GBC - Pokémon Pinball

Haiku-Review:

with luck will I find
these wee damnable creatures -
thank god for Savers!

Additional Comments:

What a ridiculous game. No, seriously, mixing pocket monster collecting with the age old scraps of arcades and bars - ye olde pinball machine. But alas, pinball in console form has always been weak tea at best. Pinball will never be pinball without the fast-paced, bumper to bumper, ball-spinning action, and without the ability to really throw your weight into the side of the machine, well tilting just isn't the same - just an embarrassing attempt at imitation. Nevertheless, I've always found myself attracted to console pinball games. Yea, I know they suck compared to the real thing, but still, it's pinball. There's just something about popping that ball through all of the clever contraptions and raking in the thousands upon millions of points. Hell, I remember playing Pinball on the NES way back when as a little kid and loving it. Talk about a crappy pinball mock-up, that game was awful, but it was fun and I was entertained for hours trying to bag the high score.

So, while perusing through some games, I had the desire to play some retro console pinball games. While looking through my NES games, I began wondering what some of the more modern updates might be like, so I delved into some GBA games (ok, maybe modern isn't the right term here, but figuring I mostly play stuff from the 8-bit/16-bit era, yea the GameBoy Advance is modern). I dug up a game called Pokémon Pinball: Ruby & Sapphire. Eh, did I really want to play more Pokémon stuff? Well, it was pinball so why not? Honestly, the game surprised me. It was really enjoyable and the addition of a collection element burgeoned a whole new dimension of fun that I just wasn't expecting. But after a while I got to thinking that there had to be a predecessor to Ruby & Sapphire, otherwise why add the parenthetical? After some digging around, I found exactly what I was looking for.

After collecting about 150 Pokémon, I disparaged over stepping away to play what would obviously be an inferior game, due to the evident limitations between the GameBoy Color and the GameBoy Advance. But as I've stated before, I would like to try and knock out a series in sequential order if and when possible. And my immediate impressions were just that; I was suddenly playing a lackluster title. After fumbling around both the Red and Blue boards for a bit and managing to collect a couple dozen Pokémon, I just wasn't experiencing the same level of enjoyment that I was with Ruby & Sapphire. And after finding out what I had to do to get Mew, forget about it. I mean, come on. The Mewtwo bonus stage is ridiculous enough as it is, but I've got to do it twice? You've got to be kidding me! Jirachi wasn't even this much of  a chore to obtain in the follow-up. But then, figuring that Mew is absolutely impossible to get outside of cheats or glitches in R/B/Y, I guess I should be happy that Mew is this easy to obtain.

Eventually though, the game started to grow on me. Maybe it was just time, after all I've been slowly playing this over the past few months steadily building up my Pokémon database. And for a while, I just enjoyed it for what it was at its core - a pinball game. I spent hours trying to tally an impossibly high score, which isn't all that hard to do by the way once you open up the Mewtwo bonus stage but purposefully fail to complete it. I already had Mew, so why bother? But then the time came where I just wanted to get it over with and finish compiling my Pokédex, which is no easy feat. Some of those rares are damn near impossible to find, especially Pinsir, but more on that later.

Anyways, what started as a simple bump in the road turned out to be a decent game. True, I don't see this as a title that I can sell someone on - one part Pokémon, two parts lame-ass console-based pinball - bleaggh!! But it managed to accomplish exactly what a console pinball game should be, and that's all that counts for me. Besides, add in a bit of a collection mechanic to make it carry a bit more merit than just simply a high score and I'm totally game. It's a time-killer really, and other than offering top score bragging rights, isn't that what pinball is all about?

As far as music? Well as usual, and just like the music from any Pokémon game, I found it wholly detestable upon first listen, but over time it somehow grew on me until I eventually realize that all Pokémon games actually have great music. However, I'm still suspicious that it's all just a dirty trick. Since nearly all Pokémon games last for an ungodly amount of hours, you're forced to listen to these themes for days on end, so it's only natural that you'll grow to like it...or shoot yourself somewhere along the way, praying for tinnitus to set in so you don't have to listen to this cheeky bullshit anymore. Then again, I've spent an unprecedented amount of time on both Morrowind and Oblivion and I still hate the title tracks in those games. Anyways, try out the Blue Field: Catch 'em/Evolution Mode or Seel Bonus Stage for your listening pleasure.

(a not so Nano)-Rant:

Now then, let's talk about Pinsir and what a rat bastard that insectoid, clawed fucker is. The amount of time I spent trying to find this asshole was completely unwarranted. First of all, Mew, who in theory, should be the hardest Pokémon to come by, I managed to capture before I even had 50 total in the database. The thing about Mew is that you have a very specific set of guidelines that need to be followed - beat these games, beat these games again, travel to Indigo Plateau and then you have a 1 in XX chance that it'll appear (XX supposedly ranging anywhere from 16 to 32). Beyond this, I've seen various other arguments for objectives that must be completed in order to catch Mew - I certainly can't vouch for the validity of anything else, although I will admit that I had a Master Ball when I caught Mew. And you know what, Mew was the third Pokémon I had appear after completing the prerequisites.

So, what do we have to do to get Pinsir? Well, other than sit around in Celadon City (or Safari Zone?) - a whole lot of rinse and repeat in regards to Catch 'em Mode and having a hell of a lot of patience. Goddamn, you need some patience to coax this guy into appearing. At this point, I had 150/151 Pokémon (note that my Pokédex actually read 150/150 because I hadn't even seen Pinsir yet). I only had one stupid little creature left to bag and what did I have to rely on? The worst fucking RNG in gaming I've ever seen!!! There it is - it's all on the table now. Random Number Generators: they're great when they work but damn, do they just suck all the joy out of a game when they don't. I don't know how many hours I spent, but it was a good three or four days by the time I picked off my 150th Pokémon until I finally said "Fuck this!" and decided to GameShark it. I had a real bad feeling that was going to be how it all came to an end, and I tried my damnedest to avoid the inevitable. But after three or four days of fighting with a pissant RNG, I just couldn't take it anymore.

Code in hand, I caught Pinsir and quickly gave the game screen the bird. Yea, a big FU will show that game who's boss. I let the rest of my balls trickle into oblivion so I could end this thing (which took forever in itself since I had racked up so many Again's by this point), and sauntered on over to the Pokédex to bask in my 151/151 glory. Wait.... What!? 150/151!?!?!? I saw Pinsir but didn't catch him? What the hell, man!? Well, I guess the game got the last laugh after all...or did it?

As infuriated as I was over the whole matter to begin with, I wasn't going down with this bullshit. No way.... But I also had no desire to wrangle the RNG either, so I entered the code once more, caught Pinsir and proceeded to level him through Evo Mode. Take that, you fucking game - 151/151!! Yea, maybe I had to cheat to take it down, but with an RNG that broken and stubborn, I feel no remorse.

(Hmm, I think I managed more expletives in this one rant than I have in the whole blog to date. [/over-exaggeration])

Rating: 3 damnable RNG's out of 5

SNES - The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past

Haiku-Review:

recall the adage -
keep in hand: Moon Pearls; don't turn
into a bunny

Additional Comments:

Having grown up with the NES, it is interesting to say that I managed to skip over the early games in the Zelda franchise without even so much as a wink of desire to play them. I know that's a pretty rare statement, but as I said in my post for the original Legend of Zelda, they just never really piqued my interest, especially since I was such a fan of games revolving around side-scrolling action. Then came along A Link to the Past, and my opinion of the Zelda games was completely uprooted. First it was the commercials. The "wow factor" tactics that the commercials utilized were incredibly effectual, and the stunning visuals just grabbed me. I still remember seeing those LTTP-style Hylian trees for the first time - their beauty just made you want to weep.

However, as amazing as those commercials were, I sadly did not come to own or play this game for a number of years. I guess their tactics were just an inch shy of perfection. Actually, with the arrival of Nintendo's shitbox - the Nintendo 64 - I jumped the fence without hesitation and became an avid consumer of Sony's new toy on the block, the PS1. With my dismay over the N64, I sort of lost touch with Nintendo's games, only bothering to play those favorites of my youth, such as Super Mario Bros. 3 or F-Zero. It wasn't until sometime in the late 90s, after discussing video games with a friend and mentioning how I had never played a Zelda game, he let me borrow A Link to the Past. As soon as I got home, I popped the game into my console and never looked back. Holy crap, I can't even begin to describe my initial impressions of the game - how incredible it was, how much fun it was...how...how much I couldn't believe this is what I was missing out on all those years. I spent every waking moment for the next three or four days trying to figure out puzzles, fighting Ganon's hordes of swarthy creatures and just generally exploring the beautiful Hylian countryside. My one and only trip up during that initial playthrough was when I had to dig up the ocarina. Somehow, I either missed or ignored the text explaining where I should dig, and ended up spending a few hours digging holes across all of Hyrule. Boy, did I feel like an idiot when I finally found it. Otherwise, discounting that single hitch, I managed the game rather easily on my first try and enjoyed every single minute of it; vaguely remembering the last time I had that much fun on an initial playthough of any game prior. And still to this day I'm not sure - SMB3 and Mega Man 3 are probably the only games I can genuinely think of in those regards.

Since that time, I've played and beaten LTTP numerous times and still love the game just as much. Interestingly, despite its "puzzle" mechanics, the puzzles never grow dull or tiresome. Although the solution is readily apparent, after years of play, I still enjoy figuring each and every puzzle out. Somehow, this game managed to make the puzzles timeless, which is definitely no easy feat. I can't explain how or why that is, but it certainly lends to its overall enthralling nature.

As far as the series is concerned, and out of those titles that I've actually put a concerted effort into playing, A Link to the Past is my second favorite of the series - just barely squeezed off the top step by Wind Waker. I know Wind Waker's a controversial pick, but for me, everything in that game is just spot on while managing to take a step back from the typical Zelda setting. But my thoughts on Wind Waker are for another time. However, despite being toppled by Wind Waker, the one element that I think LTTP managed to execute with absolute perfection is the item usage versus the overworld's puzzle architecture. True, most every game that followed LTTP handled overworld puzzles with near equal finesse, they never felt as genuine. To me, it seemed like the designers crafted LTTP's overworld with every single item in mind - knowing full well when items became available as well as when certain areas would/should become available. As such, they were able to create a complex overworld, as far as incorporating unique item puzzles, while still retaining an overall natural progression and feel throughout. Subsequent games, however, always felt like they had their overworlds designed first without any inclination as far as what might be included in the game outside of the common items seen throughout the franchise, like bombs or the hookshot. Then, once the game came into focus regarding the overall mechanics, the designers returned to the overworld and either modified small, congested areas in which they could place an item puzzle, or just outright tacked on an unnecessary element, thus discarding any sort of natural cohesion between landscape and puzzle.

And speaking of franchise comparisons, I know Ocarina of Time is often tagged as the most revolutionary of the Zelda games. Personally, beyond turning the series into a faux first person design, I disagree. Ok, there's more to it than that, and I admit that OoT did wonders for the series, but in my opinion, it was A Link to the Past that really set the stage for the fundamental mechanics of how a Zelda game should operate. Sure there's elements in LTTP that can trace their roots to the original Legend of Zelda, such as the boomerang or heart containers or the Master Sword etc., but I don't feel like they had any sort of inherent weight or meaning until LTTP came along. It's sort of hard to explain in words I guess, and I know my argument sounds hollow. Hmm, to put it another way: I sort of envision LoZ was created out of a mesh of random, undefined elements - sort of like a giant pile of "things," ie your dungeons, enemies, items, currency and so on. Basically, a lot of stuff that they eventually molded into a world, although rather haphazardly like a puzzle that doesn't quite fit together. Then came along Zelda II where it seems like they tried to remove that feeling of improvised creation, except they roughened up the edges around the rest of the game as a result - the puzzle pieces now fit, but for what purpose. With the third installment, suddenly everything just made sense. Everything had a clearly defined role and was well represented no matter where it appeared in the game. This is the big breakthrough that I think defined the series - not the eventual 360° total world interaction that OoT eventually introduced. I know it sounds odd to call that an innovation, or as I think of it, the innovation, but to me, this is the game that laid the proper groundwork for everything that was to follow - not the original LoZ and not OoT. Oh, and before anyone bothers bringing it up, no, my opinions of OoT are NOT influenced by my obvious hatred of the N64. Ocarina of Time is a fantastic game - it's the system that's a total letdown. In fact, I first played OoT on the GameCube with the Legend of Zelda: Collector's Edition disc, so yea, the N64 never even had a chance to influence my impression of the game. Hell, I didn't even see the game until I bought the GameCube edition.

Anyways, enough quibbling over which is the best or which is the most revolutionary. It's all conjecture when you come down to the nitty gritty I suppose. But that doesn't stop me from stating my belief that A Link to the Past feels like a near perfect game, not just in the scope of the Zelda franchise or within the SNES library, but in the vast video gaming empire in general. From the ease and fluidity of the mechanics, to the beautifully drawn graphics, to the enchanting soundtrack and the intricate, yet solvable puzzle design, this game just nailed it.

And yea, as far as music, who wouldn't love the soundtrack? Whether it's the charming Kakariko Village, the ominous Cave, or the snooty Hyrule Castle, the music is finely crafted and an absolute joy to listen to. No matter the location, the soundtrack properly represents the involved emotion or intended atmosphere.

Nano...what?:

Chris Houlihan room what?

Rating: 5 bunnies out of 5

TG16 - Blazing Lazers

Haiku-Review:

accepting lasers
as an admirable weapon
is it possible?

Additional Comments:

Wait, so there's actually an STG that has a decent laser? Incredible, but it's true!

What's funny is that a while back Sven and I were joking about how in most platformers or STG's, lasers, though cool by admission, are just completely useless weapons. True, their power is typically unmatched by any other weapon, but their speed, range, or rate of fire is just atrocious. Our conversation stemmed from an opinionated afterthought regarding Contra III by another friend of mine who believed that the laser was by far the best weapon in the game. Well, for me, the laser is the one weapon in that game that I will deliberately go out of my way to avoid, as if it were the plague. There is nothing that will bring that game to a sudden, grinding halt like attaining the dreaded laser - might as well just jump off a cliff and start the game over. Now, maybe I'm being a little harsh by grossly stereotyping the mass assembly of light-emitted weaponry, but let's face it, there's a definite commonality going on here - a slow-firing burst of absolute power - and for fast paced games, it's a guaranteed failure. I don't know, is the trade-off for power really warranted? As someone who will always choose speed or maneuverability over brute strength; that's a big emphatic no. Basically, what we're dealing with here is the Bowser or DK of the shoot 'em up world.

So what's all this about a decent laser if you're so quick to slander the thing? Well, I have to admit, not all lasers are created equal. Somewhere out there is a game that managed to turn the laser into an absolute badass of a weapon, and that game's name is Blazing Lazers. Heck, it's in their name! This game rewrote the book on laser mechanics in an STG. Not only is it an amazing weapon, it's quite possibly the best weapon! (Or damn near close - I have to admit, I still prefer the spread shot, which I'll explain my reasons later on.) So how can this possibly be? STG's, especially space shooters, typically contain the same set of weaponry, so even if you've only ever played one - like an R-Type or Gradius, you're still able to ascertain what kind of weapons will be available: a basic single shot gun and/or rapid succession variety, some form of spread shot, a shield, an assist, and possibly some sort of homing missile. Did I forget anything? Oh yea, a laser - and don't forget the disgust. Ugh....

With most shooters, I will usually grab the spread shot or homing missile and refuse to budge an inch regarding alternate choices. However, with Blazing Lazers, once I understood the weapon and upgrade system, I found the laser to be the prime choice since it too has somewhat of a spread effect. Sure enough, the rate of fire was down compared to the other weapons, but the way the lasers snaked across the screen, the slow ROF was barely noticeable, especially when paired up with a couple of assists. And who doesn't like assists? Myself, I try to use them as much as possible, that is until I realized the benefit of the firepower enhancement. Holy shit! Coupled with the laser and you've got yourself one badass mother. Firepower will turn the laser into a homing snake of evisceration that contains at least twice the firepower of any other weapon in the game. However, it does come with it's limitations. Unfortunately, firepower will return your laser to a single beam; therefore removing the illusion of a decent rate of fire. Back to the drawing board. Or is it?

My personal opinion, or at least what I found worked the best: the firepower enhanced laser works best for the first half of the game while a firepowered enhanced spread shot worked best for the second half, especially the last two stages. Seriously, I wouldn't recommend using anything but the spread shot for the last two stages, which I didn't realize until my playthrough on Hard mode. And despite Hard being far more difficult than Normal, the last two stages were a cakewalk as I blazed through them with the spread shot. Actually, on my first playthrough which was on Normal, Area 8 just frustrated and confused me to no end. There are sooo many bubbles! And they are everywhere!! During my Hard playthrough, I eventually found that you can pretty much ride the right edge the entire time and avoid everything - well, almost the entire time, and besides, the later difficulties chose to prove me wrong. But as far as Area 9 is concerned, sit at the top of the screen with a full power spread shot and you're golden - no matter the difficulty setting.

Ok, so Areas 8 and 9 turned out to be easy once I figured them out. Areas 3, 5 and 7 on the other hand - goddamn! Those levels are brutal!! Now, a sort of self-imposed challenge I've always tried to abide by in STG's is to complete the game without using bombs. Of course, it never works, and this game is no different. In these three stages, I found myself spamming bombs like there was no tomorrow. Seriously, without the aid of bombs, I don't know how or if you can even fight your way through them. Fortunately, Areas 4 and 6 were well deserved breathers where I could stock any lost weapons or bombs. In fact, I completely strategized my latter playthroughs around this knowledge - all my war efforts being geared towards Areas 3, 5 and 7. And I knew that once I completed Area 7, the rest of the game was gravy.

As far as music, it's usually hit or miss when it comes to STG's. For me, Blazing Lazers came through and had a fairly good repertoire of music. Some of my favorites were Area 5, Area 6 and Area 8 (heh, Area 8's  music just added to the general kookiness that is Area 8). And hey, the Ending Theme's not too bad either.

And finally, as a TurboGrafx-16 game, what can I say? The game is fantastic. Not only, that, but the graphics were amazing. I know I keep promoting the system in a more than favorable light, but the system just keeps astounding me, even with its mediocre titles like Legendary Axe. I'm curious to see how Blazing Lazers compares to its Japanese counterpart, Gunhed, though from what I understand, there's really no difference at all. Either way, Hudson managed to make a brilliant game.

Nano-Rant:

There is something that really bothers me about this game though. The lack of difficulty modes. Seriously, what kind of STG decides to forgo difficulty modes? But wait, didn't you mention various difficulty modes in your above comments? Ok, you got me.

Let me explain. After my first playthrough, I was sort of left questioning as too whether or not I ran the full gambit of the game. I found it curious that there was no options screen upon startup, but figured it was one of those situations where a new difficulty will open up after you beat the current mode. Nope. Well, I'll be damned. But then I find out you can access a hidden menu by mashing the I and II buttons repeatedly while holding Mode (or whatever NEC calls the Select button - wait, is it actually called Select? I forget) where you can set the difficulty between Normal and Hard. But wait, there's more. Inside the secret menu, you can  mash the same set of buttons while highlighting one of the aforementioned modes to bring up another, yet harder, mode - but you've got to do so for both modes if you want both of the additional "bonus" modes.

What the hell? Why is the difficulty menu such a pain in the ass to find? I can understand if you had to mash a bunch of buttons on the opening screens to find a debug menu or access some sort of cheat, but to make the game harder? Maybe I'm missing something. But then, what I really want to know: why can't you just press Run to exit the difficulty menu? Why do I need to press a combination of buttons!? Sure, it's only two, but come on, this is totally unnecessary. After finding out how to access the menu, I spent five minutes mashing buttons just trying to get out. Arrghhh!!!!!

Rating: 4.5 floating brains out of 5

NES - Where's Waldo?

Haiku-Review:

stocking cap, glasses -
never ending walkabout
so, where is he now?

Additional Comments:

Well, after playing a string of solid games, I was bound to suffer some sort of abomination of the gaming world. I have to say, I've played some atrocious games over the years, but this just takes the cake, so much so that I would have to imagine that the developers are outright embarrassed over this horrible, horrible mess. And who are those developers? You've got to be kidding me - Bethesda!? For shame....

The real issue with this game is that the developers/producers should have known better. Sure, the gameplay aspect doesn't need to be fancy - simply find Waldo, point, then click - and this game does that. The problem is the artwork. Let's think back to the books and what made them so fascinating. The pictures were huge, full color drawings that managed to cram so much eye candy into small, pocketed areas while retaining an incredibly high level of detail. There was no mistaking anything, despite the pages being littered with hundreds of people, objects, gags and what have you. Even Waldo, no matter how well hidden, was still easily discernible from his surroundings. But take that idea and transfer it into a video game that can only use so many unique tiles and a maximum of what, eight colors? Forget about it. So to make up for the limitations, there's basically five or six unique, "shapely" figures while the rest of the people are just sloppily drawn stick figures. And then they're all jumbled together so haphazardly around the landscape that the whole screen looks like the remnants of a microwavable dinner explosion.

Furthermore, and this is what really got me, Waldo is not the easiest thing to find. Ok, he is once you know what you're looking for - which I admit, sounds a little strange if you happen to be thinking to yourself, I know what Waldo looks like. Oh, but you don't. Taking a look at the books again, we pretty much know there are three telltale signs to spot Waldo (five if you include blue jeans and brown shoes): his goofy striped bobble cap, those round, nerdy glasses and a red and white striped shirt. Obviously, the shirt is the most effective clue to finding Waldo with its red and white stripes. Fair enough, let's hunt down that red and white striped shirt - I'd have to imagine (or hope) my constant reiteration and conspicuous use of italics has not gone unnoticed here. Why? Because I found Waldo wearing a green and brown striped shirt in one of the stages!! What the fuck!?

*calms down*

Alright, so I played through Practice, where you're given the luxury of no timer, and fumbled my way through its two stages (seriously, I do not count the Cave as a stage, but I'll talk more about that later), trying to memorize what our stupid adventurer looks like so I can easily spot him when time becomes a factor in the latter modes. Of course, due to the color and size limitations of each pixelated character, the glasses were noticeably absent, so I had to rely solely on Waldo's striped attire and unshapely head-covering. Moving on to Easy, I located the red and white striped globetrotter in timely fashion, although various other discouraging gameplay faults hampered any sense of fun. And then we come to Medium - Train Station down, where the hell is he in the Forest stage? I spent the remainder of my time, some ten times over before I realized that the developers decided to take some liberties with the game regarding the harder modes and decided to swap Waldo's colors out. Why!? Why the fuck did they do this!? To make the game harder - bullshit!! That's nothing more than a blatant dick move. Seriously, what's the chance that someone, who has long had it ingrained in their head that Waldo wears a RED and WHITE striped shirt no matter the situation, might think: You know what? I predict Waldo has finally transcended fashion and may likely wear some butt-ugly green and brown striped shirts (or green and white shirts or whatever other random color schemes showed up in some of the latter stages).

Out of curiosity, I tried to track down an original manual to the game. Surely, there must be some sort of forewarning that the game has decided to go against everything we've ever known about Waldo. So, I found a pdf of a scanned manual, and thankfully, on page 6, the following can be found:

"In the medium and hard skill levels, Waldo always wears his characteristic striped sweater, hat and pants, but may try to fool you by changing his colors, making it extremely difficult to catch him."

Um, props that the company was considerate enough to clue us in on this, but for those of us without a manual, I guess it's just tough shit.  What's wrong with just sticking to the other implementations of difficulty: less time, larger stage area and smaller scope? At least none of that contradicts the Waldo namesake as we know it. Honestly, if it wasn't for Waldo sporting a red and white shirt throughout Easy, I would swear that it's  nothing more than a cheap excuse to mask an inherent palette limitation. Either way, it's unjustified, and in my opinion, is a prime example of why this game is utter crap.

Moving on, let's talk about the timer. On a primordial level, I find the mechanic useless; used only to introduce a false sense of difficulty. However, I understand its function within a puzzle-based game - Pipe Dream for example - as it causes the player to remain on their toes. The thing I find odd about this game though is that the timer is constantly ticking from the moment you hit start. Normally, I don't think it'd be much of a problem, but the developers decided to include an non-interactive overworld that takes forever to play out its automated moves. You easily lose 10-20 seconds on the overworld alone between each stage. So that 10 minutes you're awarded to complete Easy, after all the overworld shenanigans are said and done, you really only have about 8 minutes to complete the game. Again, why? Who were these braindead morons left in charge to make such asinine decisions regarding this game's production?  The stupidity present in this game just astounds me.

So, we have an untrustworthy adventurer who likes to change his clothing on the fly, a superfluous overworld that refuses to freeze the timer like it should and wears out its welcome almost immediately, incredibly juvenile artwork - yea, I know it's the NES, but seriously, that's no excuse - what else? Let's see: a stage that's a slot machine. That's right, a slot machine. All you have to do is get three Waldo's in a row and you win the stage. *facepalm*

And the music? Well, let me just say that I'm not even going to bother looking for links. It's annoying...let's just leave it at that.

So is that it? Eh, not quite. It seems I've forgotten to embellish my grievances of the Cave.

Nano-Rant Mega-Rant (as if everything before this wasn't a rant already):

How to put this delicately: What the fuck kind of stage is this!?

You're presented with a pitch black room - a cave. Every now and then Waldo will quickly dart across a small fraction of the screen, his image seen for roughly a tenth of a second. The trick is to click on him and then walk him over to the exit. The only saving grace is that an incorrect click will not deplete your time like it will on the other stages. With that knowledge in hand, it's obvious that playing the stage in the ideal fashion is pointless. It's better to just randomly click all over the place until you finally gain control of Waldo. What a fucking intuitive stage. I feel sorry for anyone who actually paid money for this game back in the day. Oh, wait, I'm not done. I nearly forgot about the hourglass icon. So it plays like this: once you gain control of Waldo, two icons appear on screen. One icon is a blank, white square - this is the exit. The other is a white square with the picture of an hourglass. Instinctively, I figured this would give me more time - something that seems to be at a serious premium in this game. Nope, it immediately subtracted an entire minute from my time. What the hell kind of bullshit is that!? The one interactive object in the game hinders my gameplay experience? Again, this is an instance where the game manual would come in handy, after all, there it is on page 8:

"If you wish to gamble, take Waldo to the hourglass first. Press the A Button here and you'll either win approximately an extra minute of time, or lose one."

Normally, I have no qualms about not being privy to certain information because I don't have the manual, but this is yet another instance where I have to question the intuitiveness behind the game's included features. Manual or not, I should be able to conclude what the icon will do based purely on prior gaming experiences that also use an hourglass icon. And having played countless games where an hourglass symbolizes some sort of benefit in regards to time, be it additional time or temporarily freezing time, it's natural to think this mechanic would remain constant. Therefore, it's instinctual - if you see an hourglass, you grab it. Why change a mechanic of a well known and trusted symbol? Again, like Waldo's alternately colored shirts, it's nothing but a dick move.

But hold on. According to the manual, it can add or subtract time. Ok, I suppose I can live with that, except that my first hourglass experience, like I said, killed off a precious minute's worth of time. Well, the hell with that hourglass. Why would I ever touch it again? Without prior knowledge of an either/or situation, I wouldn't. I guess I just got the short end of the stick by getting the worse of two outcomes on my first try.

Admittedly, half of my complaints could be attributed to a lack of information regarding the game, but I'd say it falls in the lap of negligence, on behalf of the developer, regarding established principles regarding both the Waldo franchise and gaming practices in general. Basically, Bethesda took a brilliant late 80s/early 90s phenomenon and seriously just fucked it up.

Rating: 0.5 non-animated moon jumps out of 5 (or better yet, is 0 out of 5 allowed?)

SFC - Do-Re-Mi Fantasy: Milon no DokiDoki Daibouken

Haiku-Review:

the music ensues:
Baron's son saves Fantasia
from evil Amon

Additional Comments:

What's this? A sequel to Milon's Secret Castle? Hot dog!!

I can't express enough how floored I was when I first found out about this game several years back. Milon's Secret Castle, long one of my favorite games on the original NES, despite a thick web of slander from the general gaming populace, always entreated me to a bittersweet experience - it's great, but I always wanted more. But alas, the one-off title from Hudson was all we ever got. Sigh. Well, that's not entirely true. Little did we know that game companies were pumping out incredible titles localized only for the Japanese market. Sure, as kids, we had an inkling that was the case; which was confirmed with the release of Super Mario All-Stars where we were first introduced to an alternate Super Mario Bros. 2 known as "The Lost Levels" - wow, a version that was an actual direct sequel to the first SMB as opposed to the bizarre and rather uncharacteristic DokiDoki Panic graphic swap that we got. So we knew that some Japanese-only games existed, but we didn't really know just how many of them there were. On top of that, the games were pretty much impossible to come by - importation and beaucoup dollars being the only option. I'll always remember hearing tales of that "one kid" in school who would spend exuberant amounts of money to import a Famicon along with a few games. Unfortunately, it seemed like that "one kid" always imported Japanese localizations of games we already had access too, only because the Japanese localization typically came out a few months earlier. What a waste of money.

With the advent of emulation, practically every game, regardless of localization, is at your fingertips. And with a fairly prevalent emulation and ROM hacking community across the net, there seems to be some degree of translation available. Although, when I first gave the game a whirl a few years back, I didn't have my hands on an English translation, so I was more or less lost in the dark when it came to story and what exactly the items did. Being a platformer (where "jump" and "action" are the dominant controls), and the fact that some instructional animations are presented in a series of beautifully drawn cutscenes, the language barrier was pretty transparent as far as being able to enjoy the game for what it is. Not like Madou Monogatari - sheesh, I still don't know how to do anything in that game. Regardless, I managed to track down a worthwhile translation for my latest playthrough and I have to say that it was refreshing to actually understand the storyline and read the descriptions of each item. Although I understood the usable items on my first playthrough, I had no clue what any of the instruments did, and for me, that was the most welcomed text translation.

But enough talk of localization, emulation and translations - let's talk about the game. Do-Re-Mi Fantasy is easily one of my top three favorite platformers for the SNES/SFC. Although I probably initially went into this game with a biased mindset, thanks to Milon's Secret Castle, I was not disappointed. The gimmicks, though I wouldn't call anything innovative, were well executed and gave the game a very unique feel. Even the world themes, again, nothing innovative here; they just felt so contemporary. Oh, and something else I have to touch on regarding these Japanese games: the artwork is just gorgeous. It's not true for every Japanese-only game, but some of them - it makes it seem like a lot of the US games got stuck with the B-team artists.

Now, compared to Milon's Secret Castle, Do-Re-Mi Fantasy is so wildly different that, apart form the bubble shooter, if you didn't know it was a sequel, you would have never known. Whereas Milon's Secret Castle was more of a puzzle game (yea, I'm aware that most people think otherwise, but I also think that's why a lot of people mistakenly hate the game - they don't understand what kind of game they're playing. Naysayers can refer to my post about Milon's Secret Castle), Do-Re-Mi Fantasy is a rudimentary, point A-to-point B platformer. Outside of a few hidden bonus rooms, which included some cool little bonus games by the way, this game is completely devoid of any sort of puzzle mechanic. And that's not to say it's bad...or good, but a stark contrast to the original while retaining some of the defining features that made the first game so great, like an overarching theme steeped in music or Milon's trusty, yet oft criticized, bubble shooter. Additionally, the health bar has been swapped out for a much more engaging hit system that utilizes outfit upgrades.

For the most part, the levels are short and sweet. Each one focuses on a unique gimmick, often depicted on the overworld itself, giving each level a clearly defined individuality while encompassing the overall theme of the world. For instance, World 1 is a generic forest world, but there's a stage built around a log fume ride or a stage engulfed in strong winds. Sure, you can say that's true for any platformer, but there's something about this game where it never feels recycled for the sake of making additional stages like a Donkey Kong Country or even an early Super Mario Bros. game. I'm not going to lie, I love having countless stages, especially in the SMB series, but there comes a point where the stages grow stale or repetitive and eventually just start blending into each other - prime examples being the entirety of DKC or World 5 of SMB3 (which it shames me to say because of how much I love that game). Basically, this game plays more like a non-OW platformer - the type of platformers where all you get is a good, solid seven to eight levels of intense platforming genius and you're done. But somehow, Hudson took that concept and managed to spread it over some 40-50 levels and make it work.

Finally, I can't talk about this game without talking about the music. Not only is the music fantastic, but I love the use of atmospheric tracks as well, namely Church Bells Ring. Anyways, just to name a few (more musical) tracks, try out: Through the Woods, Dessert Paradise, or Staff Roll (wait a minute, is that an early precursor to Gentle People's Journey that I hear?). And speaking of Staff Rolls, is it just me, or do composers generally push their best work into the end credit themes?

Nano-Win (perhaps?):

So what's better than a sequel to Milon's Secret Castle? How about three additional sequels?

Ok, as far as I'm concerned, these sequels are nothing more than rumor. Supposedly, some (episodic?) sequels were released on the Nintendo Satellaview, but with nothing more than a few fragmented game lists and rather ambiguous bits of information scattered around the net, who knows what's really out there. I have "played" a game entitled BS Do-Re-Mi No. 2, but it was nothing more than adverts, articles and how-to-draw artwork - all in Japanese, mind you. Are there really three additional games? Maybe, maybe not. As long as the Satellaview is an unfortunate anomaly in the world of emulation, I say it's pretty much up to pure speculation at this point.

Rating: 5 children-eating snowmen out of 5

GEN - ToeJam & Earl

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

Nano-Rant:

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

Rating: 4.5 Wahines out of 5

PC - VVVVVV

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Win:

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

Rating: A solid 5 Murdering Twinmakers out of 5

NES - StarTropics

Haiku-Review:

yo-yo weaponry
to face denizens of space
in South Pacific

Additional Comments:

StarTropics has long been one of my favorite NES titles, despite it being nothing more than a mediocre Legend of Zelda clone. But there's something magical about this game that sets it apart from Legend of Zelda, or any other overhead action-adventure title from the 8-bit era. For me, it's the setting. True, the depth and scope may not be the same as say LoZ, but with such a unique setting - a lone archipelago in the South Pacific - it gives the game an unexpected breath of fresh air. Certainly, the game's spiral into space opera-esque science fiction could easily be compared to LoZ's high fantasy plot devices, but the fact that StarTropics' sci-fi nature just sort of creeps up on you slowly, and almost unpredictably, helps to differentiate the almost necessary evil of video game intrusion regarding wild imagination; which in turn helps to present the game as nothing more than a happy romp through the islands over the course of the first few chapters. To some, that may sound boring, but to me, I find it a daring and creative departure from the typical "fantasy" of most games. And by having that "fantasy" element introduced through a slowly evolving story, it caters a more plausible, natural progression, ideally softening the blow by the time we're dealing with it full force.

I am a bit up in the air regarding the overworld mechanic used in this game. Unlike typical overhead action-adventure games, the overworld is free of danger, which allows for an easier sense of exploration, however I've always felt they could have made exploration a bit more worthwhile. As it is, the exploration aspect is very linear, much like Zelda II, or incredibly useless offering nothing to further enhance the gaming experience. Sadly, the only optional material with any inherent worth is the gathering of hearts to further fill your life bar. But come the end of the game, it doesn't matter how many hearts you bothered to collect, because the second Cube raises your life bar to maximum hearts anyways. Additionally, a danger-free overworld sort of makes the whole concept rather arbitrary. It's only function is to allow for travel between chapters, meet NPC's (the vast majority of whom have nothing substantial to say) and seek out dungeon entrances. If the developers had at least worked to create more exploratory devices, it wouldn't matter. But as it stands, it's a lot of needless walking around - especially since most of the islands are designed in such a way that the paths are directly forcing you from point A to point B.

The dungeons, on the other hand, are fantastic. Basically, they come across as further developed LoZ dungeons - allowing for larger rooms through the use of scrolling and trickier obstacles thanks to Mike's ability to jump. Yet despite the obvious upgrades, the dungeons stay true to the overall design methods first introduced in LoZ: room by room progression with a number of rooms requiring the completion of a simple task or puzzle in order to move on, either by defeating all of that room's evil denizens or by finding a secret switch. And in latter dungeons, the exit might be hidden beyond a cleverly disguised false wall - ugh, I hated that concept in LoZ. At least they use a small telltale sign in this game. And finally, you have your lair bosses which are equally reminiscent of those found in LoZ - in fact, most of the enemies are, especially the Octot which could definitely be confused as Octorok's lost twin, sans the ability to fire projectiles.

Of course it could be argued that the dungeons aren't all that impressive considering LoZ came out in '87 and StarTropics in '90. Three years, and Nintendo's overall approach to dungeon architecture is relatively the same. But seriously, is that a bad thing? Personally, if it ain't broken, don't fix it - which seems to be exactly the mentality taken going into the game and I laud the developers for taking that approach if such was the case. However, I believe if you're going to stick to your guns regarding how a certain mechanic works, you shouln't necessarily take away from it, as is the case with item handling. Yes, there are a few variant weapons outside of the the yo-yo (which is eventually replaced with a laser gun known as the Super Nova), such as a bat, reflecting mirror, or blaster, but for the most part, I found them to be fairly unnecessary outside of a few situations in which they are required (fighting Dimhags for example).

Nevertheless, despite my grumbles, this is still one of my all-time favorite NES games. And yes, although it recycles old ideas, it manages to do so with such an intriguing twist that it ends up creating its very own distinctive atmosphere. Add to that some delightfully bouncy themes such as the Island Theme or the Cave Theme and you've got yourself a fun little adventure throughout the South Pacific. Needless to say, I enjoyed my latest playthrough just as much as I enjoyed my initial run some ten odd years ago.

PS: I can't possibly post this update without including the dreamy Treasure Room Theme.

Nano-Rant:

Ok, I do have one major complaint about this game: the controls inside the dungeon, or more precisely, the directional controls. I hate them - flat out hate them!! They are so goddamn stiff and lag-ridden. The hampered reaction time really creates some unnatural difficulty in a few choice spots in the latter dungeons. The jump and attack buttons however, are fine. I don't know what it is, but somehow, the d-pad falls disastrously short - even compared to the overworld's controls. How can the overworld's be so fluid, yet the dungeon's completely miss the mark? It's literally a night and day comparison between the two areas.

Additional Bonus Rant:

And seriously, how can game developers be so goddamn shortsighted to believe that a piece of paper, that you have to dip in water no less, expect to keep a proper life expectancy to continually coexist with the game pak ever and anon!? What the hell, man!?

Rating: 4.5 747's out of 5

SMS - Shinobi

Haiku Review:

secret ninja spells
used to trump the Ring of Five -
meh, I'll use a...gun?

Additional Comments:

Of the two major ninja franchises stamping their authority all over the 8-bit and 16-bit era consoles, I must confess that I've never really played Ninja Gaiden - not sure why, I guess the series just never grabbed me like it did everyone else. However, I am fairly familiar with the Shinobi series. Talking with fellow gamers growing up, I've noticed that the Shinobi games were always swept under the rug in favor of the more popular Ninja Gaiden series. Not sure if it was the limelight surrounding Ninja Gaiden throughout its early years while Shinobi lurked in the shadows; the fairly common NES vs. Sega mentality of the day; or if indeed it was just a better franchise, but it seemed like if it wasn't being snubbed by the general gaming public, than it was just suffering from absolute obscurity - except perhaps in the arcades.  Personally, I can't make a credible argument one way or the other. But with my own personal gaming experience, and honestly, a little Sega over NES bias, I've always felt compelled to play Shinobi before I'd ever give Ninja Gaiden the time of day. Maybe that's a bit harsh, maybe it's just pity, but hey - that's the reality of it.

To be honest, I like the Shinobi series. They're great games. But like I said, I've always been under the impression that gamers hold no respect for the series, and as such, I've always felt a bit embarrassed bringing the game up in topic, especially around those who I know love the "competition." Well, I guess it's about time to crawl out from under the rug and tout the series for what it is, so what better place to start than with the first in the series. Well I suppose the original arcade version would be a better place, but that's another story.

Now, I've read that the Master System port is the most accurate to the original arcade game out of the numerous ports out there. Figuring with ports on systems like the NES (wait a minute, how in the world did a game published by Sega manage to get ported to its direct competitor? Oh, Tengen was involved, I should have only guessed), the Amstrad CPC, the Sinclair ZX81 or the Atari ST, I find that plausible. Whatever the case, the game play is smooth and comfortably manageable, again proving that the Master System had some worthwhile weight to throw around after all. Now, despite my limited experience with Ninja Gaiden, I've always felt that the two games are fundamentally different. I've always found the action to be more akin to something like Bad Dudes or Double Dragon. Although I can't quite place my finger on it, the combined looks and feel are eerily reminiscent sans the egregious stiffness common to most beat 'em ups of the day. Maybe it's just my own lack of knowledge that's curtailing proper suggestive comparisons in this particular niche of games, but where Ninja Gaiden has always come across as a bit more platformish to me, the Shinobi games, at least the early ones, have always carried the epithet of missing link between action-based platformers and free-roam beat 'em ups like Bad Dudes.

There is a rather curious oddity in this game though - the appearance of a pistol as a usable weapon. While I see no problem with enemies procuring such weapons, I find it hard to believe that a ninja master would ever resort to such a weapon. Then again, ninjas used guns in You Only Live Twice, so I guess anything's possible. Nevertheless, I don't recall such a weapon in the latter titles - I'm fairly certain shurikens are the primary, if not only ranged weapon, and based on what I've read, such a weapon did not exist in the original arcade version. So why are they here? I've read that Sega added some weaponry for the SMS port, but a pistol? Come on!

And finally, I must speak about Ninjitsu, or Ninja Magic as it's called here. First off, I have to admit that this is the first time I've ever played the original title in the Shinobi series - up until now, I've only ever been familiar with the Genesis titles. Secondly, I hate playing games without the aid of an owners manual. That's not to say that I use them, generally I don't, but it's nice to have for convenience's sake - which has always made me wonder, why does it feel so demeaning to a gamer to admit using game manuals? It's like a man refusing to ask for directions - strange. Anyways, with the advent of GameFAQ's, which is a godsend to gaming by the way, game manuals hold little merit nowadays, but there are still times I wish I had one since with GameFAQs you're at the mercy of other gamers uploading personal interpretations of gaming manuals. Of course, there are sites out there that contain scans of original manuals, but I'm too lazy to bother with that. Seriously, if GameFAQs can't answer my question, then it's probably not worth knowing. And then came along Shinobi and its mysterious Ninja Magic feature that I know is there, but I don't have a clue how to use. That's right, I did this game without using Ninja Magic, and not as a personal self-imposed feat, but because I had no clue how to use it. I still don't. I began to think that it didn't even exist, but I've read stuff that states otherwise and even watched a small portion of an LP in which I'm pretty certain I spied some mysterious Ninja Magic shenanigans. I could be wrong though. I could be wrong.

Rating: 3 Black Turtles out of 5

Flash - The Last Survivor

Haiku-Review:

the last of my kind
and I must live as a block?
we'll see about that

Additional Comments:

So obviously there hasn't been anything new posted in some time. Let's just say I have a couple of games eating up more than their fair share of time right now...coughForza3andDDOcough...hence the lack of updates, on my end at least (ps, I've heard that Sven took down Torchlight - I just need to push a review out of him as I've been interested in reading it myself). Anyways, while browsing through DDO's wiki the other day, I suddenly felt the urge to look up some random browser games. Other than a few noted games that I have on my list that I've just been itchin' to play, I picked a couple random ones, and well, The Last Survivor popped up.

Overall, I find Browser/Flash games to be a bit of an oddity. For the most part, they're just mediocre stabs at showcasing a particular gaming element ad nauseum, but then sometimes you'll come across some that are just genius. Sadly, those "some" seem to be a bit rare. Another aggravating aspect of many of these games is their arcade and/or Atari-like construction, in that so many of them seem to be nothing more than randomized endless loops utilizing the archaic principle of the High Score. And finally, I hate, and will always hate, using a mouse and keyboard as any sort of controller, but I digress. Taking a step back from these games, you realize that a majority of these are made with seemingly a single goal in mind: to alleviate workplace boredom or to break the stale repetition of casual web surfing consisting of pointless RSS feeds and questionable weblogs about gaming - oh wait! Seriously, what better way to kill that nagging, empty feeling than by playing some mindless, simple games? And heck, you're likely to experience some genuine gaming elation from the more conceptualized works.

Whatever. Despite their shortcomings, like I said, there are still some really enjoyable, creative and/or outstanding Browser/Flash games out there. However, this is not one of them. Ok, that's a bit harsh. Honestly, The Last Survivor is a great little puzzle game. The problem is that by the time it hits its stride, it's over. Granted, and from what I understand, it was made as part of a contest in which the creator had 48 hours to slap a game together from scratch using whatever means necessary. Using that knowledge as a solitary platform, the game is great, but take that away, and it doesn't have a leg to stand on.

Now, at its core, the fundamental game mechanics from which the puzzles are derived are great - basic left/right movement, a simple jump and a telekinetic ability to move blocks around to help cross gaps, curb obstacles and climb incredible heights. And that's it - basic commands that can be exploited with limitless possibility. Unfortunately, the first 80% of the game is just needlessly drilling the tutorial concepts into your head with less than desired puzzles. Seriously, the puzzles were nothing more than "slide this block left" or "slide that block right." Sigh. But then, with the last few rooms, you finally begin to recognize the puzzling conundrums you hoped would be present from the get go. Still, they're difficulty is laughable, although I will admit that the second to last room stumped me for a bit. Nevertheless, that was the same room where I really began to see the incredible potential in this game, but instead I faced a subsequently easier puzzle only to be followed by an unexpected picture of our block...err, whiskered hero, rejoicing...err, relaxing in victory.

It's hard to give my honest opinion of this game because I can imagine so much potential and would love to see a fully developed version that really pushes the simple mechanics to the limit, thus creating some hardcore puzzles that require some serious use of your thinking caps. And if such a game came to fruition, I could definitely see myself enjoying it, because like I said, at its core it's a great game. Alas, that is not the case, so I'm left wondering what could have been if the game wasn't just a contest entrant. Oh well - so it goes with Browser/Flash representatives of the gaming world.

Rating: 2.5 Destroyer of Worlds out of 5

NES - Mega Man 2

Haiku-Review:

Blue Bomber returns
against 8 new robots and,
old wily Wily

Additional Comments:

Mega Man 2, the well renowned sequel where the series finally hit its stride, is argued by many to be the best within the original series, though personally, I favor the third installment. Regardless, everything in this game just feels perfect, even if some of the later mechanics were yet to be devised such as the ability to slide or charge your shot. This is one of those games, like Super Mario Bros. 3, in which I played it so much as a kid, the entire game is nothing more than second nature to me. However, it has been some time since I last played this game, so there are a couple things that just sort of snuck up on me - well, one thing really. In fact, I think the last time I managed a true playthrough is back when the Anniversary Collection for the PS2 came out. Damn, has it really been that long?

Yea, so as a result, I've pretty much forgotten the trick to beating Dr. Wily's second form with gusto. The bouncing balls are just a pain to dodge and quickly cycling through the various weapons, I couldn't really grasp what was doing what as far as damage. Oh well, Air Shooter was enough to the job, and that's that. It's just a shame that the first two forms of Dr. Wily are so much tougher than Wily's alien form. In fact, I think that's the easiest battle in the entire game, outside of maybe Crash Man, once you understand his pattern. What's funny, is that I think as a kid, I always regarded Crash Man as the hardest of the eight bosses. And now, he's the easiest for me to manage a no-hit victory. Go figure.

I know as a kid I've beaten this game on both modes on multiple occasions, though I'm certain Difficult never saw as much playtime as Normal. One thing I've always liked about this game though is how it treats the two modes regarding difficulty. Unlike most games that either find ways to hamper your energy or just throw in some extra sprites, this game instead opts to alter certain sprites by either adjusting sprite ROF speeds or enabling additional combat tactics altogether, such as with Blocky's ability to explode into pieces the first time it's hit. As a whole, Normal mode was more or less a cakewalk, but the overall difficulty in Difficult mode definitely feels exponential. Whereas I had no qualms about absorbing hits during each Robot Master's battle on Normal mode, I really had to think about the best method of tackling each battle on the harder of the two modes. Sure, I could simplify the whole process using the choicest weapons to target each Robot Master's weakness, but as I stated in my thoughts for the first game, I prefer to use the M-Buster as much as viably possible. I know I've beaten the game in the past using only the M-Buster on Dr. Wily's first two forms, but after about twenty or so deaths this go round, I just lost the will to keep trying, thus moving on to special weapons. After all, I just wanted to beat the game.

And, well, I really don't have much else to say. Simply put, there is nothing wrong with this game, so I have no place to complain about anything. It's very rare for a game to be that amazing in my opinion. Oh, and something that really solidifies the game's exemplary status is the soundtrack. Every single tune is just magical. For years now, either Wood Man's or Crash Man's themes have just suddenly popped in my head and I'll catch myself humming them for hours, and like I said, I really haven't even touched this game since probably 2005/2006. I think that alone speaks volumes on just how catchy some of the Mega Man music is, especially from this game. Other standout tunes, for me at least, include Quick Man's and Bubble Man's themes. Enjoy!

Nano-Win:

Holy crap! I managed to navigate the long disappearing block section in Heat Man's stage without having to resort to the usage of Item 2. I can't even remember the last time I conquered that area in an itemless fashion.

Rating: 5 Big Fish out of 5

GEN - Castle of Illusion Starring Mickey Mouse

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

Rating: 3 jumping A's out of 5

SNES - Donkey Kong Country

Haiku-Review:

a fruit-filled caper
spurs a monkey's adventure -
this game's bananas!

Additional Comments:

I vaguely recall my first encounter with this game as a store demo in what I think might have been a Sears. Upon first glance, I was completely stunned - the gameplay, the graphics, the animations - was this really a Super Nintendo game or have we all just been duped. Is this what 16-bit graphics were capable of? Then why has everything looked so, I don't know...flat up until this point. Not only that, the game itself was incredible. It felt like Rare had just introduced the world to a whole new level of gaming. At least that's how I felt back then.

Alas, that was my childhood - being sucked in by seemingly impressive graphics and clever gimmicks; not realizing that what I had before me was nothing more than a mediocre platformer. Blasphemy!!! Yea, I'm aware of the general accolades surrounding this game, but seriously, I'm sort of at a loss as to why. I've always held the game in high respects myself, and still do, but I think the game receives far more credit than it deserves. For one, I've never understood the appeal of the DKC graphical style. Way back when, yea, I'll admit I was impressed, but now when I look at them, they just look like horribly pixelated photographs, suffering from a serious case of compression artifacts. Hell, 8-bit NES graphics look better than this. True, there's still some great artwork in there - mostly within the levels, but the Overworlds should be nothing short of embarrassment, and they just seem to get worse as the game progresses.

As far as the levels themselves, outside an interesting gimmick or two, the levels begin to feel highly recycled. Now, I've attempted this game numerous times over the years; never really making it any further than the third or fourth world because, well, I'd continually become bored with the game. Nothing ever felt new, making it seem as though I had entered some sort of video game mobius. I also remember after a conversation with Sven about the DKC series a few years back, he sent me a TAS so that I could see what some of the later levels looked like without having to trudge my way back through the game again myself. After watching up through world four, I stopped the video. And I thought the levels were boring to play, the TAS made them seem unbearable. Not only that, it reassured my level recycling argument - especially with the aquatic levels.

Of course, some naysayers might claim that watching a TAS is boring to begin with. Well, maybe for you, but I actually enjoy watching TAS's. It's really interesting to see the "perfect" run through of a game. Donkey Kong Country, however, was equivalent to watching BassMasters. But really, I shouldn't let something like that skew my perception of the game. Ok, so this time around I tried to play the game with a non-biased mindset, either for or against, and just tried to enjoy the material presented. And honestly, apart from the aforementioned aquatic levels, I have to say, it's...not bad. But what's sad is that that's likely the best praise I can dish out for the game as a whole.

So is there anything good to say for this game that has supposedly stamped its authority all over the world of Super Nintendo? Well, yea, there is. First off, the music is simply incredible, as to be expected. I've already stated in my post for Banjo-Kazooie that Rare has this uncanny ability to compose masterful soundtracks, and once again they did just that. Hell, the first song in the game, Title Theme, is enough to hook you - a fantastic remix of the original Donkey Kong theme which planted the seed of the old-vs-new mentality that runs rampant throughout the game using Cranky's "words of wisdom." Beyond that, you've got greats like: Aquatic Ambiance, DK Island Swing, Life in the Mines or even The Credits Concerto (this song is pure fucking win by the way).

Secondly, despite the general feeling of déjà vu throughout the level progression, there are some really cool gimmicks thrown in there to spice things up, especially in the final world. Additionally, the ability to switch back and forth between DK and Diddy is pretty cool, but unfortunately their individual move-sets barely differ offering no real incentive to even bother switching between the two, therefore using the tag team effort as nothing more than extra hit protection. Yea, DK can perform a hand slap, but I can't recall using it even once throughout the entire game - ok, I used it once while testing out the controls at the very beginning of the game. And finally, DK's animal buddies add an extra joy, opening the doors to a little extra exploration within each level when applicable.

But alas, on the topic of exploration, I have to criticize the 101% completion status through achieved bonus rooms. For the longest time, and I suppose this is through my own stupidity, I always thought the KONG letters accounted for a majority of the game's completion percentage. The first time I ever beat the game I remember I achieved a measly 53% or thereabouts. And I remember I tried like hell to achieve as many KONG letters as I could in each level, except for the ones that were in the middle of pits, which at the time I had no idea you could perform a roll jump. Anyways, I eventually realized my folly and that it was in fact the bonus rooms that made up the greater percentage of the game completion status. Sonuvabitch!! Now I have no problem with cleverly hiding bonus room entrances, but this game really went to town with placing bonus barrels off-screens. Seriously, how the heck am I supposed to know there's a barrel down in that pit!? Oh, there's a nearly invisible 16-pixel wide strip of color down there indicating the top of a barrel. Fuck you!!! For the most part, chucking barrels at a cliff or blindly following a strangely arrayed set of bananas is one thing, in fact that's the type of stuff I expect, but expecting the player to randomly chance suicide in hopes that a barrel might be hiding out below is flat out stupid!! In my opinion, nearly half of the bonus entrances are built around bad level design. If I was playing the game with the sole intent of victory, I'd have no problem since most of the issues I have with the game can be easily overlooked - after all at its core, it still is a great game (though I say it begrudgingly). But some of the crap you have to chance just to find some of those rooms - it's not even exploration at that point; just blindly stumbling around in the dark. And why, to get that little star on your game menu and have Cranky congratulate your conquest? Pfft....it's not even worth it in my opinion.

Rating: 3.5 Squidges out of 5

N64 - Pokémon Snap

Haiku-Review:

these pocket monsters:
just simple camera fodder
to further research

Additional Comments:

For me, Pokémon games fall into a strange little category of naive embarrassment and stupidity that mysteriously exudes hours upon hours of fun, sort of like the Animal Crossing series, or dare I even say it, the Harvest Moon series. Basically, games reeking of the term "guilty pleasure" in which I have absolutely no desire to feign interest to others, yet because of their highly addictive gameplay, I just cannot put them down. Of course, Pokémon Snap is a bit of an anomaly among the Pokémon franchise, and really, among video games in general, but it still shares that same addictive quality that the far more popular RPG games possess. I only wish I could explain what it is that causes that, because seriously, the game is just plain idiotic. Essentially, you travel along a rail in differing environments taking snapshots of various Pokémon; all the while focusing on unique poses to boost your point tally. The pictures are then used to build your Pokédex, unlike the typical "capture" method used in the RPG series.

Ok, so let's see if I can sort out this madness and possibly explain what the "nicotine" of Pokémon Snap includes. For starters, I've got to point fingers at the Pokédex itself - the notion that you have to continually collect and build a database. That's enough to obsess over; besides look how popular the collection mechanic is in other games, especially other N64 games such as the Banjo-Kazooie series or Donkey Kong 64. But then again, although a fairly comparative principle is at work, it's not quite the same. There's got to be something else. And I think that something else is the Japanese allure - the attraction to anything that carries the adjectives of "cute" and "tiny." Now, I don't know if there's a general affinity among the younger generations towards "cute" and "tiny" things or if the Japanese are just reaping the fortunes of what appears to be a flood of "weeaboo" tendencies among the younger generations within the past couple of decades. Hell, if it makes money, why not? But seriously, who can't resist those adorable little creatures, be it a Charmander or Poliwag, or even a Vulpix, Porygon or Dratini. However, I'm shocked they didn't try to cram the entire list of First Generation Pokémon into the game. Although I can understand excluding certain varieties because of required evolutionary catalysts, it just seemed strange that some of the basics were left out, including Nidoran (both genders), Spearow, Caterpie or at the very least, Rattata.

Now, as I said, on the surface the game is pretty damn stupid, but once you start thinking about it, it is a pretty creative game. The idea of taking photographs, having them judged and awarded points based on your overall photography skills is interesting to say the least. Honestly, I can't say that I've ever seen a game like it before, but then again, maybe there's a reason why that's the case. It's boring. Other than Dark Cloud 2's innovative approach to creating new machinery through the usage of photography, it's not a game mechanic that's going to instill an overjoyed euphoria among gamers, especially if the entire game revolves around said mechanic.

Nevertheless, there is one thing about this game that just had me floored. This has got to be the only Nintendo 64 game that I can readily think of offhand that doesn't make the N64 controller feel like an awkward first-date kiss gone horribly awry. Sure, it can be argued that this is only because there's a minimal number of buttons used, but seriously, every other Nintendo 64 game I've ever played makes me want to hurl that piece of garbage against a brick wall, and in my eyes, that's something that weighs in heavily in the game's favor. Seriously, any game on this system that doesn't tie your fingers in a knot trying to to use the controller is a definitive win.

There's one other aspect, common among all Pokémon games, that grabs my attention as well - the music. Much like the games themselves, I always shrug off the music upon my initial encounter; typically regarding them as nothing more than sophomoric attempts at video game music. But eventually, just like the games, I realize how catchy and well done they really are. And just like the RPG's, Pokémon Snap is no exception, housing quite a few of these short but sweet tunes, such as the Cave Theme or Valley Theme.

Another thing that intrigues me relates to some of the technical aspects. Granted, I'm not tech-savvy by any means, so anything I say might as well be coming out of my ass. Anyways, from what I've experienced, it seems this game is more than prepared to vomit its fair share of errors all over the currently available N64 emulators due to some of the creative programming it utilized, albeit the most recent version of 1964 claims that it is playable - huh, wasn't the case for me, but then again, I faced a myriad of other hurdles with the emulator itself, so who knows? Anyways, from what I've read on a few different emulation forums, it seems that the game uses some innovative graphical tricks which are to blame for all of this unplayable tomfoolery. But whatever, that's just some technical mumbo-jumbo which affects neither gameplay nor my thoughts thereof. So...I guess I'm lucky I actually own the cartridge - though I'm not so sure I'd call that lucky. Hmm....

Nano-Rant:

I always find it funny when game-makers create a device that only has functionality during a game's working era. For those who don't know, Pokémon Snap had a feature where you could save your four best pictures to an album. Then, if you brought your cartridge to a Snap Station, which were printers installed in Blockbusters, you could print a set of stickers. Although I suppose it was cool little gimmick for kids at the time, seriously, what a fucking waste of money. Hot dog! I can print some stickers of shitty N64 graphics! Ugh....

Rating: 2.5 Pinsir Shadows out of 5

SMS - Alex Kidd in Miracle World

Haiku Review:

Radaxian Hero -
contest Janken's great players
and chop off their heads?

Additional Comments:

Before I talk about Miracle World, I suppose I should emphasize an initial guideline I personally hoped to abide by when I first started Beat All Games. Although I planned on picking games rather haphazardly - to a degree - I still planned on playing through individual series in sequential order. And, albeit, I've managed to do so for the most part, it can also be argued that I haven't. Obviously, with the Alex Kidd series I totally botched it since I started with the fourth title in the series. As far as other games - let's take the Mario series for example - this can be greatly argued, especially since I've already played SMRPG but have only played SMB as a predecessor - which I did after the fact - without even having played Mario Bros. or even Donkey Kong for that matter if you really want to get technical. Well, I'm looking at it from a series standpoint, not a franchise standpoint. SMB and SMRPG are not even remotely related when it comes down to the nitty-gritty - one's a side-scrolling platformer and one's an overhead RPG. To add, I've been itching to play Super Mario 64, but once again it can be questioned where it fits into the series. In my opinion, it doesn't, instead being the first game in a new series of Mario games: the first person platformers. But really, the main reason I haven't brought myself to play the game is because I really hate that game, but that's besides the point. Anyways, I've gotten way off topic and I probably should have made a separate post regarding my above thoughts. Oh well....

The point is, I went from a 16-bit Alex Kidd game to an 8-bit. Because of this, I developed a false sense of displeasure from this game, frustrated over the lack of abilities that I was originally presented with when I was first introduced to this series. Having played these two titles in the order that I have, Miracle World comes across as the unfortunate byproduct of shoving a game that was developed on a superior system into a crippling set of parameters of an inferior system - think Arcade to NES ports or NES to GameBoy ports, and  you get the picture. It's not to say they're bad, but it can be tough to enjoy such titles for what they are. Of course, this isn't the reality of Miracle World, so it sucks that that's how it came across. If I had played the games in their correct sequential order, I probably would have viewed Miracle World as a clever little platformer utilizing some very interesting features on which Enchanted Castle was later built, re-visualizing these elements into their eventual 16-bit glory. And I probably would have had a lot more respect for Enchanted Castle as well when I first played it. But so it goes.

But all of that is nothing more than an occluded illusion of a bad game. Honestly, Miracle World is not a bad game. It really is quite innovative for its time especially with the use of the Sukopako Motorcycle and Peticopter. It amazed me that nearly everything present in Enchanted Castle was present here. However, there is one important element that Miracle World did right that for some unknown reason Enchanted Castle chose to ignore: cutscene text explaining what was going on. Now, I can be rather wishy-washy when it comes to storyline in platformers, but there are times when it serves its purpose and times when it's completely unnecessary, but typically, a single window of text between stages or through the use of an NPC that is basic and straight to the point works and is all you need. Miracle World did not go overboard with text, so the game never felt bogged down (although the text windows themselves run awfully slow), yet there was just enough to explain what the game was on about. The Janken battle text however, let's just say that after the first battle, it was needless.

And on the topic of Janken - ugh! But you know what? Now that I've played this game, the whole paper-rock-scissors thing finally makes sense. Without having prior game knowledge, it felt cheap and tacked on in Enchanted Castle. I mean, it still feels senseless and arbitrary, but at least I understand how this came to replace the boss battles - with bosses like Paper Head, Stone Head, Scissors Head and Janken himself, what do you expect?

I do have two major complaints though: the controls and the physics. First off, I can't stand games that reverse the jump and attack buttons. Granted, the game came out in '86, so the idea of standardized controls is pretty much moot, it's still subject to my ire. I fell victim to death far too often because of the controls. But then again, the lousy control configuration wasn't the only thing that brought on easily avoidable deaths. The physics are just as much to blame. Oh my god, and I thought after going back and replaying Super Mario Bros. after all these years that that game had some pretty shitty physics. The jump in this game is just all over the place. It feels like once I commit to a jump, the best I can do is close my eyes and hope for the best. With the combination of an atrocious jump and a backass controller setup, I found myself replaying the first stage an unprecedented amount of times - watching that stupid monkey-boy's spirit float off into the sky far too often. Now, I'm not the greatest of gamers by far, but I'm not some piss-ant novice either, but I felt that the amount of time I had to put into the first stage alone was completely unwarranted.

And I'm not complaining about loose jumping, I'm complaining about uncontrollable jumping. It's hard to accurately judge just how far Alex will jump. Most platformers, it's fairly easy to ascertain how much distance a jump will grant you. But with Miracle World, I was still struggling with managing jump distances by the last stage. But, you know, maybe it's just me. Perhaps if I sunk more time into this game as opposed to trying to crank out a victory run, I'd learn to fully grasp Alex's moveset, but frankly, with what I've experienced - no thanks.

Physics and controller setup aside, it's still an interestingly creative little platformer. Not the best by today's standards, but for its time, definitely worth noting and ranks up there with the best of its day. And finally, what's Miracle World without the fantastic Underwater theme? That's some pure win right there....

Nano-Win ??:

From what I've read, I'm under the impression that Sega swapped the Jump and Attack buttons at some point later on, possibly when they installed the game into the Master System itself for Rev. 2? Not sure. Anyways, I'm glad they saw the folly of their ways as well (just sucks that I played it with the original configuration).

Rating: 3 Suisui Boats out of 5