"Are you a hero?"
"I'm trying to be a hero."
There are once-beloved games from my youth I now dismiss. Radical Rex, Virtual Bart, The Ren & Stimpy Show presents: Stimpy's Invention... rubbish for the landfill. Somehow, QuackShot endures.
Younger folk may not know this, but cartoon licences used to be a bit of a ruse. Butter up some big American studio with your best spritework, and you could go wild with a (relative to independent projects of the time) huge budget. Don't forget, Donkey Kong was originally proposed as a Popeye game. This doesn't mean you're getting quality if you buy any pre-96 Disney game, but if it's from a studio like Capcom, Konami or Sega, you've probably got something to look forward to.
I think the thing in QuackShot that makes it special for me is that it's the first game I played that felt like a real adventure. I was a Mega Drive kid. I didn't have Metroid or Zelda back then. Sonic could reach the end of the level, James Pond could save Santa Claus, and the men in World Cup Italia '90 could score a goal (theoretically), but they didn't explore the world. Donald Duck visits diverse, exotic locations, from MEXICO to EGYPT to TRANSYLVANIA to VIKING SHIP. Each new environment is distinct, richly atmospheric and full of their own one-off ideas.
QuackShot is something of a light Metroidvania, really. Each level is separated by a world map, and you can visit each destination on it in whatever order you choose. Some levels are fairly flat action stages, full of obstacles and enemies to traverse, while others are huge dungeons, scrolling upwards, downwards, left and right as you try and figure out their traps and puzzles. Sometimes you'll come to a dead end where an NPC will tell you about the item they're looking for, and you'll go back to the map to figure out where you might find it. Coming back with a new weapon or piece of equipment can feel as exciting and liberating as any Varia Suit upgrade. QuackShot has far more going on than just about any other cartoon game.
Turning on QuackShot is a commitment. There's no saving, no passwords. Just Donald Duck and the Planet Earth. There's limited health, a very irritating continue system and unreliable power-up distribution. It takes nerves, skill and patience to make it across these hallowed grounds.
The game looks great, following up on the standards set by Castle of Illusion. They've drawn distinct backgrounds for each area in a level, and they're fun, evocative and lovely. The Disney style guide has been thoroughly consulted for character designs, with snakes and killer whales clearly inspired by Kaa and Monstro. It's all through multiple layers of specific offshot weirdness, though. This is largely based on old Donald Duck adventure comics (that I'm only kind-of aware of), reimagined as an Indiana Jones parody, and explored by early 90s Sega developers. There's deadly speakerphones that shoot out the word "BOOM" in balloon letters, and a "Viking Plunger" you can shoot to grab onto birds flying overhead. When I speak of my fondness for QuackShot, it's not through affection for any of the media that surrounds it. It's very specifically targetted at this one, stupid Mega Drive game.
Donald Duck has a gun. He can shoot to kill. That's only if he has the right ammo, though. Your default plunger shot only stuns most enemies. The popcorn ammo spreads out like a shotgun blast, decimating any buzzards or Petes in its wake. He also has a Temper Meter that's always on the screen. It rarely gets much use, though. When he swallows an entire chilli pepper (he is a duck), one of the Calm Donald Heads on the meter turns into a red ANGRY DONALD HEAD. Get five ANGRY DONALD HEADS and he goes ballistic, rampaging through all in his path with furious punches, and weirdly floating up to the top of any walls that block him. Such is the nature of his blind fury. This heavily foreshadowed mechanic is only utilised twice in the entire game, but I like that. QuackShot doesn't do any one idea too much.
Well, perhaps the Maharajah's Palace is too much.
That's the "Water Temple" of QuackShot. The part of the game you feel like you could only reasonably force your way through once in your life, but is always a mandatory part of the otherwise beloved game. Throughout the palace are multiple numbered doors. The numbers don't tell you which room is on the other side, but which room you're in, so they're more of a confusing abstraction than a helpful place marker. Do so much as clip one, and Donald will insist on walking through it, entering another room. Through trial and error, you must figure out which sequence of doors will lead you to the boss, all while your precious popcorn ammo depletes, taking on the many enemies you'll face countless times as you're spawned back at the start of your trail. Get lucky, or devote a special part of your brain to memorising the sequence from a previous playthrough, and you can get through the palace in a couple minutes. I have spent hours in the Maharajah's Palace before. The fully Calm Temper Meter constantly at the bottom of the screen, only to mock me. If you can overcome all this, you'll reach the firebreathing tiger boss. Better hope you saved some popcorn shots, because he is a right fucking bastard to kill with the plunger. I wish you the very best of luck if you attempt this challenge.
The game does have its fair share of aggravating nonsense beyond that (top tip: if you reach a dead end puzzle with no clear solution, remember to LOOK at your inventory), but we're in 1991 Mega Drive territory here. Have you actually tried getting through one of those old Shinobi games recently? This is relatively kind, and it's worth it for the consistently great art, music, setpieces and amusing leaps in logic. Zip lining on the electricity cables at the end of Duckburg remains thrilling for me. It holds a unique significance in my personal history with games, but I'd cautiously suggest it holds up for new players with a taste for this era of Sega. Maybe give it a go? Just make sure you've reset your Temper Meter before you come looking for me afterwards.
"I'm trying to be a hero."
There are once-beloved games from my youth I now dismiss. Radical Rex, Virtual Bart, The Ren & Stimpy Show presents: Stimpy's Invention... rubbish for the landfill. Somehow, QuackShot endures.
Younger folk may not know this, but cartoon licences used to be a bit of a ruse. Butter up some big American studio with your best spritework, and you could go wild with a (relative to independent projects of the time) huge budget. Don't forget, Donkey Kong was originally proposed as a Popeye game. This doesn't mean you're getting quality if you buy any pre-96 Disney game, but if it's from a studio like Capcom, Konami or Sega, you've probably got something to look forward to.
I think the thing in QuackShot that makes it special for me is that it's the first game I played that felt like a real adventure. I was a Mega Drive kid. I didn't have Metroid or Zelda back then. Sonic could reach the end of the level, James Pond could save Santa Claus, and the men in World Cup Italia '90 could score a goal (theoretically), but they didn't explore the world. Donald Duck visits diverse, exotic locations, from MEXICO to EGYPT to TRANSYLVANIA to VIKING SHIP. Each new environment is distinct, richly atmospheric and full of their own one-off ideas.
QuackShot is something of a light Metroidvania, really. Each level is separated by a world map, and you can visit each destination on it in whatever order you choose. Some levels are fairly flat action stages, full of obstacles and enemies to traverse, while others are huge dungeons, scrolling upwards, downwards, left and right as you try and figure out their traps and puzzles. Sometimes you'll come to a dead end where an NPC will tell you about the item they're looking for, and you'll go back to the map to figure out where you might find it. Coming back with a new weapon or piece of equipment can feel as exciting and liberating as any Varia Suit upgrade. QuackShot has far more going on than just about any other cartoon game.
Turning on QuackShot is a commitment. There's no saving, no passwords. Just Donald Duck and the Planet Earth. There's limited health, a very irritating continue system and unreliable power-up distribution. It takes nerves, skill and patience to make it across these hallowed grounds.
The game looks great, following up on the standards set by Castle of Illusion. They've drawn distinct backgrounds for each area in a level, and they're fun, evocative and lovely. The Disney style guide has been thoroughly consulted for character designs, with snakes and killer whales clearly inspired by Kaa and Monstro. It's all through multiple layers of specific offshot weirdness, though. This is largely based on old Donald Duck adventure comics (that I'm only kind-of aware of), reimagined as an Indiana Jones parody, and explored by early 90s Sega developers. There's deadly speakerphones that shoot out the word "BOOM" in balloon letters, and a "Viking Plunger" you can shoot to grab onto birds flying overhead. When I speak of my fondness for QuackShot, it's not through affection for any of the media that surrounds it. It's very specifically targetted at this one, stupid Mega Drive game.
Donald Duck has a gun. He can shoot to kill. That's only if he has the right ammo, though. Your default plunger shot only stuns most enemies. The popcorn ammo spreads out like a shotgun blast, decimating any buzzards or Petes in its wake. He also has a Temper Meter that's always on the screen. It rarely gets much use, though. When he swallows an entire chilli pepper (he is a duck), one of the Calm Donald Heads on the meter turns into a red ANGRY DONALD HEAD. Get five ANGRY DONALD HEADS and he goes ballistic, rampaging through all in his path with furious punches, and weirdly floating up to the top of any walls that block him. Such is the nature of his blind fury. This heavily foreshadowed mechanic is only utilised twice in the entire game, but I like that. QuackShot doesn't do any one idea too much.
Well, perhaps the Maharajah's Palace is too much.
That's the "Water Temple" of QuackShot. The part of the game you feel like you could only reasonably force your way through once in your life, but is always a mandatory part of the otherwise beloved game. Throughout the palace are multiple numbered doors. The numbers don't tell you which room is on the other side, but which room you're in, so they're more of a confusing abstraction than a helpful place marker. Do so much as clip one, and Donald will insist on walking through it, entering another room. Through trial and error, you must figure out which sequence of doors will lead you to the boss, all while your precious popcorn ammo depletes, taking on the many enemies you'll face countless times as you're spawned back at the start of your trail. Get lucky, or devote a special part of your brain to memorising the sequence from a previous playthrough, and you can get through the palace in a couple minutes. I have spent hours in the Maharajah's Palace before. The fully Calm Temper Meter constantly at the bottom of the screen, only to mock me. If you can overcome all this, you'll reach the firebreathing tiger boss. Better hope you saved some popcorn shots, because he is a right fucking bastard to kill with the plunger. I wish you the very best of luck if you attempt this challenge.
The game does have its fair share of aggravating nonsense beyond that (top tip: if you reach a dead end puzzle with no clear solution, remember to LOOK at your inventory), but we're in 1991 Mega Drive territory here. Have you actually tried getting through one of those old Shinobi games recently? This is relatively kind, and it's worth it for the consistently great art, music, setpieces and amusing leaps in logic. Zip lining on the electricity cables at the end of Duckburg remains thrilling for me. It holds a unique significance in my personal history with games, but I'd cautiously suggest it holds up for new players with a taste for this era of Sega. Maybe give it a go? Just make sure you've reset your Temper Meter before you come looking for me afterwards.