SNES - Super Mario All-Stars

Haiku-Review:

and so the story begins,
the birth of remakes -
how I hate remakes

Additional Comments:

First things first, I seriously did not expect another Mario Christmas, but here it is - another Christmas Mario. I decided, very last minute mind you, to clutch out some sort of Mario game. Not exactly my first pick but for the sake of traditions, I knew Super Mario All-Stars was something I could pound through relatively quick, until I realized what I was dealing with and then I began second guessing myself. As Christmas Eve entered the wee hours of the night and I was still pushing through Super Mario Bros. 2, I wondered if I could seriously manage to complete the game while still dealing with, you know, holiday related nonsense - though fortunately for me, and for the sake of Beat All Games, I have very little holiday nonsense I have to deal with these days.

Now on to more serious stuff. Super Mario All-Stars more or less birthed the now shitty tradition of Nintendo and countless other companies rehashing the same material over and over again in the form of remakes instead of coming up with an original thought. Doesn't even have to be an original thought outside of the franchise - keep pumping out Mario games. However, back in the 16-bit era, Super Mario All-Stars was a thing of wonder. We suddenly got to see our 8-bit favorites jump from four color mediocrity to brilliant flash. I remember the first time I beheld Super Mario Bros. with cool new backgrounds, but it turned out to be a passing fad.

To this day, I still like the 16-bit backgrounds that breathed new life into all the levels, but the games lost their charm. Both Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario Bros. 2j lost their originality and now feel like bad hacks even though they're the original games. Of course, the physics tweaks don't help, but I'll touch on that a bit later. At the time, for sure, the games felt fresh in their new clothes, but over time, I've come to realize Super Mario All-Stars is a poor recreation of the original games. It's the same problem every remake faces, be it games, movies, whatever. Remakes fail no matter what. There are few if any remakes that I have ever felt worked. As far as games go, I don't believe there's a single remake that works. Every remake I've ever played has either been trash or completely unnecessary. They're proof positive that they exist simply for cash. The whole concept depresses me just thinking about it.

But the thing is, when Super Mario All-Stars first came out, I believed in the game, probably not as much as others because I still felt very attached to the NES originals save SMB2j since the game was practically an unknown up until that point in the west. Of course, I was a kid at the time, but I think part of my buy in to the game was because everyone else was bought into it as well, and why like bland 8-bit scenes when we could appreciate these vibrant new palettes? Except, deep inside, I felt like the game was a swindle. Apart from SMB2j, I quickly saw that the game had little to no merit.

Granted, I never owned the game as a kid, but I distinctly remember renting it one time, checking out the updates in each game, spouting child-like rage at SMB2j and then never having the desire to play it again. To me, Super Mario Bros 2j was interesting, but total garbage, not to mention ridiculously difficult, and the rest of the game? Well, I preferred my good old NES carts hands down. To this day, I still prefer my NES carts. If ever I wish to play an NES Mario game, Super Mario All-Stars isn't even remotely an option, because it's nothing more than designer fad.

It's disappointing to talk down about a set of Mario games; the original quartet of Mario games at that. Albeit, SMB2j is a shit game, and SMB2 is questionable at best in terms of Mario-ness, it's still a great platfomer, but SMB and SMB3 are fantastic classics. SMB3 especially, for me, is a top game that can easily outclass most any video game. Fortunately, the SMB3 remake is steeped in relative sameness and only endures graphical enhancements. Though I will say, the king transformations, while cool to see nods to other SMB titles, are a total disappointment. The original transformations are so superior. I mean, come on, a seal flipping his crown around on his nose, and now we have...what? A random SMB2 nobody, a discolored Dino Rhino or a Yoshi with a fat lip? It's the same issue all over again - the utter removal of everything that made the original so quaint and endearing. It's bullshit!

A lot of that, I admit, can be argued as personal qualms over artwork and general distaste towards remakes. Ok. But let's dig a little deeper. Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario Bros. 2j are a total joke. It's been a few years since I played the original SMB, so perhaps I'm a little rusty, though I played SMB2j a year ago so.... Plus, I've been spending a good amount of time on Super Mario Maker where the general physics have been tightened up across the board so there's a good chance my baseline for Mario physics is greatly skewed in error. However, these two games feel completely wrong. There's a strange meshing of loose physics with stiff rigidity. I can't fully explain it. The much hated ice like physics of Mario is there, but somehow Mario's become prone to wooden awkwardness. I've never felt more uncomfortable controlling Mario. It's like playing a third rate platformer that never garnered any popularity thanks to how awful it plays. I don't get it either. Why did they fiddle with the physics? Thing is, I don't recall this ever being an issue when I was young, and perhaps it was because as a kid, I could easily be fooled. We had no internet to verify our suspicions. Without A/B'ing a game on the spot, shady physics doctoring was all just hearsay. I had both an NES and an SNES, so I suppose I could have tried way back when, but there was no suspicion to begin with because we were so entranced by the new beauty of the Mushroom Kingdom. Dirty tricks were the only thing at play, and we missed it.

Super Mario Bros. 2 and Super Mario Bros. 3 don't really suffer the same effect. In fact, I'd go out on a limb and say the physics are pretty much dead on, except SMB2 did feel a tad sloppy. I don't think such was the case, and it may have been my negative impressions from the first two games playing tricks on me, but it is a possibility. SMB3, however, did show off a bit of the darker side when it came to question blocks, bricks, and the like. Much like SMB/SMB2j, SMB3 suffered from this weird block repulsion that appeared to affect general momentum. As a result, I played most of the game as small Mario - placing precedence on momentum over power-ups. Honestly, the levels played faster and easier this way. The repulsion effect, which basically repels Mario at an incredible downward speed after hitting a block, would completely break my rhythm. This isn't the first time I've seen the effect as I'm familiar with it from my SMW hacking days. I remember coding custom blocks and dealing with this exact issue if I forgot to insert a bit of code that would affect Mario's y speed.

All in all, the game is a joke. I recall enjoying it for what it was as a kid, but always having reservations about it over the years. Even when friends would bring it up in conversation as a great collection that existed on the SNES and how it improved the original games, I'd nod in agreement and offer my praises for including SMB2j, despite hating that game, and the wonderful graphical overhaul each game received - namely Super Mario Bros. It felt wrong to criticize the game not only because it's Mario, but because it was a statement by Nintendo saying they not only respect their roots, but wished to give them a dazzling new set of clothes and set 'em loose upon the 16-bit generation in style. But now, I'll criticize the hell out of the game. It's something that should have never existed. They should have sat on the games and then released them as a collection - not as remakes, but as a collection somewhere down the road, like on the GameCube, like they did with the Zelda games. It's the only acceptable form. Instead, they fucked up four perfectly good games, well, three good games.

And with the SNES sound font, the music is not even worth looking into despite it all being classic video game tunes. I especially hated the sound effects used in these games as it made the whole game sound artificial, almost plastic. Everything has a solid thonk instead of a nice squish. It's wrong. It's more than wrong. This whole game is an egregious mess and Nintendo should be fucking ashamed they ever released it and tricked all of us gullible nitwits into thinking they vastly improved the original gems which were fucking perfect as they were. Fuck you, Nintendo, and fuck remakes!!! What a shitty Christmas....

Rating: 1 giant Bowser portrait out of 5

SNES - HyperZone

Haiku-Review:

flying in circles
is the only way to fly-
no, seriously...

Additional Comments:

Hot off the tail of a couple quick games just days after contemplating the future of both Beat All Games and my will to put genuine effort into the project at large, I've downed yet another title. All my words are lies! (If it weren't for the fact it's taken nearly two months to post this.)

Truth be told, I have an ever increasing list of half finished games that I'm consistently losing interest in which has effectively snowballed into my lackluster finishing ratio and growing gaming malaise. Meanwhile, games that I've been itching to play sit idly by. There's reasons why I keep adhering to a list of games I have little to no interest in; why games I want to play do nothing more than collect dust. Main reason is knowing what the hell is going on. Both Shenmue and Fable are great examples: games that fell off my radar for a year or two and when I finally came back to either of them I had absolutely no idea what was going on anymore and in both instances had to restart from the very beginning. Certain games, knowing what I had to go through to get where I was, I'm not exactly keen on the idea. C'est la vie.

But then comes a time when it's time to move on. Play something fun, something exciting - hopefully - something that I've had my eye on for a while. There's a few games on my shelf that fall in that category and HyperZone happened to be one of them. I've only ever known about HyperZone by picture for years and years, but the screenshots I've seen captivated me with its F-Zero facsimile art direction and strange vertically mirrored backgrounds. However, I've never been completely certain of the game's direction. Because it copied F-Zero graphically, I expected it to be another arcade racer set in the far future, though I was aware of the game possessing some sort of shooting element. F-Zero with missiles! Seems a natural evolution of the genre given the setting. Alas, that's not exactly what HyperZone turned out to be.

HyperZone is an odd take on the forward shooter. I've seen numerous comparison across the web to Star Fox, but I find that while the viewpoint is similar, it's nothing like Star Fox. For one, Star Fox has a far greater sense of freedom even if you're still within a controlled environment. A better comparison, based on titles I've played at least, would be Star Strike for the Intellivision. The claustrophobia of being contained with a tight space is far more recognizable and constricting on the craft. There's a sense that you're not only battling an army of geometric peculiarities but also the boundaries of the stage itself. The F-Zero track boundaries, however, are merely a gentle reminder that you're about to drift off into oblivion - or at least ship-damaging conditions - as opposed to the force field like border from whence they originate. Despite feeling constricted, this at least allows leeway; risking damage for a little extra room if the situation is dire enough. It also allows the ship to "jump" from one track to another when the main route begins to splinter into smaller fragments. But in some ways, I prefer F-Zero's approach even if it would only further the feeling of general constraint. As is, I find it counter-intuitive to use a track system to begin with. Let us use the freedom of space at the risk of removing the one key element that sets this game apart from most shooters or let the track define exactly where the ship can be piloted. Of course, being able to move on a Z axis further complicates the mess.

Whatever the best approach may or may not be, as is, I find it has far more influence on the gameplay than it probably should. Maybe that's the point, but in Star Fox, for example as it's often cited as the closest comparison, I never had any fear of approaching the edge of the playable area or generally making use of the entire field. Even in Star Strike I have no fear of where I can and can't place my ship thus allowing the enemies and their weapons dictating where I should point the controls. Then again, it doesn't even matter since the entirety of HyperZone can be played by constantly circling your ship around the playing field. I don't know if I find this embarrassing on Hal's behalf or outright depressing. As a whole, this detracts from the gameplay more than anything.

It seems everything is equipped with an aiming routine which really kills the gameplay. Because of this, you just need to make sure the ship is constantly moving. Nothing ever takes on the role of an obstacle. Sure there's Board Bs and Board Rs floating around in rigid formation pretending to be an impenetrable wall, but they're easily defeated. That's not to say that all the enemies are merely static drones. There's plenty of movement on all three axes by a variety of enemies, only pretty much everything can be casually avoided as long as you stick to your endless revolutions as you barrel down the course.

The bosses proved far more tedious than difficult. In fact, I'd hesitate to call them difficult at all. Akin to a Mario game, the stages themselves proved to be much harder than each of their respective guardians. I'm of the belief where if a stage or level can stand on it's own merit, a boss may not be necessary, especially if the boss adds nothing and/or feels like a step backwards after all the hardships leading up to it. There seems to be a school of thought that bosses must exist because...well, bosses. At the same time, that doesn't mean bosses have to be these horribly difficult monstrosities that need to outplay it's stage. They just don't need to be banal chores that can possibly outplay the stage in regards to time. Some of these bosses did exactly that. Now maybe I just used glaringly incorrect strats on some of them, and that's highly possible, but on a blind playthrough, I don't think my strats were any more obscene than anyone one else's who would attempt the same. Even on my New Game+ run (which was a ridiculous waste of time), I still found a number of the bosses boring to tackle. And to make matters worse, the final stage is the unequivocal boss gauntlet. Sigh. Outside of the Mega Man series, I have yet to experience a boss gauntlet that actually adds something to a game.

The worst offense in HyperZone though was the aforementioned final stage, and not because it was a boss gauntlet, but because the entire stage is a black track on a black background. That's fucking genius. Now, after watching some footage of the game on YouTube since I played this myself, I'll admit that perhaps my brightness settings were a bit on the dark side on my TV. It's still pretty rough in the video, but I can at least see the track. When I played the game, I was completely in the dark - flying blind, if you will. I never thought to adjust the brightness because it just seemed appropriate given the variety of other shortcomings the game suffers from, not to mention, it isn't that far of a cry from any other number of dick moves made by various other 8bit/16bit developers. A gauntlet of bosses with zero inkling of where the track breaks off into a nebulous oblivion? Sure, why not?

But it's not all bad. It's just unfortunate that all those "not bad" parts have very little to do with actual gameplay, i.e. graphics and music. I love the backgrounds in this game: bright, flashy, neo-futurist canvases of wonder. Add in the mirrored effect and it really does carry the sense of wonder and wild imagination. The backgrounds give a sense of locales never before explored in other games, even if Blast Furnace is remarkably similar to Fire Field. Material Factory, on the other hand, is final frontier territory. What the hell is this? Lest I fell into an acid nightmare on the dance floor of Studio 54.

The highlight of HyperZone is by far and away, the music. From the chilling Hal opening to the epic sounding stage themes, HyperZone may easily have one of the top regarded soundtracks on the SNES. Certainly not the best, but a fantastic, at times funky, and rather unknown breakaway from the typical highly praised fare that charts most listeners' lists. Few standouts include Old Capital, Ripple Field, and Credits.

Sadly, HyperZone is not a game I'd recommend. It's unfortunate as I was really looking forward to it for so many years. Maybe if I had originally played it as a kid all those years ago when I first saw a few snapshots of its strange and futuristic worlds, seemingly presented as an F-Zero clone, I might have enjoyed it. Maybe it was the mystique that the imagery built up in my head. As I said, who wouldn't want more F-Zero style racing? Was I lied to? Not necessarily, but I did feel slightly cheated. HyperZone is a game I really wanted to enjoy, even despite the few bad reviews I read going into the game. Typically, my opinion differs wildly from the norm so I shrugged off what I read as blithering nonsense. For once, maybe I should have listened.

Nano-Rant:

Something I will never understand is the idea of New Game+. People seem to love the idea. I was first introduced to the idea though Chrono Trigger years and years ago, if memory serves. Didn't care for the idea then and still don't now. I find it self defeating - the sense of playing as an overpowered egomaniac. B games, on the other hand, seem appropriate such as those found in Super Mario Bros. or The Legend of Zelda - essentially a second quest that is much harder. Maybe I've just always read too much between the lines when it comes to New Game+.

Point in case, New Game+ for HyperZone is utterly pointless. Honestly, I feel stupid even calling it as such. You're just replaying the game with the final ship. Eh, I guess it fits the definition, but still, feels like a complete waste of time in my book. Oh well.

Rating: 2 lazily named enemies out of 5*

*Or are they just lazily drawn?

SNES - Eighth Annual Vanilla Level Design Contest

Haiku-Review:

impressive travels
through a level potpourri
thanks to the Central

Additional Comments:

Another year, another Vanilla Level Design Contest. After the well deserved accolades of the 7th, I couldn't wait for the 8th. Much like the 7th, I chose to distance myself during the contest and afterwards as much as possible so I could let the finished product sink in as a worthwhile surprise. Am I ever glad I did because there's some genuine jaw-dropping moments mixed in there.

Again, for those unfamiliar, the Vanilla Level Design Contest is an annual event held by one stop shop for all your Super Mario needs of yore, SMW Central. What's it say? 'The Super Mario World hacking site.' Fun. The point is to design a one off level using the primary tool used for slicing Super Mario World to pieces, Lunar Magic, and nothing else. And despite being the 8th in a long running series, this years entry is only the second to be plastered together as a singular game - a collaboration in some respects, but more precisely, a masterful compilation of ingenuity and creativity that can give the game's original level set a serious run for its money.

Truth be told, I paid little to no attention to the first six VLDCs. Scratch that! I paid literally zero attention to the first six VLDCs. To this day, I've seen maybe a small handful of levels scattered across YouTube from a smattering of links throughout SMWC used as reference points for level design theory, or standout entries for one reason or another - and not necessarily always on the favored side. I've seen a level or two that made me say, "Good job," but nothing ever grabbed me to the point that I wanted to go back and hunt down all the entries from a given year - if that's even possible anymore. I think a good number of levels have been permanently lost in the abyss of time since they were all presented as single .ips's as opposed to the now canon compilation ROM. Again, I'm unfamiliar with how the first six contests worked, but if there's one innovation the VLDC has seen during its tenure that I fully support, it's the compilation ROM.

The idea of bringing all the levels together into a single work helped to springboard my own efforts to actually have an interest in the contest. By interest, I don't just mean designing a level myself to throw out there and see how it fares with SMWC's fantastic cast of designers, but to envision playing a selection of high quality levels that had no worry of being burdened by superfluous "necessities" of modern gaming, that is plot, and cohesion, and the general gloss of paint and sparkle used to make games appeal on a more casual level. Here, the results, trimmed to the bare bones of platforming design theory, we're left with an almost more cerebral product as we experience a multitude of micro environments attempting to analyze why so many of us simply enjoy run and jump Mario mechanics, and how to best make use of them. Nearly everything else is thrown out the window; even difficulty.

As expected, VLDC7 did just that. Sure, there were a few pitfalls here and there, but that's to be expected, be it beginners to the scene, designers who just don't quite have the vision to put a cohesive, working design together, or simply trolls out for a laugh. But then you have those who know their craft and build some stunning levels. In many respects, VLDC7 exceeded my expectations.

Therefore, it's only natural to expect so much more with the subsequent contest. After all, we've had a chance to see what works and what doesn't in the collaborative, or compilation aspects of the hack. And designers looked to step up their game, whether it was to exceed their previous scoring, or merely outshine the best of the best from the previous contest(s). (For those interested, I was one of the few...eh, probably only, who didn't go into VLDC8 with that mentality. Well, I did at first, but decided to move forward with an extremely experimental concept which ended up ranking far higher than I expected. I was pleased.)

VLDC8 did not disappoint...that is, to a point, but more on that later. Some of the designers not only upped their game, but came out swinging. Akin to VLDC7, several levels managed a wow factor due to clever graphical manipulation. Cakewalk Cavern, Peachpuff Peaks, and Waterflow Temple come to mind. Waterflow Temple is especially noteworthy only because I felt it necessary to take a magnifying glass to the screen trying to figure out from where half the graphics hailed. Sadly, the level design didn't quite match the intricate detail put into the visual presentation, but then again, that usually turns out to be the case.

Regarding generally accepted level design principles, the usual suspects rose to the top. For me, the standout level was once again, Morsel's. Municipal Swimming not only proved to be a fun and exciting level to play through, but it stretched the boundaries of "vanilla" to the very edge. In fact, it was the only level that left me scratching my head wondering how he pulled off a single trick - the leftward autoscroll. All the other interesting tricks in the level I'm well aware of thanks to the VIP series, but before VLDC8, I had no idea that a leftward autoscroll was possible without resorting to external code. Then, to top it off, the level is an underwater level, the bane of nearly every gamer out there, yet manages to articulate general gratification at every turn to the point where you begin to forget you're having to tread water the entire time. Even Crystal Reef Garden proved that underwater levels need not be a chore, and much like Waterflow Temple, expounded wondrous atmosphere throughout. Maybe not through devilish MAP16 trickery, but through color and general level architecture.

Other than Municipal Swimming, I can easily find discerning issues in the other levels mentioned thus far; be it Cakewalk Cavern's incredulous length or Peachpuff Peaks' excessive sense of bombardment, but overall, these are the types of levels that put me in awe. These are the levels that made me believe VLDC8 took a victorious step forward from VLDC7, along with the game's marvelous post game content. Yet somehow, the remaining majority of the levels felt so blasé compared to the previous entry. Maybe it's that VLDC7 introduced me to the overall best of the best, regarding innovation and imagination compared to a lot of the stuff typically produced. Having been around SMW hacking for a number of years now, the sense of excitement has slowly dwindled. There's still some amazing stuff that comes along and completely knocks off my socks, but the frequency or amplitude of that feeling has become few and far between. VLDC7, for the most part, managed that with stuff like One Sunday Morning, Snake Eater, and the secret area of Cavern of Pandora, but even a good deal of the mediocre material gave me hope for a pioneering continuum.

Understand, mediocre material must always exist, otherwise, how would be ever spot the great or the terrible. There has to be a middle ground. Problem is, the middle ground of VLDC8 felt like it took a step backwards which in essence, felt like it made the project as a whole retrograde. Not significantly, but enough to be noticeable. It may be hypocritical to grouse over such a matter when my own level was, on the surface, an uninspired run-and-jump characteristic of those scattered throughout YouTube by Lunar Magic noobs further adding to the idea that so much of the game feels pedestrian. I'll accept such judgment, except under the condition that people at least understand the premise of the design.

Then there's the stuff that just makes you claw your fingernails into the arms of your chair. Sure, there's facepalm material, after all, that's the purpose of the Worst World. Scoop up all the garbage. But there's no point in ranting over any of that. The levels speak for themselves. It's the levels that honestly try, or so I hope they do, and somehow just fuck it up. Variety Path is that level. I found Variety Path to even outshine some of the idiocy or nonchalance running rampant in the Worst World. The level of frustration this one level gave me was unparalleled. Even attempting to tool run MarioYOLO's Adventure was more fun.

Second to Variety Path's total failure in design theory was free rein graphical insanity. This includes using foreground objects in the background in such a way that they can easily be mistaken as foreground. There were two or three levels that abused this and frustrated the hell out of me. I don't mind graphical trickery when it's relevant to the design, but it need to instill a proper sense of depth. Once the two layers become a disorienting mess, you lose all sense of confidence in any of the architecture. Needless deaths to pursue. And then there's the madness that is Fez 2. I understand the subject matter - it's just not for me.

But Variety Path, Fez 2, or any of the bottom feeder shit didn't fit the description of culprit when it came to why the game as a whole felt weaker than its predecessor. It was the middle ground. There was just way too much of it and somehow took a bit of a stumble in comparison to VLDC7's middle ground. That's not to say the game isn't amazing. It is, and compared to 99% of the SMW hacks floating around in internet land, it's a superior model of gameplay and level design and still exuded incredible amounts of fun and excitement. Despite my personal reflections compared to VLDC7, I'd recommend the game just as much as I would the former to anyone interested in seeing just how far vanilla hacking has come in the world of Super Mario World.

Nano-Controversy:

Just like VLDC7, I strongly disagree with the winning entry. Subterranean Canal is impressive - a definite top ten level - but it's not a winning level in my eye. As I already mentioned, Municipal Swimming should have nabbed that prize, but whatever. Opinions. We all have them. My issue with Subterranean Canal is after seeing some of the brilliant Kaizo-esque innovation in parts of Cavern of Pandora, as we all know worldpeace is more than capable of, Subterranean Canal felt a bit flat to me. Instead, it merely felt like a contemporary take on The Horrifying---- from the first VIP game. Didn't care for it much there; didn't care for it much here. Suppose the RHYTHM section's impressive in design, but even there, the execution feels off.

Rating: 3.5 P's in the swimming pool out of 5

SNES - Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Rant:

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

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

SNES - F-Zero

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Win:

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

Rating: 5 magnetic field block coats out of 5*

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

SNES - The 7th Annual 'Vanilla' Level Design Contest

Haiku-Review:

again: adventure...
through individualized
interpretations

Additional Comments:

Unlike most of my commentaries, I have a sneaky suspicion this one may fall on the short end of the spectrum. Why, you may ask? Well, this game, er...hack of Super Mario World is more a collection of 80-some odd levels designed by 80-some odd individuals for the purpose to be judged in an annual contest held on SMWC. Ah! But there's a unique difference between this contest, and the six that proceeded it; that difference also being the reason why my first and only entry in the Vanilla Level Design Contest series is lucky number seven. SMWC's 7th Annual Vanilla Level Design Contest was proposed as a contest in which the entries can be combined together to create a single collaborative hack - or perhaps compilation hack is a better term. For the first time, instead of fishing through a sea of .ips files and patching countless .smc's, every single entry can be played as a single ROM under the guise of a completed game.

Still, it seems to be a rather silly entry for Beat All Games, but then again, the credo for Beat All Games is to beat all games, and it's hard to deny this particular title's credibility as a game. But unlike every contest in the past, I had a keen interest in playing this hack. For one, I enjoy collaboration hacks, especially more of the compilation style hacks such as the VIPs where there is a wide selection of level design philosophies present: from the brilliant, interesting, and out of the box ideas, to the horrible, boring, and dickish. Everything imaginable, but more so, the unthinkable, has the potential of making an appearance. And for me, that's the joy. It's like taking a ride on the wild side; playing rebel to all of the conventional gaming ideologies.

But there's more to my own VLDC playthrough wishes. For the first time, levels offered by a number of SMWC's esteemed designers could be found on a single ROM. In some respects, the hack could be treated as a sampling of a fair cross-section of competent level designers within the SMWC community without having to play an equivalent number of hacks. Not to say that's a bad thing, but I don't exactly have the desire to play nothing but SMW hacks. Been there, done that.

And finally, perhaps for a more sinister, albeit personal, reason, I can enjoy a game in which I had a tiny hand in helping create by being a designer of one of the 82 (not counting Switch Palaces) levels. Consider it thinly veiled self promotion. Eh, call it opaquely coated, as I'll purposefully neglect to mention which level is mine - we'll say for intrigue's sake.

To comment on the game though is difficult as best. It's a fabulously put together hack, and despite the game being completely open from the beginning, feels like a cohesive product. For obvious reasons, the difficulty scaling is absurd, but that can be and should be overlooked. Otherwise, the game comes together nicely, as though it truly is a grand adventure through some mysterious land that would easily ring familiar with our audacious hero, Mario. Be it an inviting forest, a mystical desert, or a perilous climb into the sky, there's more than enough of the usual fare to keep the more absurd level ideas grounded without discouraging the player. Yet, there's just enough levels seeded in madness to keep the player on their toes - from a cave that's inside-out to an epileptic's worst nightmare.

Depicting a long list of arbitrary levels thrown together in a hodgepodge of organized chaos seems hardly a case to call this a proper game though. But then you have the icing on the cake: a beautifully designed overworld and a fantastic soundtrack consisting largely of remixes on original Super Mario World themes created especially for the hack by some of SMWC's top composers. A couple favorites include the Here We Go! (Abstract Remix) (it's so non-Mario-esque, yet carries enough of the original melody to alleviate any fears that the game's deviated too much from the norm) and the Athletic Remix (somehow, this version conveys the intention of the original song better than the original song). Meanwhile, original compositions such as the Mountain Map and the Worst Map (believe it or not, I find this to be the best piece in the game as it accomplishes its desired mood perfectly) bring the game to further astonishing heights. It's wonderful details like this that helps blur the line between design potpourri and conscientious work, yet still maintaining its roots as a platform for showcasing entries intended solely for a contest. If it weren't for a few of those one levels and an open world, you'd swear the hack fulfilled aspirations originally intended from the very beginning as a proper Mario adventure. Then again, in a way, it did exactly that.

Rating: 4 unscrupulous number jokes out of 5*

*Hmm...another SMW hack with yet another pointless marijuana reference. Should I be surprised? I don't know. I'd think a simple 404 or BRK equivalent would be more appropriate. Though BRK's hex of 00 would be lost on all but the very few. Fuck it! Sex and drugs? Why not?

SNES - A Super Mario Thing

Haiku-Review:

the mantras of Rao-
spake thee of equines...Viva!
La Revolución!

Additional Comments:

I believe this was one of the last, if not the last game I completed before I started Beat All Games. Doesn't count.... Damn!

Where to begin on this madness. I've always felt like ASMT is the Rolling Stones to SMWCP's Beatles - raw, drunken rock 'n roll that appears to be going nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. Quite possibly, ASMT is nothing more than a group of hoodlums mashing together a giant maelstrom of creativity. Trying to wrap your head around some of the abstract reconstructions of simple platforming is no better than trying to make sense of the bizarre guitar riffs and drumming techniques used by the Stones. Their music is so simple yet so baffling, exactly as it is with this game, er hack. I suppose the same could be said for any of the other initial entries among the various community hacks, but they've never felt as creatively rambunctious as Talkhaus' budding candidate.

For those outside the know, A Super Mario Thing, or ASMT, is exactly that - in the words of Raocow - a thing. There's really no better way to describe it. But if I've got to knuckle down and spell it out, it's yet another community hack of everyone's favorite SNES game, Super Mario World. Much like SMWCP or the various VIP and Walls, ASMT is a full blown reinvention of the wheel; in this case 'the wheel' being Super Mario World. Everything from basic Mario platforming to outrunning Gutsdozer to facing off against a danmakufu inspired Touhou boss and ducking a runaway subway can be found within. However, there's a catch. Mario's nowhere to be found. Neither are any of the known fauna of Dinosaur Land, or heck, the Mushroom Kingdom. Well, that's not entirely true. There are a few known miscreants thrown in there; most importantly the Yoshis and the various Chucks, er Charlies. But then their essential given the game is based on Raocow lore as opposed to Mario lore. In many respects, that may be the hardest pill to swallow of all - the fact that there is enough Raocow lore spat out from his endless gaming non sequiturs on YouTube or elsewhere that an entire game can be crafted. And unfortunately, if you're unfamiliar with Raocowology, as the game puts it, absolutely everything will either fly right over your head or sound like nothing more than a bunch of verbose and/or ill-written cheese.

Despite not being part of Something Awful, Talkhaus, or any other corner of the net Raocow may inhabit, I've seen enough of his stuff on YouTube to understand the silliness that is Raocow lore. It is that lore which has set the foundation for ASMT, and I find there is one defining aspect that is the glue that holds it all together: nonsense. Pure and simple nonsense - but not in a Dadaist aspect or a Pythonesque aspect even, but in his own fantastical realm of perverse gobbledygook. And so we have ASMT, and Demo, an alien cyclops on her quest to obtain vegetables for her impatient overlord only to find herself deep in the turmoil of war between dinosaur and footballer. We will trek across plains, through forests, deserts, monochrome chalk drawings, abstract tapestries of color, and Kanji-shaped structures the size of mountains. It all sounds perfectly reasonable. Wait, how did we get from Mario to this?

As far as collab hacks go, ASMT is my favorite based on creative out-of-the-box thinking but struggles to retain such laurels as emulation tools become a de facto necessity throughout. While the difficulty easily cripples the game from shining as a perfect gem, a majority of the levels are a marvel to experience. However, I can only point towards the innovation within the levels, but not the level design itself, which unfortunately suffers from a lot of claustrophobia, pixel perfect jumps, and flat out unfair setups. With each successive level, it's a guessing game as to what the next gimmick may be, and nearly everything taken from Super Mario World is open to interpretation. Of course, some ideas may have been brilliant on paper but somehow translated poorly. An Echoing Call comes to mind - love the idea, and rather like the look of the level, but the overall cramped conditions defeat the novel approach to precise physics. Not to mention, after the hundredth time being interrupted mid-jump by that stupid speaker box, the level loses all its charm.

Interestingly, the first time I played the game, I loved it, though I was incredibly frustrated at times - especially the Yoshi h4xor area in the final level that rings reminiscent of Rampage, not to mention various puzzles throughout the desert world. It was one of those games that after finishing it, I could only breathe easy that it was finally done. Whereas something like Kaizo Mario squeezed all of its frustration and agony into a few short levels, ASMT spread it out across a whole game and refused to let up. Still, my lasting memories of the game were high which more than anything drove me to return for inclusion in Beat All Games. I regret my decision markedly.

While I knew attempting the game toolless was a venture in futility, I had to know how far I could manage. Not very. What a pathetic player I am. But seriously, while I hate abusing tools in emulated play, I feel no remorse using tools on ASMT as nearly 100% of the level design is asinine when it comes to balancing appropriate difficulty. It's flat out stupid at times. But I think a lot of the difficulty could have been more than acceptable if the game made use of more checkpoints. Only issue is I'm fairly certain the ability to set up multiple checkpoints wasn't available at the time, so not exactly an option.

To say I regret my decision markedly may be a tad harsh though, or at least misconstrued. Yes, the level of frustration throughout the game is through the roof, even with tool abuse. But it's the Dark Cloud or Faxandu syndrome all over again. My original experience appears to have been exaggerated by time. Levels I once thought were fun quickly became strolls down abominable lane. More often than not, as I entered a level, I was suddenly smacked with the realization of, 'Oh crap! This level." I had to mentally prepare myself for certain levels. Levels like Overly Hot Beach, CURRENTS, Over There..., and Trial of Iron, especially the Gutsdozer room and the h4xor room sapped all of my mental energy. Seriously, fuck those two rooms in Trial of Iron! I had to question how I ever managed them in the first place.

It's next to impossible to argue the difficulty in this game, however, I believe I placed far more emphasis on difficulty than necessary for this playthrough. Since I always include dragon coin collecting in my SMW 100% stipulations, the challenge of completing the game is definitely increased. Compared to my first playthrough, I know there were several levels that turned up the heat once dragon coins were involved. That's still not to say my abusive use of tools would have subsided had I decided to neglect the quintuple set of tokens spread throughout each level.

I don't think it's worth discussing any of the music at length as a majority of it is ported from other games. However, the music choices are phenomenal and is definitely one of the highlights of the game. Something I do want to point out though is two "jokes" that really ruined the tone of the game. First, the Cat Planet paroxysm - I get it, I understand why it's there, but it serves no purpose. As far as so-called easter eggs pointing out Raocow themed folklore, his overjoyed excitability regarding Cat Planet just seems so out of place. Maybe it's just me. Probably is.

Nano-Rant:

But wait, didn't you say there were two disconcerting jokes? Ah yes, so I did.

The second "joke" is one of those eye-rolling moments - no, it's more than that. It's one of those moments that made me think the maturity level in this game just dipped below the lowest of the lows. It's the type of moment that makes you question if it's even worth playing any more as you have no desire to support such juvenile idiocy used purely for a cheap laugh. Why, oh why, is there a blatant drug joke? Why? ...? I'm lost for words over stupidity like this. It adds absolutely nothing to the game, especially in a game that has zero correlation to said joke to begin with. I'm...fuckin' aghast....and that's all I can say.

Rating: 4 reasonably priced pantsuits out of 5*

*Tough to grade but creativity pushed the numbers more than anything.

SNES - Super Mario World

Haiku-Review:

a magical thrill,
or just a broken menace?
Feather? Yoshi!? Fie!!!

Additional Comments:

I feel there are two points I must state before I carry on:

1. Having, for the past four years, remarked on the Mario franchise come Christmas Day, I've found myself to be at a crossroads for next year. Where exactly does the Mario franchise go from here? Do I continue on with the Super Mario World nomenclature, i.e. what's commonly dubbed Yoshi's Island, or do I bound into the realm of 3D with Super Mario 64? Or, as a radical diversion, do I forgo several years of Mario madness and tackle New Super Mario Bros. on the DS? SMW2:YI seems the logical choice only because it's obviously meant to be a sequel if numbers are to be believed, however, from there, my next game would end up being Yoshi's Story - and so I've fallen out of the core franchise. I've never viewed Super Mario 64 as the sequel to SMW, at least in recent years, only because a definitive schism between the 2D platformers and the 3D free roams now exists. As such, Super Mario 64 feels more like an origin game. Of course, the Nintendo 64 botched all sorts of franchises when it came to sequels. NSMB, to me, seems the appropriate choice only because it follows the logic of the original 2D platformers. Sadly, NSMB Wii has already been commented on. Maybe I'll disregard all logical conclusions and play something from left field like Mario's Time Machine. Ugh.

2. Any reasonable comments I can dare make on this particular addition to the Mario franchise are sadly spoiled by my time within the SMWC community and urge to break its raw assembly code to bits. That is, at least those strings of code which I could manage to bust up on my own accord.

And so, without further adieu...

Super Mario World is a fantastic game - it's a broken game, but it's a fantastic game. I find that it often pops up in heated debates over which is better: SMB3 or SMW. It's a tough call - it really is. For me, SMB3 edges it out, and I think that's only because I managed far more replayability out of it over the years than SMW, although my time with SMWC would prove otherwise as I came to know the game as far more than just a game. I recall long nights pouring through its disassembly trying to figure out how this routine worked or other such nonsense. This may have both hindered and helped kindle my love for the game all the more. While I became far more intimate with the game than any other - even SMB3 - I also learned about all of the ugly programming Nintendo swept under the rug that not only made SMW a brilliant game, but an interesting romp through twisted malfunctions and botched tomfoolery. In short, this game suffers from some serious glitches, however, much like corrupting a game with say, a Game Genie, most, if not all of the glitching adds nothing but smiles and laughs. And wouldn't you know, most of the flawed gameplay is a direct result of either the feather or Yoshi. Heh.

But enough of the game's gremlins and their somehow amazing lack to cause detriment to the experience. Seriously, it's such a joy whenever I can pull off some of the unintended tricks with the feather. The game would have been well to do to be called Mario Air Show. Hmm, has that hack been made yet? If not, it should. I know how much people would detest it, as would I, but still worth the agony it would induce. Sheesh, an entire hack of levels similar to VIP's (^O^) Smooooth? No, thank you.

Being that it was the pack-in game, Super Mario World was the first game I got for the SNES. But my initial forays into the game took place on demo machines at various Sears. I remember one in particular where the game save had Mario exploring Chocolate Island and I was absolutely enthralled by the levels populated by running herds of Dino Rhinos and Dino Torches. But of course, like most, that one stand out moment was when I first stepped into Yoshi's Island 1 and saw a ballistic behemoth flying across the screen. I think it's great that Nintendo decided to drop an unexpected Banzai Bill in right from the get go as it allowed the SNES to show up the NES for what it really was. Never before had Mario faced such a magnificent menace, and I'm certain I can speak for so many of us who were lads in the 8-bit/16-bit era - our jaws were left hanging.

Super Mario World easily toppled all of those Mario games before it by sheer ingenuity. SMB3's overworld was awesome; seeing some of the various themes further expressed by localizing certain level icons added to the wonder of each world, such as the desert/pyramid levels in Desert Hill. SMW took the overworld a step further and compressed all the worlds into one giant map. Utilizing secret exits within numerous levels, the world quickly becomes a spider's web of available routes to Bowser. And while SMB3 also allowed for multiple pathways at times, it didn't exactly have the free-roaming feel that SMW dished up. Free-roaming may not be the best term, but there's definitely a feeling of personal freedom which up until this point has never existed in a Mario game. The only thing that's ever bothered me about SMW's overworld, however, is the lack of distinct world themes such as those found in SMB3, the Super Mario Land series or the NSMB series. Sure, it can be argued that themes exist: Vanilla Dome equates to cave levels; Twin Bridges, bridge levels; Forest of Illusion, forest levels etc., but it's not quite the same. When you take a step back and look at the whole world, the overlying theme appears to be generic grasslands with some spelunking thrown in here or some aquatic excursions thrown in there.

Moving into the levels themselves, there were some great ideas thrown about. I remember the first time I saw the fencing in Iggy's Castle and thinking how cool it was to flip from the foreground to the background. Too bad it never carried out its full potential; it was more a gimmicky aside. However, there were numerous other lifts, layer 2 gimmicks, and tricks that kept most all of the levels feeling fresh, even by the time you ticked off exit number 96. Add to that some interesting new abilities and Super Mario World is a solid platformer.

Unfortunately, over the years, certain aspects of the game have grown tiresome, but that's to be expected in any game. However, there's one aspect of SMW that seemed to take a bigger hit than most games and that's the boss fights. As a kid, I had no issue with them. I had no real reason to have issue with them as we had been given an assortment of boss fights that upped the ante on those found in SMB3. But there's something about the boss fights in SMW that instills a feeling of exasperation or boredom. Even with the Mode 7 effects, the Koopa kids feel hokey even though, fundamentally, they're really no different than the battles found in the various airships in SMB3. The Bowser battle is where the real eye-rolling happens though. Even today, when I play SMB3, the Bowser battle exudes excitement and a certain sense of anxiety. In fact, I still think it's one of the best Bowser battles out there. SMW's battle however is agonizing; not in it's difficulty, but how much waiting around takes place. Mario spends more time loitering than he does chucking Mechakoopas. I fully understand why Brutal Mario is (or was - not sure if it still has the same allure that it had circa 2008, but my guess is no) so appealing to so many noob ROM enthusiasts as it was one of the first hacks, if not the first, that ditched all the regular bosses for new, improved overlords.

And finally, there's the feather and everyone's beloved dinosaur, Yoshi. I love the feather. It's an incredibly overpowered item, but I love it nonetheless. It allows Mario to topple the world with total chaos in his hands. If you're inclined to disagree, watch any TAS of SMW and behold the unbridled power of that one item. Heck, just go watch an RTS to see what's capable by an actual player. Complete and utter anarchy! The downside is that it makes the game far too easy, however it's a blast exploring the levels and performing stunts Mario was never meant to perform. Yoshi, on the other hand, I don't care much for him. Never have. I know most people would decree blasphemy, but he's...just awful. I especially hate when certain secrets are reliant on him - actually, offhand, I can only think of one, but I know a number of hacks have increased Yoshi reliance tenfold. That more than anything may have led to my repudiation towards the reptile, but I know I've always been rather cold towards him. To me, he comes off as an annoyance. It's like Yoshi and baby Mario's relationship in Yoshi's Island - I have to do everything in my power to ensure that stupid infant is on my backside. Same here. Whenever I get Yoshi, my priorities become far more dino-based than they should be. Even though he's nothing more than a walking springboard with some extra life insurance, I feel as though I must ensure his safety for as long as humanly possible. Instead of letting him run free through the fields, I find myself scampering after him. Just let him go. In my opinion, Yoshi can be summed up in two words - two words eloquently spoken by the long-running Mario aficionado: Raocow.

"Stupid horse!"

All that remains, I suppose, is the music. Honestly, I can go either way with the music. The soundtrack, like all the Mario games that came before, is fantastic. And although they're short, the overworld themes have always had the most poignant melodies - hmm, much like SMB3. In fact, Forest of Illusion and Vanilla Dome may be two of the best tracks in the game. However, much like the boss fights or a few other certain aspects of the game, the music has grown dull over time, which again can be attributed to my time at SMWC and having to hear the same themes over and over again. If I had never stumbled across the ROM and/or hacking communities, the likelihood of becoming so disinterested in the soundtrack would have diminished exponentially, or even be consider moot altogether. I suppose there's pros and cons to modifying a game in hopes of extending its shelf-life. Eventually, even some of the much loved aspects of the game will become nothing more than cause for bellyaching. C'est la vie.

Nevertheless, Super Mario World is an amazing game and an incontestable must play for any avid gamer. It's one of the best Mario games out there, although I will always tout Super Mario Bros. 3 as the.superior title. So, go out, rescue those eggs and bring Bowser crashing to his knees!

Rating: 5 ameliorated hillocks out of 5

SNES - The 7th Saga

Haiku-Review:

seven hidden runes
by the kingdom's best they're sought -
a race to be king!

Additional Comments:

When I first got into emulation some years back, The 7th Saga; along with notables, Flashback and Drakkhen, was the first game I plunged into guns a-blazin'. The only insight I had into the game was that it was an RPG, and very likely a turn-based one at that. Chosen haphazardly perhaps, the decision was made based on knowing the game by name, but knowing next to nothing about it. Obviously, with a veritable bounty of games at my fingertips thanks to emulation, there's so many other RPG's I could have nosedived into, but I'm also the one to veer towards those little known titles that hide in the shadows. Sorry, Secret of Mana, you've been snubbed. What a blasphemous asshole I must be?

Unlike my soured runs of Flashback and Drakkhen, I pushed on with The 7th Saga. Surprisingly, despite its flat, repetitive gameplay, I found the game enjoyable. True, it's no better than a mediocre attempt at a Final Fantasy clone, but the game had a certain quirkiness that I found myself attached to. Between the crudely drawn Mode 7 overworld, the Dada-esque collection of Engrish-named horrors, and the sort of Might Makes Right mentality among the heroes, it just felt worlds apart from any other RPG while still relying on the same stale mechanic that has plagued each and every turn-based RPG since day one. Somehow, these curious nuances elevated the game; not into something necessarily better, but something a tad refreshing.

Eventually, my emulated run hit a brick wall. Somehow I lost track of my priorities in the game and managed to corner myself in the northern confines of the continent with no inkling of where to go. (Not to mention, I think I deleted my .srm file by mistake at some point.) Ah well, until another day.

Here it is a few years later and what do I find but a physical copy in my game collection. Huzzah! Sounds to me like a perfect time to try and conquer this game once and for all. Second approach and I decided to use the exact same lineup as my first attempt: Valsu Saizer with Olvan Jaess as the companion. Not only is it a perfect balance between might and magic, but the two of them together are a total powerhouse team - surprising since white mages are rarely ever useful except in the early going. And despite Valsu only having access to a solitary offensive spell, it's still powerful enough in the end game to cause some damage - surprisingly more damage than Olvan can muster even while boosted with the aid of a Power spell. Huh. Heck, I had an easier time withstanding blows with Valsu than I did with Olvan and that...well, that just doesn't make sense!

While making my way through the game, I kept tabs on what some other people had said about this game and I saw the same two complaints time and time again: extreme difficulty and grinding abuse. On my initial playthrough some years ago, I faced the same challenges. I recall grinding a great deal after leaving Melenam and again between the kingdoms of Belaine and Telaine. Each new creature I faced proved to be the ultimate test of strength, and sadly I lost all too often. This time, however, I never truly felt challenged until the end game. Yes, I faced some tough opponents here and there that truly gave me a run for my money and I fell bravely in battle far too much - the church sure as hell got its fair share of money from me - but I don't think I ever reached a point where I'd call the game difficult. Even grinding fell completely to the wayside. The only time I ever felt as if the big toe of repetitive battle needlessly pressed down on me was before entering Gorsia's Tower, and that's only because I wanted to recoup some monetary losses I experienced during the battle with Gariso. Honestly, I had no real reason to fatten my wallet. But from a collective standpoint, I wanted the best of the best regarding weapons and armor, even if some of it wasn't wholly necessary, for example the Immortal Rod for Valsu. I never even used the thing so essentially it was an easy 40k down the drain.

Experience, ability, and power never betrayed me as I ran the course of the game. Even with my highly unorthodox route that I ended up using after landing in Dowaine, I always felt the leveling was exactly on par with the opponents presented. So I'm at a loss as to how the game lends itself towards such criticisms. Yes, most turn-based RPG's do fall victim of grinding - it's just in their nature - but I think The 7th Saga managed to find a balance to stay just a step ahead of the nefarious cycle. But then, maybe it's the combination I used. Knowing how well Valsu and Olvan compliment each other, that's a very plausible hypothesis as to how I steered clear of this horrible disease. Heck, I managed to overcome the same issue in Final Fantasy by manipulating my party's abilities in the early going and that game is wrought with the pestilence of grinding.

I never felt like the game was at fault at any point. Ok, maybe one thing weakened my perception of the game: the ever present Curative Moebius, but even that meagerly skewed my opinion. RPG's, especially those by Square and Enix, are notorious for cyclical healing reliance during battle to help elevate the concept of difficulty. Forcing strategy to single out a particular character as a dedicated healer is no fun no matter how much you try and sugarcoat it. Lengthening battles by these means is not difficulty; it's tiresome bullshit meant to extend the life of a game ad nauseum. Difficulty should not equate to taking massive hits from the enemy only having to use every turn to heal the incapacitated with a dedicated patron of the white arts. Having a character solely for that purpose is asinine. Yes, healing should be an essential mechanic to any magic-based RPG, but not to the extant that most game companies portray it. And I'm not complaining because of the so-called "challenge" that comes with cyclical healing - on the contrary, it's not challenging. It's nothing but tedium and an unpleasant game experience. But then you have to ask, is there an easy fix? Easy? Probably not, since we as gamers have taken for granted that healing is as easy as spending a sixpence down at the temple or loading the old pack with a plethora of curative concoctions from the local market. All in all, medicines and/or restorative practices are perhaps too easy to come by. Why should I worry about woe when I've got twenty canisters of aloe at my side? Except in this game, the ease of medicine is exploited even further which brings me to another point - not necessarily a gripe, but a worthy talking point.

A very interesting element of The 7th Saga is the Runes. Essentially, these objects of power are what drive our heroes on - those who obtain all seven shall become king of all the lands. But not only do they carry a totalitarian dream; they also carry mysterious enhancements to help augment the bearer's own powers. Now that's one sweet deal and by the time you face Gariso, every stone is worth their weight in gold as they say. There is a downside to it all however. But what really makes the whole negative impact of the runes rather curious is that you don't even realize the problem until it's too late. With the freedom to use each Rune on the fly, they sort of negate the usefulness of a white mage. Again, this bolsters my original point that white mages are typically pretty useless in RPG's except in the early going. (Makes me laugh though since my main character was a...whelp, white mage. Ha!) Why waste magic when I have my runes? And sadly, you just sort of get used to it, that is until the safety net is pulled out from under you and suddenly those numbers next to MP matter a great deal. Strategy is no longer based on infinitesimal cyclical healing but rather, how much cyclical healing can I muster before I reach the comfort of the next inn? While personal magic and pharmaceuticals are still in abundance, it does at least bring some strategy back into the game regarding usage. Unfortunately, battles are still dragged down by needless convalescing, but by this point in the game you become pretty numb to it all.

As a final kick in the pants, the Runes play their swansong in the battle against Gorsia. Once you get the hang of how Gorsia's battle works, it's not that bad, but until you do, it's bloody murder. A whole lot of luck, against your favor, plays out in this battle since Gorsia enjoys flinging a home-cooked dark attack that easily causes twice the damage of even your hardiest warrior's HP. If it wasn't for the long ass trek to reach him, I probably wouldn't complain, but the cheapness of his battle strategy frustrated the hell out of me every time I had to spend an additional ten to twenty minutes making my way back to his humble abode. Thankfully, Valsu's speed capped out so I knew I had an extremely good chance of escape if needed - especially against those godforsaken Falocks.

But despite the aforementioned grievances, none of them were enough to drag the game down for me. Yes, it's a turn-based RPG which typically bore the hell out of me, but I never grew tired of this one. Even on my first attempt several years ago, I found the game enjoyable enough to keep pressing on. Unfortunately, I somehow backed myself into a corner and deleted my save. Otherwise, I'd probably have completed the game on my initial run. There's nothing exceptional about this game by any means and I can easily see why it's become one of the neglected titles from the SNES era. On the surface, it's a mediocre clone at best, but dig a little deeper and it's a unique RPG that pits hero against hero on a quest to be king. I'd say it extends its stay for a bit too long, but after experiencing the gameplay through two different perspectives regarding the Runes, I can appreciate it sticking around.

And finally, I cannot end without giving acclaim to the music. I love the music in this game, especially the overworld themes like Lux Tizer, Kamil Dowonna, or World Map. They're all so otherworldly in a strange sort of way - almost mystical sounding. And then there's brilliant pieces like the adventurous Mecha Glider, the quaint How to Cross an Ocean, or the snooty pomp of Grand Palace. With the amount of songs listed, I should have just linked the entire OST. Yes, The 7th Saga is yet another game where the entire soundtrack is nothing but ear candy from beginning to end. (Dare I sneak in Great Achievement, if for anything, at least a good laugh? Dare I do indeed...)

Nano-Rant:

While I can appreciate the over-extended stay, I do have to say that it came at quite a surprise. For as long as it took to reach what I thought was the end, I was appalled to find that the game continued on. Of course, I came to accept it as the reasoning appeared sound, however it left me scarred enough to think that the actual end was yet another segue into the ongoing saga that is The 7th Saga, especially considering the rather disappointing, yet shocking end. Talk about crying wolf!

Nano-Win:

If only I could express how much I laughed when I was first introduced to the post-Gariso battle music, Battle in a World of Fading Hope, and what do I see but an H.R. Giger-inspired Ghoul dancing erratically while hiding his face as if to say, "Don't look at me!"

Rating: 3.5 mosquitoes out of 5

SNES - ActRaiser

Haiku-Review:

these beautiful towns
exist thanks to me - Earthquake!
my level increased

Additional Comments:

One particular genre I've always enjoyed is geographical sims centered around creating and maintaining a complex infrastructure, be it on a world scale, like the Civilization games, or on a city scale, like the Sim City games. I think it's just part of my long fascination with geography, cartography and overall world-building. More outlets to build worlds and drool over maps? Count me in. And so it goes for some time until one day, a friend of mine tells me about this game that combines world-building simulation and side-scrolling action. Hmm, I was a bit apprehensive about the idea as I tried to visualize the two mechanics meshing together rather clumsily, but it sounded intriguing nonetheless. So he let me borrow the game and I went home and popped it into my SNES. My jaw dropped. This was not just some simulation/action hybrid. This was a proud warrior standing tall above a rabble of meek and aspiring titles, all to fall short of ActRaiser's incredible ability to mystify and entrance the player with gameplay never before experienced.

That was me then. Thing is, unlike some of those early games that tricked me with a splendor of "magnificent" graphics or kitschy gimmicks like Donkey Kong Country, that's still me today. Ok, maybe I don't think ActRaiser is the king of kings in video games like I once did, but it still is an incredibly remarkable game that managed to blend two wholly opposing game styles into something that not only worked, but worked well. I will admit, however, that on the basest of levels, neither element is great in its own right (comparing apples to apples), but as a whole, it's more than functional and the various faults or annoyances can easily be overlooked.

Faults? For me, the game's biggest faults lay in the action sequences. While fun, they're a bit too straightforward. I can't quite put my finger on it, but they come across as simple - not in difficulty, but in presentation. Sure, everything that's dished out is brilliant - beautiful music, incredible graphics, and some nice sprite and object usage, but there's this lingering lifelessness that seems to overlap the platforming elements. It's the same sort of feeling I get when I play a Castlevania game - I fully understand why people like these games, but to me, they feel empty, cold or distant. There's something there, or rather, not there, that's keeping me from fully enjoying the experience. Additionally, the controls range from questionable to deplorable. Again, reminiscent of the lack of fluidity found in the Castlevania games, the controls are sluggish and at the worst of times, feel downright unresponsive. This feels most prominent when quickly alternating between left and right movement with the purpose of attacking opponents on either side. And the unresponsiveness really kicks in when attempting to jump and attack - in fact, as many times as I've played this game, I'm still a little uncertain as to how jump attacks are best meant to be executed. But don't think I'm out to find ways in which I can rake this game over the coals. Honestly, for this style of action platformer, the controls aren't that bad. The problem is every once in a while, you'll come across small pockets where you're forced to contend with the more noticeable issues, or should I say, the issues become more noticeable. For instance, I especially found this to be the case in Northwall's Act 2 in regard to some of its narrower vertical sections.

Still, the action sequences accomplish their required goals. They present a worthy case: they are well representative of their respective worlds, fare well in difficulty, and are finished off with a formidable boss - although there are a couple that leave much to be desired such as the pitiful Antlion. But what of the simulation sequences? Uh, hmm.... To be honest, there's very little to complain about, if anything. Other than getting stumped if you let the population stall out far too early, the simulation mode is well made and fun to boot. It's so cool to watch those tiny people face adversity and build a bustling town, despite those giant floating skulls of gold that would love nothing more than to devastate the entire land with their telekinetic seismic powers. Be it in the burning heat of Kasandora, the balmy jungles of Marahna or even the frigid cold of Northwall, these people will stop at nothing to see their lands settled and their communities prosper. Well, almost nothing. You do have to help transform the land, making it suitable for growth, whether it's washing away the sands of Kasandora with rain or melting away the frozen tundra of Northwall with the sun. And with that, my one and only gripe emerges - that little cherub constantly having to state the obvious and request confirmation. Yes, I want to send a ravaging earthquake through these lands. Yes, I want to wash away the desert sand, just like I wanted to the other twenty-three times - are you freaking kidding me!? Why is there no ability to skip over any of this. Sure, I can increase the speed - which is laughable in itself, because seriously, who's going to willingly set their conversation speed to 1? But yea, a speed increase just isn't going to cut it.

So there it is, a game when taken as a cohesive unit, is just simply incredible, but when you break it down to its core parts, there are some grievances that begin to surface. But again, my criticisms are not meant to be taken too seriously. Sure, the controls piss me off in the action sequences, but on the whole, I can easily forgive them, because the bigger picture is simply fascinating. It's easy to sweep the unwanted debris under the rug and just sort of forget about them. Annoying cherub, what? Exactly. Forget about it. The simulation is a total joy and is perfectly intermixed with some eventful action scenes. And add to that an incredible score; heck, not only is the debris out of sight, it's out of mind, by miles.

And speaking of score, I could list the entire soundtrack. It's that good. But I'll just list a few, namely Birth of the People, Northwall, and Peaceful World. Typically, I'm a bigger fan of Sega's chunkier sound engine, but ActRaiser is one of those games that really made the Super Nintendo's sound engine shine. Video game soundtracks had never sounded so awe inspiring, so full of depth and emotion. Somehow, I almost think that there's been very few that have ever managed it since.

Nano-Rant:

Let this be my apology and admission to fraud. I have failed the very core of my mission statement in regards to ActRaiser - to complete these games in full. I must admit that this I have not done. Yea, I beat Tanzra (a joke of a boss if you ask me, although the rest of Death Heim - especially the first two bosses - we're of a different color). But then.... The end - and nothing but. Wait a minute, something's not right.

That's right, the game never looped, thus never allowing me to access Professional Mode. I stared at that end screen for at least twenty minutes; nothing. I strolled over to GameFaqs, just in case I was mistaken on how to access the secondary arcade-style mode. I found nothing that I didn't already know. What pisses me off the most about this is that this is probably the fourth or fifth time I've beaten this game in my lifetime and I still have yet to experience Professional Mode. I know I'm not missing much outside of an upgraded difficulty curve and lack of simulation mode, and based on my side-scrolling control aversion, I should be happy. But it's the principle of the thing. Not so much for Beat All Games, but for the fact that I should have a fully functional game. Argghhhh!!

Rating: 4.5 loaves of bread out of 5