GEN - Comix Zone

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rating: 3.5 100 pound mozzarella donations out of 5

GC - Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Rant:

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

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

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

Nano-Win:

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

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

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

Rating: 4.5 crickets out of 5*

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

BTTF2's a Lie!

Seriously! Where's our hoverboards? And not those segway wannabes that someone's trying to pawn off as the next new toy. The mere fact that you're riding around on wheels goes against the very definition of hover! Who's the fucking idiot that took the name for something that's clearly amazing and applied it to something that's clearly stupid and duped the shopping masses into buying this hazardous piece of crap!? Your idea's bad and you should feel bad.

And the way I see it, there's really anything else 2015 to talk about? Oh wait! Games! But, of course. How obvious. Not many games, but enough. Eighteen to be precise. Eh, it's enough to scrap together a top ten for good measure.

It feels like it's been a long year since it seems like eons since I checked off a few of the games on this list. Meanwhile, some of the more recent games failed to make an impression, or rather, made the wrong impression. There's been a good variety of games beaten this year including a personal heavy hitter, and likely my wildest trip into childhood nostalgia. Very few games, if any, will ever invoke the kind of nostalgia that Zork I did. The only games that may have the faintest glimmer of hope: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, Smurf in Gargamel Castle, and the almighty River Raid. Except, I played a brief few minutes of Smurf in Gargamel Castle several years ago as well as running through a couple segments on River Raid so the excitement level will never compare to that of Zork I's when I realized it truly was the same game from so long ago. Sadly, for as much as it was a keynote experience this past year, it narrowly missed this year's list. Oh! Spoiler, for those keeping track.

How can that be, you may ask. But alas, as always, my list is an expression of many factors; most importantly, what game would I genuinely return to for some additional game time? For as much as Zork I amazed me as a general experience, the likelihood of powering it up again is slim to none. Perhaps in another 25 years.

What games did make the list then? Well, let's find out.

10. Tengami
-Ok, maybe the game has little to no replayability, it was far too easy, and ended prematurely, but the overall presentation and experience left me wanting more. Not just more in the game, but more Tengami in general. If a sequel ever came out, I'd be all over it.

9. Ecco the Dolphin
-If there was ever a game that epitomized a love/hate relationshp, it would surely be Ecco the Dolphin. There's so many reasons to throw my arms in disgust, but at the same time, so many reasons to marvel in the aquatic antics of that spry little dolphin.

8. 12 Labours of Hercules
-Proof that casual games can be a blast. I expected a meager amount of enjoyment, but instead I got a game I just couldn't put down until I managed Gold across the board.

7. Forza Horizon 2 Presents Fast & Furious
-There's no reason for this game to exist as a standalone, however, considering I don't own Forza Horizon 2, I did thoroughly enjoy the arcade-like antics that only the Horizon series can deliver for the few brief hours it took me to finish this.

6. Eighth Annual Vanilla Level Design Contest
-I've gradually lost interest in ROM hacks, namely SMW hacks over the years, however, compilation hacks have always managed to pique my interest as a wide variety of approach and experimentation blossoms within. These VLDCs certainly do not disappoint.

5. Me & My Katamari
-It may have lost some of its luster compared to the original, or even the sequel, but at the same time, it's a Katamari game. As long as the basic principle hasn't changed, I know I'm going to have a blast playing through them.

4. Abobo's Big Adventure
-And here I always thought I Wanna Be The Guy was a fantastic mashup. Abobo's Big Adventure clearly defines what a video game mash up should be. Everything else likened to the genre has mighty big shoes to fill - Abobo's shoes.

3. Mega Man 3
-Long been my favorite among the original NES Mega Man games, and for that matter, all Mega Man games, the Doc Robot stages have always been the standout feature. Many games have tried stage remixes over the years, but I've always believed this is the only game to get it right.

2. Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker
-I'm not sure what I expected from this game, although it looked like a fun and interesting puzzle-like game. Captain Toad absolutely blew me away and I think it's one of the better games Nintendo has come out with in a loooong time (discounting obvious MK and SSB material).

1. Fallout 3
-For me, Fallout 3 is in the running for greatest game ever, which is something because over time I've lost interest in open world games and have generally never enjoyed FPS titles of any kind. Even with its bevy of bugs, crashes and general programming incompetence, everything in this game just managed to click perfectly. And I'm certain there's still an enormous amount of secrets I've managed to overlook throughout the Capital Wasteland.

FDS - Super Mario Bros. 2

Haiku-Review:

we'll change bricks to stone
and give most everything eyes-
voilà! a new game!

Additional Comments:

Traditions, traditions. Honestly, I didn't think I'd manage another Mario Christmas. But here we are!

My original intention was to run through Super Mario 64 this year, but due to various reasons, that never materialized. Reason number one being I have zero interest in playing that game. It just feels so alien whenever I play it. Mario game? What's a Mario game?

I thought of a couple other possible kooky titles to hit up, but in the end, I wanted to tackle a game that falls directly in the line of sight of a Mario platformer. Ooh! Wait! What about that one game that was an actual sequel according to Japanese Mario lore but was nothing but a mythical Nessie to the rest of the world? After all, I somehow skipped over it in order to play Yume Koujou: Doki Doki Panic...er, Super Mario Bros. 2. But...this is Super Mario Bros. 2. No. Wait...what? Could be worse. Could be Final Fantasy III...I mean VI...I mean... Wait. If it's VI, then where are the three unaccounted Final Fantasy games? Ah, Japan, you sneaky little devil you, keeping everything to yourself.

I played Super Mario Bros. 2 years ago as part of Super Mario All-Stars where it was cheekily dubbed, The Lost Levels. Nice save there, Nintendo. I remember very little of the experience except for the newly implemented wind feature being doubled up with some disgustingly stupid jumps and the overall increased difficulty compared to the first SMB. I think I quickly put that game down and returned to SMB3 - my personal favorite. The Lost Levels felt like a sour pang. It was so cool to see this "lost," to the Western world at least, Mario game, but at the same time, I was hugely disappointed. Not just because of the difficulty or the lack of noticeable improvement over the first game, but something just felt off. It felt lazy; unnecessary. Nothing grabbed my attention other than the mystique behind the game's existence itself. Then again, maybe it was just those god forsaken wind jumps.

This is the first time I've returned to this game since that experience. I've always wanted to return to give the game a proper chance, but I always knew in the back of my mind that the game would feel like nothing more than cutting room scraps. After completing it, my opinion on the matter barely deviates from my original thoughts. It feels like a lazily slapped together game shoveled out with the intent to make a few extra yen. In today's terms, it feels equivalent to some thoughtless DLC created to make a quick buck because everyone loves the base game so much, they'll buy any old horse shit that we decide to pack on. I know this is likely a controversial viewpoint on the matter and people likely think I'm just butthurt over the difficulty, but I'm not. I simply believe I played through a poorly designed game.

You don't have to venture far on the internet, or amongst gamers in general, to know that this game has acquired a reputation for being notoriously difficult compared to the first. But what makes it difficult? In the first game, the difficulty was progressive on a fairly linear scale. New enemies were introduced as well as more complex structural patterns and jumps in fairly forgiving ways. The sequel, however, appears to take the position that players of SMB2 will be players who have already conquered SMB, therefore there's no need to potty train them all over again. They're aware of everything we're going to throw at them so let's pick it up from right where we left off. This is a ridiculously stupid model. Granted, we're talking about the early days of platforming and few if any sequels existed. So it was all very much up in the air as far as how games were designed moving forward. Why reinvent the wheel all over again when we can just pick up where we left off?

The argument can be made that the game is simply introducing what sort of challenge to expect. Instead of starting at the ground floor, this game starts you on the tenth floor and gives you a royal kick in the arse saying, "Have at it (you foolish idiot)," as you go hurtling through challenges never before imagined over the course of the first few floors. Only, as the game progresses, the difficulty curve is all over the place, like a highly turbulent day on Wall Street. This alone pisses me off in regards to starting the game at such an extreme level compared to the original game. There's no sense of learning. Instead, there's often a sense of relaxation or stagnation, or simply, we ran out of ideas so enjoy this long stretch of flat land with very few enemies.

But what makes the game difficult is the poor design. Looking back on Super Mario Bros., the levels appear to be well made, as though there was purpose to every brick, every pit, every goomba etc. Here, it seems like the designers blindly slapped the levels together in the dark. So much of the game feels like a bad YouTube hack. No other official Mario release, at least that I can think of, carries such a comparison. It feels like there's no rhyme or reason to anything here. Instead, it's like someone had a handful of bricks, question blocks, platforms, enemies, etc. and nonchalantly splattered them across a giant canvas. Voilà, level 3-1, or 4-2, or 7-4, or what sort of level did we need? Underground? Ah yes. Just add a bunch of random pipes. That'll do. What? The piranha plant is dipping into the ground? Who cares?

A result of the slapdash design is incredibly dickish jumps. This mostly revolves around wind or the more infuriating, green springboard. More than anything else in the game, I abhor the green springboard sections. Unless I'm just flat out misunderstanding moon launch physics, Mario's return to earth is total guesswork. I died far too many times because I misjudged where Mario was going to drop from the top of the screen. Every time I expected him to be relatively center, he'd somehow drop on the far left. How is that happening? In an attempt to correct, I'd overcompensate and Mario would suddenly drop center screen. Far too many Marios lost their lives to these blasted devices. And it's such a shit way to die because I felt like I had no control over the situation. If I die because I fall in a pit while attempting a particularly tricky jump or run straight into a koopa because I mistimed something, I can totally accept that because the game got the better of me and I made a mistake - sometimes a stupid mistake. But to die over what's essentially a blind jump is pure bullshit. Frankly, it amazes me that a game that has zero vertical scrolling somehow managed to introduce blind jumps. That's brilliant minds at work right there.

Even the old staples of annoyance like fortress mazes make an unwelcome return. That was one aspect of the original I never liked and this game somehow made the concept just that much more frustrating. The first game at least had mazes that felt intuitive, but here, there were a couple maze that kept throwing me for a loop because there were a couple blocks I never would have guessed were part of the design. I think one of them I solved by sheer accident. Another maze, I'm not even sure what the intended method is, but if it's how I eventually solved it... *Facepalm* There's nothing more to be said. More incredulously, backwards warps were added. If the game couldn't troll you enough - backwards warps. Wow!

It's not all bad, however. There are some improvements over the first game that I enjoyed. As much as I hated the wind sections, I found the wind to be a very unexpected, and rather genius addition. Eventually, through the NSMB series, we came to see the wind gimmick being used with proper intelligence and we have SMB2 to thank for that. Additional types of moving platforms were a highly appreciated improvement. We even find the precursor to the platforms that move infinitely to the right in later games like SMB3. So yes, along with poison mushrooms (though I hesitate to call that a worthwhile improvement - it actually adds very little to the game in my opinion) or elongated fire bars, there's is a handful of new elements to help freshen up the gameplay so it's not a completely stale rehash of the first game. Unfortunately, most of the welcomed improvements are far outshined by everything that's wrong with this game.

I can't convince myself to recommend this game under any circumstances. I suppose if you like shitty SMB hacks, sure why not? But if you want to play a quality product, this is not it. Even if you simply like a good challenge, I can't recommend this game in good conscience. To me, it's a poorly made mockery of everything Super Mario Bros., and that's rather depressing because it's such a mythical game in the early days of the Super Mario franchise. People often say the game was never brought to the Western world because Westerners can't appreciate a good challenge like the Japanese gamers can. I've never understood that as we had a number of stupidly difficult game here in the Western world. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, The Adventures of Bayou Billy actually saw an increase in difficulty for its Western release in comparison to its Japanese counterpart, Mad City. In my opinion, the whole notion of Westerners hate a good challenge is nothing but a crock of shit. Yes, remarks have been made that NoA didn't wish to bring the game to the Western world precisely for the above reasons, but I call bullshit on that. I wholeheartedly believe this game never saw a Western release because its crap. I'm glad we got a hastily converted game about a family in a strange Arabian setting as opposed to this poor excuse at level design. What came to be "our" Super Mario Bros. 2 is a vastly superior game in the platforming and design departments. I wouldn't say it's a superior Mario game as I still don't find it Mario-esque at all and if there's anything the Japanese version is, it's undeniably a Mario game. But as far as everything else is concerned, the Yume Koujou: Doki Doki Panic ripoff that we got is a game of far greater caliber.

Nano-Rant:

I actually have two things to rant about - one short one long.

First, my true nano-rant: floating bloopers. This is yet another reason why I can only compare this game to juvenile YouTube hacks. It just screams unprofessional.

And now for my more serious complaint: Worlds A-D. I have nothing against Worlds A-D themselves, and rather enjoyed them a bit more compared to the rest of the game, except for the sections that were blatant copypastas of previous levels. My issue is with the hoops you need to jump through just to access them. Beat the game eight times? What a ridiculously arbitrary number and what an unbelievable way to pad out gameplay in hopes of replayability. World 9, on the other hand, has a totally sensible method of unlocking: beat the game without warps. That's completely fair. But beat the game eight times? What kind of third rate award tactics is this?

I hated the game on my first playthrough, so there's certainly no way I'm playing another seven times. Even if I loved the game, I'd likely play it two maybe three times through completion in a relatively reasonable time period (few months to a year?) at least to experience the full game with both Mario and Luigi. Additional playthroughs would be sporadic at best over the span of years because it still doesn't have the same exact type of replayability as say Mega Man 2 or Super Mario Bros. 3 where you can impose a number of challenges upon yourself to make things more interesting. Needless to say, there's no fucking way I'm ever going to play this game through to the end eight times, even if I just ran the minimalist route. A sensible solution would be to beat the game twice, once with Mario, once with Luigi. I could totally accept that since there are some slight differences in physics between the two brothers so the experience would be ever so slightly different across each playthrough. And then, ta-da! Bonus world!

As is, I'll use Game Genie, thank you very much.

Rating: 1.5 peace pavers out of 5

GEN - Sonic the Hedgehog Spinball

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Rant:

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

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

Nano-Win:

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

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

ARC - Soldier Girl Amazon

Haiku-Review:

in the face of war:
blonde on a motorcycle
seeks male idiots

Additional Comments:

I've been so caught up in a few specific games for what seems like months with no foreseen end in sight - games like Fallout: New Vegas, Mad Max, and the surprisingly fun yet not so surprisingly addictive, Puzzle Quest: Challenge of the Warlords, along with several other noteworthy titles that I'll cheekily fail to mention at this time. However, with the year coming to a close, I felt like tackling something different, something lacking complexity, and hopefully, something quick. Arcade games usually fit the bill as their purpose has always been to traverse a world filled with incredible challenge from point A to point B on a perfectly linear path. Beyond that, the game heralds little to no depth. After all, who wants to feed a machine twenty bucks in quarters just to read an hour and a half worth of eye-rolling context? Certainly not I. Though I must be grateful that those quarters are only theoretical thanks to emulation. Still, no need for time wasting plot lines mucking up an exquisite action shooter. A blonde, a bike, and a mission to.... A mission to what? Maybe just a smidge of story? No? Ok....

Soldier Girl Amazon is a typical top down shooter in the sense that you're shooting the crap out of some fantastic other-worldly lifeforms while they retaliate with their own barrage of machine gun candor. Yet, the game doesn't exactly feel like a typical shooter. It's more akin to the slightly misguided genre rebels, Jackal or The Lost Castle in Darkmist. Maybe it's because instead of the usual aerial machinery, you play as a bodacious babe out to kick some ass, all the while struttin' her stuff - at least until you hijack a futuristic motorcycle, that is until you lose it exactly three tenths of a second later. Perhaps, but at least she has a gun, so the feel of an aerial shooter isn't far removed. Or perhaps it's that awkward scrolling that I've seen before.

Much like Jackal, Soldier Girl Amazon places scrolling within the player's hands making use of a unidirectional manual scroll. When it comes to top down shooters, or any shooter for that matter, I've never been a fan of manual scroll. Unlike any other genre where auto-scrolling typically introduces a faux brand of difficulty, I find this to be the case for manual scrolling in shooters. Maybe it's the unnatural flow to the levels since you usually have to remain in constant motion. Unforeseen pitfalls always seem to prevail during manual scroll, especially when large obstructions may come into play. One such incident nearly occurred here where I thought I backed myself into an inescapable corner. True, the same could happen with autoscroll, but at least you'll be crushed to death by the invisible barrier within a few short seconds as opposed to spending an eternity in a tiny hollow.

Scrolling, however, may be of personal taste and isn't the true detriment of the game. Controls and difficulty easily win those honors. The controls are solid for what they are; unfortunately, they're far too clumsy for this particular title. Maybe if the difficulty wasn't turned up to eleven, I could overlook the lack of rapid fire or the use of a single stick handling all of the aiming routines. Except the severe difficulty only makes the frustration with the controls all the more noticeable.

How developers choose to ignore a rapid fire button in these kind of games is beyond me. Sure, I love hammering my thumb on the fire button incessantly for an hour or two without break. Ok, if I was on an actual cabinet, I'd be slamming my palm or tapping my finger on the fire button - not as aggravating a chore as thumb Olympics. Still. But what's more infuriating is the aiming physics. You shoot in the direction you face. In theory, it makes sense, and in a number of shooters, it works perfectly. However, when every enemy has the ability to home in on you and enemy fire appears to travel at a rate equal or greater than your walking speed, it needlessly complicates play technique. If anything, it forces you to go on the defensive more often than necessary because you consistently find yourself boxed in, preventing you from aiming at your enemy lest you walk headlong into their wrath. It's bullshit and nowhere was this more of an issue than the first boss, or rather after defeating the first boss and having to then kill off four of the most annoying enemies I think I've ever come across in any video game. First off, let's think about what I just said. The largest problem area is with the very first boss in the game. That's not a good sign for things to come. Level 1 - fuck it, we're done. Secondly, why do these little adjunct shitheads even exist? I killed the boss and rescued the first of many mysterious men (actually, I didn't, but more on that later). And why are they harder to kill than the boss itself? Can I only harm them by firing into their open mouth? I don't get how these little yellow fuckers function. Let's just move on to the next level already! Oh, it's just more of the same uninspired background and freak-show inhabitants as it is ten levels down the line.

Thing is, those now affectionately labelled "little yellow fuckers" are the sole reason why I hate the way the controls work in this game. After a short time of fumbling around trying to figure out how to kill them, they suddenly began to frenzy, rattling off quick-fire spurts of deadly energy so fast that I had no time to reciprocate my due hatred. All I could do was run circles around them; the slightest hesitation instantly killing me. How the hell am I supposed to aim any sort of return volley when I can't even pause for a nanosecond? If I had the ability to aim with a second stick, the game would actually be playable, but as is...forget it. Oh, I have a few bombs - maybe, if I didn't waste them yet - but they're next to useless.

Somehow, I bullied my way to the boss of the second level where I finally declared the game worthless trash given the insane difficulty. Thing is, there are games out there with insane difficulty that are genuinely fun to play. Any of the Touhous, or hell, most bullet hells in general come to mind. Yes, they're frustrating, but they're playable and have a certain Zen quality to them as you try to carefully work your way through a myriad of beautiful fractal patterns of death. Soldier Girl Amazon, on the other hand, is just amateurish design building proposed challenge with slapdash varieties of mutants with no real ounce of thought to placement. In fact, to create increasingly difficult levels, the game just creates more varied mobs with overall increased numbers. Why not? A group of gigantic bees wasn't enough to aggravate me; let's add some floral mouths, scurrying androids, and most surprising of the bunch, some human soldiers to the mix. The bullets will fly! And to top it all off, make sure the player suffers one-hit kills and we'll send him packing when he dies.

Honestly, it doesn't matter. If you can survive one level, you've essentially survived the game. In many respects, Soldier Girl Amazon reminds me of Exed Exes - in overall style at least. Difficulty, not so much as Exed Exes essentially had an infinite lives mechanic built in. But most everything else, it reeked of the same level of ineptitude. There's really only one level and you just repeat it over and over and over again. There'll be some additional enemies to heighten the action and a couple of new bosses, but there's really no point in venturing forth. There appears to be a rescue scenario at work, except it seems to be perpetual. Soldier Girl Amazon's work is never done, and as such, the game appears to be endless. Granted, an 80s arcade game, endless is appropriate. There's no reason to whinge over that, however, an endless game that's comprised of the same goddamn level over and over...what's the point? High Score? Yea, that is the point of most arcade games, so consider me eggfaced. Except, Soldier Girl Amazon doesn't seem like the game that would rely on such a petty design, and that's what bothers me about it. There could be additional backgrounds or enemies. Why manufacture a couple extra bosses only to recycle everything else? It makes no sense. It's nothing more than a grand illusion to trick idiot kids out of their middling funds injecting the idea that the game is filled with a vast selection of levels.

Now, to be perfectly honest, I can't attest to Soldier Girl Amazon being truly endless, but I'm 99.9% sure it is. After failing miserably at the boss on the second level, I succumbed to extreme measures to further investigate this game. Some people may find cheats immoral in the face of gaming, and most would likely express the use of cheating strips one of the right to call themselves a proper gamer. I could care less. Perhaps I should feel some guilt, but every once in a while a game comes along that's squarely giving you the finger right to your face. Soldier Girl Amazon is one such game and I don't feel a shred of guilt performing any sort of cheats. Frankly, the game doesn't deserve the time of day to play it legit. Thanks to cheats, I suffered through 20-something levels of repetitive tedium and rescued another 20-something jackoffs from the forces of who-the-fuck-cares. While I experienced ever increasing mobs throughout the levels, nothing else ever changed. I figure a simple equation was put in place to create the increasingly difficult mobs. Otherwise, why put in the effort to make several dozen levels only to change so little, if anything? Eventually, after 20-something levels, the game crashed on me mid-level. My first suspicion was something overflowed and began to eat into some additional data - the score perhaps? The way the crash occurred, it sounded reasonable except the Dec->Hex didn't exactly play ball with my hypothesis. Whatever. I consider it a fitting end to a shitty game.

Nano-Rant:

Is there even a point to having a nano-rant? Pretty much this entire post has been nothing but one giant rant. So what shitty thing can possibly top all the other bullshit? You can completely fail what I can only assume is your mission objective. Granted, it doesn't affect the game in any physical sense, but the sheer fact that it can happen and how it happens is just the icing on the cake.

When the game initially starts, nine futuristic soldiers run off into the distance to fight the good fight. Your mission, so I assume, is to rescue all these asshats as they somehow got themselves imprisoned immediately - quite possibly as soon as they negotiated the upper thresholds of the TV screen. Once you defeat a boss, a single captive is released. However, you have roughly two seconds to move Soldier Girl Amazon on top of the rescued prisoner before he decides to run off into the wilderness. Either he's an ungrateful fuck or duty calls. If this happens, you fail to rescue him. At first, I figured once the captive is shown on screen, everything's right in the world. Intuitive game mechanics for the win - yea. This isn't that big of a deal on the latter bosses, but on the first boss, thanks to those little yellow fuckers, you can't exactly focus on collecting the prisoner.

In the grand scheme of things, none of this matters since there's no ending and no real objective. They're just score fodder - 5000 points a pop. So honestly, there's no point in getting my panties in a wad over a device that is only there to further the overarching premise of a high score mechanic. I'll give it that, but it's little things like that that act as a reminder that Soldier Girl Amazon tried its best to be an actual game with actual substance but rather stick it's big ugly toe in the ocean instead of taking a plunge while giving the impression of the latter.

It's a pointless game. I can't even enjoy it for the simplicity of high score functionality. If that's what I'm looking for, I'll turn to Pac-Man or Fast Food or other such games that pander to the high score arcade phenomena. Soldier Girl Amazon, on the other hand, is nothing but a misleading Two Face.

It's been a while since I've had a game piss me off to such a degree. I suppose it was time for one such nightmare to come along. So much for hoping something from my arcade library would be a quick, enjoyable diversion from my working stock.

Rating: 0.5 wasted powerups out of 5*

*Yet another comparison to Exed Exes - powerups that you pretty much lose immediately because the game exists in a one-hit universe against the player's favor. Yet treasure boxes take a half dozen bullets to break apart. What the fuck is that about!?

SNES - HyperZone

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nano-Rant:

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

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

Rating: 2 lazily named enemies out of 5*

*Or are they just lazily drawn?

Flash - Anika's Odyssey: Land of the Taniwha

Haiku-Review:

girl's wild journey
to fetch a pail of water
(also, Mr. Bun!)

Additional Comments:

Finding a good Flash game can prove to be a difficult task. Sure, you can be guided along by sticking to sites like Newgrounds or Kongregate and adhering to their best of the best as promoted by the general user base. Except, like most of my video gaming ventures, I want to find an interesting title because I find it interesting; not because it's top rated. There's times when I'm specifically looking for a top rated game, and this isn't just for Flash games, but games in general, as I'm intrigued to see what the latest craze is. That's how I originally came across stuff like VVVVVV, the Touhou series, and even Abobo's Big Adventure. But most of the time, I want to see what sort of rarefied gems I can find lost in the forgotten trough of gaming. And unlike professional games, there is a metric ton of Flash games hidden away in the bowels of mediocrity. The problem? About 99% of them are lost in the digital ether with good cause.

On my latest quest to dig up a quirky little specimen from the forgotten unknown, I came across Anika's Odyssey. Since it was the first game out of a dozen or so randomized picks that looked and sounded mildly interesting, I decided to try it out. Plus it was point and click, a genre that I feel works in the Flash realm just as easily as any other medium, or at least should in theory. Unfortunately, I find myself at a loss of words. Anika's Odyssey is one of those games that just sort of happened. It wasn't exactly a waste of my time, yet it failed to enrich my continual gaming repertoire with good reason. It left me straight-faced; neither dejected nor elated. An odd balance of good and bad manages to let the game rest in a perpetual limbo of inquest - attempting to uncover the root of gaming deliberation on behalf of a young girl's journey after her stuffed toy. Is it really a game when the choices made by the end user have literally zero impact on the overall outcome?

The same argument can be made for the entire visual novel genre, except highly regarded visual novels are ripe with choice allowing the player to experience a wealth of tangential story lines. Same can be said for any point and click or hidden object game, except most of these games promote exploration and experimentation. Outside of the vine "puzzle," Anika's Odyssey fails in that department. In many respects, Anika's Odyssey reminds me of elements of Tengami - elementary, almost primitive game design where the player is lead by a leash in an extremely focused direction. I remember how heavily I harped on Myst's lack of gameplay, but looking back, I find myself sorely mistaken. If anything, Myst should be an entry level model for the point and click genre. Anything less feels futile and plays...well, barely plays at all.

The problem with Anika's Odyssey is how straightforward the game plays. As the screen moves, you're really only offered a single clickable element at any one time and that element is glaringly obvious. Though, I'll admit, the steam machine tripped me up for a couple minutes only because breaking a machine to make it work defies logic. Didn't I break the cloud machine in Paper Mario to purposefully make it malfunction so the sun can shine again? Why would I use the very same technique to make a machine sputter back to life? Maybe I'm misunderstanding the preeminence of cogs and wheels. Still, despite this hiccup, the answer wasn't that hidden when you realize the entirety of your surroundings more or less direct you to the machine for the answer. That is, unless after scratching what I assume may be the embodiment of Māui (or so I'd like to believe, but may actually be a more amicable representation of a Mohoao, what I imagine to be the Woses of Maori mythology) enough times, he might just carry you up the mountain. Alas, that is not the case. He's just appreciative of a comforting back rub.

It's unfortunate the game suffers from such a lack of genuine gameplay because the scenery is fucking gorgeous. But looking at the outlandish landscape dreamt up from the fantastic mythology of New Zealand, I can't help but feel the aesthetics may be one of the leading factors to the game's weak play. It becomes a question if too much effort was put into creating a living, breathing piece of artwork as opposed to a magnificent background that is both beautiful and functional - at least far more functional than it is. As is, the amount of clickable objects seems to be subject to the artwork in a way that game design feels more like an afterthought, i.e. make the game work around the architecture. It reminds me of how I perceived much of Ocarina of Time's basic composition compared to other Zelda games in that the puzzle elements had to be shoehorned into an already developed landscape. Any hope of flummoxing the player is vastly reduced since slapdash puzzles typically fail to uphold serious effort on the player's part.

Maybe I'm just overthinking Anika's Odyssey. Perhaps the game is meant to be nothing more than an entry level attempt at the point and click genre, but even then I feel robbed of what I believe could have been a marvelous game. It's possible the game's length may be partly to blame, but I don't think that's the case. Going in, I expected a shortened experience only because it was a Flash game, and I safely made a prediction based on Hood Episode 1's length. Perhaps it's the rather barren story, except I find the story works for the product. It can be considered a little goofy or outright preposterous at points - wings? Really? But it fits the overall style; sort of has that innocent Aesop quality to it. Like the Tortoise and the Hare, here we have Anika and the Falcon - though I'm sure it's meant to be a representation of one of the mighty tapu who's come to steal Anika's Mr. Bun.

The sound, the looks, the story - everything else falls into place like a perfect little puzzle. Unfortunately, the most important element: gameplay, failed to round out the equation and I find it a tragedy as I think Anika's Odyssey could have been a fantastic, if quaint little point and click game. It managed to conjure some incredible wonder but sadly turned the journey through a scant slice of Aotearoa into an act of embarrassing stumbles ending with an elaborate score of egg on the face. Sorry, Anika. Next time, just leave Mr. Bun inside when you're sent to fetch a pail of water.

Rating: 2 stone-rolling goats out of 5

PC - 12 Labours of Hercules

Haiku-Review:

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

Additional Comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rating: 3.5 lazy, pederastic heroes out of 5