Imagine if they actually retained the world-building simulation sections tho, this had the potential to be one of the best SNES game if it did. Alas, the first game was maybe a bit too forward thinking for most people so they made a safer game, albeit they tightened up the action gameplay and made it look very pretty instead.

It's pretty solid otherwise. I think they put most of their resources into the graphics. The controls are decent, but all SNES controls are just a bit wonky. Not a fan of double jumping right into a glide, it's certainly something you have to get over, get used to and embrace as traversing a lot of the levels requires mastering it. Most of the levels have a boss and midboss and while I can't say every boss fight is super intuitive, they do usually look pretty cool.

One of the more under-appreciated mascots of the 16-bit era. Rocket Knight Adventures feels like it was crafted with love, being one of the best looking games on the Sega Genesis.

An action platformer with a rocket boost mechanic, the game feels like Donkey Kong Country with the ability to shoot out of a blast barrel at will. Absolutely satisfying gameplay and Konami knocked it out of the park on their first try.

Difficulty is hard but fair. If you play with unlimited continues, the challenge level is somewhere around the challenge of a souls game, maybe a little easier. Bosses are easily the best part of the game.

I remember being super impressed by all the setpieces in this game, and now having finished the game, the setpieces absolutely do not slow down until the credits roll. Quite impressive again for a Genesis tile. Pls bring this boy back Konami.

I think Sam & Max are the most gay-coded characters ever created and I honestly could not tell you why. Maybe its the suit and the height difference.

Anyway, it boggles my mind just how effortlessly and hilariously witty this game is. I feel like a lot the time attempts at comedy through fourth wall breaks and quippy witicisms come off as really forced and groan-worthy, but Sam & Max are able to pull it off so well. Their dynamic, wordy banter, disregard for the law and morality, and gleefully cynical outlook on the world is just delightful and makes the humor really work. It's paired with absolutely sublime art direction and animation to boot. Sometimes the puzzles are fairly obtuse, but I think that's the price you have to pay with some of these older adventure games.

I forget when I first played Super Castlevania IV, but it was quite some time ago, and all I really remember is not enjoying it. I've been on a big Castlevania kick lately, and I knew it would finally be time to revisit SCV4. Will I see the error of my ways, or will all the bad memories come flooding back? Yeah, I still don't like this one.

It's not a bad game; it's just completely serviceable. This game feels like what an AI would spit out if you tasked it to make a Castlevania game based on all the previous titles. Story-wise, it's a retelling of the first game, with Simon Belmont taking on Dracula for the first time. In the North American version, the story was altered to take place after Simon's Quest. The gameplay, on the other hand, is a whole other can of worms. The biggest change here is multi-directional whipping. Sounds cool on paper, right? But I'm going to be a snobby, elitist asshole and say this shit stinks. This trivializes most encounters and makes nearly all of the subweapons practically useless. At least you can flail your whip around if you hold the attack button.

Jumping was also changed. In the previous games, your jump was more methodical; you were committed to your jumps. In SCV4, you can adjust your jump midair. I don't mind this as much, but I really do prefer how your jumps were performed in the previous games. Honestly, the most glaring issue here is that I find the overall package boring. I never cared for this game's visual aesthetic, and the soundtrack was just kind of there. Also, why is this game so long? It wasn't until after I finished stage 9 that I realized the game was still going. I replayed Rondo of Blood the day prior to writing this, and that game is a nice, brisk seven stages with branching paths and a second playable character (I would have used Dracula's Curse as an example instead, but I haven't replayed it yet).

Super Castlevania IV kind of just exists. Again, I don't hate it; I just don't find any aspect of it particularly interesting. I get why people like this; 8-way whipping is cool, and more mobility in the air is nice, but for me, I was yearning to go take a nap instead. Ya know, I also wasn't super (heh) into Contra III; maybe I should give that one a second try as well.

Castlevania makes its big leap to 16-bits with Super Castlevania IV and the results are… I mean, yeah sure man it’s ok! From what I understand this was an early release for that newfangled Super Nintendo Machine, and it’s within that context that this game makes the most sense to me. This is a hardware showcase, which explains the emphasis on technical spectacle and the fact that it’s a sorta-retelling of Castlevania 1 but with a shiny new coat of paint and all-new all-different playstyle. And in that respect, it’s very impressive! If I played this in 1991 it would have undoubtedly rocked my socks off. This ragtag bunch of programmers did a lovely job and their mothers should all be very proud, etc. etc. etc. It’s just a shame then that playing it now, after seeing what else the series has to offer, the most I can really muster for Super Castlevania IV is tepid indifference.

I guess we’re just diving in then. Let me address the elephant in the room and tackle this game’s most controversial element first: the play control. Our main man Simon is back, and he brought some swanky new moves with him for his 16-bit debut. Belmont can now whip in 8 directions, his chain extending much farther than ever before, with the added benefit of being able to control his jumps in mid-air. This is a HUGE shakeup for a series originally built around a stiff, limiting control scheme, but it’s a shakeup I don’t necessarily mind. While I adored the classic controls precisely because of their inflexibility and strongly disagree with the idea it was anything that needed to be “fixed”, I also don’t think there’s anything inherently sacrilegious about wanting to make an entry in this series that’s focused on being more empowering and comfortable to use. Lots of characters had their movesets expanded and streamlined in the transition to the SNES, often to great success. Hell, Megaman X is basically an entire sub-franchise based on this principle and I adore those games, so fuck it, we ball. I’m fine with the Belmont clan trying something new, and excited to see what fresh opportunities that may open up for the overall game design.

But that’s kinda where my beef with Super Castlevania IV lies: its disinterest in really examining those opportunities. Aside from a few (admittedly cool) grappling sections, this is by and large the same shit, different whip, without any real thought put into how that difference dramatically changes the way Castlevania feels. Enemies and stage layouts do little to account for the incredible amount of range and maneuverability your new octo-directional god-flail provides, resulting in a game that’s less concerned with deliberate positioning or thoughtful movement as it is pressing B to steamroll and Belmont-struttin’ to the finish. I still died plenty, sure, but when I revived I was never asked to change up my strategy, since plowing forward head-first was almost always the most viable option. I wasn’t even looking at my heart counter for most of the game, because your whip is just so absurdly useful it makes bothering with subweapons entirely pointless. The call for precision does start to pick up eventually, but only in the last third or so, and mostly by means of really fiddly platforming and a lot of instant-death spikes with weird hitboxes. It’s just…sloppy, and that’s the last word I thought I’d associate with Castlevania.

Let me be clear, because I’m worried this might be misconstrued: I’m not bothered by the fact Super Castlevania IV isn’t as rigid or challenging as what came before, as much as I’m bothered that it’s simply so much less engaging to play. I got hooked on Castlevania because it was the kind of game you couldn’t just mindlessly brute-force your way through, you had to take your time and think through your actions if you wanted to improve. It was tough but always fair, always intentional, and if you were willing to meet it on its level it was an immensely satisfying experience to learn and master each stage. Super Castlevania IV is not disappointing because it’s different or easy, it’s disappointing because I’m doing the same thing I’ve been doing for 4 games straight but more brainless than ever. It’s not exactly a bad time, it feels good enough to play in the moment, but it isn’t really rewarding or memorable long-term, and the fact that it’s three times the length these usually go for really highlights its shallowness.

All this might be excusable if the presentation was better but honestly I’m not feeling that either, man. There’s a few good backgrounds here and there and the exuberance that it explores the SNES hardware with is hard not to be somewhat charmed by (Mode 7 hallways, cool as fuck dude) but most of this looks really muddy and bland to me. It lacks the goofy cartoon monster mash aesthetics of its predecessors but hasn’t quite arrived at the gothic anime look of what’s to come, so you get this weird middle child without much visual personality of its own. Music is also a real letdown, you’d think a console as well-suited to absolutely fucking shredding as the SNES would be packed full of new rockin’ Castlevania bangers but it’s mostly a very ambient, atmospheric affair. Which I could maybe get behind if it was done better but a lot of this just sounds kinda dinky and lame, returning favorites like Vampire Killer and Bloody Tears notwithstanding. Honestly this rendition of Bloody Tears is SO good on its own I’m almost willing to let everything else in this paragraph slide. Almost. Simon’s Quest truthers stay forever 🔛🔝!

I dunno. This review is a mess. I don’t like being this mean towards a game I’m this lukewarm on, but I also can’t lie and act like this was a real showstopper in any regard either. It’s far from bad, but nothing about it really compels me, which is a shame. It’s the biggest, grandest Castlevania yet, and I’ve already forgotten most of it. I can respect it, I can appreciate it, but I think this one is just a swing and a miss for me personally.

Now this is what I'm talking about. Super Castlevania IV takes what the previous game stumble at and makes it work and shows its true potential on the Super Nintendo

The game is more of a reimagining of the first Castlevania, which may seem disappointing to some, but everything they've added here makes it one of the most fun Castlevania games to play. The most significant improvement they've made is the control. No longer are you restrictive of pointing your whip straight out, and hopefully, it hits the enemy or makes leaps of faith; instead, you can now whip in all eight directions and dangle your whip for funsies, but you can now control your jumps in mid-air. That alone makes you feel like Simon can do anything, even moonwalk up the stairs; that means most of your deaths are no longer caused by cheap and inconsistent deaths; now it feels like your deaths, for the most part, are heavily your fault. It's one of the most satisfying things to come out of this game, and it's such a shame that this is the only game where you have the freedom of control

The levels in Super Castlevania IV are less of a gothic funhouse and focus more on the atmosphere, and the same can be said with the music. My God, the soundtrack is an absolute banger, with my favorites being the Theme of Simon Belmont, The Submerged City, The Library, The Treasure Room, and the Super Castlevania IV rendition of Bloody Tears. This is some high-quality Castlevania music, and this is one of the best soundtracks to come out of the Super Nintendo period

My only gripe with the game is near the very end. The stage where we had to climb stairs that crumble fast while a saw was coming up and later hopping on moving platforms dodging spikes, was the most annoying part of the entire game. But with some practice, it's doable, but the fight with Slogra after it was a pain in the ass

Super Castlevania IV is the most fun I had with a Castlevania game. The controls are tight, the music is incredible, the challenge is not too strenuous but not too easy, and is easily replayable. This is my favorite game in the series so far and one of the best games on the Super Nintendo. Highly recommend

Of Dracula, all we can say we know is what he is not.

For one thing, we already know that even "vampire" is a nebulous term pregnant with variegated meanings, so much that one could say a vampire is, as much as they don't like to admit it, just as much a "miserable pile of secrets" as a man itself. We know that one can identify as a vampire without necessarily consuming blood, shunning garlic, injuring itself by exposure to the sun, being harmed by a stake to the heart, and/or avoiding the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ. So long as one exhibits both a compulsive tendency to explain precisely what makes one a vampire (forget everything you think you know, they might exhort to you. Crosses? Don't even tickle. Garlic? Love it on my pizza, and so on), and also a vehement hatred of wolfmen, one can comfortably be called a vampire. And while these varieties of vampirism can seem mercurial, or even frivolous at a first glance, it is important to note that vampire identity, like sexuality or gender, is not chosen but rather assigned to a vampire via nurture or nature and thus deserving of our respect. Of course a real vampire can sparkle, and we owe it to real sparkling vampires not to mock them for it.

Just so, we know that Dracula is no one specific person, not just a pale and gaunt Eastern European lord of a grand imposing castle, not just a black cape and a v-shaped hairline, not just a sexualized anime avatar, and certainly not just a voivoide of old Romania with a grisly rumor that clings to him and refuses to let go, try as he might to fend it off while also fending off the advancing Ottoman Empire. No, a Dracula is a wide umbrella of meaning, a general idea of the ideal Dracula, made manifest once every one hundred years. Neither is his castle a fixed spot of real estate, but transcends the Carpathian Mountains and slithers about the sensible world amoeba-like into various continents and epochs, even as far as Japan and as recent as just beyond the fin-de-twentieth-siecle.

The castle is as massive as it is peripatetic, boasting a number of rooms and wings and towers and even auxiliary keeps aside the main structure, and within them all plenty of room in the observatory, the treasury, the library, the dungeon, and other numerous haunts to house a large assortment of beasties and baddies. For every outlandish monster, a large animated skull with a serpentine tongue, perhaps, or a pair of aristocratic dancers become ghosties at the last minute of their mutual deaths, or even a bat made of stray gold coins and jewels, one will just as well find familiar mainstays in the popular imagination. One is reminded of the famous gatherings of popular monsters of old, like the "monster mash," in which the likes of Frankenstein, the Mummy, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and even the Medusa, all showing up to do the graveyard smash.

It seems odd to imagine these creatures, so fiercely independent in our collective unconsciousness as much as they are fearsome, now serving under the thrall of Dracula every century, but what can we do but observe the facts with our senses? The famous living-dead creation of Dr. Frankenstein, as we all know, was last seen wandering the antarctic tundra, pondering his humanity vis-a-vis is it there at all or not, and not, as many people mistakenly believe, wandering about and pedantically correcting people that he is not "Frankenstein" but rather, in fact, the man's creation. One hopes that, now bidden by Dracula to await human intruders within his deepest dungeons to simply pelt that intruder with vials of potions (which we can never know and only wonder if they contain a secret to restoring or even amplifying its humanity), the beast has ample time to ponder its ontology.

The Medusa, the singular creation of the ancient Greeks, and so singularly slain long ago by one of those impossibly ideal Greek heroes, so very much a creature of its own time and place, we are now shocked to see hob-nobbing with modern beasties. We fail in any time or place blackened by Dracula's castle to see in its attendance, for example, the Chimera, the Minotaurus or the Nemean Lion, and we note that, while not impossible, sightings of Cerberuses and Hydras are exceedingly rare (to be fair, harpies are a common fixture, but also to be fair, it goes without saying that harpies don't count). It comes at no surprise to the would-be foe of Dracula that he encounters on its way to a medusa, not hordes of underlings, but rather hordes of statues, beasties themselves being just as susceptible to its stone-death glare as any ancient Greek man woman or child in its heyday. On a not-too-unrelated side note, it remains a point of conjecture as to how the great stone Golem that frequents these monster-mashes was first created. Could it have been an amalgamation of the Medusa's careless glances?

Now consider the Mummy, how aeons ago the lord and master of Upper and Lower ancient Egypt, Akmodan the second of his name, after a long and fruitful reign upon which the great Amun-Ra smiled as brightly as any other of those proud potentates of the sun, seemed content to have his organs scooped out and his blood drained to the last drop and his remaining husk pickled in saltpeter baths and wrapped in the finest linens woven from that land's famous cotton, that he may enjoy the afterlife for all time with the old gods across the metaphysical pond. One once again marvels to see now the bandaged man traverse to such a drastically different land and climate, and so far advanced into another timeline, so far away from his old gods, to idle away the nights upon the hands of the great keep's clock, helpfully always set to a quarter to witching hour to provide him a level plane to walk to and fro, for no other purpose than to one day entangle a would-be vampire killer with its own bandages, of which the old embalmers apparently gave him an infinite supply to spare for the task.

It alarms one to learn that the Dracula is the lord and master of them all, and he is so every one hundred years. He even holds sway over death itself, commanding the cloaked and sickle-wielding father time to start the party again and again. It is Dracula who throws the eternal centennial beastie party, and it is Dracula who will endure long when this civilization fades into memory. When the long-imagined moment finally arrives when extra-terrestrials land on the surface of our scarred and barren yet once-great planet, they will be greeted with a distant wolf's howl to the moon, a great drawbridge falling across a moat before them, and a creaky open door with a spooky invitation to enter if they dare. Dracula can be killed but he will never die, and so Dracula will provide us sequel after sequel. Dracula will never leave us alone, indeed, not even long after there is no more "us," let alone viable heroes of legitimate Belmont stock. Dracula, like mankind's capacity for evil, endures and will endure for as long, if not longer, as mankind endures alongside him. "Mankind has ill need of a savior such as he," true, but it is the only one available to us, and indeed, the only one we deserve.

(It should be noted with care, however, that in its entire history of century-parties spanning from the eve of the First Crusade all the way up to the third millennium, not once has the traditional adversary of the vampire, the wolfman, ever darkened the footsteps of Dracula's spooky abode with an invitation in hand, and thus never once has such a wolfman subsequently suffered the lash of the Belmonts' dreaded Vampire Killer. Indeed, in all the annals of the Dracula saga to date, the only mention of a wolfman involves a single Dracula appearance, circa '64, when, in lieu of the usual latest whip-brandishing scion of the Belmont clan, it was in fact only a wolfman who (appropriately enough, given the historical animosity exhibited between vampires and wolfmen) dared to oppose Dracula this time, to face alone the full brunt of this Beloved of the Night, the King of All Vampires and his entire horde of monsters at his beck and call. We do not discuss this game, however, not under any circumstances whatsoever.)

Wild Guns-like that's mostly really excellent, I was surprised how even into the later sections of the game, the enemy patterns stay consistently fair, creative and interesting. Every screen is a densely-packed and panoramic canvas full of things to pummel away at. It gets monotonous due to low damage output though - many later sections force you into jumping to dodge, and you can't fire while jumping, so there's no good way to shoot back, and even if you can, you're doing like 3-5% of their healthbar at a time. By the end of the run I did find myself taking intentional deaths because it was more fun to spam my bomb button rapidfire than to try finding those microscopic opportunities to return fire.

Retro Yearly List #18 [1992: Mortal Kombat]

Right, when it comes to MK, I have to pay attention to how much nostalgia factor I'm putting in my reviews since it should be one of my favorite franchises of all time.

MK1 was one of my most played cartridges back on SNES times, for my journey here I decided to go with the Arcade version, and I just learned that the port is extremely underwhelming, the lack of blood and censored fatalities take out basically what makes those titles shine. I remember well the first time I got access to internet and all the inputs, and tried to perform the fatalities on my SNES, then I hit Johnny Cage's and was like... W%F was that ?

Talking about the original version, it's pretty good, even though the game was a banger for me in the old times, now I can see the effects of time on the first title.
Gameplay is pretty stiff and slow, and sometimes bugs will occur, you can't combo more than 2 moves here and even that is not that easy to do. Sometimes even special moves will fail to be cast, but fatalities inputs are ok here.

The graphics.. you know, it's a unique style, it blew our child minds when we first saw it, I would say it aged well.
The sound is nostalgic, but like any MK game, it just do its job, which adds to the mystic and shaolin atmosphere
of the time, I also miss that a lot on the recent titles.

The lore here tells the basics of a massive universe that will be formed in the future, it works for the game, already giving the characters personality and personal goals, and their endings are also alright. (Shout out to Raiden's ending epic last catchphrase: "Have a nice day")

Reptile as secret character was a great addition, although seemed to be a pretty rushed feature, it was nice to have something to have kids discussing about and trying to trigger the hidden battle, that's a pretty missed culture on modern gaming.

Difficulty will get on your nerves a lot of times, opponents will instantly unfairly react to your inputs, and oddly, this will happen at random times, regardless of the selected difficulty, but I cannot complain that much, knowing what awaits me at the next adventure.

When it comes to Final Fantasy VII, I think there tends to be a general fixation on Midgar as a centralized point of identity for the game. And while I do think it's one of the best opening segments in maybe any videogame, what makes it work so well in the grand scheme of things is just how introspective the rest of the game feels when juxtaposed to its explosive sense of grandiosity.

Final Fantasy VII's globe trotting adventure isn't primarily defined by it's sense for theatrics, but by it's mellow tone and somber sensibilities. The towns you come across are oftentimes humble and restrained, carefully crafted with precision point environmental design and delicate cinematography. There's a tender sense of balance to found throughout the whole affair, as it seeks to comfort you just as often as it alienates you. That push-and-pull dynamic it shares with the player is such a key focal point as to what make the worlds of VII and VIII feel so utterly compelling to me, and I can't help but feel that the unquestioned contrast between the science and fantasy elements plays a major factor in how sheerly effective that relationship it is.

Aerith's fate is something I'll never forget, not just because of the effective dramatization found within that one moment, but because of how silent and truly felt her absence is across the rest of the game. A lot of people give this game grief for putting the snowboarding segment not even like twenty minutes later, but the fact that the game just moves on afterwards without dwelling on itself too hard is exactly what I think makes it brilliant. Final Fantasy VII allows its punctual moments to breathe and sink skin deep, and it knows that no amount of self indulgent dialogue commemorating Aerith would ever hit as hard as opening the party screen just to see a missing slot there.

Cloud might not be the person he says he is, but what he becomes through learning to open his heart to other people and show compassion makes him more of a hero than any mere SOLDIER could ever hope to be. He never has any major transformation in regards to physicality and utility, he doesn't have to. Just as he doesn't need to be told by someone that he's finally enough, he always was.

For every magnificent setpiece Final Fantasy VII has, there's a slew of soft spoken moments of beauty that truly make this game what it is, even up to its final moments. It ends the same way it began, a friendly face amidst a writhing future of uncertainty. That faint shimmer of hope shining just as bright as it always has.