to the original game in the number of replays attempted. Perhaps some of the new elements not only added to the complexity and depth of strategy, but counterbalanced the difficulty as an unforeseen side effect. Who knows?

Whether the game built on the original, which it did, or simply stalemated the franchise, which it didn't, The Cretan Bull validated the franchise and its future, which at this point, I believe consists of four more titles. I know I have the third and fourth already in my Steam library and honestly can't wait to play them, even if they are more of the same old same old. As long as the same old same old keeps up the same level of fun and excitement, than more power to them. Hell, I'm not even mad that most of the soundtrack is the same - it's a fantastic soundtrack. More 12 Labours as is, with minimal but poignant alterations and/or additions and I'm all over it.

Rating: 4.5 waterslides out of 5

PC - Evoland

Haiku-Review:

not so much a game
but a nostalgic voyage
down memory lane

Additional Comments:

"...despite my criticisms toward digital purchases, this "teaser" more or less convinced me it may be worth purchasing after all. We'll see though. We'll see...." 

  -Lifted from my remarks on Evoland Classic

Well then...huzzah! My selfish material ways have, at least temporarily, subsided enough for me to venture further into the realm of digital purchases so that I could finally advance beyond the mere demonstration of Evoland into the full blown game. But the gnawing question on everyone's mind - well, maybe not everyone's mind, but for sure, my mind: was it worth it?

Knowing I'm just repeating myself, it's worth noting that I love the concept behind Evoland. After playing Classic and now the full game, I still love the concept, except...I'm not sure Evoland delivered the concept in the best possible way. Evoland Classic, essentially a short play demonstration of the full game, introduces the concept of RPG evolution by steering the player from a primitive Game Boy-esque action/adventure game through to a 16-bit top down RPG. Despite a couple minor personal grievances concerning extraneous material, Classic managed the evolutionary trope perfectly. It accomplished exactly what it set out to do. Enter Evoland proper.

Obviously, Evoland follows Classic to a T - after all, it's the same game, up until the latter half of Classic at least. Here, Classic deviates from what eventually became the official play route of the full game. Besides, Classic had to explore an ending of it's own. The full game takes the reins and further ventures into the RPG genre, introducing 3D models, side quests and mini games, complex boss fights, and its own take on the tried and true Diablo formula. Unfortunately, as the game ventures further along the RPG evolutionary timescale, the game begins to feel more and more hollow.

It's hard to pinpoint this empty feeling as the game's sole focus is about the development of the RPG genre over time as opposed to an actual story. However, there is a story embedded into the game. I can only assume this was done in hopes of deterring the game from becoming a pure abstraction of itself. Players need a hook to keep themselves invested in a game, at least in an RPG. Otherwise, the whole experience becomes droll at best. Not much is to be expected as far as story, considering the game opens up with offering our hero the ability to walk right and then to walk left. Where do you go from there? Especially when the game continually breaks the fourth wall with each graphical upgrade or other such historical innovation. Perhaps that's part of the reason while the game feels so hollow at times. There's no true investment in the world as the game feels less of a game as opposed to more of a study on gaming history in general. But the question prevails, is that a proper definition of the game as well? It should be, but it isn't.

But I could overlook the entire meta aspect of the game and focus my attention on what plot does exist within the constantly developing architecture of the game world. Whether I'm fighting monsters in a turn-based battle system across the overworld, administering wounds in the action/adventure segments, or slicing up eyeballs in the Diablo cave, I'll appreciate the story for what it is as the game wishes to express it at that given moment. In many respects, this is my big problem with the game. There's times where the game seems to hit its stride as certain play styles relate better to the game or story at hand while at other times, certain game styles seem to exist just because the developer likely had a list of things from the evolutionary chart of RPG games that he wanted to hit up, or deemed important to the cause. Whether or not he could relate them to the story made little difference. The result is a disjointed structure that instills apathy in the player. Other than seeing how the developer implemented certain key aspects of the ever evolving RPG genre, I have no incentive to accomplish anything, and never is this more true than in the Ruins of Sarudnahk.

Obviously, Diablo was an important presence in the grand scheme of RPG styles and I think Evoland pays a nice tribute to it, but in a microcosmic contextual view, as per the good of Evoland, it fails. That's not to say it shouldn't exist, it should, but it should also relate to the story as much as every other element relates to the story if the game is indeed attempting to put any merit into the story. The Ruins of Sarudnahk was nothing more than an empty playing experience because nothing meant anything other than some quirky, nerdy jokes and a necessary ingredient to achieve 100% status in the end credits. Of course, any other part of Evoland could be argued to befall the same pointless existence, but most every other locale or style seemed to have at least a drop of substance.

In the end, Evoland becomes a tale of two premises at loggerheads fighting over the intended point of the game. Are we, the players, playing a conceptual, piecemeal stroll through the early years of RPG goodness or are we playing a terribly cliché, good vs. evil parable that happens to be swaddled in a perpetually amorphous shroud of key RPG likenesses from throughout the years? I would play either. Sure, each option would inherit obvious flaws depending on how you hoped to perceive the game yourself, but at least each option would be stable. Instead, the game is an odd mix of the two; never quite sure how it wants to approach the next evolutionary element - story enriched or merely a surface element to tick off a developer's check box.

I still enjoyed a majority of the game, even if it felt vacuous at times. All of the pre-3D elements were well done as was the Sacred Grove - likely the best area in the game. While the rest of the game slowly evolved from one element to the next or awkwardly flopped from one element to the next - turn-based overworld vs. action/adventure dungeons and the clumsy usage of inventories, or rather faux inventories, the Sacred Grove took advantage of properly meshing two elements into a unique dimensional shift puzzle. I would have loved to see further implementation of this throughout the rest of the game between some of the other styles. If anything, I could imagine it giving the game a much needed shot of innovation above and beyond history repeating.

Perhaps I'm attempting to read too much into Evoland, or I expected far too much out of it. Perhaps the game is meant to be nothing more than a hollow affair accompanying our trek through 20 years of RPG evolution. If that's the case, I can only apologize for my own interpretation. In many ways, I'd rather that be the case than having just played a disappointment in comparison to the free demo. I tend to imagine my enjoyment of the game is fictitious, based on what I imagined the game was going to be as opposed to what it is in reality. My willingness to like the game boiled with such intensity that I overlooked all of the glaring flaws voluntarily. Perhaps there was truth to all those mediocre reviews I read some years back and intentionally disregarded them because I wanted to believe that they just didn't "get" the game. It's disheartening because Evoland Classic gave me such high hopes and gave me reason to ignore many of the more dismal reviews.

However, I must make it clear that most of my general disillusion occurred upon finishing the game when I realized I somehow missed out on a proper gaming experience somewhere along the way. It wasn't readily apparent and only upon reflection it hit me how devoid of actual substance it is. Until that point, fantastic game, as long as you accept the fact that you're shallow. Guess my advice is don't finish the game or else fall prey to how artificial the whole experience is. Maybe the best way to sum it up is that on the whole, Evoland lacks that certain soul that appears lacking in so many of the games crafted in RPG Maker - an intangible quality that's terribly difficult to describe but noticeably absent when such is the case.

The music is typical RPG fare, but to play into the hands of an ever evolving style, uses multiple versions of each song befitting to each stylistic cue, be it 8-bit, 16-bit or one of the more modern incarnations. Generic or not, I enjoyed the approach and appreciate the soundtrack for what it is. And honestly, when done well, I enjoy generic RPG fluff. A personal favorite would probably be Overworld [16 Bit]. Airship is fairly pleasant as well.

Interestingly, a sequel came last year and much like I was with this game initially, I'm intrigued. Even after my disappointment in Evoland, I'm strangely positive about the sequel. It looks promising, but then, I could be just as naïve as I was going into this game; under the influence of grand illusion invoked by my own personal hopes and desires for an "evolutionary" style gaming experience. I suppose as I already said after having played Evoland Classic; musing on whether or not I'll buy the full game, here too it's only appropriate to say, "We'll see..."

Nano-Rant:

Previously discussed within my comments for Evoland Classic, I feel I must touch on this again as I find it to be an incredibly poor design choice. Secret passages hidden behind nondescript walls. There's a reason why all the great RPGs place tiny tell-tale signs of where a secret passage may lurk. Nobody wants to spend endless amounts of time attempting to enter every 16x16 tile hoping a secret may exist beyond. Except, the full game kicked it up a notch over the demonstration with one particularly nasty example.

While not a spot on definition of what I'm already driving at, it essentially falls under the same category. I spent forever trying to figure out how to get to a particular chest in Noria Mines, fully expecting it to fall victim to more invisible passageway bullshit that's already rampant throughout the rest of that particular dungeon. Nope. Turns out I had to fall down a hole, which I would have never expected because upon accidentally being swept into one of the holes by a menacing whirlwind, I quickly learned to tread carefully and beware the gaps in the floor. This harkens back to one of my biggest issues with Where's Waldo? where once the player learns that something is inherently bad the player will ignore it from there on out. You can't teach the player one thing and then suddenly play the old switcheroo. Sure, the game just places my character back at the beginning of the room - there's no real punishment from falling in one of these holes, but it's still equatable with failure. Why am I going to voluntarily place myself into a situation of failure? It makes no sense, even for the purpose of exploration. It's simply dickish design and nothing else.

Rating: 2.5 DVD Players out of 5

PC - 12 Labours of Hercules

Haiku-Review:

curious, the tasks
you can complete with these tools:
gouda, gold, and logs

Additional Comments:

To reflect on a myriad of Herculean tasks, first I must reflect on that of which I've stubbornly opposed for so many years. That which would prove to be my portal to a number of games I salivated over as I watched various Let's Plays or general reviews on YouTube, yet remained as games that would stay out of my reach as long as I stood my ground on the premise of spite and pure bullheadedness for my loathing of digital downloads, DRM, and a vast assortment of bullshit that has unfortunately become the norm in the realm of gaming these days. It's time to admit my long enduring personal battle is for naught; that times have changed, and I can either get with the program or resort solely to nightly YouTube viewings as my only means to experience some of these gaming wonders. Crap. You win, Steam.

Most people, nay, everyone would likely call me an idiot for purposefully giving Steam the cold shoulder for so many years. That's fine. Frankly, I don't care. But I also don't care for the idea of leasing; be it games, music, books, whatever. I've long been an opponent of everything existing in the digital realm, plain and simple. However, slowly accepting the inevitable, the Wii, Wii U, Xbox 360, and Xbox One have helped guide me towards this abomination to material goods. Ok, maybe Steam has suddenly opened up a truly impressive library of games for me, and that's fantastic, but I still despise the medium with all the hatred my black, twisted, little heart can muster.

Eh, if I'm still so livid over the whole concept, why'd I finally concede? Two reasons. The first is a marvelous little city builder called City: Skylines. This game blew my mind when I chanced across it on YouTube. Immediately, I sought it out and fell downtrodden after learning that you could only get it via Steam (although days later I learned it would be coming to Xbox One in 2016). Still, this was the first game I had come across that put enough of a fire in my belly to finally stand down and accept all the wonderful bliss that Steam has to offer, even if it goads my principles with its digital BS. The second reason, which coincidentally occurred just a few short days after discovering Cities: Skylines, I came to possess a free Steam gift card. It's as if a shining beacon lay before me, cajoling me with all the tools necessary to venture forth. Yet at the same time, it simply said to quit my bitching and accept this window into a wonderful realm of gaming. Fuck it.

So how do I find myself here? The game was ninety-something cents, and quickly viewing a clip over on YouTube proved convincing enough that the game's well worth the tiny price...I hope. The 12 Labours of Hercules is a simple time management game that plays either as a casual time waster or as a brutal test in multitasking depending on the mode. To be honest, I've never played a time management game, at least that I'm aware of as I assume they all more or less play out exactly the same. Had the genre been described to me in full detail beforehand, I'd likely pass on the game. It sounds boring, and in many respects, it is. However, a funny thing happened. I found myself completely wrapped up in the game within just a few short levels. I'm not sure why as there is very little to the game. It's equivalent to a mobile game, which isn't surprising since it eventually found its way onto iOS and Android devices. Essentially, it's something to pass the time.

There's something to be said for games that act as tools to pass the time though. There's obviously some element of enjoyment stuffed in there, otherwise even boredom itself would prove gangbusters in the face of this stuff. Perhaps they're simple at their core, but often enough, simplicity can prove to be a wonderful direction in gaming. A number of my favorite games rely on some of the most rudimentary mechanics. VVVVVV and Katamari Damacy are two prime examples. At the heart of it all, there's really nothing to either of those games, yet what the developers manage to concoct with such an elementary premise is nothing short of magnificent. In a way, 12 Labours of Hercules is in a very similar boat. I wouldn't call the game magnificent, but it is a joy to play, and kept my attention long enough to try and get three gold stars on every single level in Expert mode. Hell, it convinced me to download the sequel, and unless the developer just completely missed the mark, I foresee the third title to follow suit. Very few games make me want to rush into the sequels, and I believe it takes a special amount of wonder, joy, and excitement to manage such a feat. Surprisingly, 12 Labours of Hercules did just that.

I have to admit, the game screams of mobile relations. The overly lavish yet lighthearted cartoon graphics had me on the fence. I typically shy away from games dressed up in this particular graphical style - a style that feels too contemporary, but not exactly cutting edge. It's a style that feels like a safe middle ground used specifically to attract the casual crowd. Usually, I consider that a red flag; at least in regards to those games I have a genuine interest in. But then, as I amble tenderly through my workload clearing debris, collecting cheese, and chopping down trees, I find the graphics to be the perfect choice. The game is so happy-go-lucky at heart, so it's only appropriate to present it as such. Otherwise, how else would we still find Hercules endearing despite wasting his days sleeping in a hammock while a subdued Cerberus, Medusa, Pegasus, and a bevy of slaves do all the dirty work. I'm sorry, servants, but we know what they really are. Or dare we suggest such a lighthearted game depict an eromenos (i.e. boy lover)? How foul of me to suggest such a thing. Servant it is then. Nevertheless, it's ok, great hero. We'll call for you when we need a giant boulder lifted, or.... What the hell else did that lazy bastard do? But we can't truly be mad at Hercules. Look how adorable he looks catching Zs, perhaps dreaming about how he's been miraculously sucked into a twisted time flux where he's somehow performing his dozen famous labors before the need ever arose out of penance for Megara's murder at his hands.

Wait. If Megara's still alive, then... What the hell is going on here? Who am I kidding? With such a playful tone running rampant throughout the game, should I have ever expected the game to be faithful to the events as commonly told in Greek Mythology? That would be equivalent to accepting any number of Disney movies as canon. Sure, the wondrous retelling of Pocahontas is entirely authentic in that made for family, Disney sort of way. As is the case here. There's no need to be gruesome and demoralizing. Megara was simply kidnapped.

In truth, I'm only snide and sarcastic because I can be. There's no real need to pick apart the story, or poke holes in the obvious mythological faux pas. But at the same time, the casual nature and retelling of Hercules' mighty deeds is ripe for ridicule only because there's nothing else to complain about. The sum components come together to make a brilliant game that proves highly addictive. And what I found to be the icing on the cake is the difficulty. Whether you play on Casual or Expert, the difficulty grade is perfect. Casual is clearly manageable but still tight enough on time to at least keep a relative sense of impetus whereas Expert really piles on the anxiety as you constantly eye the timer trying to best lay your strategy along the deteriorating Greek roads. Run, you stupid fools, run! For such a simple game, the tension is real, yet incredibly exhilarating.

Expert mode especially grabbed me because that's where the game comes into its own. The amount of laborious permutations is enough to make your head spin and the final world can really rattle your nerves as you try and figure out the best course of action. Several levels griefed the hell out of me as I worked toward the triple stars. Questioning and constantly second-guessing the workload proved to be a test in insanity as I often found myself repeating the same pattern yet for some reason, expecting different results. It's as if I wanted to prove the game wrong. I just know the workshop and farm need to be built before the store. My stubbornness got the best of me and I found myself repeating levels far too many times. Like an idiot, I somehow believed Expert could be played similarly to Casual as far as strategy was concerned. At least I realized the importance of the Horn of Plenty, though I still jumped at the opportunity for a bonus worker even when it was clear as day that a bonus worker was the worst possible option to strive for. Ah well. Through our mistakes we learn. Even if we make a few dozen of the same exact mistakes. Eventually...we'll learn.

Another element that added just enough variety to the game was the final stage, known as mini-games, in each area. Essentially they take the role of bosses. They're not exactly difficult. If anything, the levels themselves are far more difficult than the mini-games, but then, I don't think that's the point. Carrying the appellation of mini-game should be clue enough that they're simply a device to break the trend of time management throughout the rest of the game. Now, they're not great, at least compared to the core mechanics elsewhere, but they're appreciated. The healing of Chiron may be my personal favorite only because it broke the mold from simply power clicking the mouse button over the boss by adding a pharmaceutical scavenger hunt.

Finally, 12 Labours of Hercules continued its trend of salivating addiction with its music. Much like the game itself, there's really nothing special there, yet I found it oddly satisfactory; fitting even. The music never exactly insisted upon itself as exemplary aural candy attempting to draw attention away from the task at hand, but played the part of background enjoyment to a T. Tunes like BGM2 or BGM3 demonstrate exactly that.

Unfortunately, 12 Labours of Hercules is a game that I don't think I can recommend, in good conscience, at least to everyday gamers, only because it plays as a guilty pleasure. To fans of the genre, I totally recommend the game, otherwise I feel as though I should wash my hands of the game, like Hello Kitty: Happy Party Pals or the two Pokémon Pinball titles. But I think that's the tragedy of casual games in general. Even the best of the best are hard to pass along only because few sensible gamers would ever wish to admit enjoying such endeavors. So, in hopes to avert such tragedy in the name of brilliant gaming, I hereby decree 12 Labours of Hercules a fantastic gem of a game that, if anything, proved to me that Steam was totally worth the hit to personal principle, and I have to applaud it for that alone.

Rating: 3.5 lazy, pederastic heroes 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.

PC - Knife in the Park

Haiku-Review:

I feel the knife's soul
envelope my whole being
as I slash ninjas

Additional Comments:

Knife in the Park - what a fantastic title! I don't care what this game's on about, I throw my overwhelming support for such poetry itself. I culled this game from the darkest depths of the internet's forgotten void, where yesterday's websites, hosted files, and opinionated tirades go to die. In fact, Knife in the Park is so deeply suppressed in the archival ether that for the first time in Beat All Games' history, I had to take a screenshot of the game because even the vast ubiquity of the intrawebz failed to provide one. Like most of the unwanted fodder that floods the abyss of abandoned intellectual property, it's probable Knife in the Park's been left rotting with good cause. The likelihood that anyone will dare follow my footsteps and resurrect this five minute time killer from its digital grave is laughable. I can only chuckle at myself for doing that very thing, but then, how can you pass up something with a title like that?

In all honesty, I feel I could write a short essay on the title alone and what images manifested themselves within my mind - certainly not the quaint city park pictured above - as I contemplated learning more about this unusual suspect. I could only hope for the perfect imagery to compliment the title - the perfect gameplay. It stirred memories on a personal level regarding theme. Please, understand, I don't mean personal as in personal experience with knives and parks or any sort of twisted assemblage of the two, but in a manner of intellectual property striking mood or eerily unnerving gravitas. Consider it all TMI if you must.

But alas, much like its little brother, the incorrigible flash game, of which Knife in the Park may be better suited, my hopes were dashed by the menial task to slay my own boredom as I lazily washed my mouse back and forth over the mouse pad spilling the guts of every Tom, Dick, and Harry out to assassinate our immobile hero. That's not to say it's bad. It's...interesting. I'll give it that. But it's interesting for about two minutes and then it's time to move onto something else - again, much like 99% of the flash-based gaming world. However, at times, these games serve their purpose as does Knife in the Park. Got five minutes to kill while waiting for that troublesome download to finish; only three minutes to Wapner? Double click that pesky executable and slay some nettlesome ninjas with your sentient kitchen knife while you wait. Why the hell not?

What other options do I have? Stare blankly at the screen counting the seconds? I could always tackle Minesweeper for the nth time. Eh...tough call as they both exude about the same amount of quickly fading fun and excitement. Scratch that! Knife in the Park is a welcome alternative. In some respects, it reminds me of the old Adult Swim flash game, Five Minutes to Kill Yourself - just enough charm to hold your attention long enough to fully appreciate the game, which thankfully is quick and to the point. And from most games of this caliber, that's all I ask. So in all fairness, Knife in the Park succeeded.

But that doesn't mean it can just skate on by without the usual wag of the finger. There are issues. Well, it's hard to bolster such claims since there's so little to actually criticize, but there is one particular fault that's hard to overlook. Without lambasting the graphics in anyway, as I feel it would be unfair to a point, I have to question some of the aesthetic decisions concerning the blood splatters. After butchering a couple dozen ninja foes, the streets, the park, even the buildings become so caked in a gooey murder death scene that it begins to become difficult to pick out the latest wave of enemies. If only the splatters remained true to cliché gaming bloody goodness - that is splotches of red and only red instead of incorporating the ninja's blue clothing. Do those pixels of blue represent the living or the dead? Oh shit! They belonged to my accursed foes! I'm dead, and my honor, disgraced. The only thing left is ritual suicide. Or better yet; another common mechanic found across many games, why can't the blood function on a timer and disappear over time? Ah...who am I kidding? Should I really have expected polish from an archaic little time killer crafted a decade ago in Game Maker? What foolish expectations I hold.

Still, with a few improvements, Knife in the Park could have been far more tantalizing. And I'm talking simple improvements. For starters, let me see my score as I play instead of waiting around for a tragic end. Secondly, some sort of tier or level functionality would have done the game wonders as opposed to an incessant will to slaughter our lone hero in broken waves of ninja warriors - which seemed very random in its implementation. Some times only one or two ninjas would trickle out from the shadows and then I'd be left waiting for an eternity for the next wave of one or two lackeys. Other times, a mass barrage would pummel me from all directions, but it was never properly scaled over time. My highest scoring game, which led me to calling the game complete as it seems the game is endless, dragged on mercilessly as only a few stragglers came out to face the music at a time.

Ah, well. The game succeeded in its mission at least in that its functional and pulled me out of my rut for a good five or ten minutes. That's more than most flash games can manage, and even small victories like that account for something...I suppose. Maybe?

Rating: 2 audiovideo stores out of 5*

*Be aware, nearly 80% of that rating is thanks to the title. Ha!

PC - Al-Qadim: The Genie's Curse

Haiku-Review:

should Fate lend favor,
intrepid island hopper;
rend the djinn's blessing

Additional Comments:

First and foremost, I'm amazed I even finished this game. The Genie's Curse has been on my back burner of incomplete games for at least three years now. In fact, it graced my list of neglected curios a couple years back which was mostly populated with games that have fallen to the wayside either out of boredom or they just plain suck for one reason or another. This particular title was given the boot because...well, there's no sugarcoating it; it was nothing more than a gaming abomination that dragged TSR's good name through the mud. As a result, the years passed and I gave nary a thought to this digital AD&D charlatan.

Turns out, blatantly ignoring this game was the best thing I could have ever done. While looking through my backlog of games that I'd like to finish before I start tackling some new ones, I figured I could quickly phone in the remaining required runs in The Genie's Curse (Normal through Very Hard) and call it a day. However, after returning to the game after a three year absence, I no longer found myself loathing every second of it. Instead, I began to appreciate it as a worthwhile action/adventure puzzler. A rather unforeseen surprise occurred. I found my sabbatical from the digitized Al-Qadim was bookended by wildly polarized opinions. Maybe "wildly polarized" is a gross exaggeration, but there's a definite contrast between my original thoughts and how I find the game today.

I originally chose to play The Genie's Curse for two reasons. One, while I'm not the biggest fan of PC games, I've always heard so many good things about all of the old AD&D titles, and since their heyday was during my personal preference, 2nd edition, I wanted to track some of these games down. And for the second reason, which singled out Al-Qadim over the others, is because at the time a group of friends and I were trying our hands at the table-top variation of the Arabian-themed world. What better way to enhance the setting than to see SSI's interpretation of Zakhara's exotic mysteries, lavish with the influence of genie-kind?

The road was short-lived, however. Disappointment reigned as the game, while visually representing TSR's marquee, seemed to bear little to no semblance mechanically. Although I've never been crazy about the old first person dungeon crawls, they always felt like a fair re-imagining of the D&D ruleset. The Genie's Curse, however, seemed to throw the books out the window. The typical list of attributes etc. were there - I could see them on the stats screen - but it felt as though they were nothing more than an aesthetic choice purely to confirm The Genie's Curse was properly branded as an AD&D title. As mechanics, they were useless. Ok, leveling brought about HP increases; whether or not THAC0 or saves were affected is questionable, and with a fair degree of certainty, I'd say no as neither of those elements were present on the stats screen. Instead, combat was enhanced by weapon upgrades - magical bonuses if you will. Certainly isn't far-fetched by any means, but the whole AD&D mechanic becomes belittled and pointless which makes me question how this game is tied in with the franchise outside of terminology. Maybe I'm being far too analytic for my own good and needlessly dissecting the game thus overlooking what could just be a great adventure. But at the same time, I've always enjoyed when D&D titles bear marking resemblance to their table-top kinsmen.

The control frustrated the hell out me as well. This is one of the big reasons why I don't like PC games in the first place. I hate using a keyboard/mouse combo. While the options allowed for a controller, using a joystick turned out to be even worse, especially when trying to use the direction lock configuration. Since I'm not a PC gamer, I'm unfamiliar with certain control tactics, so I don't know if the direction lock is a common tool or not. I found it utterly frustrating, yet used it only because it gave better purpose to the sling in numerous encounters. Whenever I attempted to kill the direction lock, I found myself running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I'm completely dumbfounded over this though, as it's so much more natural to turn around on command instead of having to endure extra button presses just to about-face.

And finally, some of the puzzles...holy cow! It's not that they were difficult, but some of them fell under the sway of pure aggravation in that all logic seemed lost at a moment's notice. A number of puzzles were well designed but some felt mired under the curse of perhaps suspicious coding, namely a couple in the dungeon leading to Rashidin's library. One particular section perplexed me as to its actual working up until my final playthrough on Very Hard. Before that, I suppose I just managed to ascertain the solution blindly. And speaking of gameplay elements that managed to elude me, I don't recall having to hunt down the Bottle of Eternal Emptiness until my final playthrough either. I vaguely recall Fuwwah ash Ghazha always clamming up after retrieving Idrid's veil therefore resulting to a quest for the Singing Scimitar. On my final playthrough, I decided to acquire some of the extra XP that came with each so-called gift to Gubishbuskin instead of foregoing the time consuming back-and-forth sailing between Jaza'ir Jiza and Bandar al-Sa'adat by questing for the legendary weapon. In doing so, I managed to be tasked with fetching the magic bottle for once. Honestly, up until this point, I never knew there were two possible solutions to overcoming the stupid efreet.

Certainly, none of the above factors is enough to condemn the game, but on my initial playthrough, I found the game incredibly tedious and simply lackluster at best. I continued to run the game in hopes that I could quickly put it behind me - after all, the puzzles were no longer of concern. With each increasing difficulty I could essentially speedrun it. Halfway through Medium, however, I lost all interest in the game. It was just too much of a chore; not a spark of entertainment to be found.

Fast forward approximately three years and suddenly I no longer abhorred the game. It didn't exactly fall in my good graces, but all the irritants of the past washed away leaving me with a decent adventure title waist-deep in puzzles. I can attribute two reasons to this. First, having stepped away from the game for some time, upon my return while I knew what the game wasn't, I no longer had certain hopes which could be easily dashed. I came to accept the game as Al-Qadim in name, but not in theory. But secondly, and more important, I was finally able to play the game with a proper control configuration on a controller without a wonky joystick thanks to JoyToKey. Surprisingly, I've made use of JoyToKey for the past couple years, but somehow never thought of applying it to older PC games. I may even start exploring more of these old adventure games thanks to this discovery. Eh, maybe... But what really had me jazzed about this was that I no longer had to rely on lock mode and I could properly play using proper directionals. This alone improved the gameplay immensely and raised my enjoyment level exponentially.

There is one complaint I still have to throw out there though now that I've mustered every setting. I question what exactly the difficulty settings are adjusting throughout the game. Besides an apparent jump in hits required to take down an opponent between Medium and Hard, all the difficulty settings felt roughly the same. Honestly, I had the roughest experience on Very Easy, but I have to attest that was obviously down to it being my blind run. Still, while the puzzles would no longer confound, I'd expect the enemies to pose a larger threat. Again, during my Hard run a couple spots did me in, but then on Very Hard said spots proved easy to tackle. Maybe I just knew what to expect or how to handle the baddies, but I think I'd at least sense the progression I felt going into Hard. Heck, on Very Hard I didn't even bother resorting to any of the parchments when it came to defeating the Nameless Masters once and for all. And forget about shards - I don't think I ever used any of them except once near the end of the Medium run. Ah well...

In the end, The Genie's Curse isn't all that bad of a game. And while it is representative of Al-Qadim, I don't find it representative of Dungeons and Dragons in the slightest. As a recommendation, I'd recommend it to fans of PC-based adventure games, but wouldn't dare to fans of PC or any quality video game bearing the mark of Dungeons and Dragons as it feels horribly distant from the franchise mechanically, even if it came with full 2nd Edition style monster sheets for newly designed foes that could be directly integrated into its table-top counterpart. But I've read that I can only move up from here when it comes to AD&D computer games. Common consensus lumps The Genie's Curse at the bottom of the barrel it seems, so for that I can only look forward to some of the other titles out there: Menzoberranzan or Planescape: Torment for instance.

The music, while relatively cliché - obvious Arabic intonations - is fitting and actually quite enjoyable to listen to. I'd love to share some, but the likelihood of finding some appears to be slim and none. But on the topic of audible gratification, I have to make note of the wounded on the island of Al'Katraz. I don't know what it is, but their anguished groans cracked me up every time and I always found myself having to make a detour just to listen to their pain. Is that wrong?

Nano-Rant:

Holy crap! Attempting to recover the Nameless Master's secret treasure on Hajar is the true definition of dickish gameplay. I don't know if there's an actual trick to dodging those lightning bolts, but I averaged about a dozen healing potions over the few short seconds of electric blasts within that accursed circle of pillars.

Rating: 2.5 adages on barleycorn out of 5*

*It should be noted that had I finished the game three years ago, I'd likely have given it a 1 at best - and that would have been a real stretch.

PC - Super Columbine Massacre RPG!

Haiku-Review:

to judge in blindness
is to judge negligently
despite contention

Additional Comments:

I feel it's only obvious that I'm treading a thin and dangerous line by not only playing, but admitting as such and commenting on the so-called "trivialization of a heinous act" that is Super Columbine Massacre RPG!. But I also feel that the aforementioned line is a product of highly presumptuous naysayers who refuse to see the forest through the trees. Regardless, the controversy that surrounds this game nearly alienates it from any other controversial title before or since. The title alone is enough to trigger disgust over such a concept - that anyone would dare recount the events of April 20th, 1999, never mind that it's all done through the eyes of Harris and Klebold themselves.

I'm not here to smear or praise the work as a product of entertainment showcasing a terrible event in recent history, although I do have to question why that's the first avenue taken by so many considering other forms of media appear to be perfectly acceptable means of deliverance. I can hypothesize two plausible reasons: media as art vs. media as entertainment and presentation through inspiration vs. presentation through factual events (despite the copious amounts of artistic license rampant throughout the game).

Common opinion seems to be that video games are generally accepted as pure entertainment - video games masquerading as anything else is just unheard of. To a point, I've held the same belief pretty much my whole life. Video games depicting abstract reasoning and/or expressionism is simply ridiculous. They're fundamentally tools of an entertainment industry which could never be perceived as art. Super Columbine Massacre RPG! may very well be the first game I've come across that's genuinely made me rethink how I view video games within the multimedia world. This game is unlike anything I've ever played, and it not only made me think, but it affected me in ways that no other game has. I'm not talking about pure disgust over the appalling nature of the beast. There was a certain surrealism to it all that stirred up a bizarre duality of emotion. Surely it takes more than pure entertainment to cause such a reaction. But then, those who are quick to judge could certainly rank offensiveness as such a model that could trigger some degree of emotion outside of simple recreation. Perhaps, but it certainly wouldn't subject the player into a strange existential breakdown as they try and make sense of the odd love/hate relationship with the game thanks to the terrible unease, yet curious exhilaration of gunning down room after room of high school students. In a way, the game not only forces us to reinvent our boundaries, but to also question why we would or wouldn't blur the line to one side or the other.

But disregarding any philosophical bullshit that can be shoveled on, there's an obvious black mark that Super Columbine Massacre RPG! suffers from as opposed to some other media releases that can essentially trace their roots to the same event. Unlike numerous movies, such as Elephant, which is a work of fiction inspired by the events of Columbine, Super Columbine Massacre RPG! relives the actual events - well, as much as a 16-bit RPG can. But then, given the amount of artistic license including numerous conversations, quips, and alternate reality depictions including a foray into a Hell populated with assorted denizens ripped straight out of the Doom universe, is it truly factual? So there's a number of authentic photos and the like, but is it really that much different from the "inspired" works of the film industry involving school massacres? It makes me wonder if the game would have squeaked by with minimal fuss if Ledonne had released it without ever showing pictures of Harris and Klebold as well as removing any conclusive evidence that the game is a recreation of that particular shooting. Honestly, the game would probably be lost in the dark recesses of the internet; never having raised a pip despite the obvious representation of a school shooting.

That's enough picking, prodding and debating over the game's existence as a highly contentious piece of reenacted history. What I would like to know: for all the controversy the game created, is it even worthy of it all? I'll be the first to admit that I wanted to play the game after watching Machinima's Top Ten FTW Most Offensive Games EVER video. Of all the games they showed, Super Columbine Massacre RPG! instantly piqued my interest. There were two things that immediately caught my attention about this game. First, it was based on the shootings at Columbine which has always intrigued me in and of itself because of how the media and numerous other collectives tried to alienate and damage the reputation of so many things that at best could have been culled as inspiration - at best. For example: violence in video games, violence in music, and gun control laws all befell a contemptuous eye as they were all targets that could easily be smeared without just cause. Secondly, the game was presented in a 16-bit overhead RPG format. This was enough to draw me in. If Ledonne had made it as an FPS, I would have skipped right over it - not interested. Now, you want to talk about an incredibly offensive depiction of Columbine, an FPS would be the way to go - not a Final Fantasy inspired RPG. Heck, if it weren't for the abominable FPS format that was utilized in another top ten offensive pick: Ethnic Cleansing, I'd probably give that one a go too, if not for anything else; the gall that it actually exists. I have a sneaky suspicion that makes me a bad person, but whatever.

There was one little hiccup that had me worried though. The game was created in RPG Maker. I've seen some impressive work done in RPG Maker, but we're also talking about software designed with a novice game maker in mind allowing for simple script creation. As a result, the game more or less plays exactly as I imagined. As far as top-down RPG's go, there's no wow factor to set it apart. There's nothing that we haven't seen before in say, the Final Fantasy series, the Dragon Warrior series, or even the Phantasy Star series. It's all very recycled and even becomes monotonous, almost tedious, especially when you're sparring against Doom's likenesses in Hell. The battle system is far too unbalanced and almost comes off as hokey. Yet I feel as though I can't actually complain about the issue. For the sake of story, the battle system has to be unbalanced which unfortunately makes for an incredibly easy game. Granted, depending on how you approach the first half of the game, the initial battles in Hell can either be an absolute handful or a anticlimactic cakewalk. Suggestion: kill every damn kid you see!! Oh god, did I really just say that? *runs away*

As lopsided as the game is, which just completely drains the game of any hope of fun, RPG-y goodness, there is one thing this game not only did right, but damn near perfected. Super Columbine Massacre RPG!, if not for any other reason, is a game I'd recommend for its incredible sense of mood. I don't know if it just me being a  product of the 90s and getting all teary eyed listening to Thirty-Three (no matter how midified it is), but this game nailed it. The overall atmosphere of the game - never mind the 16-bit graphics, the egregiously composed midis, or the horrific storyline - gels like no other. Ledonne's artistic vision, whether intentional or not, matched music to imagery so seamlessly and really struck a few chords emotionally. If anything, it helped push the game over the undefined line between art and entertainment in regards to the video game industry.

So the question still persists - is it worth it? As a game, no. There's a certain enjoyment about the first half despite it being wrought with juxtaposed emotion, pathetic ease of play, and very non-intuitive situations. The second half's a bit more of a bitter pill to swallow. If you've acquired the proper weaponry or upped your stats enough, it's playable, but unfortunately crosses the line of ease far too quick, and by that point, the denizens of Hell become nothing but an annoyance, especially since Hell is a giant, unforgiving maze. Essentially, there's far too much dragging it down to call it enjoyable in the sense of a game - disregarding the whole Columbine tie-in. But as something that rises above the preconceived notion of "video games equal _____," it does so brilliantly. I could never recommend Super Columbine Massacre RPG! as a game, but can easily do so as a psychological excursion that proves to test one's limits on popular opinion concerning entertainment-based media, artistic expression and offensive disrespect - not to mention an introspective assessment of one's self in regards to the inevitable clash of enjoyment and disgust. Basically, if you want to hate on it, play it first to understand why exactly you should or shouldn't hate it; if you want to play it, don't. It sucks.

Nano-Rant:

Looking at it purely from a gamer's perspective, I can't even begin to express how pissed I was after reaching Nietzsche without the required copy of Ecce Homo. Worst part is, there's no way to rectify this flagrant misuse of item requirement without restarting from the beginning. The problem is, at no point is it made clear that an item will be needed to progress, and unlucky for us, a little exploration is required to find said item. Hell, I didn't even know items held any merit in my first attempt - you mean that copy of Doom and Mechanical Animals served a purpose? Sure did. Dammit....

Also to note, because I had to start over at the beginning to track down Nietzsche's book, the game unfortunately lost all its charm on the second go 'round. Now it could partially be thanks to my newly annoyed state, but everything that made the game pop emotionally the first time now felt blasé. Even the outrageousness of it all came off as nothing more than sterile indifference. And it's a shame too as it more or less tainted my perception when it came to the game's ending.

Rating: 2 boxes of Devil's Food cake mix out of 5*

*Please note that I'm rating this game purely from a gaming standpoint.

PC - Super Mario Bros. X: The Invasion 2

Haiku-Review:

ok, so let's see:
Mario, Luigi, and Peach -
Toad and...who's that? Link!?

Additional Comments:

I had first learned about the SMBX engine some time ago - well before redigit removed all traces from the net - but at the time, I never gave it much thought. After all, it fell into that cesspool that is known simply as "fan games." Bleaghh!! Additionally, coming from a romhacking background, I suffered from this pang of guilt that I should stick with my guns in the so-called haxors-vs-fanboys arena of war. Just more "bleaghh" if you ask me. But then, after some time had passed, I had to ask myself, who cares? A game's a game...s'a game. So I finally decided to download the engine and see what all the hubbub was about. Unfortunately, my decision couldn't have come at a worse time; coinciding with all the mystery and confusion shrouding SMBX's sudden exile from the internet. Dammit!!

But for me, the rash web of lies and intrigue strewn across a vast network of forums, blogs and other bastions of strongly opinionated remarks via posts of unconfirmed rumors, twisted and wrongly regurgitated statements supposedly sourced straight from the developer himself, and more often than not, outright flaming hatred - well, it made me all the more curious in what exactly this engine/game contained. Lucky for me, I managed to sleuth out a copy and gave the game a spin. Of course, the designer in me wanted to check out the editor first. Eh, it's...interesting...but nothing to raise an eyebrow over. Besides, I'm here to talk about the game itself and not the engine's editor, so I'll leave all of that squabble to someone else's unsolicited scrutineering.

Ok, here's the thing. This game surprised me; pleasantly at that! Yes, it has it's problems, namely the physics. They're just awful - rough grit sandpaper awful. They're supposed to resemble SMB3 physics, or so I've read and so it seems, but they're really rough around the edges which I cannot emphasize enough. I never felt confident with a lot, or really, any of my jumps, even by game's end. I was still cringing as Mario leapt into the wild blue yonder, wondering if I had built enough momentum and/or whether or not I'd be able to nail the landing. If only Mario wasn't so damn fat and purposed to be a svelte gymnastics enthusiast I might have some hope. In Super Mario Bros. 3, while the physics could be berated as jerky, I never felt uncomfortable with them - in fact, I rather liked them. I knew what my limits were and I knew what I was capable of performing, even under pressure. Here, I constantly misjudged jumps by mere inches, and no matter how much play time I put in, I just couldn't get a grasp on it. This was also an ancillary factor in why I kept with one character the entire game - Mario.

Speaking of character swaps, despite my lack or will to swap characters, I have to say that I was fairly impressed with the system. I at least tried out every character in a test run to witness the subtle and not-so-subtle differences between each of them. Of course, I've never been a big fan of playing as any other character outside of Mario, especially given that their most popularized physics are based around SMB2 - which I should mention, I rarely if ever swapped characters in that game too. Here, as expected, the extra characters retain most of their SMB2 instruction, although I think Toad plays a tad different. Honestly, I think I only put about five seconds of playtesting into Toad as I will never understand why he's ever been offered up as a playable character in any Mario game outside of the Mario Kart series or any of the Mario Party/sports-themed games. And even in those games I don't like him. And then you have Link. Huh?

Now this is an intriguing concept. Link, à la Zelda II, with the ability to turn into a fairy for a brief time and retain his various sword thrusts. I think it's a radical move to include someone from beyond the Mario universe, however purpose-built levels for Mario-style platforming just don't translate too well with Link's abilities. There's a few sub-levels here and there that seem to have been designed with Link in mind - namely any of the Zelda II level clones, but with such a small amount of tailor made levels, Link is nothing more than a tacked-on gimmick. I got the same feeling with the Metroid-based levels, but unfortunately Samus Aran wasn't a playable character. Unlike most good Mario romhacks that use alternate graphics ripped from a variety of sources such as the Metroid series, the Mega Man series, the Castlevania series etc., those games still build levels keeping in mind that Mario is the protagonist; not Samus, Mega Man or Simon Belmont. But here, it seems these out-of-the-box levels were designed with the original series' hero in mind. It's not necessarily a bad thing if the idea is to stay true to the original game's design; presenting it as a sort of culmination of the various video game worlds colliding together and not purposefully designed around our beloved plumber as if to say all worlds exist solely for one man. But it's a Mario game with Mario physics and should be designed as such...in my opinion. Fortunately though, these levels are few and far between and come as a rather accepted change of pace, so the fact that they aren't exactly built with Mario in mind is of no consequence. The only one I'd likely complain about is the palace section in The Lost Woods.

As far as the levels themselves, I thought there were some well developed ideas in there. However, there were a lot of lulls thrown in there too, especially near the end of the game. I felt like the game hit its peak with The Rawest Forest and then stretched into an uninspired plateau of design from Wet Water Zone on. The end game was a bitter disappointment compared to the first half, especially The King of Koopas. Hate to give away spoilers, but the final level was a total letdown. Sure there were a few interesting levels mixed in there to keep the panache of the preceding worlds, most notably Hardmode Tanks - what a bitch of a level by the way - but all in all, the final two worlds left me with a sour taste in my mouth as I powered my way through just hoping the game would come to a close. Unfortunately, the point at which it did, it's hard to decide if it was appropriate or not - let the game end before it dies a miserable death or try to drag it on for a bit longer praying some inspiration will hit. Meh, in this situation, it probably chose the better route. Maybe it dragged on for too long already.

Nevertheless, I had a lot of fun playing the game - far more than I expected really. Despite it's deplorable control and increasing sensation of mediocrity near the end of the game, I found enough imagination and interest throughout the game to keep me going. There was this certain feeling of "what next?" that I got that I never really experienced with any of the SMW-based romhacks. While I've seen some exemplary things come out of the romhacking world, a lot of it has also been almost...expected? Here, this vague sense of the expected is the unexpected continually pushed the game along. While there wasn't really anything I had never seen before, it still captured this ideal that I truly hadn't seen that before, and the only reason I think I can explain this is because at heart, the SMBX engine is nothing more than a fan made engine, which in my eye is low man on the totem pole in the world of gaming. If anything, this game gave me a new found appreciation for fan games - well, to at least curb my acidic disposition towards them and give them a fair chance before I criticize them with biased remarks.

Rating: 3.5 Billy Guns out of 5

PC - VVVVVV

Haiku-Review:

such interference -
flip up, flip down, save the crew
from Yes Men and Lies

Additional Comments:

VVVVVV is simply put, fantastic. It's amazing to think that a game built around a solitary, yet simple mechanic can feel so refreshing the whole way through. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I had so much fun playing such a fundamentally basic game. Unlike most platformers, your controls are extremely limited to more or less three separate actions: moving left, moving right and flipping gravity. And that's it. But what amazes me is that on paper, and I've seen this as I've tried to explain the game to friends, it sounds a bit too simple, if not boring. However, it's far from it. It exudes layers upon layers of creativity around one simple function, and does so with gusto.

Unlike most modern games, VVVVVV embraces the retro scene; brilliantly skinned with a Commodore 64 flair and accompanied by an equally magnificent chiptune soundtrack that would make a SID chip proud. Tracks like Pushing Onwards or Positive Force just stamp their authority all over the VGM pantheon. Honestly, I could list every track in the game - not a single lull in the mix - but seriously, do yourself a favor and just buy the album. I think what makes this game stand out among the recent influx of "retro" games is that it not only looks or sounds the part, but can also play the part. I think where a lot of these new "retro" games fail is when they take advantage of today's technology regarding gameplay mechanics as opposed to remaining true to the strict limits imposed by ancient technology or rather the systems they're trying to emulate. I'm not saying that's bad, but it definitely amps up the cool factor to see a "retro" game adhere to the true meaning of retro. Of course, the fluidity of Captain Viridian's movements, along with other sprite animations, goes a bit above and beyond - a dead giveaway that we're in the 21st century when it comes to game presentation - but overall, it still maintains that certain something that mysteriously turns our present day computers into the clunky old dinosaurs of the past.

If I had to pinpoint a singular defining element that really makes this game shine, then it's got to be how well the developer is able to take an idea and run with it without it growing stale or enduring pointless repetitions. Sure, the flip element is repeated ad nauseum, but it doesn't come across as a chore since each screen presents you with an increasingly difficult or perplexing set of dangers that challenges your reflexes and/or wits. Add to that, additional gimmicks integrated throughout each stage, such as rebounding between "trampolines," auto-scrolling, or even level wrapping, and you have a fantastic challenge on your hands at every turn...er, flip.

Now, I've read that the game is well regarded for its difficulty, and although yes, when I first started out on my perilous quest to save my crew members and perhaps find a way to end the temporal distortion, I fumbled through a few areas, having to accept a large quantity of deaths - especially trying to collect the trinkets in Veni or Edge Games (although I will admit that I was trying to make Edge Games much harder than it was, attempting to abuse a boundary glitch before realizing what the actual solution was - boy, did I feel dumb). Also, the Gravitron still gives me grief - not to mention the Super Gravitron. But really, the game's not all that hard...well, as long as you're just playing Normal Mode or even Flip Mode (which I found even easier, but that's likely because I was use to the game by that point). The Time Trials and No Death Mode, however, is a whole other story.

Despite my claims to wanting to 100% everything, I've mentioned in the past that elements which are irrelevant to "beating" the game will likely go unbeaten. So is the case here. For VVVVVV, I decided that I will at least unlock everything as well as make a worthy attempt within each mode. Seriously, the Time Trials are just gut wrenching if you hope to achieve the V Rank. I managed S Rank in four of them, claiming A's in the other two - enough to unlock No Death Mode; enough to satisfy. Still, I suffered the Time Trials to at least try and achieve S Rank in all of them, and I'll likely continue to try and conquer the Time Trials altogether, but as far as Beat All Games is concerned, forget about it. I even gave No Death Mode the old college try and only made it through two stages at best. So yea, the game may not be tough, but the bonus material is downright relentless.  Oh, and did I mention the Super Gravitron? It seems I have.

But even the difficulty surrounding the bonus material can't stop me from calling this a perfect game. Honestly, I can't find a single fault. Anything that I might even consider berating, there's just no cause. As aggravating as No Death Mode is, it's not a question of annoyance, but of challenge, and I love that. I don't know how, but Terry Cavanagh has somehow found the perfect balance, or zen if you will, between fun and frustration. There hasn't been too many games where I've expressed such a level of elation that I've urged others to play them (Banjo-Kazooie is the only one that comes to mind at the moment), but this is definitely one of them. Hell, I'll even give you the link: VVVVVV.

Nano-Win:

I can't possibly go without mentioning how adorable the sound effect is when any of the characters are stricken with grief. And then to see them smile again when they get that feeling that all will be just fine. It gets me every time.

Rating: A solid 5 Murdering Twinmakers out of 5