EldestBrisingr
Run ‘n Gun-a-thon — Part 2
Contra III starts off with a bang. As soon as the music starts, your instinct is to move right and blast everything in sight. Within 60 seconds, you’re jumping into a tank and annihilating fortification posts. Then a combat plane swoops in and sets the entire street ablaze, forcing you to grab steel beams to navigate the conflagration. After that, a gargantuan alien turtle bursts through a wall, eager to murder our ripped heroes.
All of this happens within the first level, making you think the rest of the game will be similarly energetic and fun. You are greeted with the map of level 2 and realize it’s a top-down level. Okay, no big deal. The top-down levels from Super C and Operation C were tolerable. Then you start playing it and realize you have to control the camera to aim because some nutjob at Konami thought making your head spin during a shooter was a brilliant idea. I rarely get motion-sick, and yet I found these levels to be borderline nauseating. My heart goes out to those who played this on original hardware and needed to vomit after playing. I found out in level 5 that you can hold L to lock your aim in place to counter the quicksand that spins you around. This is nice, but good luck beating the boss without dying.
The other levels are hit-or-miss. Level 3 has some cool setpieces and was just as fun to play as 1. 4 on the other hand is very dull until you’re hopping between missiles in the sky. 6 was also underwhelming with how similar it was to the original game’s alien lair.
So much of the experience is style over substance. In that sense, it has some parallels with Super Castlevania IV. Both titles were technical showcases for the SNES, but I had much more fun hanging out with Simon Belmont. Its atmosphere has yet to be equaled by any 2D platformer and it retained a healthy degree of challenge despite some mechanical tweaks that favored the player. The only reason I would replay Contra III is the first and third levels.
Contra III starts off with a bang. As soon as the music starts, your instinct is to move right and blast everything in sight. Within 60 seconds, you’re jumping into a tank and annihilating fortification posts. Then a combat plane swoops in and sets the entire street ablaze, forcing you to grab steel beams to navigate the conflagration. After that, a gargantuan alien turtle bursts through a wall, eager to murder our ripped heroes.
All of this happens within the first level, making you think the rest of the game will be similarly energetic and fun. You are greeted with the map of level 2 and realize it’s a top-down level. Okay, no big deal. The top-down levels from Super C and Operation C were tolerable. Then you start playing it and realize you have to control the camera to aim because some nutjob at Konami thought making your head spin during a shooter was a brilliant idea. I rarely get motion-sick, and yet I found these levels to be borderline nauseating. My heart goes out to those who played this on original hardware and needed to vomit after playing. I found out in level 5 that you can hold L to lock your aim in place to counter the quicksand that spins you around. This is nice, but good luck beating the boss without dying.
The other levels are hit-or-miss. Level 3 has some cool setpieces and was just as fun to play as 1. 4 on the other hand is very dull until you’re hopping between missiles in the sky. 6 was also underwhelming with how similar it was to the original game’s alien lair.
So much of the experience is style over substance. In that sense, it has some parallels with Super Castlevania IV. Both titles were technical showcases for the SNES, but I had much more fun hanging out with Simon Belmont. Its atmosphere has yet to be equaled by any 2D platformer and it retained a healthy degree of challenge despite some mechanical tweaks that favored the player. The only reason I would replay Contra III is the first and third levels.
1992
Didn’t like this as much as the first. Enemies felt more restrictive in how you could approach them and a lot cheaper in how they attacked. Take the jet pack goons, for example. You have to wait until they’re at a specific altitude to air-kick them and even then the attack could miss for no discernible reason. Other enemies, including but not limited to knife-wielding punks, motorcycle riders, agile ninjas, the skull miniboss in level 3, and the boxer in level 5, encourage a passive playstyle where you wait for them to approach and then strike back. It gets especially tedious in the second half where they throw multiple enemies with giant healthbars at you.
The bosses were the biggest letdown. In the first game, they had distinct fighting styles that, with only a couple exceptions, could be learned and beaten without taking damage. Not so here. Either the fighting style is ripped straight from the original, or they constantly jump around in unpredictable patterns to land charge or grab attacks. There’s nothing as creative as the ninja twins, the chubby pyromaniac, or even the boomerang-wielding giant in the first level.
On a more positive note, the audiovisuals are excellent. The graphics and sound effects are a huge upgrade over the original and the music, while not super memorable to me, has great audio samples for a 16-bit game. The characters feel even more distinct. Max and Skate in particular feel powerful and agile, respectively. Each enemy having a unique name and visible healthbar are also nice touches.
Maybe I just haven’t found the right beat ‘em up for me. This was still more enjoyable than the entire Golden Axe trilogy. Maybe the third or fourth entries will be up my alley.
The bosses were the biggest letdown. In the first game, they had distinct fighting styles that, with only a couple exceptions, could be learned and beaten without taking damage. Not so here. Either the fighting style is ripped straight from the original, or they constantly jump around in unpredictable patterns to land charge or grab attacks. There’s nothing as creative as the ninja twins, the chubby pyromaniac, or even the boomerang-wielding giant in the first level.
On a more positive note, the audiovisuals are excellent. The graphics and sound effects are a huge upgrade over the original and the music, while not super memorable to me, has great audio samples for a 16-bit game. The characters feel even more distinct. Max and Skate in particular feel powerful and agile, respectively. Each enemy having a unique name and visible healthbar are also nice touches.
Maybe I just haven’t found the right beat ‘em up for me. This was still more enjoyable than the entire Golden Axe trilogy. Maybe the third or fourth entries will be up my alley.
1988
Run ‘n Gun-a-thon — Part 1
I love platformers and action games, so it’s weird that I haven’t actually played many entries in the genre that combines the two. Time to fix that. To kick off this marathon, I will be starting with the game that started it all: the original Contra.
The Contra series, and run ‘n guns in general, are notorious for their difficulty. Even easy run ‘n guns tend to be hard to get into. That’s why I recommend playing something like Cuphead before playing Contra. In the latter, you die in one hit and only get three continues of three lives to conquer eight progressively difficult levels. Extra lives can be earned at specific score targets, but they won’t be earned so easily. Without save states or the Konami code, you can only afford to die 12-15 times before it’s game over.
Contra doesn’t beat you to the ground when you lose, it kicks you down a well. Oh, you got hit? Die and lose your upgrades! Used a continue? Better start from the beginning of the level! Lost all of your continues? Start the whole game over! However, the level design is fair. Enemy attack patterns are so simple you can deduce them in a second. This is important since there’s a lot of on-the-fly decision-making as to where to jump and what weapon is best for the occasion. You are also rewarded for handicapping yourself in the current situation if you know an upcoming scenario will be much easier as a result. The laser gun, for example, initially seems like a worse option than the default rifle because most enemies die so quickly anyway, but it makes short work of bosses and security walls if utilized properly. You can plan a strategy prior to a level since weapons always drop in the same locations, but be ready to improvise when something inevitably goes wrong.
If I had to criticize anything about Contra, it would be the two security base levels employing a pseudo-3D perspective. They didn’t bother me too much, but the lack of platforming and less-than-stellar depth perception made them less fun than the side-scroller levels. I also think the spiked walls in level 7 are a throwaway mechanic. They’re only good for catching first-time players, after which they will never pose a serious threat and will slow the player down by a few seconds. It’s a jarring pace-breaker for a game so eager to throw you in the action.
Other than those nitpicks, Contra is a good time. When you know what you’re doing, the game can be demolished in an hour. Understandable considering it was originally an arcade release and I’d rather have that than something that greatly overstays its welcome.
I love platformers and action games, so it’s weird that I haven’t actually played many entries in the genre that combines the two. Time to fix that. To kick off this marathon, I will be starting with the game that started it all: the original Contra.
The Contra series, and run ‘n guns in general, are notorious for their difficulty. Even easy run ‘n guns tend to be hard to get into. That’s why I recommend playing something like Cuphead before playing Contra. In the latter, you die in one hit and only get three continues of three lives to conquer eight progressively difficult levels. Extra lives can be earned at specific score targets, but they won’t be earned so easily. Without save states or the Konami code, you can only afford to die 12-15 times before it’s game over.
Contra doesn’t beat you to the ground when you lose, it kicks you down a well. Oh, you got hit? Die and lose your upgrades! Used a continue? Better start from the beginning of the level! Lost all of your continues? Start the whole game over! However, the level design is fair. Enemy attack patterns are so simple you can deduce them in a second. This is important since there’s a lot of on-the-fly decision-making as to where to jump and what weapon is best for the occasion. You are also rewarded for handicapping yourself in the current situation if you know an upcoming scenario will be much easier as a result. The laser gun, for example, initially seems like a worse option than the default rifle because most enemies die so quickly anyway, but it makes short work of bosses and security walls if utilized properly. You can plan a strategy prior to a level since weapons always drop in the same locations, but be ready to improvise when something inevitably goes wrong.
If I had to criticize anything about Contra, it would be the two security base levels employing a pseudo-3D perspective. They didn’t bother me too much, but the lack of platforming and less-than-stellar depth perception made them less fun than the side-scroller levels. I also think the spiked walls in level 7 are a throwaway mechanic. They’re only good for catching first-time players, after which they will never pose a serious threat and will slow the player down by a few seconds. It’s a jarring pace-breaker for a game so eager to throw you in the action.
Other than those nitpicks, Contra is a good time. When you know what you’re doing, the game can be demolished in an hour. Understandable considering it was originally an arcade release and I’d rather have that than something that greatly overstays its welcome.
Nier: Automata doesn’t justify itself as a video game as much as I would have preferred. The numerous fake endings felt pointless and the gameplay, while varied in scope, becomes repetitive due to heavily limited enemy variety and encounter design. In an uncharacteristic move from Platinum, battles often boil down to simplistic wars of attrition where you mash the attack button and occasionally jump or dodge. It’s a real shame too, because everything else is phenomenal.
The story is unforgettable. A mindbending tale about racism, humanity’s justifications for war, and the necessity of a God for finding purpose in life. Truly one of the best stories the medium has been graced with. The three playthroughs required to see the whole story are well done, especially the last one. Seriously, if you play this and enjoy the gameplay a lot more than I did, Automata may be a contender for your favorite piece of interactive art.
Audiovisually, this is a feast. The graphics are a firm reminder that the AAA industry would be better off dropping photorealism more often in favor of creating a memorable art style that doesn’t require years of development time. I will certainly remember these post-apocalyptic landscapes for a long time. The music accompanying them will burrow itself into your brain. Great to listen to on YouTube for sure, but far more powerful when playing the game.
Despite coming out in a year packed with great games, Automata sold very well, but unlike many commercial successes today, it stands tall as something special. The product of a true visionary. If you are hesitant to play it because of the anime influence, don’t be. The story is far more contemplative than most non-anime narratives and it avoids a lot of the cliches typical of the medium.
The story is unforgettable. A mindbending tale about racism, humanity’s justifications for war, and the necessity of a God for finding purpose in life. Truly one of the best stories the medium has been graced with. The three playthroughs required to see the whole story are well done, especially the last one. Seriously, if you play this and enjoy the gameplay a lot more than I did, Automata may be a contender for your favorite piece of interactive art.
Audiovisually, this is a feast. The graphics are a firm reminder that the AAA industry would be better off dropping photorealism more often in favor of creating a memorable art style that doesn’t require years of development time. I will certainly remember these post-apocalyptic landscapes for a long time. The music accompanying them will burrow itself into your brain. Great to listen to on YouTube for sure, but far more powerful when playing the game.
Despite coming out in a year packed with great games, Automata sold very well, but unlike many commercial successes today, it stands tall as something special. The product of a true visionary. If you are hesitant to play it because of the anime influence, don’t be. The story is far more contemplative than most non-anime narratives and it avoids a lot of the cliches typical of the medium.
2015
This review contains spoilers
Appreciating Undertale is appreciating its commitment to encouraging empathy from the player at every step of the experience. Think back to your first run through the game. Did you actually spare or kill every enemy? Your answer is almost certainly no, and if you did accomplish that, then you went out of your way to achieve it. On a casual run, the Neutral path is what most players will follow because on top of the Pacifist and Genocide routes requiring you to go out of your way to trigger them, a player will try sparing enemies the way the game promised they could instead of killing them. Learning what makes each monster happy requires engaging with them, but it’s not so much about the difficulty of reaching their good side as it is about showing empathy to characters that you would typically have no reason to care about. You can end a battle like any other RPG, and you probably did at some point that first playthrough. It’s convenient, it’s familiar, and it just works.
It’s a proven fact humans instinctively show empathy towards others, especially those we consider our equals, but that all seems to change when we play choice-driven games. In a game with multiple endings, for example, we know the story changes for whichever path we take. We also take for granted that none of our actions will carry over into subsequent playthroughs.
If we are unconcerned with the possible consequences of choosing a darker path in games where we could easily avoid them, then perhaps we haven’t been given a reason to treat the game’s world as if it’s alive. In reality, we all do our best to live a moral life since we understand the positive effects of such choices. We learned that because we were surrounded by positive influences. That is why Flowey is the only “evil” character in Undertale. Asriel lost his empathy after being turned away by the humans in his world, and he had no one to remind him why “KILL OR BE KILLED” is a false narrative until Frisk entered the picture.
Giving the player consequences for their actions that last beyond one playthrough is intriguing, but there’s a reason games often avoid it. Sans notes the player’s determination to see everything the game has to offer “not out of any desire for good and evil, but just because you think you can, and because you ‘can’, you ‘have to.’” In other words, a completionist attitude clashes with the nature of permanent consequences in a game. That’s not to say completionists are wrong for looking at games as vessels for interesting content. Some games that offer different choices, like Fallout 3 or Skyrim, arguably learn more towards discovery and rewarding curiousity. If the player’s choices locked off content forever, then curious players may stop playing the game altogether. That’s why starting fresh on subsequent playthroughs is the norm, because the developers often want players to see everything they created. Plenty of great games were made with that mindset, so it’s a totally valid approach, but I hope Undertale encourages other developers to focus on removing that gap between the player and the game.
The empathy I cultivated for the monsters made the Genocide route incredibly difficult to stomach. I went down that rabbit hole because of that completionist instinct, meaning I treated Undertale as a game instead of a living world. The resulting experience shook me to my core not just because of what I did, but the consequences that accompanied it. The world itself is erased because there’s nothing else to do. Was it time for me to move on? Not just yet. I decided to restore the world by selling Frisk’s soul, forever tainting future Pacifist runs.
I was already impressed with Undertale’s dynamic narrative after my first Pacifist run, but the Genocide ending cemented Toby Fox’s debut as an all-time favorite. A game that responds to player choices long after you expect it to. It comments on the consumerist heart in completing games and how that can affect our perception of the product. But most of all, it is brimming with faith, hope, and love for humanity, asking us to express more empathy and optimism in our personal lives. As such, I think it’s only fair to end this by asking any readers to consider one thing you’re struggling with. Whatever it is, I know you can turn it around. I have faith in you and I hope that by hearing this, you are filled with DETERMINATION.
It’s a proven fact humans instinctively show empathy towards others, especially those we consider our equals, but that all seems to change when we play choice-driven games. In a game with multiple endings, for example, we know the story changes for whichever path we take. We also take for granted that none of our actions will carry over into subsequent playthroughs.
If we are unconcerned with the possible consequences of choosing a darker path in games where we could easily avoid them, then perhaps we haven’t been given a reason to treat the game’s world as if it’s alive. In reality, we all do our best to live a moral life since we understand the positive effects of such choices. We learned that because we were surrounded by positive influences. That is why Flowey is the only “evil” character in Undertale. Asriel lost his empathy after being turned away by the humans in his world, and he had no one to remind him why “KILL OR BE KILLED” is a false narrative until Frisk entered the picture.
Giving the player consequences for their actions that last beyond one playthrough is intriguing, but there’s a reason games often avoid it. Sans notes the player’s determination to see everything the game has to offer “not out of any desire for good and evil, but just because you think you can, and because you ‘can’, you ‘have to.’” In other words, a completionist attitude clashes with the nature of permanent consequences in a game. That’s not to say completionists are wrong for looking at games as vessels for interesting content. Some games that offer different choices, like Fallout 3 or Skyrim, arguably learn more towards discovery and rewarding curiousity. If the player’s choices locked off content forever, then curious players may stop playing the game altogether. That’s why starting fresh on subsequent playthroughs is the norm, because the developers often want players to see everything they created. Plenty of great games were made with that mindset, so it’s a totally valid approach, but I hope Undertale encourages other developers to focus on removing that gap between the player and the game.
The empathy I cultivated for the monsters made the Genocide route incredibly difficult to stomach. I went down that rabbit hole because of that completionist instinct, meaning I treated Undertale as a game instead of a living world. The resulting experience shook me to my core not just because of what I did, but the consequences that accompanied it. The world itself is erased because there’s nothing else to do. Was it time for me to move on? Not just yet. I decided to restore the world by selling Frisk’s soul, forever tainting future Pacifist runs.
I was already impressed with Undertale’s dynamic narrative after my first Pacifist run, but the Genocide ending cemented Toby Fox’s debut as an all-time favorite. A game that responds to player choices long after you expect it to. It comments on the consumerist heart in completing games and how that can affect our perception of the product. But most of all, it is brimming with faith, hope, and love for humanity, asking us to express more empathy and optimism in our personal lives. As such, I think it’s only fair to end this by asking any readers to consider one thing you’re struggling with. Whatever it is, I know you can turn it around. I have faith in you and I hope that by hearing this, you are filled with DETERMINATION.
1994
Since I’ve already offered my thoughts on Mother 1 and 3, I might as well do the same with Mother 2/EarthBound. If I had to sum up my thoughts on the Mother series, it would be that each game is solid with one major flaw. Mother 1 has a great atmosphere and is the quickest to complete overall, but has a lot of grinding; Mother 3 has some nice QoL improvements, a gorgeous soundtrack, and an interesting idea for a plot, but the execution didn’t do it for me personally.
EarthBound’s biggest drawback is rooted in how much it feels like an expanded remake of Mother 1. You’re once again finding eight melodies to defeat Giygas, but with more music, more towns, more setpieces, and more weirdness to accompany you. All welcome additions if it weren’t for the weaker pacing. Sure, modern JRPGs like Xenoblade Chronicles make this game look like Chrono Trigger in terms of pacing, but I’m confident in saying you could remove a third of the setpieces without losing any of the emotional impact. Mother 1 was strange right from the beginning, but EarthBound welcomes you with bright pastels and breezy music. It rarely deviates from that and the times it does are often the most memorable parts of the experience. Because those changes are so rare though, the experience sometimes feels like it’s being strange for the sake of it. Imitating Mother 1 without anything new to say.
Despite that flaw, I would be lying if I said EarthBound doesn’t deserve its status as a game that everyone interested in the medium should play before they die. The presentation, gameplay, story, and dialogue are wonderfully idiosyncratic and there are some great highlights throughout the journey. Even if you are like me and didn’t find EarthBound to be amazing, you will appreciate it.
EarthBound’s biggest drawback is rooted in how much it feels like an expanded remake of Mother 1. You’re once again finding eight melodies to defeat Giygas, but with more music, more towns, more setpieces, and more weirdness to accompany you. All welcome additions if it weren’t for the weaker pacing. Sure, modern JRPGs like Xenoblade Chronicles make this game look like Chrono Trigger in terms of pacing, but I’m confident in saying you could remove a third of the setpieces without losing any of the emotional impact. Mother 1 was strange right from the beginning, but EarthBound welcomes you with bright pastels and breezy music. It rarely deviates from that and the times it does are often the most memorable parts of the experience. Because those changes are so rare though, the experience sometimes feels like it’s being strange for the sake of it. Imitating Mother 1 without anything new to say.
Despite that flaw, I would be lying if I said EarthBound doesn’t deserve its status as a game that everyone interested in the medium should play before they die. The presentation, gameplay, story, and dialogue are wonderfully idiosyncratic and there are some great highlights throughout the journey. Even if you are like me and didn’t find EarthBound to be amazing, you will appreciate it.
I shouldn’t like this game. It’s a grindfest, there’s no rolling HP meter, and the dungeons are unnecessarily gigantic. It’s so archaic nobody in their right mind will play the official release all the way through. Hell, I put it down for a while before completion.
You know what though? Sometimes rough edges are part of the appeal. Even with the grinding, I found Mother to be a snappy and enjoyable experience. What takes one hour in this game takes two in the sequels and four in most other JRPGs. The rich music transcends the hardware limitations, delivering feelings ranging from whimsical adventure to creeping horror. This is a case where the 8-bit presentation enhances the experience. Exploring towns full of tiny, yet wacky character sprites, battling psychotic normalities against a black void, and getting lost in mazes of gray would have hit much less hard if there wasn’t so much open to interpretation.
Mother is a masterful use of crude graphics, empty space, and tonal shifts to turn the player into a kid wandering the unknown. I strongly disagree with the notion it’s not worth playing. EarthBound and Mother 3 are undoubtedly better balanced games and worth experiencing in their own right, but just like remodeling a 30-year old house, there was as much lost as there was gained during the transition.
You know what though? Sometimes rough edges are part of the appeal. Even with the grinding, I found Mother to be a snappy and enjoyable experience. What takes one hour in this game takes two in the sequels and four in most other JRPGs. The rich music transcends the hardware limitations, delivering feelings ranging from whimsical adventure to creeping horror. This is a case where the 8-bit presentation enhances the experience. Exploring towns full of tiny, yet wacky character sprites, battling psychotic normalities against a black void, and getting lost in mazes of gray would have hit much less hard if there wasn’t so much open to interpretation.
Mother is a masterful use of crude graphics, empty space, and tonal shifts to turn the player into a kid wandering the unknown. I strongly disagree with the notion it’s not worth playing. EarthBound and Mother 3 are undoubtedly better balanced games and worth experiencing in their own right, but just like remodeling a 30-year old house, there was as much lost as there was gained during the transition.
2022
Huge thank you to @DeemonAndGames for the Steam giveaway! Your generosity is inspiring!
A Hat in Time gained a reputation for being a great alternative to 3D Mario. It certainly had solid writing, characters, and unique scenarios, but it wasn’t a good platformer. With its extremely restrictive moveset, basic platforming challenges, and collectables that quickly lost their purpose, it was more akin to an amateur’s first stab at the genre.
Tinykin is essentially a weaker version of that title. Somehow, it’s more rudimentary while also lacking most of A Hat in Time’s redeeming qualities.
Every single mechanic in Tinykin can be traced back to a better title. The game’s namesake are the most obvious example, functioning as Pikmin that don’t require babysitting. This is fine for a platformer, but of the five types of Tinykin, only the green variety enhances the platforming in any way. The rest are used for puzzles that essentially solve themselves.
The core moveset is a lot shallower than an open-zone 3D platformer has any right to be. Take the jumping. Milodane barely has any hang time, so he drops like a rock after peak jump height. It really doesn’t pair well with his ability to glide around like Bunny Mario. The soapbar is decent, but there’s so little to master outside of the time trials. At the time of writing this, I haven’t played Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater or Jet Set Radio, the clearest inspirations for the soapbar’s physics, but it doesn’t take a pro to see how much more effort those older classics put into their movement systems.
The more I played Tinykin, the more I wondered what the point of it all was. The hub and spoke level design is neat at first glance, but the theming is just for show. Take away the wallpaper and each level plays exactly the same, even down to the number of side quests available in each one. The numerous collectables do an adequate job making the player feel like they accomplished something, but why bother collecting everything when there’s no system to help players find those last few collectibles you’re missing? The least it could do is be more friendly to completionists than Super Mario Sunshine.
Between all of that is the most uninspired platforming I’ve seen in a long time. Incredibly simple jumps and sparse use of hazards that barely punish the player to begin with. Calling it a B-grade platformer would be an insult to non-Mario platformers that actually bothered to engage the player like Banjo-Kazooie, Sonic Adventure, or Pac-Man World 2. Even A Hat in Time’s weakest challenges were more involved than this.
The story is whatever. I think it would have been more interesting if there were only a few characters that needed to learn the house’s inner workings rather than dozens of NPCs spelling out everything or telling bad jokes. Not much else to say really.
I’m willing to bet everyone reading this grew up playing at least one 3D platformer that delivered an unparalleled feeling of wonder. Given all the advancements in technology and game design, I think it’s fair to expect modern representatives of the genre to recapture that excitement. If Tinykin accomplished that for you, then please ignore my whining and be happy! I’m not here to upset readers. However, I’m not going to apologize for being honest with myself. In a world where 3D platformers are unpopular among indie and AAA studios, I cannot help but be disappointed with Tinykin’s mundanity.
A Hat in Time gained a reputation for being a great alternative to 3D Mario. It certainly had solid writing, characters, and unique scenarios, but it wasn’t a good platformer. With its extremely restrictive moveset, basic platforming challenges, and collectables that quickly lost their purpose, it was more akin to an amateur’s first stab at the genre.
Tinykin is essentially a weaker version of that title. Somehow, it’s more rudimentary while also lacking most of A Hat in Time’s redeeming qualities.
Every single mechanic in Tinykin can be traced back to a better title. The game’s namesake are the most obvious example, functioning as Pikmin that don’t require babysitting. This is fine for a platformer, but of the five types of Tinykin, only the green variety enhances the platforming in any way. The rest are used for puzzles that essentially solve themselves.
The core moveset is a lot shallower than an open-zone 3D platformer has any right to be. Take the jumping. Milodane barely has any hang time, so he drops like a rock after peak jump height. It really doesn’t pair well with his ability to glide around like Bunny Mario. The soapbar is decent, but there’s so little to master outside of the time trials. At the time of writing this, I haven’t played Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater or Jet Set Radio, the clearest inspirations for the soapbar’s physics, but it doesn’t take a pro to see how much more effort those older classics put into their movement systems.
The more I played Tinykin, the more I wondered what the point of it all was. The hub and spoke level design is neat at first glance, but the theming is just for show. Take away the wallpaper and each level plays exactly the same, even down to the number of side quests available in each one. The numerous collectables do an adequate job making the player feel like they accomplished something, but why bother collecting everything when there’s no system to help players find those last few collectibles you’re missing? The least it could do is be more friendly to completionists than Super Mario Sunshine.
Between all of that is the most uninspired platforming I’ve seen in a long time. Incredibly simple jumps and sparse use of hazards that barely punish the player to begin with. Calling it a B-grade platformer would be an insult to non-Mario platformers that actually bothered to engage the player like Banjo-Kazooie, Sonic Adventure, or Pac-Man World 2. Even A Hat in Time’s weakest challenges were more involved than this.
The story is whatever. I think it would have been more interesting if there were only a few characters that needed to learn the house’s inner workings rather than dozens of NPCs spelling out everything or telling bad jokes. Not much else to say really.
I’m willing to bet everyone reading this grew up playing at least one 3D platformer that delivered an unparalleled feeling of wonder. Given all the advancements in technology and game design, I think it’s fair to expect modern representatives of the genre to recapture that excitement. If Tinykin accomplished that for you, then please ignore my whining and be happy! I’m not here to upset readers. However, I’m not going to apologize for being honest with myself. In a world where 3D platformers are unpopular among indie and AAA studios, I cannot help but be disappointed with Tinykin’s mundanity.
If there’s one game that sums up the old saying, “don’t judge a book by its cover,” it’s Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle. Against all odds, this raving union successfully breathed new life into both franchises while also innovating on the turn-based strategy gameplay characterized by the XCOM franchise. The greater emphasis on movement and streamlining hit accuracies to 0%, 50%, and 100% opened the strategy floodgates for both the player and enemies during battles. This dynamism cemented it as one of the best early Switch titles.
Following up that success was a no-brainer, but Ubisoft could no longer hide behind the novelty of the concept. As fun as Kingdom Battle was, it featured some baffling design choices in hindsight, like limited team customization options and a pointless coin economy. To elaborate on the latter, coins were used to buy increasingly powerful versions of existing weapons to fight stronger opponents. This arms race didn’t make for deeper gameplay so much as offer that pleasureful sensation of seeing the numbers go up. Textbook example of a tacked-on RPG system. Additionally, new enemies stopped being introduced in the last world, which made for a plodding finale.
The sequel, Sparks of Hope, fixes most of these issues. You can now pick any three characters you want for a battle and the coins have been repurposed for buying optional battle items. Enemy variety has also been improved, but it’s unfortunately spread thin throughout the lengthy campaign, especially if you go for 100% completion like I did. The AI should have also been a lot better. Even on the highest difficulty, enemies never take advantage of environmental hazards like Bob-ombs, exploding barrels, and gusts of wind. These could have made for some tense battles of cat and mouse, but instead hazards can only be exploited by the player. Sometimes I could formulate a winning strategy just by looking at the map.
The lower difficulty wasn’t a big issue for me though, and that’s because Sparks of Hope makes subtle gameplay refinements that pack a huge punch once you sink your teeth into them. When I saw the trailers, I was confused on what exactly was different about the combat. Kingdom Battle’s grid-based system being replaced with analog movement didn’t appear to change the fundamentals since it was obvious that tiles were still being used to calculate character movement. They were just invisible now. What was the point of being able to freely move around? Then I started playing, and everything gradually made sense. Let me explain.
One of the ways Kingdom Battle emphasized mobility on the battlefield was dashing. How it worked was if an enemy was within a character’s movement range, they could dash into the enemy for extra damage. However, due to limited controller options, Kingdom Battle forced the use of an analog stick for selecting specific tiles on the grid via cursor. Every PC player knows how imprecise this feels compared to a mouse. Unless you moved the cursor really slowly, it was easy to accidentally select a tile next to a dashable enemy, meaning your character would move there instead of dashing first and waste an attack opportunity. A confirmation prompt would’ve alleviated this, but I suspect Ubisoft thought having to click through the same textbox three times per turn would have been absurd. On that, I wholeheartedly agree. The sequel’s analog movement system improves on this because it allows you to position yourself before you dash into enemies, letting you execute actions quickly while ensuring any mistakes made are your fault. It’s a more natural fit for a home console game.
Another unique movement ability was the team jump, allowing one of your units to jump off a teammate to reach a part of the arena they otherwise couldn’t. Sparks of Hope builds on this by allowing you to move a set distance after jumping, indicated by a range circle. You can pull off some sick jump combos with this newfound freedom if you line up your teammates correctly. The 3D World jump panels in some levels are particularly fun to exploit since they don’t count towards a character’s team jump, letting you use as many of them as possible during a turn. This may sound broken, but the maps tend to be larger than those from Kingdom Battle, so I think it all checks out.
The increased freedom of movement is rounded out with the addition of Sparks, Rabbids that have fused with Lumas from Super Mario Galaxy. These can provide passive abilities like an elemental buff for exploiting enemy weaknesses or something powerful like turning invisible, preventing enemies from targeting the user. Each character can carry two Sparks, meaning you can bring six of them into most encounters. They definitely contribute to fights being easier compared to Kingdom Battle, but I had such a blast trying out different character and Spark combinations that I really don’t mind. It’s also important to note Ubisoft limited characters to performing two actions per turn. An action consists of using a character’s weapon, technique, Spark, or a battle item. This means using a Spark locks you out of being able to use that character’s weapon and technique in the same turn. Sparks and techniques also operate on cooldowns and using a character’s weapon locks them in place for the remainder of the turn, so there are trade-offs to consider during the tougher skirmishes.
The freedom even extends beyond the battles. All of the hub worlds are open zones (open world is too misleading a term imo) allowing you to tackle battles and complete side quests in almost any order you see fit. The light puzzle-solving from Kingdom Battle returns, serving as a nice breather after the normal battles. Beep-O also obtains a handful of abilities that open previously inaccessible sections of a map. Unlike the best Metroidvanias, however, this forced backtracking doesn’t enhance the experience. The abilities you need to fully complete a zone are always found on the next one and there’s so little content you’re unable to access the first time that I don’t see why Ubisoft couldn’t go the full mile and make everything accessible in one visit.
Overall, Sparks of Hope feels more confident with its gameplay foundation, but Kingdom Battle is still worth playing for its higher difficulty and deviant Mushroom Kingdom setting. The playerbase seems split on which one they like more. I’m currently swinging towards the sequel, but not by much. Both are quality titles and well worth your attention.
Following up that success was a no-brainer, but Ubisoft could no longer hide behind the novelty of the concept. As fun as Kingdom Battle was, it featured some baffling design choices in hindsight, like limited team customization options and a pointless coin economy. To elaborate on the latter, coins were used to buy increasingly powerful versions of existing weapons to fight stronger opponents. This arms race didn’t make for deeper gameplay so much as offer that pleasureful sensation of seeing the numbers go up. Textbook example of a tacked-on RPG system. Additionally, new enemies stopped being introduced in the last world, which made for a plodding finale.
The sequel, Sparks of Hope, fixes most of these issues. You can now pick any three characters you want for a battle and the coins have been repurposed for buying optional battle items. Enemy variety has also been improved, but it’s unfortunately spread thin throughout the lengthy campaign, especially if you go for 100% completion like I did. The AI should have also been a lot better. Even on the highest difficulty, enemies never take advantage of environmental hazards like Bob-ombs, exploding barrels, and gusts of wind. These could have made for some tense battles of cat and mouse, but instead hazards can only be exploited by the player. Sometimes I could formulate a winning strategy just by looking at the map.
The lower difficulty wasn’t a big issue for me though, and that’s because Sparks of Hope makes subtle gameplay refinements that pack a huge punch once you sink your teeth into them. When I saw the trailers, I was confused on what exactly was different about the combat. Kingdom Battle’s grid-based system being replaced with analog movement didn’t appear to change the fundamentals since it was obvious that tiles were still being used to calculate character movement. They were just invisible now. What was the point of being able to freely move around? Then I started playing, and everything gradually made sense. Let me explain.
One of the ways Kingdom Battle emphasized mobility on the battlefield was dashing. How it worked was if an enemy was within a character’s movement range, they could dash into the enemy for extra damage. However, due to limited controller options, Kingdom Battle forced the use of an analog stick for selecting specific tiles on the grid via cursor. Every PC player knows how imprecise this feels compared to a mouse. Unless you moved the cursor really slowly, it was easy to accidentally select a tile next to a dashable enemy, meaning your character would move there instead of dashing first and waste an attack opportunity. A confirmation prompt would’ve alleviated this, but I suspect Ubisoft thought having to click through the same textbox three times per turn would have been absurd. On that, I wholeheartedly agree. The sequel’s analog movement system improves on this because it allows you to position yourself before you dash into enemies, letting you execute actions quickly while ensuring any mistakes made are your fault. It’s a more natural fit for a home console game.
Another unique movement ability was the team jump, allowing one of your units to jump off a teammate to reach a part of the arena they otherwise couldn’t. Sparks of Hope builds on this by allowing you to move a set distance after jumping, indicated by a range circle. You can pull off some sick jump combos with this newfound freedom if you line up your teammates correctly. The 3D World jump panels in some levels are particularly fun to exploit since they don’t count towards a character’s team jump, letting you use as many of them as possible during a turn. This may sound broken, but the maps tend to be larger than those from Kingdom Battle, so I think it all checks out.
The increased freedom of movement is rounded out with the addition of Sparks, Rabbids that have fused with Lumas from Super Mario Galaxy. These can provide passive abilities like an elemental buff for exploiting enemy weaknesses or something powerful like turning invisible, preventing enemies from targeting the user. Each character can carry two Sparks, meaning you can bring six of them into most encounters. They definitely contribute to fights being easier compared to Kingdom Battle, but I had such a blast trying out different character and Spark combinations that I really don’t mind. It’s also important to note Ubisoft limited characters to performing two actions per turn. An action consists of using a character’s weapon, technique, Spark, or a battle item. This means using a Spark locks you out of being able to use that character’s weapon and technique in the same turn. Sparks and techniques also operate on cooldowns and using a character’s weapon locks them in place for the remainder of the turn, so there are trade-offs to consider during the tougher skirmishes.
The freedom even extends beyond the battles. All of the hub worlds are open zones (open world is too misleading a term imo) allowing you to tackle battles and complete side quests in almost any order you see fit. The light puzzle-solving from Kingdom Battle returns, serving as a nice breather after the normal battles. Beep-O also obtains a handful of abilities that open previously inaccessible sections of a map. Unlike the best Metroidvanias, however, this forced backtracking doesn’t enhance the experience. The abilities you need to fully complete a zone are always found on the next one and there’s so little content you’re unable to access the first time that I don’t see why Ubisoft couldn’t go the full mile and make everything accessible in one visit.
Overall, Sparks of Hope feels more confident with its gameplay foundation, but Kingdom Battle is still worth playing for its higher difficulty and deviant Mushroom Kingdom setting. The playerbase seems split on which one they like more. I’m currently swinging towards the sequel, but not by much. Both are quality titles and well worth your attention.
What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets! But enough talk…Have at you!
For someone that enjoys Metroidvanias, I waited FAR too long to play Symphony of the Night. A game dissected so thoroughly not even the bones have been spared. However, there is still one thing that intrigues me about it. Despite the relatively low difficulty and being quite possibly the most overdesigned game ever with its encyclopedia of items, abilities, and enemies, I was never pulled out of the experience. But why? I had mixed experiences with its GBA successors, including Aria of Sorrow, but not Symphony.
The conclusion I have arrived to is the atmosphere. More often than not, Castlevania has been as scary as the kids saying Trick-or-Treat to you every Halloween. Superficial horror. I wasn’t around when Super Castlevania IV was released, but I feel it was the full realization of the original Castlevania’s journey. The desaturated colors and haunting soundtrack struck fear in the player’s heart, never letting them grow comfortable. Not even the improved whip could remove that feeling.
Symphony of the Night carries a similar tone. Despite how easy it was to become overpowered, the delicate concoction of color, sound, and music sucked me in. The chilling melodies of Dracula’s Castle, Dance of Gold, and Lost Paintings prove Michiru Yamane was born to compose this game.
Modern Metroidvanias like Hollow Knight have revealed cracks in Symphony’s design, like the bosses requiring little strategy and the horrible weapon balancing. Even not-so-great examples of the genre often avoid such shortcomings. However, as far as total packages go, you would be hard-pressed to find a better deal. An unmatched symphony of atmosphere and power fantasy.
For someone that enjoys Metroidvanias, I waited FAR too long to play Symphony of the Night. A game dissected so thoroughly not even the bones have been spared. However, there is still one thing that intrigues me about it. Despite the relatively low difficulty and being quite possibly the most overdesigned game ever with its encyclopedia of items, abilities, and enemies, I was never pulled out of the experience. But why? I had mixed experiences with its GBA successors, including Aria of Sorrow, but not Symphony.
The conclusion I have arrived to is the atmosphere. More often than not, Castlevania has been as scary as the kids saying Trick-or-Treat to you every Halloween. Superficial horror. I wasn’t around when Super Castlevania IV was released, but I feel it was the full realization of the original Castlevania’s journey. The desaturated colors and haunting soundtrack struck fear in the player’s heart, never letting them grow comfortable. Not even the improved whip could remove that feeling.
Symphony of the Night carries a similar tone. Despite how easy it was to become overpowered, the delicate concoction of color, sound, and music sucked me in. The chilling melodies of Dracula’s Castle, Dance of Gold, and Lost Paintings prove Michiru Yamane was born to compose this game.
Modern Metroidvanias like Hollow Knight have revealed cracks in Symphony’s design, like the bosses requiring little strategy and the horrible weapon balancing. Even not-so-great examples of the genre often avoid such shortcomings. However, as far as total packages go, you would be hard-pressed to find a better deal. An unmatched symphony of atmosphere and power fantasy.
In 1988, Super Mario Bros. 3 set a gold standard for 2D platformers. Intricate, challenging level design with an excellent sense of surprise and flow, it managed to trump its already solid predecessors. For many, Super Mario World would go on to become the plumber’s high point with its secret exits. I, however, found it vanilla. Sprawling, empty fields with no identity and worse momentum than the previous outing. To me, it was the start of the series’ stagnation. Super Mario Land 2 had more imagination, but it was made for a device less powerful than the NES, limiting its scope. The next 2D entry, New Super Mario Bros., would not arrive for more than a decade. It, along with its sequels, had droplets of inspiration, but they were lost in a sea of mediocrity.
Between revitalizing Mario for a new generation and creating a worthy successor to the classics, Wonder had Bowser-sized shoes to fill. Ditching “New” in the title was not just Nintendo promising to be better than NSMB, but a declaration that 2D installments are still relevant in a post-Mario Maker world. So, does Wonder fulfill that promise?
YES!!
Wonder is the best 2D Mario since Super Mario Bros 3. I completed the game twice for this review. I first did a co-op playthrough with my wife, and then went through it in single-player. I will be focusing on the single-player because that feels like the intended way to play. While I had fun in multiplayer, it could have used some work. Many of the stages move so quickly that keeping even two players alive is a challenge, particularly during certain wonder effects. Even worse is the camera priority. For some bizarre reason, it targets the character who jumped highest on the last flagpole instead of who is closest to the top or right edge of the screen, only switching players when the leader loses a life. As bland as NSMB was, its multiplayer experience was far more consistent than this.
The main draw of Mario Wonder is the wonder flowers, which temporarily change the stage. These provide exciting shake-ups to the main level design, which is not to say everything before the flower is boring. Quite the opposite! I’ve seen criticism of the flowers for segmenting the fun part of levels from everything else, throwing in a random gimmick for shock value. I could not disagree more on this, for three reasons. First, 2D Mario has been built on gimmicks since Mario 3. Second, the effects always have a thematic link to the level’s main gimmick. In Jewel-Block Cave, for example, you dodge crushers and break crystals, and the Wonder Flower has you do the same thing on a larger scale. And third, while some Wonder effects change the controls, they all follow Miyamoto’s timeless design philosophy of being introduced in a safe environment before challenging the player. Instead of shallow magician tricks, the Wonder Flowers compliment level design that was already great to begin with.
One thing I was worried about prior to release was the world themes. Thankfully, the game proved me wrong. While I wouldn’t say these are as wacky as what Land 2 gifted us, they are more imaginative than NSMB and far more varied than World. My favorite one is the desert. Instead of generic rolling sands, it’s a mysterious ancient palace. What really helps each world stand out is the new cast of enemies. There are so many new foes that the token Goombas, Koopas, and Piranha Plants are relegated to supporting roles, a series rarity. Every foe is used wherever appropriate, even if that means being in just one level. To me, that is further proof the levels were made to house fun gameplay above all else.
As much as I enjoyed Wonder though, there are areas for improvement. Firstly, Nintendo could flesh out Mario’s core moveset a lot more. The badges are supposed to compensate for this, but I found them to be a mixed bag overall. I like that every character controls the same so everyone can play as their favorite character and have the same physics. If players want different controls, some of these badges can be equipped to provide traits from prior games, which include but are not limited to the crouch jump from Mario 2, a Luigi-style high jump, and a Peach-style glide (parachute cap). However, some of these abilities could have easily been part of the core moveset, like the triple jump and dolphin kick. Giving the cast a more dynamic moveset has a lot of untapped potential. For example, the Mega Man X wall jump badge could have allowed for more verticality in some of the level design, but since its optional, only a few badge challenges take advantage of it. For the inevitable sequel, the moveset is where I hope Nintendo starts their work.
I’m also mixed on the new power-ups. The Elephant Fruit is new for the series and the trunk is very effective at attacking enemies and breaking blocks, but I don’t think it’s amazing. As one of the few people who really likes DKC3, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities to Ellie. They’re not identical, but I question why Nintendo advertised it beyond the inherent sillyness of Mario becoming an elephant. It’s just not as versatile as the raccoon, cape, and penguin suits from past games. Less impressive is the Bubble Flower, which is just the blue baby Yoshi from NSMB U. Even ignoring that, it overlaps too heavily with the returning fire flower and numerous jumping badges. Fortunately, the Drill Mushroom has more to offer with its ceiling traversal and complete protection from enemies while underground. While not as flashy as Super Mario Galaxy 2’s incarnation, the tweaks end up complimenting the core platforming a lot better, just as a power-up should.
The secret exits left a lot to be desired. World had a whopping 24, but that number declined with every passing console entry. By the time we got to Mario/Luigi U, we had 12. Wonder goes even further, with a grand total of 7. It’s impossible not to be disappointed when there is only one more secret exit than Mario Land 2! The exits themselves mostly exist for accessing the special world levels, but there are two jarring instances where uncovering said levels is as simple as revisiting the place where you found the world’s Royal Seed, this game’s version of Grand Stars. These two Royal Seeds have zero platforming challenges attached to them and it’s a missed opportunity to add more secret exits.
The other four Royal Seeds are locked behind the worst feature of Wonder: Bowser Jr. Everyone was sick of fighting him multiple times in NSMB DS, and he’s not much better here. Four near-identical skirmishes where you jump on him not three, but four times! WHOA! I should also mention the airship levels, which all share the same Wonder effect and ending setpiece. Nintendo clearly didn’t pay attention to what Sonic, Donkey Kong, and countless other platformers achieved with bosses in the genre. I’ll even go as far as to say NSMB had more to offer. Excluding NSMB 2, each of these titles either had unique bosses or gave the Koopalings different arenas or tactics. The Bowser fight from Wii is also one of the best final bosses in the 2D games. Wonder’s final boss was also fun and bucks the Giant Bowser trope, but it shouldn’t have been the ONLY fun boss.
Much has been said about Mario Wonder’s difficulty. It is true modern Mario games do not get hard until the special world. To an extent, I understand why this is the case. Mario games are supposed to be for everyone, but the franchise has existed for so long that most long-time fans have much sharper platforming skills than newcomers and thus need a challenge. Between the badges and online features like standees, it has never been easier to finish a Mario game. However, it’s important to note that veterans can easily ignore these features. On top of that, Nintendo used free-roaming sections on the map to offer more challenging courses for veterans that beginners can ignore until they’re ready. These courses are nowhere near as challenging as the NES games, but like the rest of Wonder, they are unique and fun, and the special world has almost a dozen tough courses. I could have done without the break time levels though. They are ridiculously short and would have been better off as one-time obstacles for Purple 10 Coins, Wonder’s equivalent of Star Coins.
Mario Wonder’s missed opportunities prevent me from considering it the best of the plumber’s side-scrolling adventures. However, it is a breath of fresh air after decades of stagnation. Between this, a new Princess Peach game, and remakes of delightfully weird Mario RPGs, it feels like a new, creative era has begun for the franchise. If I’m right, then even more exciting things are to come! The fact this franchise can be so captivating after nearly 40 years is truly wonderful!
Between revitalizing Mario for a new generation and creating a worthy successor to the classics, Wonder had Bowser-sized shoes to fill. Ditching “New” in the title was not just Nintendo promising to be better than NSMB, but a declaration that 2D installments are still relevant in a post-Mario Maker world. So, does Wonder fulfill that promise?
YES!!
Wonder is the best 2D Mario since Super Mario Bros 3. I completed the game twice for this review. I first did a co-op playthrough with my wife, and then went through it in single-player. I will be focusing on the single-player because that feels like the intended way to play. While I had fun in multiplayer, it could have used some work. Many of the stages move so quickly that keeping even two players alive is a challenge, particularly during certain wonder effects. Even worse is the camera priority. For some bizarre reason, it targets the character who jumped highest on the last flagpole instead of who is closest to the top or right edge of the screen, only switching players when the leader loses a life. As bland as NSMB was, its multiplayer experience was far more consistent than this.
The main draw of Mario Wonder is the wonder flowers, which temporarily change the stage. These provide exciting shake-ups to the main level design, which is not to say everything before the flower is boring. Quite the opposite! I’ve seen criticism of the flowers for segmenting the fun part of levels from everything else, throwing in a random gimmick for shock value. I could not disagree more on this, for three reasons. First, 2D Mario has been built on gimmicks since Mario 3. Second, the effects always have a thematic link to the level’s main gimmick. In Jewel-Block Cave, for example, you dodge crushers and break crystals, and the Wonder Flower has you do the same thing on a larger scale. And third, while some Wonder effects change the controls, they all follow Miyamoto’s timeless design philosophy of being introduced in a safe environment before challenging the player. Instead of shallow magician tricks, the Wonder Flowers compliment level design that was already great to begin with.
One thing I was worried about prior to release was the world themes. Thankfully, the game proved me wrong. While I wouldn’t say these are as wacky as what Land 2 gifted us, they are more imaginative than NSMB and far more varied than World. My favorite one is the desert. Instead of generic rolling sands, it’s a mysterious ancient palace. What really helps each world stand out is the new cast of enemies. There are so many new foes that the token Goombas, Koopas, and Piranha Plants are relegated to supporting roles, a series rarity. Every foe is used wherever appropriate, even if that means being in just one level. To me, that is further proof the levels were made to house fun gameplay above all else.
As much as I enjoyed Wonder though, there are areas for improvement. Firstly, Nintendo could flesh out Mario’s core moveset a lot more. The badges are supposed to compensate for this, but I found them to be a mixed bag overall. I like that every character controls the same so everyone can play as their favorite character and have the same physics. If players want different controls, some of these badges can be equipped to provide traits from prior games, which include but are not limited to the crouch jump from Mario 2, a Luigi-style high jump, and a Peach-style glide (parachute cap). However, some of these abilities could have easily been part of the core moveset, like the triple jump and dolphin kick. Giving the cast a more dynamic moveset has a lot of untapped potential. For example, the Mega Man X wall jump badge could have allowed for more verticality in some of the level design, but since its optional, only a few badge challenges take advantage of it. For the inevitable sequel, the moveset is where I hope Nintendo starts their work.
I’m also mixed on the new power-ups. The Elephant Fruit is new for the series and the trunk is very effective at attacking enemies and breaking blocks, but I don’t think it’s amazing. As one of the few people who really likes DKC3, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities to Ellie. They’re not identical, but I question why Nintendo advertised it beyond the inherent sillyness of Mario becoming an elephant. It’s just not as versatile as the raccoon, cape, and penguin suits from past games. Less impressive is the Bubble Flower, which is just the blue baby Yoshi from NSMB U. Even ignoring that, it overlaps too heavily with the returning fire flower and numerous jumping badges. Fortunately, the Drill Mushroom has more to offer with its ceiling traversal and complete protection from enemies while underground. While not as flashy as Super Mario Galaxy 2’s incarnation, the tweaks end up complimenting the core platforming a lot better, just as a power-up should.
The secret exits left a lot to be desired. World had a whopping 24, but that number declined with every passing console entry. By the time we got to Mario/Luigi U, we had 12. Wonder goes even further, with a grand total of 7. It’s impossible not to be disappointed when there is only one more secret exit than Mario Land 2! The exits themselves mostly exist for accessing the special world levels, but there are two jarring instances where uncovering said levels is as simple as revisiting the place where you found the world’s Royal Seed, this game’s version of Grand Stars. These two Royal Seeds have zero platforming challenges attached to them and it’s a missed opportunity to add more secret exits.
The other four Royal Seeds are locked behind the worst feature of Wonder: Bowser Jr. Everyone was sick of fighting him multiple times in NSMB DS, and he’s not much better here. Four near-identical skirmishes where you jump on him not three, but four times! WHOA! I should also mention the airship levels, which all share the same Wonder effect and ending setpiece. Nintendo clearly didn’t pay attention to what Sonic, Donkey Kong, and countless other platformers achieved with bosses in the genre. I’ll even go as far as to say NSMB had more to offer. Excluding NSMB 2, each of these titles either had unique bosses or gave the Koopalings different arenas or tactics. The Bowser fight from Wii is also one of the best final bosses in the 2D games. Wonder’s final boss was also fun and bucks the Giant Bowser trope, but it shouldn’t have been the ONLY fun boss.
Much has been said about Mario Wonder’s difficulty. It is true modern Mario games do not get hard until the special world. To an extent, I understand why this is the case. Mario games are supposed to be for everyone, but the franchise has existed for so long that most long-time fans have much sharper platforming skills than newcomers and thus need a challenge. Between the badges and online features like standees, it has never been easier to finish a Mario game. However, it’s important to note that veterans can easily ignore these features. On top of that, Nintendo used free-roaming sections on the map to offer more challenging courses for veterans that beginners can ignore until they’re ready. These courses are nowhere near as challenging as the NES games, but like the rest of Wonder, they are unique and fun, and the special world has almost a dozen tough courses. I could have done without the break time levels though. They are ridiculously short and would have been better off as one-time obstacles for Purple 10 Coins, Wonder’s equivalent of Star Coins.
Mario Wonder’s missed opportunities prevent me from considering it the best of the plumber’s side-scrolling adventures. However, it is a breath of fresh air after decades of stagnation. Between this, a new Princess Peach game, and remakes of delightfully weird Mario RPGs, it feels like a new, creative era has begun for the franchise. If I’m right, then even more exciting things are to come! The fact this franchise can be so captivating after nearly 40 years is truly wonderful!
2023
The caves single-handedly ruined my enjoyment of Pikmin 2. They started out as fun diversions from the regular gameplay, but once I realized most of the game’s content is in them, they began to drag. The later caves amplified this feeling as they were much longer and kept recycling the same enemies and hazards without iterating on any type of challenge. Some asshole also decided to make enemies, bombs, and rocks fall from the ceiling in some caves. This alone would be enough to convince me these were thrown together just to spite players, but I believe there’s a bigger issue at hand: the player is not pressured in an engaging way.
The inability to reproduce Pikmin underground initially seemed like a good stressor, except you can take as much time as you want with these often brutal challenges. When combined with the game saving every floor, the caves had a lethargic pace where I would reload my save file when losing more than a few Pikmin. I had no idea how long each cave would be, so why not reset when things inevitably go awry? Annoyingly, Nintendo did not include the save reload option from Pikmin 1, requiring me to close and reopen the game every time I wanted to try again. The randomly generated map and enemy placements often made treasure rage-inducing to acquire, so much so I had to take a week-long break before completion. The Submerged Castle was the only cave I found enjoyable and challenging. Being forced to use a specific Pikmin to eliminate obstacles and collect treasure before an invincible foe showed up was an excellent change of pace and brought back the first game’s urgency without feeling unfair. Its five-floor count also ensured it never overstayed its welcome.
The above-ground sections were fine, but they felt like a means to a miserable end with the abundance of caves. I can only hope they are better in Pikmin 4. They’re a good idea, but I hate the execution here. Definitely a one and done experience.
The inability to reproduce Pikmin underground initially seemed like a good stressor, except you can take as much time as you want with these often brutal challenges. When combined with the game saving every floor, the caves had a lethargic pace where I would reload my save file when losing more than a few Pikmin. I had no idea how long each cave would be, so why not reset when things inevitably go awry? Annoyingly, Nintendo did not include the save reload option from Pikmin 1, requiring me to close and reopen the game every time I wanted to try again. The randomly generated map and enemy placements often made treasure rage-inducing to acquire, so much so I had to take a week-long break before completion. The Submerged Castle was the only cave I found enjoyable and challenging. Being forced to use a specific Pikmin to eliminate obstacles and collect treasure before an invincible foe showed up was an excellent change of pace and brought back the first game’s urgency without feeling unfair. Its five-floor count also ensured it never overstayed its welcome.
The above-ground sections were fine, but they felt like a means to a miserable end with the abundance of caves. I can only hope they are better in Pikmin 4. They’re a good idea, but I hate the execution here. Definitely a one and done experience.
Novelty and simplicity are Crypt of the NecroDancer’s greatest strengths. All you need to play is the arrow keys and yet this is one of the hardest roguelikes you will ever play, particularly if you dive into the unlockable characters. I’m nowhere near good enough to beat the game with Aria, but I still enjoyed trying to stay in the groove with Cadence and Melody. It should go without saying the music is wonderful. The singing shopkeeper is a delight, to the point where I wish he was playable. In any case, definitely check this out if you like rhythm games or want a new take on a roguelike.
Also, check out the crossover follow-up Cadence of Hyrule. Its lower difficulty and reduced roguelike elements make it a perfect entry point for the rhythm gameplay. Even if that’s not your cup of tea, the exploration is great and there’s an option to disable the rhythm if you struggle with that. Brace Yourself Games has earned my respect and I look forward to playing Rift of the Necrodancer after it releases!
Also, check out the crossover follow-up Cadence of Hyrule. Its lower difficulty and reduced roguelike elements make it a perfect entry point for the rhythm gameplay. Even if that’s not your cup of tea, the exploration is great and there’s an option to disable the rhythm if you struggle with that. Brace Yourself Games has earned my respect and I look forward to playing Rift of the Necrodancer after it releases!
2023
Remember how Baby Mario cried if you didn’t protect him in Yoshi’s Island? That was done to encourage more intelligent play. This is even more true in Pikmin. Unless you have mastered the game, you WILL lose some of your squad, and it is never not haunting. You might blame the AI when they get stuck under a bridge or stand in the shadow of a Wollyhop, but even these moments can be circumvented with better planning and skill. I lost many hundreds of Pikmin on my first playthrough, enough to where I wanted to do a second one. Here, I was able to reduce my losses by more than half and beat my day record by an entire week. The time limit guarantees the world never revolves around you, but even the smallest changes in strategy will make a huge difference.
1992
Fire ‘n Ice might be the best NES game nobody talks about. A puzzle game about creating, destroying, and pushing ice blocks to extinguish fires. Dana’s limited moveset and the way ice interacts with the environment are milked for all their worth. Pipes, torches, and black ice add some nice variable state to the later puzzles. I would have liked to see one or two more twists like that, but what’s here is a ton of fun. An easy recommendation to puzzle enthusiasts and one of my new favorite NES games.