1994
I'm a Streets of Rage 3 apologist (it has a kangaroo), but after repeatedly being told the unbastardized Bare Knuckle III is the superior version in every way, I figured I had to give it a try. As it happens my repro guy wholesaler of legitimate Sega products happened to have an English patched version of the game. It even lights up! Like, really bright. Looks like the cart is reaching criticality in my Genesis.
I tried to replay a bit of Streets of Rage 3 so I could have a direct point of comparison between the two versions, and some differences were immediately apparent. Take Ash, for example. He's a mini-boss appearing in the first level of Bare Knuckle III that was cut from Streets of Rage 3 due to being an offensive leather daddy stereotype. At least that's the reason that's been given and repeated for years, and I can certainly see how it holds water as Ash does read like the butt of a joke.
There's a multitude of other differences both big and small, but the majority manifest in tweaks to difficulty balancing. Bare Knuckle III seems easier overall and much faster compared to its American counterpart, which was so difficult I could only push through it with a second player and a generous amount of save states. Comparatively, Bare Knuckle III took me one credit and about 45 minutes with the majority of my deaths being to the bulldozer, which I forgot I could push back with my fists - my bare knuckles as it were. That's really on me, and even with one measly life left, I was still able to complete the rest of the game. It's just a way smoother experience overall and makes it a lot harder to recommend Streets of Rage 3 to anyone who wants to play through the trilogy.
Unfortunately, I had to forcefully remove the Bare Knuckle III cart with my bare hands before it vaporized us all, exposing me to over a 1,000 rads. It won't be much longer now before radiation poisoning ravages my body. Please take a piece of chalk and mark where you're standing. Farewell.
I tried to replay a bit of Streets of Rage 3 so I could have a direct point of comparison between the two versions, and some differences were immediately apparent. Take Ash, for example. He's a mini-boss appearing in the first level of Bare Knuckle III that was cut from Streets of Rage 3 due to being an offensive leather daddy stereotype. At least that's the reason that's been given and repeated for years, and I can certainly see how it holds water as Ash does read like the butt of a joke.
There's a multitude of other differences both big and small, but the majority manifest in tweaks to difficulty balancing. Bare Knuckle III seems easier overall and much faster compared to its American counterpart, which was so difficult I could only push through it with a second player and a generous amount of save states. Comparatively, Bare Knuckle III took me one credit and about 45 minutes with the majority of my deaths being to the bulldozer, which I forgot I could push back with my fists - my bare knuckles as it were. That's really on me, and even with one measly life left, I was still able to complete the rest of the game. It's just a way smoother experience overall and makes it a lot harder to recommend Streets of Rage 3 to anyone who wants to play through the trilogy.
Unfortunately, I had to forcefully remove the Bare Knuckle III cart with my bare hands before it vaporized us all, exposing me to over a 1,000 rads. It won't be much longer now before radiation poisoning ravages my body. Please take a piece of chalk and mark where you're standing. Farewell.
Played as part of the Sonic Gems collection for the Nintendo GameCube.
I can feel the Game Gear's hold on me loosening, which means it's almost time to get back to playing Sonic games I enjoy. Before I do, though, I need to talk about Sonic Triple Trouble, arguably the best Sonic game on the handheld. I think I might like the quaintness of the original Sonic the Hedgehog a little bit more, but that game doesn't haveFang the Sniper Nack the Weasel, so I can see why everyone gravitates towards this one.
Remember in the Archie comics how Nack had a sister named Nicolette - you know, like to play on "nick-nack" - who was basically just Nack with curves? What a stupid comic. I hope it was one of the designs Ken Penders took Archie to court over and that judge had to look at a picture of Nicollete and just like, mentally process it.
They could've left it at Nack and simply had him serve as Sonic's main rival, but Sega clearly wanted to go big with Triple Trouble, so Knuckles is here, too. Once again he's triggering traps, punting Sonic from zone to zone, and laughing his smug head off the whole time. Dude loves being a heel. It's obvious the intent here was to approach Triple Trouble as the Game Gear equivalent of Sonic the Hedgehog 3, though much of the smoothness and spectacle of that game gets caught in the filter. Zones are bigger and more complex than previous Game Gear Sonic games, and level gimmicks feel much more organic, but familiar issues like slowdown and screen crunch really drag the whole experience down. I must sound like a broken record at this point, but the key metric by which I seem to be judging all of these games is how much screen crunch affects the flow of gameplay. Though the severity varies between each title, it's an undeniable issue in all of them.
Triple Trouble is definitely a case where ambition clashes against limitations, and though the end result is a game that's pretty good for what it is, it suffers in ways that are difficult to ignore. I think that's what made Triple Trouble the perfect candidate for a 16-bit remake. Being modeled after Sonic the Hedgehog 3 allowed the remake to feel like a spiritual and mechanical successor to that game, but those qualities are baked into the original and are only encumbered by the hardware.
While it may only be a high note because of the impressively low bar set by the Game Gear's dire software library, it's absolutely the one Sonic should've gone out on. Unfortunately, it was not, which means I have to suffer through Sonic Blast in the very near future.
I can feel the Game Gear's hold on me loosening, which means it's almost time to get back to playing Sonic games I enjoy. Before I do, though, I need to talk about Sonic Triple Trouble, arguably the best Sonic game on the handheld. I think I might like the quaintness of the original Sonic the Hedgehog a little bit more, but that game doesn't have
Remember in the Archie comics how Nack had a sister named Nicolette - you know, like to play on "nick-nack" - who was basically just Nack with curves? What a stupid comic. I hope it was one of the designs Ken Penders took Archie to court over and that judge had to look at a picture of Nicollete and just like, mentally process it.
They could've left it at Nack and simply had him serve as Sonic's main rival, but Sega clearly wanted to go big with Triple Trouble, so Knuckles is here, too. Once again he's triggering traps, punting Sonic from zone to zone, and laughing his smug head off the whole time. Dude loves being a heel. It's obvious the intent here was to approach Triple Trouble as the Game Gear equivalent of Sonic the Hedgehog 3, though much of the smoothness and spectacle of that game gets caught in the filter. Zones are bigger and more complex than previous Game Gear Sonic games, and level gimmicks feel much more organic, but familiar issues like slowdown and screen crunch really drag the whole experience down. I must sound like a broken record at this point, but the key metric by which I seem to be judging all of these games is how much screen crunch affects the flow of gameplay. Though the severity varies between each title, it's an undeniable issue in all of them.
Triple Trouble is definitely a case where ambition clashes against limitations, and though the end result is a game that's pretty good for what it is, it suffers in ways that are difficult to ignore. I think that's what made Triple Trouble the perfect candidate for a 16-bit remake. Being modeled after Sonic the Hedgehog 3 allowed the remake to feel like a spiritual and mechanical successor to that game, but those qualities are baked into the original and are only encumbered by the hardware.
While it may only be a high note because of the impressively low bar set by the Game Gear's dire software library, it's absolutely the one Sonic should've gone out on. Unfortunately, it was not, which means I have to suffer through Sonic Blast in the very near future.
1995
Played as part of the Sonic Gems Collection for the Nintendo GameCube.
How do you improve upon a game whose most notable quality is that it's a surprisingly competent arcade racer on bad hardware? By making the sequel Mario Kart, baby! Sonic can no longer simply drift his way to victory, he must throw bombs and take dudes out. Look at Dr. Robotnik over there getting Rusty Wallaced - he will never recover from that!
Sonic Drift 2 still controls like the first game, even though you must now concern yourself with picking up bombs, boosts and springs to get ahead of your rivals, and while I can definitely understand the inclusion of Mario Kart styled power-ups as being a negative to those who may prefer the purity of an arcade racer, I personally found it added more character. This stronger emphasis on kart combat does fall apart somewhat with the inclusion of character-specific abilities, which can be activated by spending a few power rings... Unless you're the computer, who does not need to abide by such a rule and can spam them freely. Tails' ability allows him to hop turns and this makes him a monster. I would also prefer it if Drift 2 didn't take inspiration from Mario Kart's rubberbanding but, oh well.
As frustrating as the AI's blatant cheating may be, the inclusion of abilities does help diversify the roster beyond simple metrics like handling and acceleration, and the addition of Knuckles, Nack and Metal Sonic as well as a significant increase to the overall number of tracks gives Drift 2 far more variety than its predecessor. There are also a bunch of tracks that are more conceptual in nature. Rainy Savannah takes place during a thunderstorm that occasionally flashes the screen to obstruct your view of the course, Quake Cave is set in a tunnel that is being shaken apart, and Ice Cap features half-pipe turns that let you grab air to leap over your opponents. My personal favorite, Emerald Ocean, finds an especially goofy compromise to making whole new sprites of the cast in boats by instead dropping their carts directly on top of the ocean and having them drive so fast that they don't get pulled underwater. If you slow down even a little bit you wipe out. It's so stupid, I kinda love it.
I also have to compliment Drift 2's performance. It plays pretty damn good. Sprite scrolling is buttery smooth, which makes it easy to negotiate turns and creates a satisfying sense of speed and distance. I've already made it abundantly clear that I don't think highly of the Game Gear, so "it's a miracle this game is so readable" is a bit of a back-handed compliment, I know, but it is nonetheless a good thing that botched turns and collisions felt like a me problem and not a consequence of the game running poorly.
Sonic Triple Trouble might be the best Sonic game on the platform that's actually trying to be a proper Sonic game, but insofar as games with the Sonic branding, I gotta go with Drift 2. Also, shoutouts to Amy's podium sprite which makes her look like she's just seen a dead body.
How do you improve upon a game whose most notable quality is that it's a surprisingly competent arcade racer on bad hardware? By making the sequel Mario Kart, baby! Sonic can no longer simply drift his way to victory, he must throw bombs and take dudes out. Look at Dr. Robotnik over there getting Rusty Wallaced - he will never recover from that!
Sonic Drift 2 still controls like the first game, even though you must now concern yourself with picking up bombs, boosts and springs to get ahead of your rivals, and while I can definitely understand the inclusion of Mario Kart styled power-ups as being a negative to those who may prefer the purity of an arcade racer, I personally found it added more character. This stronger emphasis on kart combat does fall apart somewhat with the inclusion of character-specific abilities, which can be activated by spending a few power rings... Unless you're the computer, who does not need to abide by such a rule and can spam them freely. Tails' ability allows him to hop turns and this makes him a monster. I would also prefer it if Drift 2 didn't take inspiration from Mario Kart's rubberbanding but, oh well.
As frustrating as the AI's blatant cheating may be, the inclusion of abilities does help diversify the roster beyond simple metrics like handling and acceleration, and the addition of Knuckles, Nack and Metal Sonic as well as a significant increase to the overall number of tracks gives Drift 2 far more variety than its predecessor. There are also a bunch of tracks that are more conceptual in nature. Rainy Savannah takes place during a thunderstorm that occasionally flashes the screen to obstruct your view of the course, Quake Cave is set in a tunnel that is being shaken apart, and Ice Cap features half-pipe turns that let you grab air to leap over your opponents. My personal favorite, Emerald Ocean, finds an especially goofy compromise to making whole new sprites of the cast in boats by instead dropping their carts directly on top of the ocean and having them drive so fast that they don't get pulled underwater. If you slow down even a little bit you wipe out. It's so stupid, I kinda love it.
I also have to compliment Drift 2's performance. It plays pretty damn good. Sprite scrolling is buttery smooth, which makes it easy to negotiate turns and creates a satisfying sense of speed and distance. I've already made it abundantly clear that I don't think highly of the Game Gear, so "it's a miracle this game is so readable" is a bit of a back-handed compliment, I know, but it is nonetheless a good thing that botched turns and collisions felt like a me problem and not a consequence of the game running poorly.
Sonic Triple Trouble might be the best Sonic game on the platform that's actually trying to be a proper Sonic game, but insofar as games with the Sonic branding, I gotta go with Drift 2. Also, shoutouts to Amy's podium sprite which makes her look like she's just seen a dead body.
As much as I love mecha, I've never really sat down and given any of the Armored Core games a fair shot. My experience with them has been pretty limited, mostly amounting to screwing around with the AC customization in Armored Core 2 on a friend's save nearly 20 years ago. I probably put a good ten to twenty minutes into the actual gameplay against three to four hours of meticulously dialing in the parts on my AC. Gunpla Armored Core is freedom, truly.
So Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon has presented me with an opportunity to finally dive into one of these games and (hopefully) develop a greater appreciation for what they're going for. The good news is that Armored Core VI is pretty welcoming to new players. I had no problem sinking right in, and the rate at which new weaponry, parts, and features are dolled out felt steady and deliberate... At least for a while. The way your AC glides about as it effortlessly takes out cannon-fodder feels great, and for the first few hours I basically ran with a build that tried to mimic the Kampher from Mobile Suit Gundam: War in the Pocket (an excellent Christmas OVA that pairs very well with hamburger.) The early game is very comfortable and when I did finally start hitting a wall it felt less like I was missing something fundamental so much as the game was trying urging me to graduate to more advanced techniques or engage with mechanics more seriously. I'm talking about Balteus. Balteus would like it if you changed your loadout, maybe stop using ballistics for a bit.
An important lesson that Balteus taught me was that bosses, enemy ACs, and even whole missions are more suited to certain loadouts, and that diversity is the key to success in Armored Core VI... And then Dual Zimmerman shotguns and Songbird missile pods taught me that previous lesson is a load of crap.
For as deep as customization can get in Armored Core VI, the quality of parts and the amount of variety in the shop drops off precipitously. As soon as they become available (around mission 14), double Zimmermans in concert with Songbird missiles trivializes the game and remains a viable build until credits roll. Any attempt to swap them out for something different came with such a noticeable drop-off in damage output as to feel uncomfortable, and the same was true for AC components like generators; the Ming-Teng really is the best bang for your COAM, and once you settle on short, medium, or long range there's really no reason to swap out computer boards. There are two sets of spider-legs you can buy and about as many arms with halfway decent shot tracking.
I kept checking the shop every time it updated hoping to find something that was better, but it never came. When all the best options are available so early, it's hard not to feel like you're boxed in, and AC6 simply does not do or provide enough in the mid-to-late game to keep mech customization engaging. The only other game in recent memory that has a faster "time until the game's broke" moment is Shin Megami Tensei V and boy is it close.
Despite this, the mission-to-mission gameplay in AC6 is still pretty damn good, and side content like the arena is pretty enjoyable. Fights against NPC AC pilots are a lot of fun and I really love the little lore dumps you get on each one. The unmanned C-weapons that serve as the game's true boss encounters, however, are not nearly as good and at times feel like a weird carry-over from the Souls series (Ice Worm really is yet another Storm Ruler boss.) My general weariness for stagger meters no doubt left me predisposed to disliking these encounters, but I don't think AC6's implementation of the mechanic is a particularly strong one. Bosses and ACs only stagger for two or three seconds before getting up and continuing their attack patterns, so it really only serves as a sort of health bar for shielding that must be plucked away at in order to do Real Damage. Stagger meters largely exist to pad out boss fights, but in most games, actually breaking the enemy's guard comes with some oomph that makes the system feel satisfying. Armored Core VI doesn't have that, so it just feels like it's there to waste my time. Now we know what "C" stands for... Carelessly designed.
The characters who you take on jobs for and who act as your mission support are all pretty great, and the story itself takes some interesting twists turns, even if the impersonal nature of how it's told at times left me a bit confused, though not so much so that I wasn't able to get my bearings. By the time I reached the last chapter and was confronted with a crucial end-game decision, I actually found it a bit hard to betray a particular character and avoid an unquestionably bad ending because I just liked them that much. Handler Waltuh is well written and affable to the point that my girlfriend's (you haven't met her, she lives in my head) occasional discontent and jealousy over him became a fun dynamic where it otherwise could've strictly sown doubt about who to trust. Shoutouts to Snail's smug ass and Gun 6's over-the-top cowboy/space marine persona. The corporations war over coral - a precious resource on a dying planet that they each want to drain for their own gain - and the Rubicon Liberation Front's efforts to push them out of the system would not be nearly as captivating were it not for the quality of Armored Core VI's cast of characters.
At its best, Armored Core VI let me play out my fantasies of piloting a powerful murder mech, taking out grunts and going toe-to-toe with other ace pilots. It's unfortunate that some poor balancing and lackluster boss fights got in the way of this being a truly great experience, but I still had fun with it overall. About as good as Sonic Drift 2 but not quite as good as McDonald's Treasure Island Adventure. Just a solid 3.5/5.
So Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon has presented me with an opportunity to finally dive into one of these games and (hopefully) develop a greater appreciation for what they're going for. The good news is that Armored Core VI is pretty welcoming to new players. I had no problem sinking right in, and the rate at which new weaponry, parts, and features are dolled out felt steady and deliberate... At least for a while. The way your AC glides about as it effortlessly takes out cannon-fodder feels great, and for the first few hours I basically ran with a build that tried to mimic the Kampher from Mobile Suit Gundam: War in the Pocket (an excellent Christmas OVA that pairs very well with hamburger.) The early game is very comfortable and when I did finally start hitting a wall it felt less like I was missing something fundamental so much as the game was trying urging me to graduate to more advanced techniques or engage with mechanics more seriously. I'm talking about Balteus. Balteus would like it if you changed your loadout, maybe stop using ballistics for a bit.
An important lesson that Balteus taught me was that bosses, enemy ACs, and even whole missions are more suited to certain loadouts, and that diversity is the key to success in Armored Core VI... And then Dual Zimmerman shotguns and Songbird missile pods taught me that previous lesson is a load of crap.
For as deep as customization can get in Armored Core VI, the quality of parts and the amount of variety in the shop drops off precipitously. As soon as they become available (around mission 14), double Zimmermans in concert with Songbird missiles trivializes the game and remains a viable build until credits roll. Any attempt to swap them out for something different came with such a noticeable drop-off in damage output as to feel uncomfortable, and the same was true for AC components like generators; the Ming-Teng really is the best bang for your COAM, and once you settle on short, medium, or long range there's really no reason to swap out computer boards. There are two sets of spider-legs you can buy and about as many arms with halfway decent shot tracking.
I kept checking the shop every time it updated hoping to find something that was better, but it never came. When all the best options are available so early, it's hard not to feel like you're boxed in, and AC6 simply does not do or provide enough in the mid-to-late game to keep mech customization engaging. The only other game in recent memory that has a faster "time until the game's broke" moment is Shin Megami Tensei V and boy is it close.
Despite this, the mission-to-mission gameplay in AC6 is still pretty damn good, and side content like the arena is pretty enjoyable. Fights against NPC AC pilots are a lot of fun and I really love the little lore dumps you get on each one. The unmanned C-weapons that serve as the game's true boss encounters, however, are not nearly as good and at times feel like a weird carry-over from the Souls series (Ice Worm really is yet another Storm Ruler boss.) My general weariness for stagger meters no doubt left me predisposed to disliking these encounters, but I don't think AC6's implementation of the mechanic is a particularly strong one. Bosses and ACs only stagger for two or three seconds before getting up and continuing their attack patterns, so it really only serves as a sort of health bar for shielding that must be plucked away at in order to do Real Damage. Stagger meters largely exist to pad out boss fights, but in most games, actually breaking the enemy's guard comes with some oomph that makes the system feel satisfying. Armored Core VI doesn't have that, so it just feels like it's there to waste my time. Now we know what "C" stands for... Carelessly designed.
The characters who you take on jobs for and who act as your mission support are all pretty great, and the story itself takes some interesting twists turns, even if the impersonal nature of how it's told at times left me a bit confused, though not so much so that I wasn't able to get my bearings. By the time I reached the last chapter and was confronted with a crucial end-game decision, I actually found it a bit hard to betray a particular character and avoid an unquestionably bad ending because I just liked them that much. Handler Waltuh is well written and affable to the point that my girlfriend's (you haven't met her, she lives in my head) occasional discontent and jealousy over him became a fun dynamic where it otherwise could've strictly sown doubt about who to trust. Shoutouts to Snail's smug ass and Gun 6's over-the-top cowboy/space marine persona. The corporations war over coral - a precious resource on a dying planet that they each want to drain for their own gain - and the Rubicon Liberation Front's efforts to push them out of the system would not be nearly as captivating were it not for the quality of Armored Core VI's cast of characters.
At its best, Armored Core VI let me play out my fantasies of piloting a powerful murder mech, taking out grunts and going toe-to-toe with other ace pilots. It's unfortunate that some poor balancing and lackluster boss fights got in the way of this being a truly great experience, but I still had fun with it overall. About as good as Sonic Drift 2 but not quite as good as McDonald's Treasure Island Adventure. Just a solid 3.5/5.
2021
"Remember to limit your gaming to 10 hours per day."
Do you want to play a game featuring long discussions on Takeshi Miike's body of work, no less than 15 late title cards, and a protagonist who frequently enters into a "fuckhead" fugue state? No More Heroes 3 is the game for you!
The last time I picked up one of these was way back in 2010 when Desperate Struggle was released. It's been a while, but now that No More Heroes 3 has made it off the Switch and onto a proper video game console (and after hitting 30$ for the limited edition...), now seemed like a pretty good time to jump back into Santa Destroy and see what Travis and the gang have been up to. Only I don't recognize like, most of these characters. Oh, oops, I didn't play Travis Strikes Again! Oh well, nobody else did either.
It's fine, though. No More Heroes 3 is so bizarre, so disjointed, and slaps so much of Suda51's charm that jumping in and letting it all wash over you is still a good time. In fact, it reminds me of something I used to do called "Anime Roulette," where I'd throw on a long running anime series and jump into a random episode, no context. Sometimes it's nice relinquishing all knowledge you might have about something and letting it take you on a ride, and No More Heroes is pretty well suited to that. Maybe it helps too that it's (intentional?) poor localization makes dialog feel off-kilter, stilted, and a bit hard to follow. That might sound like a negative, but it's really not. If No More Heroes was trying to be anything other than itself, I probably wouldn't like it as much. Especially considering the actual gameplay can be kinda crummy!
I never really cared for the way these games segment their boss battles. I get that the goofy little odd jobs you pick up are part of the No More Heroes' sense of humor, and there's some pretty good ones here (like a toilet unclogging minigame that is inexplicably livestreamed, typically to a dismal audience of two or three people), but by about the middle of the game repeating the same jobs over and over again to satisfy the ever-growing monetary requirement starts to drag. No More Heroes 3 jerks you around between long stretches of tedium and flashes of excitement when you're finally able to take on the next member of Fu's gang of violent space superheroes.
Boss fights were always the real meat of these games anyway, with all the odd-job junk serving as mechanical filler. The quality of the bosses in No More Heroes 3 definitely makes up for how dull some of the interstitial gameplay can be, and outside of only one fight, I thought all of them were pretty strong, with my favorites being Velvet Chair Girl and Sonic Juice. I also love the touch of having each chapter end on an anime outro and a fake Netflix "next episode" countdown screen, and seeing the rankings update to reflect Travis' long climb towards number 1 is satisfying.
BUT IS IT A SUMMAH GAME?
You thought I was done with this? Did you really think I was gonna let the Summah end with fucking Mario Sunshine!? Guess again! You've been had!
Santa Destroy is set in California, and you know what comes to mind when I think of California? That's right: Summah! I think of reaching into a bush made brittle by the Summah heat and pulling out a scorpion, putting him in my pocket and trading him in to street vendors for money. I think about taking hard 90 degree turns in my Not Legally Actionable Akira motorcycle, colliding with a small fence and flying thirty feet forward like a missile. I think about amassing a large contingent of stray cats who want to cool off with me in that sweet Summah AC [Editor's note: air conditioning in California is a hoax.]
So, the question must be asked: Is No More Heroes 3 a Summah game? Well, there's only one way to tell: subjecting it to one final battery of Summah tests, of course. This included now tired and true testing methods like submerging the disc in various substances, exposing it to direct sunlight, and playing Beach Boys songs on loop for 24 uninterrupted hours with my boombox that's got the one bad speaker. I also ground the disc and used it in a smoothie to judge it on flavor and freshness. So, how did No More Heroes 3 perform?
Well, I'm glad to say No More Heroes 3 earned a 7.7 on the Summah Index Scale, which means it's Certified Summah. It stood up to fluid testing, and through the smoothie taste test it was determined it to have notes of coconut and lime - a classic Summah combination. The only area in which it underperformed was on the Beach Boys Endurance Test. It couldn't even make it through Kokomo before exploding.
And with that, the 2023 Summah Games series has reached its conclusion. I now return to the Earth, to my long slumber, but mark my words... There are Summah games yet to be found, to be tested and shared with all of you. I'll see you again next June and together we'll once against have us a Summah!
Do you want to play a game featuring long discussions on Takeshi Miike's body of work, no less than 15 late title cards, and a protagonist who frequently enters into a "fuckhead" fugue state? No More Heroes 3 is the game for you!
The last time I picked up one of these was way back in 2010 when Desperate Struggle was released. It's been a while, but now that No More Heroes 3 has made it off the Switch and onto a proper video game console (and after hitting 30$ for the limited edition...), now seemed like a pretty good time to jump back into Santa Destroy and see what Travis and the gang have been up to. Only I don't recognize like, most of these characters. Oh, oops, I didn't play Travis Strikes Again! Oh well, nobody else did either.
It's fine, though. No More Heroes 3 is so bizarre, so disjointed, and slaps so much of Suda51's charm that jumping in and letting it all wash over you is still a good time. In fact, it reminds me of something I used to do called "Anime Roulette," where I'd throw on a long running anime series and jump into a random episode, no context. Sometimes it's nice relinquishing all knowledge you might have about something and letting it take you on a ride, and No More Heroes is pretty well suited to that. Maybe it helps too that it's (intentional?) poor localization makes dialog feel off-kilter, stilted, and a bit hard to follow. That might sound like a negative, but it's really not. If No More Heroes was trying to be anything other than itself, I probably wouldn't like it as much. Especially considering the actual gameplay can be kinda crummy!
I never really cared for the way these games segment their boss battles. I get that the goofy little odd jobs you pick up are part of the No More Heroes' sense of humor, and there's some pretty good ones here (like a toilet unclogging minigame that is inexplicably livestreamed, typically to a dismal audience of two or three people), but by about the middle of the game repeating the same jobs over and over again to satisfy the ever-growing monetary requirement starts to drag. No More Heroes 3 jerks you around between long stretches of tedium and flashes of excitement when you're finally able to take on the next member of Fu's gang of violent space superheroes.
Boss fights were always the real meat of these games anyway, with all the odd-job junk serving as mechanical filler. The quality of the bosses in No More Heroes 3 definitely makes up for how dull some of the interstitial gameplay can be, and outside of only one fight, I thought all of them were pretty strong, with my favorites being Velvet Chair Girl and Sonic Juice. I also love the touch of having each chapter end on an anime outro and a fake Netflix "next episode" countdown screen, and seeing the rankings update to reflect Travis' long climb towards number 1 is satisfying.
BUT IS IT A SUMMAH GAME?
You thought I was done with this? Did you really think I was gonna let the Summah end with fucking Mario Sunshine!? Guess again! You've been had!
Santa Destroy is set in California, and you know what comes to mind when I think of California? That's right: Summah! I think of reaching into a bush made brittle by the Summah heat and pulling out a scorpion, putting him in my pocket and trading him in to street vendors for money. I think about taking hard 90 degree turns in my Not Legally Actionable Akira motorcycle, colliding with a small fence and flying thirty feet forward like a missile. I think about amassing a large contingent of stray cats who want to cool off with me in that sweet Summah AC [Editor's note: air conditioning in California is a hoax.]
So, the question must be asked: Is No More Heroes 3 a Summah game? Well, there's only one way to tell: subjecting it to one final battery of Summah tests, of course. This included now tired and true testing methods like submerging the disc in various substances, exposing it to direct sunlight, and playing Beach Boys songs on loop for 24 uninterrupted hours with my boombox that's got the one bad speaker. I also ground the disc and used it in a smoothie to judge it on flavor and freshness. So, how did No More Heroes 3 perform?
Well, I'm glad to say No More Heroes 3 earned a 7.7 on the Summah Index Scale, which means it's Certified Summah. It stood up to fluid testing, and through the smoothie taste test it was determined it to have notes of coconut and lime - a classic Summah combination. The only area in which it underperformed was on the Beach Boys Endurance Test. It couldn't even make it through Kokomo before exploding.
And with that, the 2023 Summah Games series has reached its conclusion. I now return to the Earth, to my long slumber, but mark my words... There are Summah games yet to be found, to be tested and shared with all of you. I'll see you again next June and together we'll once against have us a Summah!
2023
P R E C I O U S T H I N G
I've already expressed my love for Jet Set Radio's unique style and gameplay in my review for Jet Set Radio Future, wherein I tied that game's counter-culture edge and major theme of self-expression to the key tenants of hip hop: MCing, rapping, break dancing, graffiti, and knowledge. There is, however, an unspoken sixth pillar of hip hop culture that is known to few yet is every bit as institutional as the rest - big fat asses. "Let me see you shake that ass, ass, ass, ass." Not even Percy Bysshe Shelley himself could write something so radical yet soulful.
It's not worth trying to side-step the comparisons to Jet Set Radio given how proudly Bomb Rush Cyberfunk wears its inspirations, and really, some of Bomb Rush's best and worst qualities can be attributed either to what it takes or what it decides to leave behind. The most obvious point of comparison is its graphics, which perfectly captures the same blocky cel-shaded style of its Dreamcast and Xbox forbearers. There's been a number of would-be imitators over the year, but Team Reptile is so clued into what makes this style work. Not just in their use of color and lighting, or in the low-poly nature of the character models, but even right down to the disparate clash of high- and low-quality textures. It all feels so authentic that you might mistake Bomb Rush for a legitimate long-lost Jet Set Radio Future 2 at a glance.
There are some excellent character designs here as well, some of which, like Solace and The Franks, would feel perfectly at home in a Jet Set Radio game, while others like Bel and Red are striking enough to give Bomb Rush something unique to hang its hat on. I really love Vinyl's design, specifically. After playing a couple chapters, I hopped on a call with Larry Davis and speculated that she'd join your crew because her design screams "playable character," or as I put it "Damn, girl, you got a playable character body."
However, Bomb Rush's design is at times faithful to a fault. Poor draw distancing seems a stylistic choice here where it was a compromise JSR had to make given the limitations of early 2000s hardware and its rendering power. Bomb Rush also features larger, more open spaces, and not being able to assess points of interest from a distance harms level readability. It can also make some locations feel uninhabited until you're close enough for NPCs to pop in, like in the very spacious Brink Terminal or Mataan - obvious stand-ins for Shibuya Terminal and Pharaoh Park.
But one area where Bomb Rush actually differentiates itself from Jet Set Radio is in its story - which there is a surprising amount of. You start the game as Faux, a renown "writer" who agrees to help the Bomb Rush crew go "all city..." Or that's the deal until his head gets cut off. It's fine, though. Tryce - Bomb Rush's leader - quickly slaps a robot head onto Faux's body. Problem solved! This eventually turns out to be a sort of Reverse DIO situation, and where the story goes with it is actually pretty interesting. I actually found myself really getting into the story in a way I did not in Jet Set Radio, which itself is framed more as a documentary, simply narrating beats in a struggle between Tokyo-to's gangs and the Rokaku group, as if retelling a story rather than actively building one.
The only thing it's lacking is a true Professor K figure to tie everything together, a weird omission considering Bomb Rush's slavish faithfulness. It is also somewhat lacking in the same rebellious spirit as JSR by making the conflict between the various gangs and individual writers seeking "all city" status the focus. You aren't doing battle with a greedy corporation, and although you fight the police at numerous points throughout the story, their presence feels in service of the inter-gang struggle Red and the Bomb Rush crew find themselves caught in, always present yet somewhat out of focus. It's fine to go for something different, of course, but given how difficult it is to untangle Bomb Rush from Jet Set Radio, it's hard to feel like it's lacking a key piece of that game's spirit.
Hey, speaking of the cops, they're no damn fun to fight! Terrible, I know!
Combat plays out by mashing the same buttons you use to initiate tricks and visually resembles some strange cross between break-dancing and karate - it's like something Zach from Power Rangers would cook up. It's silly and fun to watch, but in practice it's pretty dull and too frequent, resulting in fits of starts and stops between skating and clunky combat. At several points in the story, even completing one tag will alert the police, triggering an intro cutscene followed by constant hounding from goons, attack helicopters, and turrets that try to tie you down. Though this system does feel better in-hand than Jet Set Radio Future's own dire combat, you could cut its frequency down by half and it would still feel like too much.
Dying in combat is also the only real fail-state that the game has. Missions play out in a fairly rigid structure: paint tags until the rival gang notices you, complete their challenges and build rep, fight the police, then go head-to-head in a point challenge under the dutiful watch of the Old Heads to claim your rival's territory. These challenges are all pretty easy, and even by the late game some of them feel like tutorials. The tagging system is very lenient too, the only way you can fail is by getting up and leaving the room to go get a sandwich. That said, I do think the combo system for tagging is novel and an engaging way to access your full library of tags without resorting to presets or pure randomization, and the tight structure of the game never feels stale thanks to the quality of Bomb Rush's level design. I only wish it was more challenging, but outside of combat the difficulty feels pretty stagnant.
The JSR games weren't perfect, either. There's plenty of faults in Future's performance and level design, and the original Jet Set Radio had its own issues with difficulty and structure. Being flawed but funky just means Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is following in its grandfather's footsteps, and I think it does such a fine job at capturing what made those games special that it feels like a worthy successor.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my hair done, get my nails done, get my hair done, get my nails done, get my hair done get my na
I've already expressed my love for Jet Set Radio's unique style and gameplay in my review for Jet Set Radio Future, wherein I tied that game's counter-culture edge and major theme of self-expression to the key tenants of hip hop: MCing, rapping, break dancing, graffiti, and knowledge. There is, however, an unspoken sixth pillar of hip hop culture that is known to few yet is every bit as institutional as the rest - big fat asses. "Let me see you shake that ass, ass, ass, ass." Not even Percy Bysshe Shelley himself could write something so radical yet soulful.
It's not worth trying to side-step the comparisons to Jet Set Radio given how proudly Bomb Rush Cyberfunk wears its inspirations, and really, some of Bomb Rush's best and worst qualities can be attributed either to what it takes or what it decides to leave behind. The most obvious point of comparison is its graphics, which perfectly captures the same blocky cel-shaded style of its Dreamcast and Xbox forbearers. There's been a number of would-be imitators over the year, but Team Reptile is so clued into what makes this style work. Not just in their use of color and lighting, or in the low-poly nature of the character models, but even right down to the disparate clash of high- and low-quality textures. It all feels so authentic that you might mistake Bomb Rush for a legitimate long-lost Jet Set Radio Future 2 at a glance.
There are some excellent character designs here as well, some of which, like Solace and The Franks, would feel perfectly at home in a Jet Set Radio game, while others like Bel and Red are striking enough to give Bomb Rush something unique to hang its hat on. I really love Vinyl's design, specifically. After playing a couple chapters, I hopped on a call with Larry Davis and speculated that she'd join your crew because her design screams "playable character," or as I put it "Damn, girl, you got a playable character body."
However, Bomb Rush's design is at times faithful to a fault. Poor draw distancing seems a stylistic choice here where it was a compromise JSR had to make given the limitations of early 2000s hardware and its rendering power. Bomb Rush also features larger, more open spaces, and not being able to assess points of interest from a distance harms level readability. It can also make some locations feel uninhabited until you're close enough for NPCs to pop in, like in the very spacious Brink Terminal or Mataan - obvious stand-ins for Shibuya Terminal and Pharaoh Park.
But one area where Bomb Rush actually differentiates itself from Jet Set Radio is in its story - which there is a surprising amount of. You start the game as Faux, a renown "writer" who agrees to help the Bomb Rush crew go "all city..." Or that's the deal until his head gets cut off. It's fine, though. Tryce - Bomb Rush's leader - quickly slaps a robot head onto Faux's body. Problem solved! This eventually turns out to be a sort of Reverse DIO situation, and where the story goes with it is actually pretty interesting. I actually found myself really getting into the story in a way I did not in Jet Set Radio, which itself is framed more as a documentary, simply narrating beats in a struggle between Tokyo-to's gangs and the Rokaku group, as if retelling a story rather than actively building one.
The only thing it's lacking is a true Professor K figure to tie everything together, a weird omission considering Bomb Rush's slavish faithfulness. It is also somewhat lacking in the same rebellious spirit as JSR by making the conflict between the various gangs and individual writers seeking "all city" status the focus. You aren't doing battle with a greedy corporation, and although you fight the police at numerous points throughout the story, their presence feels in service of the inter-gang struggle Red and the Bomb Rush crew find themselves caught in, always present yet somewhat out of focus. It's fine to go for something different, of course, but given how difficult it is to untangle Bomb Rush from Jet Set Radio, it's hard to feel like it's lacking a key piece of that game's spirit.
Hey, speaking of the cops, they're no damn fun to fight! Terrible, I know!
Combat plays out by mashing the same buttons you use to initiate tricks and visually resembles some strange cross between break-dancing and karate - it's like something Zach from Power Rangers would cook up. It's silly and fun to watch, but in practice it's pretty dull and too frequent, resulting in fits of starts and stops between skating and clunky combat. At several points in the story, even completing one tag will alert the police, triggering an intro cutscene followed by constant hounding from goons, attack helicopters, and turrets that try to tie you down. Though this system does feel better in-hand than Jet Set Radio Future's own dire combat, you could cut its frequency down by half and it would still feel like too much.
Dying in combat is also the only real fail-state that the game has. Missions play out in a fairly rigid structure: paint tags until the rival gang notices you, complete their challenges and build rep, fight the police, then go head-to-head in a point challenge under the dutiful watch of the Old Heads to claim your rival's territory. These challenges are all pretty easy, and even by the late game some of them feel like tutorials. The tagging system is very lenient too, the only way you can fail is by getting up and leaving the room to go get a sandwich. That said, I do think the combo system for tagging is novel and an engaging way to access your full library of tags without resorting to presets or pure randomization, and the tight structure of the game never feels stale thanks to the quality of Bomb Rush's level design. I only wish it was more challenging, but outside of combat the difficulty feels pretty stagnant.
The JSR games weren't perfect, either. There's plenty of faults in Future's performance and level design, and the original Jet Set Radio had its own issues with difficulty and structure. Being flawed but funky just means Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is following in its grandfather's footsteps, and I think it does such a fine job at capturing what made those games special that it feels like a worthy successor.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my hair done, get my nails done, get my hair done, get my nails done, get my hair done get my na
Played with FallenGrace.
Dimension Shellshock sends you - and god willing, several other players - through various arenas based on other Turtles properties, like a Comix Zone inspired take on the Mirage comics or 8-bit zones that are clearly nods to Manhattan Project and the Game Boy games. For someone suffering from TMNT brain rot (like me!), there's probably enough here to justify buying it for eight or ten bucks. Addicts like to make excuses for what they're doing, it just a fun quirk of theirs.
For everyone else, I'm not sure it's really worth even the inconvenience of reinstalling Shredder's Revenge. Survival mode is serviceable, but feels a bit sloppy and underbaked. During our first few runs, Grace and I were not given power-up prompts and so were left scratching our heads as to what stuff like an evil laughing face meant versus a canister of ooze with Bebop's mug on it, but even when not glitching out, some features and mechanics are not particularly intuitive and resulted in us asking what something did a bit too often.
Newcomers Usagi Yojimbo and my wife Karai are excellent, and similar to Sonic Mania Encore, feel more valuable than the mode they're packed with. The sprite art for both of these characters is fantastic, even if someone on the development team clearly had a preoccupation with Karai's ass. I do appreciate that her defeat sprite leaves her in the Peter Griffin death pose until everyone moves on to the next round, at least. The additional color palettes are also good, I especially like the Game Boy and NES ones, and it doesn't take that much effort to unlock a character's full swatch, though the leveling system does mean you'll likely want to stick with one or two characters if you want to make real progress in the actual game mode.
I still had a good time with it, but I can't help but feel this pseudo-roguelike survival mode could've been dialed in a bit more, and I think I would've much preferred new campaign content, especially if it went with the same dimension-hopping motif.
Dimension Shellshock sends you - and god willing, several other players - through various arenas based on other Turtles properties, like a Comix Zone inspired take on the Mirage comics or 8-bit zones that are clearly nods to Manhattan Project and the Game Boy games. For someone suffering from TMNT brain rot (like me!), there's probably enough here to justify buying it for eight or ten bucks. Addicts like to make excuses for what they're doing, it just a fun quirk of theirs.
For everyone else, I'm not sure it's really worth even the inconvenience of reinstalling Shredder's Revenge. Survival mode is serviceable, but feels a bit sloppy and underbaked. During our first few runs, Grace and I were not given power-up prompts and so were left scratching our heads as to what stuff like an evil laughing face meant versus a canister of ooze with Bebop's mug on it, but even when not glitching out, some features and mechanics are not particularly intuitive and resulted in us asking what something did a bit too often.
Newcomers Usagi Yojimbo and my wife Karai are excellent, and similar to Sonic Mania Encore, feel more valuable than the mode they're packed with. The sprite art for both of these characters is fantastic, even if someone on the development team clearly had a preoccupation with Karai's ass. I do appreciate that her defeat sprite leaves her in the Peter Griffin death pose until everyone moves on to the next round, at least. The additional color palettes are also good, I especially like the Game Boy and NES ones, and it doesn't take that much effort to unlock a character's full swatch, though the leveling system does mean you'll likely want to stick with one or two characters if you want to make real progress in the actual game mode.
I still had a good time with it, but I can't help but feel this pseudo-roguelike survival mode could've been dialed in a bit more, and I think I would've much preferred new campaign content, especially if it went with the same dimension-hopping motif.
1994
I bought a Super Famicom recently. Got a good deal, came with twelve games, and pretty much all the big ones you'd really want to have - Super Mario World, Tetris Battle Gaiden, the heavy hitters. It also came with a certain trilogy of funny monkey games, and while I don't like re-reviewing stuff I've logged, this isn't Donkey Kong Country... This is SUPER Donkey Kong.
Perhaps that's some unnecessary justification to talk about one of my favorite games again, but you must understand the significance of no longer needing to break into people's homes to play Donkey Kong Country. At last, the DKC Prowler's criminal career comes to a close, and a happy one no less as I can now play Donkey Kong Country at my leisure. My childhood dream of having a Super Nintendo right next to my Genesis - like all the spoiled brats of the 90s - has finally been fulfilled nearly 30 years later, and though my tour of service in the console wars ended when Sega bowed out of the hardware market, I feel I can now truly put old allegiances behind me and admit I fought that fight because I didn't have Donkey Kong.
Hyperbole aside, this last playthrough ofDonkey Kong Country Super Donkey Kong really did feel like closing the loop, even if I can't understand a single thing Funky Kong is trying to tell me when I visit his shop. It is a bit weird that the credits are all in English, including Cranky's boasts of beating the game with one life in under one hour, but Super Donkey Kong is easy enough to play despite the language barrier. Bounce on Kremlins and jump in barrels. I've done this all before and it feels just as good as it always has, perhaps even better. This might be due in part to the easier nature of the Japanese release, which adds a number of extra lives and makes other small tweaks to smooth out the difficulty.
Of course, playing it on real hardware for the first time since my hoodlum youth no doubt played a role in making this a special experience, too. I've found going through these old games the "legitimate" way and cutting the save state safety net often results in a greater feeling of engagement. Not that there's anything wrong with filling your quick save slots up and hammering through something. Any method is valid, but I have my preference. Likewise, Super Donkey Kong's unique graphical style doesn't hold up quite so well when viewed as raw pixels, but the smoothing effect of a CRT makes all the difference here. I already gave this a 4.5/5 and won't be updating my rating, but this last playthrough was a solid 5/5.
Cutting through the water on the back of Engaurde while the calming tones of Aquatic Ambience pipes through the aged speakers of my 100+ pound big boy Toshiba left me thoroughly drenched in nostalgia, and I don't even care. It's nice being able to play DKC this way once again, only with the added benefit of not needing to look over my shoulder.
Your boy finally got his Donkey Kong.
Perhaps that's some unnecessary justification to talk about one of my favorite games again, but you must understand the significance of no longer needing to break into people's homes to play Donkey Kong Country. At last, the DKC Prowler's criminal career comes to a close, and a happy one no less as I can now play Donkey Kong Country at my leisure. My childhood dream of having a Super Nintendo right next to my Genesis - like all the spoiled brats of the 90s - has finally been fulfilled nearly 30 years later, and though my tour of service in the console wars ended when Sega bowed out of the hardware market, I feel I can now truly put old allegiances behind me and admit I fought that fight because I didn't have Donkey Kong.
Hyperbole aside, this last playthrough of
Of course, playing it on real hardware for the first time since my hoodlum youth no doubt played a role in making this a special experience, too. I've found going through these old games the "legitimate" way and cutting the save state safety net often results in a greater feeling of engagement. Not that there's anything wrong with filling your quick save slots up and hammering through something. Any method is valid, but I have my preference. Likewise, Super Donkey Kong's unique graphical style doesn't hold up quite so well when viewed as raw pixels, but the smoothing effect of a CRT makes all the difference here. I already gave this a 4.5/5 and won't be updating my rating, but this last playthrough was a solid 5/5.
Cutting through the water on the back of Engaurde while the calming tones of Aquatic Ambience pipes through the aged speakers of my 100+ pound big boy Toshiba left me thoroughly drenched in nostalgia, and I don't even care. It's nice being able to play DKC this way once again, only with the added benefit of not needing to look over my shoulder.
Your boy finally got his Donkey Kong.
You probably don't need me to tell you this, but Sonic Spinball - a game that already plays poorly on the Genesis - is a disaster on the Game Gear.
I know this is the least shocking news ever, but this black brick that sucks down AA batteries like water isn't exactly the best piece of hardware for a video pinball game. The framerate is choppy which makes it irritating to navigate each table, Sonic has a tendency to flicker around all over the place after hitting bumpers, and the hitbox for flippers feels inconsistent. Yet again, this is a Game Gear Sonic game with a Master System equivalent, which I actually did not know until after I beat it. So, the usual asterisk applies here: the Master System version is probably better. Maybe.
Backhanded as this may sound, one thing I think Sonic Spinball for the Game Gear has going for it are its table designs, which are pretty good considering its limitations. Sure, there's some pretty egregious overuse of repeating layouts and gimmicks remain very simplistic throughout, but it's a Game Gear game, and I felt each table was intuitive enough to navigate. The problem is entirely in how good it feels to navigate them, and unfortunately 8-bit Spinball's technical shortcomings just make the whole experience aggravating.
Sonic Spinball was the last Sonic game released on the Master System, which is a pretty sad note to go out on. Unless you count the Brazilian port of Sonic Blast that hit the console in 1997, which is just tragic (it's not even considered a good port.) Kinda irrelevant since I'll have to play both games on the Game Gear anyway, but I just thought that was a neat fact.
I know this is the least shocking news ever, but this black brick that sucks down AA batteries like water isn't exactly the best piece of hardware for a video pinball game. The framerate is choppy which makes it irritating to navigate each table, Sonic has a tendency to flicker around all over the place after hitting bumpers, and the hitbox for flippers feels inconsistent. Yet again, this is a Game Gear Sonic game with a Master System equivalent, which I actually did not know until after I beat it. So, the usual asterisk applies here: the Master System version is probably better. Maybe.
Backhanded as this may sound, one thing I think Sonic Spinball for the Game Gear has going for it are its table designs, which are pretty good considering its limitations. Sure, there's some pretty egregious overuse of repeating layouts and gimmicks remain very simplistic throughout, but it's a Game Gear game, and I felt each table was intuitive enough to navigate. The problem is entirely in how good it feels to navigate them, and unfortunately 8-bit Spinball's technical shortcomings just make the whole experience aggravating.
Sonic Spinball was the last Sonic game released on the Master System, which is a pretty sad note to go out on. Unless you count the Brazilian port of Sonic Blast that hit the console in 1997, which is just tragic (it's not even considered a good port.) Kinda irrelevant since I'll have to play both games on the Game Gear anyway, but I just thought that was a neat fact.
I'm a silent operator, won't you please take my hand, I am so polite, I'm the Elevator (Action Returns) man.
Elevator Action Returns may open quietly, but the quick cuts between action, "EMERGENCY" warnings, and the game's cast of characters sets the pace perfectly from the second the Taito and Ving logos fade. It doesn't really let up from there, with the only real respite you'll find being the character select screen, which gives you a moment to pick between big dumb himbo action man Jad the Taff, pretty boy Kart Bradfield, and my personal pick - gun expertand shaman Edie Burret. Each character has their own strengths and weaknesses (as well as their own off-brand weapons, like the Glog-18 and Dessert Eagle), providing some versatility in who you pick besides aesthetics, though you won't need to strategize much given Elevator Action Returns' strong focus on reflexive gameplay. Hesitate or fail to scope out a floor - typically while engaged with enemies above or below - and you'll get your dome blown off like Leo in The Departed. Or eaten by dogs. Sometimes both! That's alright, though. I'm a dog lover, so I just hope I taste good.
There's not much here in terms of bespoke level gimmicks, but this works well for the type of game Elevator Action Returns is. By keeping it strictly focused on movement between levels and racing through dangerous corridors to diffuse bombs, Returns keeps the action moving at a steady clip, and that's pretty much what you want for an arcade game. That's not to say things don't get shaken up, but it usually comes in the form of big cinematic set pieces that don't impair the flow of gameplay. Each level is set in a wildly different location, like an airport terminal or an oil rig, which creates this sort of Die Hard feeling of being trapped in a terrorist-occupied location as a one-man army with zero regard for collateral damage.
Each level packs a ton of detail that would make it feel "alive" even if dudes weren't flying around on jetpacks and whole floors weren't spontaneously bursting into flames. Situational awareness and having a lay of the floors above and below you are critical to gameplay, so everything is pulled out to give the player a better sense of what's going on. Because of this, character sprites are fairly small, yet they animate so smoothly that that they aren't lacking in character. It's a great looking game not just in the arcade, but on the Saturn as well.
You can also unlock the original Elevator Action (or just unlock it with an Action Replay if you're like me), which creates a perfect linear comparison between the two games. It's kind of great how this goofy, rudimentary little shooter evolved into a pastiche of 80s and 90s action films and anime. Different eras of hardware and media no doubt influenced the design of each game, but to see them side-by-side is novel and a bit funny.
Thankfully, Elevator Action Returns: S-Tribute makes this game more accessible today than it has been, so there's no real need to dive into emulation unless you really want to save 12 bucks. I couldn't tell you with any first-hand authority if it's a good port, but Elevator Action Returns is such a fun game and a strong recommendation that I think you should get at it by any means.
Elevator Action Returns may open quietly, but the quick cuts between action, "EMERGENCY" warnings, and the game's cast of characters sets the pace perfectly from the second the Taito and Ving logos fade. It doesn't really let up from there, with the only real respite you'll find being the character select screen, which gives you a moment to pick between big dumb himbo action man Jad the Taff, pretty boy Kart Bradfield, and my personal pick - gun expert
There's not much here in terms of bespoke level gimmicks, but this works well for the type of game Elevator Action Returns is. By keeping it strictly focused on movement between levels and racing through dangerous corridors to diffuse bombs, Returns keeps the action moving at a steady clip, and that's pretty much what you want for an arcade game. That's not to say things don't get shaken up, but it usually comes in the form of big cinematic set pieces that don't impair the flow of gameplay. Each level is set in a wildly different location, like an airport terminal or an oil rig, which creates this sort of Die Hard feeling of being trapped in a terrorist-occupied location as a one-man army with zero regard for collateral damage.
Each level packs a ton of detail that would make it feel "alive" even if dudes weren't flying around on jetpacks and whole floors weren't spontaneously bursting into flames. Situational awareness and having a lay of the floors above and below you are critical to gameplay, so everything is pulled out to give the player a better sense of what's going on. Because of this, character sprites are fairly small, yet they animate so smoothly that that they aren't lacking in character. It's a great looking game not just in the arcade, but on the Saturn as well.
You can also unlock the original Elevator Action (or just unlock it with an Action Replay if you're like me), which creates a perfect linear comparison between the two games. It's kind of great how this goofy, rudimentary little shooter evolved into a pastiche of 80s and 90s action films and anime. Different eras of hardware and media no doubt influenced the design of each game, but to see them side-by-side is novel and a bit funny.
Thankfully, Elevator Action Returns: S-Tribute makes this game more accessible today than it has been, so there's no real need to dive into emulation unless you really want to save 12 bucks. I couldn't tell you with any first-hand authority if it's a good port, but Elevator Action Returns is such a fun game and a strong recommendation that I think you should get at it by any means.
2020
I never spent much time playing boomer shooters prior to 2022, but I think you could say I'm pretty well initiated by now. Playing Duke Nukem 3D and PowerSlave nearly back-to-back will do that to you, though Doom - a game I played for the first time last December - has unsurprisingly become the criterion against which I judge other games in the genre. If you asked me a few months ago whether it would be possible for any other boomer shooter to top it, I would've said it was possible but very difficult. Even Doom II, while great, didn't manage to connect with me in the same way as the original, partly due to the uneven nature of its maps, which at times were too labyrinthine and confounding. Sometimes I see Sandy Petersen in my dreams, laughing at me, mocking me.
"Design better levels!" I shout.
"No," he cackles as I dissolve into thousands of cockroaches. I wake up drenched in sweat and tears.
Needless to say, I was not expecting my benchmark to change less than a year after playing Doom, but Doom 64 is good. It's really good.
The switch to fully-3D environments adds so much to the Doom formula. Maps have a greater sense of physicality and scale, and progression feels more complex without ever becoming so obtuse as to require a guide. The puzzle-centric approach of some of Doom II's levels is made more coherent in here, and the ways in which the structure of your surroundings change - whether by pistons beating the ground to open a new path, darts flinging from walls to keep you moving, or the ground dropping out to confine you to a tighter space during a combat encounter - results in levels that are more actively hostile, but never in a way that slaps of being clumsy or mean-spirited.
The rendered nature of these levels also allows for some interesting lighting choices. The desolate UAC facilities that open the game and even Hell itself is characterized by sickly fluorescents and gaudy bright neons, and while Doom 64's lighting effects are of course very rudimentary, it is such a look. The lack of a proper hard rock Doom-ass Doom soundtrack in favor of more ambient music, wails, and demonic groans is another strong choice that helps give Doom 64 a more unique identity. Flipping switches and picking up keys introduces new waves of demons to rooms you and your super shotgun previously made safe just like in the last two games, but the constant growl of demons just beyond your surroundings produces an atmosphere where you know there's always something else out there waiting to throw a fireball at your face.
This version also contains The Lost Levels, which thankfully does not involve replaying the same tight platforming sequences over and over until I scream and get Mad For Real on a voice call. Rather, it's a small set of additional maps that bridges the narrative gap between Doom 64 and 2016's DOOM. If you didn't tell me that and just tacked them onto the end of Doom 64, I probably wouldn't know any better. Their design is so authentic to that of the game they're built off of that it just feels seamless. Romero's bonus episode for the original Doom, Sigil, showed that he clearly still had "the touch" for designing maps, and the same is true of the team that worked on The Lost Levels.
I don't really have anything negative to say about Doom 64. The shotguns could maybe do with like, three or four extra frames of animation, I guess. That's it! This is such an easy 5/5, but at the same time I feel pretty strongly about liking this more than the original Doom, and that's also a 5/5. One way of looking at this is that Id put out some truly impressive games in the 90s. Another is that my entire rating system is fucked and must be thrown out and now I need to relog every single game I have ever played.
"Design better levels!" I shout.
"No," he cackles as I dissolve into thousands of cockroaches. I wake up drenched in sweat and tears.
Needless to say, I was not expecting my benchmark to change less than a year after playing Doom, but Doom 64 is good. It's really good.
The switch to fully-3D environments adds so much to the Doom formula. Maps have a greater sense of physicality and scale, and progression feels more complex without ever becoming so obtuse as to require a guide. The puzzle-centric approach of some of Doom II's levels is made more coherent in here, and the ways in which the structure of your surroundings change - whether by pistons beating the ground to open a new path, darts flinging from walls to keep you moving, or the ground dropping out to confine you to a tighter space during a combat encounter - results in levels that are more actively hostile, but never in a way that slaps of being clumsy or mean-spirited.
The rendered nature of these levels also allows for some interesting lighting choices. The desolate UAC facilities that open the game and even Hell itself is characterized by sickly fluorescents and gaudy bright neons, and while Doom 64's lighting effects are of course very rudimentary, it is such a look. The lack of a proper hard rock Doom-ass Doom soundtrack in favor of more ambient music, wails, and demonic groans is another strong choice that helps give Doom 64 a more unique identity. Flipping switches and picking up keys introduces new waves of demons to rooms you and your super shotgun previously made safe just like in the last two games, but the constant growl of demons just beyond your surroundings produces an atmosphere where you know there's always something else out there waiting to throw a fireball at your face.
This version also contains The Lost Levels, which thankfully does not involve replaying the same tight platforming sequences over and over until I scream and get Mad For Real on a voice call. Rather, it's a small set of additional maps that bridges the narrative gap between Doom 64 and 2016's DOOM. If you didn't tell me that and just tacked them onto the end of Doom 64, I probably wouldn't know any better. Their design is so authentic to that of the game they're built off of that it just feels seamless. Romero's bonus episode for the original Doom, Sigil, showed that he clearly still had "the touch" for designing maps, and the same is true of the team that worked on The Lost Levels.
I don't really have anything negative to say about Doom 64. The shotguns could maybe do with like, three or four extra frames of animation, I guess. That's it! This is such an easy 5/5, but at the same time I feel pretty strongly about liking this more than the original Doom, and that's also a 5/5. One way of looking at this is that Id put out some truly impressive games in the 90s. Another is that my entire rating system is fucked and must be thrown out and now I need to relog every single game I have ever played.
1996
I feel like around the release of Sonic Boom, the question of what is the worst Sonic game started to be relitigated. Though 2006's Sonic the Hedgehog has many challengers, it remains undefeated, but this is a dull and easy answer that rarely satisfies anymore. People are sick of hearing about Sonic 2006, there's little left to be wrung from its mummified corpse, yet the desire remains to find something that can be approached with the same animus. People want to hate, and that's why the question even gets posed in the first place - it's a thinly veiled attempt to stoke negative discussion for the sake of it.
Anyway, Sonic Blast is a solid runner-up and I am not above rolling in the muck.
Now you know me, I'm a big fan of Donkey Kong Country. Ape love Silicon Graphics, digitized sprites make ape happy. I will never in a trillion years understand why Aspect thought to apply the same graphical style to a Game Gear game. Sure, it gives it arguably more fidelity than anything else on the system, but the limitations of the Game Gear - its inability to allow for fluid animation or richness of color - causes all that detail to go to waste. This game is hideous, and worse, the massive scale of the sprites results in the worst case of screen crunch out of the entire 8-bit Sonic the Hedgehog catalog. I've said before that this is a problem in all of the Game Gear Sonics, and yet the hedgehog's final outing on the system double downs on this flaw like it's a feature.
Poor level design and lousy controls pile on to ensure there's no redeeming quality to this game. Sonic's behavior with surfaces is inconsistent. Only a modicum of momentum is needed to clear loops, whereas sloped surfaces cause his spin dash to catch. Not for nothing, the first three zones allow you to circumvent any wonkiness by simply jumping and flinging Sonic forward, because they're so open that you don't really need to actually interact with anything like you might in a better designed game. Blue Marine, Sonic Blast's requisite water level, is where the game starts expecting you to play on its terms, which is probably why you'll spend about 1/3 of your playthrough slogging your way through water trying to figure out pipe mazes - something the Game Gear games are weirdly preoccupied with!
Aspect also worked on Sonic Triple Trouble and Sonic Chaos, and while neither of those are spectacular, they might as well be Sonic 3 & Knuckles when stacked up against Blast. It's almost hard to believe the same company had a hand in all three, but they worked on Tails Adventure, too.
At least I had the benefit of not souring my formative Sonic years playing this thing. I don't think I was even aware of it until a friend lent me his Game Gear in high school, and I question what kind of coverage it even got at the time, as the most I could find from English publications was a single blurb in the November 1996 issue of GamePro. Framing the feature as a "Sega comeback" and leading with coverage on Sonic Blast, Sonic 3D Blast, and Sonic X-treme (which they do accurately predict would be further off than 1997) is pretty funny thanks to the gift of hindsight. Knuckles is also referred to here as "the twin-tailed fox." What a blunder! Not very professional of the GamePros, if you ask me.
Sonic Blast was new to me in 2004, in that tight window between Sonic Heroes and Sonic 2006, where I could comfortably say it was "the worst one." What a time to be experiencing some Sonic the damn Hedgehog. Thanks to its rerelease in Sonic Origins, now you can, too. (Author's note: Do not.)
Anyway, Sonic Blast is a solid runner-up and I am not above rolling in the muck.
Now you know me, I'm a big fan of Donkey Kong Country. Ape love Silicon Graphics, digitized sprites make ape happy. I will never in a trillion years understand why Aspect thought to apply the same graphical style to a Game Gear game. Sure, it gives it arguably more fidelity than anything else on the system, but the limitations of the Game Gear - its inability to allow for fluid animation or richness of color - causes all that detail to go to waste. This game is hideous, and worse, the massive scale of the sprites results in the worst case of screen crunch out of the entire 8-bit Sonic the Hedgehog catalog. I've said before that this is a problem in all of the Game Gear Sonics, and yet the hedgehog's final outing on the system double downs on this flaw like it's a feature.
Poor level design and lousy controls pile on to ensure there's no redeeming quality to this game. Sonic's behavior with surfaces is inconsistent. Only a modicum of momentum is needed to clear loops, whereas sloped surfaces cause his spin dash to catch. Not for nothing, the first three zones allow you to circumvent any wonkiness by simply jumping and flinging Sonic forward, because they're so open that you don't really need to actually interact with anything like you might in a better designed game. Blue Marine, Sonic Blast's requisite water level, is where the game starts expecting you to play on its terms, which is probably why you'll spend about 1/3 of your playthrough slogging your way through water trying to figure out pipe mazes - something the Game Gear games are weirdly preoccupied with!
Aspect also worked on Sonic Triple Trouble and Sonic Chaos, and while neither of those are spectacular, they might as well be Sonic 3 & Knuckles when stacked up against Blast. It's almost hard to believe the same company had a hand in all three, but they worked on Tails Adventure, too.
At least I had the benefit of not souring my formative Sonic years playing this thing. I don't think I was even aware of it until a friend lent me his Game Gear in high school, and I question what kind of coverage it even got at the time, as the most I could find from English publications was a single blurb in the November 1996 issue of GamePro. Framing the feature as a "Sega comeback" and leading with coverage on Sonic Blast, Sonic 3D Blast, and Sonic X-treme (which they do accurately predict would be further off than 1997) is pretty funny thanks to the gift of hindsight. Knuckles is also referred to here as "the twin-tailed fox." What a blunder! Not very professional of the GamePros, if you ask me.
Sonic Blast was new to me in 2004, in that tight window between Sonic Heroes and Sonic 2006, where I could comfortably say it was "the worst one." What a time to be experiencing some Sonic the damn Hedgehog. Thanks to its rerelease in Sonic Origins, now you can, too. (Author's note: Do not.)
I wanna drink whatever is inside Cuphead. Just pick him up and consume his essence. I don't know whether this would kill him or not, and frankly? That doesn't even matter to me. In fact, I might just throw him on the ground to make sure it happens, then make Mugman drink a little bit of himself in a smaller cup, fuck him up like Ray Liotta in Hannibal.
I've occasionally found myself thinking about doing a second run through Cuphead ever since the game launched back in 2017, but with the release of The Delicious Last Course and the Physical Edition, now seemed as good a time as any to actually sit down and take a second jog through Inkwell Isle. Of course, by this point I've spent such a considerable amount of time away from the game that it was less a second run and more a semi-blind playthrough. When you get to be my age, you start having trouble remembering faces, but most of the bosses started to come back to me after getting bodied by them a couple of times. "Oh yeah, this medusa lady was tough as hell 30 years ago..."
The easiest way to describe Cuphead is to compare it to Alien Soldier, Treasure's 1995 run-and-gun/boss rush hybrid for the Sega Genesis that everybody, everybody, has definitely played. Basically the same game except you get to fight Bluto instead of wolves riding mechanical unicorns with names like WOLFGUNBLOOD GAROPA. Just like Alien Soldier, Cuphead is all about presenting the player with unique boss battles that are equal parts spectacle and challenge, placing a strong emphasis on reflexive gameplay and memorization of boss patterns which sometimes requires multiple attempts before you sink into a good rhythm.
There's plenty of games out there that expect a similar level of willingness on the player's part to fail and learn, and they live or die on how satisfying the constant loop of death and progress feels. While Cuphead occasionally tows the line, it's ultimately satisfying, and the inclusion of a progress bar upon each death is a definite check in its favor. There were multiple instances where I took a death and felt a big meaty sigh of defeat coming on only to see I was maybe a hit or two away from beating the boss, and that told me I could do it. Even when you fail on earlier phases, pinpointing your progress gives you a good sense of where you're able to take hits and where you need to tighten up your approach. Cuphead is very good at encouraging the player without ever pandering to them.
I think the only area where Cuphead really falters is in its run-and-gun stages, which at times just feel like filler. They're still rich in that same Fleischer flavor that informs the entire look of the game, but you can tell in the way they play and how they're presented that Studio MDHR's passion was elsewhere. To again evoke Alien Soldier, it's a very similar feeling that I get from that game's run-and-gun levels in that they almost feel obligatory, even though they weren't really required at al.
Viewed in isolation, I think The Delicious Last Course sticks the landing a bit better than base Cuphead. The new bosses the DLC introduces are all fantastic, though I would caution new players from sailing off to Inkwell Isle IV the second they're able to (basically the start of the game.) I decided to do this and since I'm so obstinate, I brute forced my way through without any upgrades outside of the homing shot, a weapon that's not great outside of a few key instances - though the Last Course's final boss happens to be one of those, as being able to hold the attack button and simply focus on the obscene amount of projectiles he spits out helps tremendously. Last Course also adds a colosseum comprised entirely of smartly designed bosses that can only be fought by parrying, and I kinda wish there was more of them. They're a lot of fun and way more engaging than the considerably more simplistic mausoleum challenges sprinkled throughout the main game.
Back in 2017, I never would've thought I'd have a physical copy of Cuphead that I could hold in my own very real hands. It even comes with a little member's card and some very nicely designed single-panel gag strips, which definitely sweeten the package. Physical editions of previously "digital only" games is something that appears to be happening with more regularity and with far shorter gaps of time between versions. Take Bomb Rush Cyberfunk, for example, which had its own physical edition announced less than a week after I paid 40$ to download the game in what I'm sure was an act of deliberate aggression against me, personally. Even Signalis and Sonic Origins are getting their own physical copies less than a year from release and given my strong preference for owning hard copies of games, I'm glad to see these titles break out of the realm of digital downloads. Cuphead's physical edition is a solid release of a great game and is well worth having on your shelf.
I've occasionally found myself thinking about doing a second run through Cuphead ever since the game launched back in 2017, but with the release of The Delicious Last Course and the Physical Edition, now seemed as good a time as any to actually sit down and take a second jog through Inkwell Isle. Of course, by this point I've spent such a considerable amount of time away from the game that it was less a second run and more a semi-blind playthrough. When you get to be my age, you start having trouble remembering faces, but most of the bosses started to come back to me after getting bodied by them a couple of times. "Oh yeah, this medusa lady was tough as hell 30 years ago..."
The easiest way to describe Cuphead is to compare it to Alien Soldier, Treasure's 1995 run-and-gun/boss rush hybrid for the Sega Genesis that everybody, everybody, has definitely played. Basically the same game except you get to fight Bluto instead of wolves riding mechanical unicorns with names like WOLFGUNBLOOD GAROPA. Just like Alien Soldier, Cuphead is all about presenting the player with unique boss battles that are equal parts spectacle and challenge, placing a strong emphasis on reflexive gameplay and memorization of boss patterns which sometimes requires multiple attempts before you sink into a good rhythm.
There's plenty of games out there that expect a similar level of willingness on the player's part to fail and learn, and they live or die on how satisfying the constant loop of death and progress feels. While Cuphead occasionally tows the line, it's ultimately satisfying, and the inclusion of a progress bar upon each death is a definite check in its favor. There were multiple instances where I took a death and felt a big meaty sigh of defeat coming on only to see I was maybe a hit or two away from beating the boss, and that told me I could do it. Even when you fail on earlier phases, pinpointing your progress gives you a good sense of where you're able to take hits and where you need to tighten up your approach. Cuphead is very good at encouraging the player without ever pandering to them.
I think the only area where Cuphead really falters is in its run-and-gun stages, which at times just feel like filler. They're still rich in that same Fleischer flavor that informs the entire look of the game, but you can tell in the way they play and how they're presented that Studio MDHR's passion was elsewhere. To again evoke Alien Soldier, it's a very similar feeling that I get from that game's run-and-gun levels in that they almost feel obligatory, even though they weren't really required at al.
Viewed in isolation, I think The Delicious Last Course sticks the landing a bit better than base Cuphead. The new bosses the DLC introduces are all fantastic, though I would caution new players from sailing off to Inkwell Isle IV the second they're able to (basically the start of the game.) I decided to do this and since I'm so obstinate, I brute forced my way through without any upgrades outside of the homing shot, a weapon that's not great outside of a few key instances - though the Last Course's final boss happens to be one of those, as being able to hold the attack button and simply focus on the obscene amount of projectiles he spits out helps tremendously. Last Course also adds a colosseum comprised entirely of smartly designed bosses that can only be fought by parrying, and I kinda wish there was more of them. They're a lot of fun and way more engaging than the considerably more simplistic mausoleum challenges sprinkled throughout the main game.
Back in 2017, I never would've thought I'd have a physical copy of Cuphead that I could hold in my own very real hands. It even comes with a little member's card and some very nicely designed single-panel gag strips, which definitely sweeten the package. Physical editions of previously "digital only" games is something that appears to be happening with more regularity and with far shorter gaps of time between versions. Take Bomb Rush Cyberfunk, for example, which had its own physical edition announced less than a week after I paid 40$ to download the game in what I'm sure was an act of deliberate aggression against me, personally. Even Signalis and Sonic Origins are getting their own physical copies less than a year from release and given my strong preference for owning hard copies of games, I'm glad to see these titles break out of the realm of digital downloads. Cuphead's physical edition is a solid release of a great game and is well worth having on your shelf.
1995
My first exposure to Astal was through the Archie Sonic the Hedgehog comic. He showed up a few times in the background of panels, just a weird lookin' fella with a design that really stood out, almost like he was from something.
Turns out the reason I didn't recognize him was because nobody owned a Sega Saturn.
I do now, though! And shortly after getting Pseudo Saturn Kai up and running and burning a mountain of ill-gotten games, Astal was one of the first I played. I went in with low expectations and almost zero notion of what it even was, and that was probably the best mindset to be in. If you're expecting anything other than a generic mid-90s platformer, you're probably going to be pretty disappointed.
Personally, I think Astal's simplicity is part of what makes it so enjoyable. It's not a demanding game, it lacks complex mechanics and takes almost no time to get acclimated to, which makes it perfect if you're looking for something you can jump right into and have a good time with for about an hour. My only real complaint is that the game ends so suddenly and with such an abrupt shift in scenery that it feels like a whole world got cut somewhere. Without a shred of hyperbole, I was trying to remember how much game I had left when Astal transitioned to the final boss.
The generic nature of its gameplay is made up for by strong presentation. Colors range from soft pastels to bright neons, and backgrounds have an almost air-brushed quality to them that, coupled with a gentle soundtrack, gives Astal this nostalgic, dream-like feeling. The prevailing aesthetics of the 90s were defined by how garish, aggressive, and full of put-on attitude they were, but it was a more stylistically rich era than that. Astal is none of those things yet quintessentially 90s, which helps it stir in me familiar feelings of waking up at the crack of dawn to play games, even if I didn't experience it that way back in the day.
Like Sonic Blast, I decided to look up coverage of Astal contemporary with its release, and I found that UK publications did a lot more to cover the game compared to their considerably less interested American counterparts. I'm sure this is partly due to Sega's market share being different between the two countries, but a quick read through Mega's August 95 cover feature - where Astal was dismissed as being overpriced and less fun than Sonic ("It doesn't have a fancy intro either. Ho hum. At least it's better than Daedalus...") - and GamePro's November 95 review highlights an almost comical gulf in terms writing quality. GamePro's Scary Larry does show a respectable amount of restraint in making only two puns about "Astal" sounding like "ass."
Meanwhile, Russian magazine Strana Igr said of Astal, "Это вообще ничего не значит." I don't really know what the hell that means. Maybe it says something about how Astal does a respectable job filling the void left by Sonic the Hedgehog on the Saturn, even if it may not be the most revolutionary platformer out there.
Turns out the reason I didn't recognize him was because nobody owned a Sega Saturn.
I do now, though! And shortly after getting Pseudo Saturn Kai up and running and burning a mountain of ill-gotten games, Astal was one of the first I played. I went in with low expectations and almost zero notion of what it even was, and that was probably the best mindset to be in. If you're expecting anything other than a generic mid-90s platformer, you're probably going to be pretty disappointed.
Personally, I think Astal's simplicity is part of what makes it so enjoyable. It's not a demanding game, it lacks complex mechanics and takes almost no time to get acclimated to, which makes it perfect if you're looking for something you can jump right into and have a good time with for about an hour. My only real complaint is that the game ends so suddenly and with such an abrupt shift in scenery that it feels like a whole world got cut somewhere. Without a shred of hyperbole, I was trying to remember how much game I had left when Astal transitioned to the final boss.
The generic nature of its gameplay is made up for by strong presentation. Colors range from soft pastels to bright neons, and backgrounds have an almost air-brushed quality to them that, coupled with a gentle soundtrack, gives Astal this nostalgic, dream-like feeling. The prevailing aesthetics of the 90s were defined by how garish, aggressive, and full of put-on attitude they were, but it was a more stylistically rich era than that. Astal is none of those things yet quintessentially 90s, which helps it stir in me familiar feelings of waking up at the crack of dawn to play games, even if I didn't experience it that way back in the day.
Like Sonic Blast, I decided to look up coverage of Astal contemporary with its release, and I found that UK publications did a lot more to cover the game compared to their considerably less interested American counterparts. I'm sure this is partly due to Sega's market share being different between the two countries, but a quick read through Mega's August 95 cover feature - where Astal was dismissed as being overpriced and less fun than Sonic ("It doesn't have a fancy intro either. Ho hum. At least it's better than Daedalus...") - and GamePro's November 95 review highlights an almost comical gulf in terms writing quality. GamePro's Scary Larry does show a respectable amount of restraint in making only two puns about "Astal" sounding like "ass."
Meanwhile, Russian magazine Strana Igr said of Astal, "Это вообще ничего не значит." I don't really know what the hell that means. Maybe it says something about how Astal does a respectable job filling the void left by Sonic the Hedgehog on the Saturn, even if it may not be the most revolutionary platformer out there.
2023
Was pretty committed to beating this until I hit the executive level and I started thinking about other video games I'd rather be playing. My own personal SHODAN, Larry Davis, sometimes mentions to me how a game he doesn't like drops in half-star increments the more he plays, and I think that about sums up how I started to feel about System Shock (2023). The difference here is that I have enough games to play right now and I'd rather not push ahead with this just to be like "yo, did you hear Nightdive made a 2.5/5 System Shock??"
Citadel Station is the same arduous maze it always was and it's still obtuse to navigate. It's massive, oppressive, and actively hostile towards your existence. Every step of the way you're fighting SHODAN, you are literally within her plucking out her eyes and shooting at the cells she sends after you like a body would attack a virus. But familiar as it is, it doesn't really add anything. The Enhanced Edition already solves a lot of System Shock's cumbersome controls, it lets you break apart its UI and chuck its superfluous elements into the trash, or you can play it the way LookingGlass intended: via a system of pulleys and levers. However, while the Enhanced Edition gives you modernized controls as an option, the remake is built with them from the ground up. You could play it with a controller if you want, like a monster.
This results in a much smoother experience, one that's accompanied by some great art direction, an excellent soundtrack, and combat that has much more ommph thanks to nearly 30 years of technological leaps in animation and graphics. It also feels completely unnecessary, and hours into getting horrifically lost and accidentally firing a mining laser at Earth again, I started to feel like my second run through the station was dragging. At its worst, removing too much of System Shock's chunkiness becomes detrimental to its charm, but perhaps that's the purist in me pining for whatever the hell this is.
Some aspects, like VR, feel actively worse than before, and I encountered a staggering amount of collision issues that sent me falling through floors and elevators. Occasional errors with the game mis-flagging my location left me spawning in regeneration booths on totally different floors, and I encountered one crash that required running through a few excruciating combat encounters in the Grove for a second time. Your mileage and PC build may vary, but I found the remake to be pretty flimsy.
It's still System Shock, which is good, but I found the remake to be a bit too buggy and conceptually boring despite the shiny new coat Nightdive has given it. I feel like you'd get more out of this if you never played the original or the Enhanced Edition, and if you have then you may find Nightdive's take to be a bit watered down. It doesn't even have the cool Hackerman intro... or rather it does, just expanded upon and rendered more dull for it, and I think from the jump that's a good way of telling you exactly what you'll get from this particular version of System Shock. Shelving this thing because I'm starting to understand how people feel about the Demon's Souls Remake and this is not good for my soul.
Citadel Station is the same arduous maze it always was and it's still obtuse to navigate. It's massive, oppressive, and actively hostile towards your existence. Every step of the way you're fighting SHODAN, you are literally within her plucking out her eyes and shooting at the cells she sends after you like a body would attack a virus. But familiar as it is, it doesn't really add anything. The Enhanced Edition already solves a lot of System Shock's cumbersome controls, it lets you break apart its UI and chuck its superfluous elements into the trash, or you can play it the way LookingGlass intended: via a system of pulleys and levers. However, while the Enhanced Edition gives you modernized controls as an option, the remake is built with them from the ground up. You could play it with a controller if you want, like a monster.
This results in a much smoother experience, one that's accompanied by some great art direction, an excellent soundtrack, and combat that has much more ommph thanks to nearly 30 years of technological leaps in animation and graphics. It also feels completely unnecessary, and hours into getting horrifically lost and accidentally firing a mining laser at Earth again, I started to feel like my second run through the station was dragging. At its worst, removing too much of System Shock's chunkiness becomes detrimental to its charm, but perhaps that's the purist in me pining for whatever the hell this is.
Some aspects, like VR, feel actively worse than before, and I encountered a staggering amount of collision issues that sent me falling through floors and elevators. Occasional errors with the game mis-flagging my location left me spawning in regeneration booths on totally different floors, and I encountered one crash that required running through a few excruciating combat encounters in the Grove for a second time. Your mileage and PC build may vary, but I found the remake to be pretty flimsy.
It's still System Shock, which is good, but I found the remake to be a bit too buggy and conceptually boring despite the shiny new coat Nightdive has given it. I feel like you'd get more out of this if you never played the original or the Enhanced Edition, and if you have then you may find Nightdive's take to be a bit watered down. It doesn't even have the cool Hackerman intro... or rather it does, just expanded upon and rendered more dull for it, and I think from the jump that's a good way of telling you exactly what you'll get from this particular version of System Shock. Shelving this thing because I'm starting to understand how people feel about the Demon's Souls Remake and this is not good for my soul.