1994
I swear whenever I see Pocky and Rocky being brought up it's always Pocky and Rocky 2 that's talked about. But looking at other reviews and from feedback I've gotten, it sounds like the first is actually the more revered. I don't know. Part of the problem of playing games like I do is that titles like this that are so short they can be completed in an afternoon, and thus played back-to-back with other games in the series, end up blending together in my mind. Pocky and Rocky 1 and 2 might as well be two halves of the same game, at least that's how my brain has been conditioned at this point.
Unfortunately, this also makes it a little difficult for me to say which I like more, as Pocky and Rocky 2 is really just more Pocky and Rocky. The larger roster of characters is fun to play around with and adds some extra replay value over the first, though, but on the other hand I feel like I enjoyed some of the bosses and later levels of the original more than the sequel. As far as I'm concerned, no one is more right or wrong in their preference between these two games, as they feature the same adorable charm, great character designs, and gameplay.
This is of course my way of justifying that I have no favorite and stand for nothing.
Unfortunately, this also makes it a little difficult for me to say which I like more, as Pocky and Rocky 2 is really just more Pocky and Rocky. The larger roster of characters is fun to play around with and adds some extra replay value over the first, though, but on the other hand I feel like I enjoyed some of the bosses and later levels of the original more than the sequel. As far as I'm concerned, no one is more right or wrong in their preference between these two games, as they feature the same adorable charm, great character designs, and gameplay.
This is of course my way of justifying that I have no favorite and stand for nothing.
1994
What Super Punch-Out!! accomplishes more than anything is proving I'm just as ineffectual at fighting in a video game as I am in real life. Now in real life I'm 5'6" - more of a shrimp than Little Mac! - meaning the only way I can feel like a tough guy is by acting out my aggression on digital facsimiles of boxers and strong men, but even then I get my ass kicked. What the hell!?
This is because Super Punch-Out!!! is a game all about spotting tells, reacting on a dime, and developing a careful rhythm tailored to your foe. Unfortunately, I never could quite get this down. I'm just bad at it, and rather than make this out to be a shortcoming of Super Punch-Out!!!! itself, I'd rather just be honest and admit that this isn't my kind of game. A shame too, as I think the sprite work and general presentation here is incredible. The sound effects, music, and character art is easily among my favorite on the SNES, but it is perhaps better enjoyed by watching someone else play.
I did manage to beat Super Punch-Out!!!!!, but only in the most cowardly way possible: abusing save states. Look, when push comes to shove and the weakest among us are called to fight, the meek will use the most crooked methods they can to survive. I'm the kind of guy who will blindside you with a pipe rather than fight fair, but unfortunately Punch-Out!!!!!! doesn't allow you to fight so dirty, and I had to make use with what I had.
If you're more adept than I am at this sort of game, I think there's a lot to love here. It's still pretty fun even if you're not really good at it, and I definitely find it more enjoyable than Mike Tyson's Punch-Out on the NES.
This is because Super Punch-Out!!! is a game all about spotting tells, reacting on a dime, and developing a careful rhythm tailored to your foe. Unfortunately, I never could quite get this down. I'm just bad at it, and rather than make this out to be a shortcoming of Super Punch-Out!!!! itself, I'd rather just be honest and admit that this isn't my kind of game. A shame too, as I think the sprite work and general presentation here is incredible. The sound effects, music, and character art is easily among my favorite on the SNES, but it is perhaps better enjoyed by watching someone else play.
I did manage to beat Super Punch-Out!!!!!, but only in the most cowardly way possible: abusing save states. Look, when push comes to shove and the weakest among us are called to fight, the meek will use the most crooked methods they can to survive. I'm the kind of guy who will blindside you with a pipe rather than fight fair, but unfortunately Punch-Out!!!!!! doesn't allow you to fight so dirty, and I had to make use with what I had.
If you're more adept than I am at this sort of game, I think there's a lot to love here. It's still pretty fun even if you're not really good at it, and I definitely find it more enjoyable than Mike Tyson's Punch-Out on the NES.
What can I say about R-Type III? ... It was R-Type III.
The Third Lightning seems designed to kill you, both in-the game and real life as it tries your nerves so hard you begin to question what the point is in even living. I'm terrible at shoot-em-ups, yet my need to play them is downright compulsive, and somehow I managed to push myself to the end of this game. It wasn't easy though, and in fact it might be the most difficult shoot-em-up (at least of the side-scrolling variety) on my retro bucket list.
Gameplay is fairly unremarkable. If you've played one R-Type, you've pretty much played them all. They're solid games, even if the sheer difficulty of III may get in the way of you having a good time. At least the graphics, art direction, and sound design are all good enough to carry the game even through its weakest moments. I've actually found myself throwing on the soundtrack while drawing or doing work, and I find it a whole lot more worthwhile to revisit than the game itself.
I wouldn't say The Third Lightning is bad. It's a perfectly fine game, just a bit too imbalanced and samey.
The Third Lightning seems designed to kill you, both in-the game and real life as it tries your nerves so hard you begin to question what the point is in even living. I'm terrible at shoot-em-ups, yet my need to play them is downright compulsive, and somehow I managed to push myself to the end of this game. It wasn't easy though, and in fact it might be the most difficult shoot-em-up (at least of the side-scrolling variety) on my retro bucket list.
Gameplay is fairly unremarkable. If you've played one R-Type, you've pretty much played them all. They're solid games, even if the sheer difficulty of III may get in the way of you having a good time. At least the graphics, art direction, and sound design are all good enough to carry the game even through its weakest moments. I've actually found myself throwing on the soundtrack while drawing or doing work, and I find it a whole lot more worthwhile to revisit than the game itself.
I wouldn't say The Third Lightning is bad. It's a perfectly fine game, just a bit too imbalanced and samey.
Hagane: The Final Conflict is the best Shinobi rip-off you've never played. Or maybe you have played it. By this point, countless "hidden gem" retrospectives for the SNES have probably elevated this game to just "gem" status. It's definitely good, but I suspect it's no longer as mysterious and unknown as it once was.
Hagane is just as fun as it is challenging. This is a tough game, but one that feels fair and engaging throughout, never stooping to the same "rental difficulty" level of cheapness that a lot of similar games of the era do. Levels and set pieces are brought to life by some incredible sprite art, and I really love the darker presentation of the game over Shinobi, which is such a stark contrast in color even the two lead characters exist on opposite ends of the color spectrum.
Hagane has a pretty large repertoire of moves, including plenty of acrobatics, a small but useful selection of weapons, and his own version of Ninja Magic. The controls feel great, and the rather short length of levels keeps the game moving at a brisk pace. This definitely falls into the same category as other games I've reviewed where subsequent playthroughs feel better, and executing more efficient runs through the game feels very rewarding.
Can't recommend this one enough. If you have an SNES it's an easy pickup, and you can find plenty of copies on Ebay ranging from a few hundred dollars to a couple thousand.
Wait... oh god damnit.
(I don't want to seem like I'm ripping off Jenny's review with the Shinobi comparison, so I want to point that out as it's very apt.)
Hagane is just as fun as it is challenging. This is a tough game, but one that feels fair and engaging throughout, never stooping to the same "rental difficulty" level of cheapness that a lot of similar games of the era do. Levels and set pieces are brought to life by some incredible sprite art, and I really love the darker presentation of the game over Shinobi, which is such a stark contrast in color even the two lead characters exist on opposite ends of the color spectrum.
Hagane has a pretty large repertoire of moves, including plenty of acrobatics, a small but useful selection of weapons, and his own version of Ninja Magic. The controls feel great, and the rather short length of levels keeps the game moving at a brisk pace. This definitely falls into the same category as other games I've reviewed where subsequent playthroughs feel better, and executing more efficient runs through the game feels very rewarding.
Can't recommend this one enough. If you have an SNES it's an easy pickup, and you can find plenty of copies on Ebay ranging from a few hundred dollars to a couple thousand.
Wait... oh god damnit.
(I don't want to seem like I'm ripping off Jenny's review with the Shinobi comparison, so I want to point that out as it's very apt.)
1986
I wonder what I would think of Metroid now if I were old enough to have played it back in the day. It's a very novel game by 1986 standards, but is so lacking in polish that it becomes progressively harder to revisit as time lurches on. Jumping and lining up shots feels clumsy, none of the enemies are particularly fun to fight against, and each attempt I've made to play it has left me more overwhelmed by its jank than it has in awe of its accomplishments. But I still respect Metroid much in the same way I do The Legend of Zelda, as a game that helped lay the foundation of a new genre, but wouldn't fully cement it into the mainstream until its more refined sequel hit the market.
In fact, you could probably just look at my reviews of The Legend of Zelda and A Link to the Past and derrive a pretty good idea of my relationship to Metroid and Super Metroid. These were probably good games in the mid-to-late 80s, I recognize their importance, but boy I sure don't like playing them now. And that's fine. Just because I don't find it fun doesn't mean it's not a classic. Metroid inarguably pushed the medium ahead, and though three decades later I'd rather eat nails than play it again, it doesn't change how important it is.
If you're looking to get into the Metroid games and want to experience the overarching story from the beginning, I'd highly recommend Zero Mission. I plan to review that in more detail, but suffice it to say, as a remake it benefits tremendously from the mistakes and successes of its predecessor and the evolution of the genre as a whole. As for Metroid, I think it's still worth checking out if only to see where some ever-present elements of search-action games got their start, and to develop a better appreciation for how far the genre has come.
In fact, you could probably just look at my reviews of The Legend of Zelda and A Link to the Past and derrive a pretty good idea of my relationship to Metroid and Super Metroid. These were probably good games in the mid-to-late 80s, I recognize their importance, but boy I sure don't like playing them now. And that's fine. Just because I don't find it fun doesn't mean it's not a classic. Metroid inarguably pushed the medium ahead, and though three decades later I'd rather eat nails than play it again, it doesn't change how important it is.
If you're looking to get into the Metroid games and want to experience the overarching story from the beginning, I'd highly recommend Zero Mission. I plan to review that in more detail, but suffice it to say, as a remake it benefits tremendously from the mistakes and successes of its predecessor and the evolution of the genre as a whole. As for Metroid, I think it's still worth checking out if only to see where some ever-present elements of search-action games got their start, and to develop a better appreciation for how far the genre has come.
Before playing Zero Mission I was fairly unreceptive towards Metroid in general, having built up a pre-conceived notion that I just wouldn't like these games based on my experiences with the GBA Castlevanias. Obviously these are two different franchises handled by two very different companies, and it's foolish on my part to write one off based on the other, but I really had convinced myself that search-action games just weren't for me.
Metroid: Zero Mission thankfully proved me wrong and opened me up to a genre that I've since come to enjoy quite a bit. It might also help that I played this directly after the abysmal NES Metroid, which this game is a direct remake of, and boy did it ever need it.
Areas and story beats from the original game are expanded, and detailed sprite art allows each location to feel far more distinct than in the NES original. Naturally, a better mapping system, new abilities, and updated controls makes navigating Zebes far easier than it was in 1986, and an overall less obtuse design philosophy means you'll be spending far less time meticulously bombing individual tiles for health and missile upgrades. Though Zero Mission is better about telegraphing where to go, the game maintains just enough mystery that finding secrets feels earned, and the layout of Zebes itself is littered with points of interest to pique your curiosity.
It helps too that Samus controls better here than she has in any other Metroid game I've played sans Dread. Even Super Metroid, the perennial favorite that it is, has a certain weight to Samus that can make some jumps feel a bit awkward, whereas every movement in Zero Mission feels completely under your control. Any issues I've had with lining up shots or chaining abilities together simply isn't present here barring a couple very tricky areas that are only reachable with specific timing and perfect execution.
An additional area opens up after you beat what would be Metroid's main campaign, and it's... fine. I actually think it might be my least favorite part of the game, as having to sneak around Space Pirates grinds the momentum built up during the climax on planet Zebes to a halt. It feels very tacked on, almost like a DLC mission in how it fails to gel with the rest of the game. Suddenly finding out there's MORE METROID was probably a bonus for some fans of the series, but I was ready for the game to be over after Mother Brain.
It may not be my favorite Metroid game (I think Super's superb sprite work and atmosphere win me over in the end), but it's an excellent example of a remake that sticks the landing so well it becomes the defacto version of the game for me. I don't care if I ever go back to 1986's Metroid, but writing this review does make me think I should pick up Zero Mission again.
Metroid: Zero Mission thankfully proved me wrong and opened me up to a genre that I've since come to enjoy quite a bit. It might also help that I played this directly after the abysmal NES Metroid, which this game is a direct remake of, and boy did it ever need it.
Areas and story beats from the original game are expanded, and detailed sprite art allows each location to feel far more distinct than in the NES original. Naturally, a better mapping system, new abilities, and updated controls makes navigating Zebes far easier than it was in 1986, and an overall less obtuse design philosophy means you'll be spending far less time meticulously bombing individual tiles for health and missile upgrades. Though Zero Mission is better about telegraphing where to go, the game maintains just enough mystery that finding secrets feels earned, and the layout of Zebes itself is littered with points of interest to pique your curiosity.
It helps too that Samus controls better here than she has in any other Metroid game I've played sans Dread. Even Super Metroid, the perennial favorite that it is, has a certain weight to Samus that can make some jumps feel a bit awkward, whereas every movement in Zero Mission feels completely under your control. Any issues I've had with lining up shots or chaining abilities together simply isn't present here barring a couple very tricky areas that are only reachable with specific timing and perfect execution.
An additional area opens up after you beat what would be Metroid's main campaign, and it's... fine. I actually think it might be my least favorite part of the game, as having to sneak around Space Pirates grinds the momentum built up during the climax on planet Zebes to a halt. It feels very tacked on, almost like a DLC mission in how it fails to gel with the rest of the game. Suddenly finding out there's MORE METROID was probably a bonus for some fans of the series, but I was ready for the game to be over after Mother Brain.
It may not be my favorite Metroid game (I think Super's superb sprite work and atmosphere win me over in the end), but it's an excellent example of a remake that sticks the landing so well it becomes the defacto version of the game for me. I don't care if I ever go back to 1986's Metroid, but writing this review does make me think I should pick up Zero Mission again.
2002
God, where do I even begin...
I played the hell out of Kingdom Hearts when it first came out, it was one of those games where I just felt compelled to do literally everything there is to do before putting it away. I was so excited to see where the story could go next, what they could do to build on the gameplay, and when Chain of Memories came out you can bet your ass I was there day one to find out.
Yeah, anyway, that was it for me!
It took me over a decade to get around to playing Kingdom Hearts 2, which I knew I needed to finally tackle as I was putting together my retro games bucket list. Of course, I also knew I couldn't just go in with a nearly 17-year distant memory of the original game and its plot, so I decided to sit down and get caught up by replaying the original Kingdom Hearts. And you know, I kinda see what I liked about this game, even if I don't think it totally holds up.
I shouldn't need to explain to anyone what the main conceit of this game is. The union of Final Fantasy and Walt Disney was every bit as bizarre back in 2002 as it is today (granted, the direct ties to Final Fantasy seem considerably scaled down in modern Kingdom Hearts), and it definitely gives this game a unique tone. As Sora, you jump between loose retellings of classic Disney movies with your pals Donald Duck and Goofy, interspersed with the most needlessly convoluted, angsty, nonsense that crazed visionary Tetsuya Nomura could divine. I'm still not sure I can properly articulate what the plot of Kingdom Hearts even is, and this is by far the most straight-forward entry in the entire franchise. All I know is Billy Zane wants to open the door to the titular Kingdom Hearts, and for that he needs your friend's youthful body and a bunch of broads.
Eschewing the (at the time) standard of turn-based combat the Final Fantasy series was best known for, Kingdom Hearts an action RPG, which means you hit things in real time with Sora's keyblade, which is both a key and a blade. I remember getting way into Kingdom Heart's combat, finding it to have a remarkable amount of depth with enough late game super-bosses to encourage grinding out experience and developing new strategies. Nowadays it seems pretty shallow and lacking in the same frenetic energy a lot of ARPG's are known for. Having to toggle between menu options while action is still happening around you often leaves you wide open, and a abysmal camera only makes it more likely you'll get beaned in the back of the head when you're trying to down a potion. The AI is total crap too, Donald and Goofy are either over-zealous with their use of items and spells, downright suicidal, or totally checked-out liabilities.
Thankfully, most of the bosses and combat encounters in this game are a cakewalk. The real challenge comes from confronting those optional super-bosses I mentioned, which account for some of the most unique fights in the game. I was convinced back in the day that no boss in any video game was as hard as Sephiroth in Kingdom Hearts. I'm not sure I can even quantify the amount of attempts it took to finally beat him, nor could I adequately describe the smug sense of satisfaction I had when I finally pulled it off. Of course my assessment that he was the hardest ever of all time is hysterically wrong, and even later series super-bosses would outshine him as Square continued to ratchet the difficulty up to impossibly ridiculous heights, but that didn't stop him from becoming the bane of my existence yet again when I picked this game back up so many years later. I couldn't be happier. I actually felt compelled to slog through the tedium of finding trinity marks and forging the Ultima Weapon to do it, and while I do think years of playing ARPGs and better understanding how to build Sora made this a far more manageable experience, kicking his ass a second time just felt good. Easily the highlight of the game.
As a 34-year-old who is not suffering from Adult Disney Brain, I found myself a lot less immersed in the Disney worlds this time around, and a whole lot less patient of things like the Gummi Ship minigame. Most of my nostalgic investment in Kingdom Hearts is tied up in the more peculiar elements and plot threads than it is the novelty of seeing Tarzan or Jack Skellington. Level designs are also lackluster, requiring you to trudge through some uninteresting areas on loop as you check off a laundry list of busy work that I'm sure is intended to trick you into thinking these areas are bigger than they are by making them take longer to beat. The Tarzan level is an early indication that things are gonna get pretty rough, and by the time you get to Hollow Bastion you might find yourself audibly asking why anyone thought these dungeons would be fun to explore.
Kingdom Hearts is dated. It's silly. It's at times frustrating to play. But some excellent late-game bosses, insane story beats, and nostalgia kept me so invested that I mastered it all over again a decade-and-a-half later. No matter how much it shows its age now, or even over the next decade-plus, I'm sure I'll always find something to like about Kingdom Hearts.
I played the hell out of Kingdom Hearts when it first came out, it was one of those games where I just felt compelled to do literally everything there is to do before putting it away. I was so excited to see where the story could go next, what they could do to build on the gameplay, and when Chain of Memories came out you can bet your ass I was there day one to find out.
Yeah, anyway, that was it for me!
It took me over a decade to get around to playing Kingdom Hearts 2, which I knew I needed to finally tackle as I was putting together my retro games bucket list. Of course, I also knew I couldn't just go in with a nearly 17-year distant memory of the original game and its plot, so I decided to sit down and get caught up by replaying the original Kingdom Hearts. And you know, I kinda see what I liked about this game, even if I don't think it totally holds up.
I shouldn't need to explain to anyone what the main conceit of this game is. The union of Final Fantasy and Walt Disney was every bit as bizarre back in 2002 as it is today (granted, the direct ties to Final Fantasy seem considerably scaled down in modern Kingdom Hearts), and it definitely gives this game a unique tone. As Sora, you jump between loose retellings of classic Disney movies with your pals Donald Duck and Goofy, interspersed with the most needlessly convoluted, angsty, nonsense that crazed visionary Tetsuya Nomura could divine. I'm still not sure I can properly articulate what the plot of Kingdom Hearts even is, and this is by far the most straight-forward entry in the entire franchise. All I know is Billy Zane wants to open the door to the titular Kingdom Hearts, and for that he needs your friend's youthful body and a bunch of broads.
Eschewing the (at the time) standard of turn-based combat the Final Fantasy series was best known for, Kingdom Hearts an action RPG, which means you hit things in real time with Sora's keyblade, which is both a key and a blade. I remember getting way into Kingdom Heart's combat, finding it to have a remarkable amount of depth with enough late game super-bosses to encourage grinding out experience and developing new strategies. Nowadays it seems pretty shallow and lacking in the same frenetic energy a lot of ARPG's are known for. Having to toggle between menu options while action is still happening around you often leaves you wide open, and a abysmal camera only makes it more likely you'll get beaned in the back of the head when you're trying to down a potion. The AI is total crap too, Donald and Goofy are either over-zealous with their use of items and spells, downright suicidal, or totally checked-out liabilities.
Thankfully, most of the bosses and combat encounters in this game are a cakewalk. The real challenge comes from confronting those optional super-bosses I mentioned, which account for some of the most unique fights in the game. I was convinced back in the day that no boss in any video game was as hard as Sephiroth in Kingdom Hearts. I'm not sure I can even quantify the amount of attempts it took to finally beat him, nor could I adequately describe the smug sense of satisfaction I had when I finally pulled it off. Of course my assessment that he was the hardest ever of all time is hysterically wrong, and even later series super-bosses would outshine him as Square continued to ratchet the difficulty up to impossibly ridiculous heights, but that didn't stop him from becoming the bane of my existence yet again when I picked this game back up so many years later. I couldn't be happier. I actually felt compelled to slog through the tedium of finding trinity marks and forging the Ultima Weapon to do it, and while I do think years of playing ARPGs and better understanding how to build Sora made this a far more manageable experience, kicking his ass a second time just felt good. Easily the highlight of the game.
As a 34-year-old who is not suffering from Adult Disney Brain, I found myself a lot less immersed in the Disney worlds this time around, and a whole lot less patient of things like the Gummi Ship minigame. Most of my nostalgic investment in Kingdom Hearts is tied up in the more peculiar elements and plot threads than it is the novelty of seeing Tarzan or Jack Skellington. Level designs are also lackluster, requiring you to trudge through some uninteresting areas on loop as you check off a laundry list of busy work that I'm sure is intended to trick you into thinking these areas are bigger than they are by making them take longer to beat. The Tarzan level is an early indication that things are gonna get pretty rough, and by the time you get to Hollow Bastion you might find yourself audibly asking why anyone thought these dungeons would be fun to explore.
Kingdom Hearts is dated. It's silly. It's at times frustrating to play. But some excellent late-game bosses, insane story beats, and nostalgia kept me so invested that I mastered it all over again a decade-and-a-half later. No matter how much it shows its age now, or even over the next decade-plus, I'm sure I'll always find something to like about Kingdom Hearts.
When I beat Kingdom Hearts back in 2002, I was left with many lingering questions. The cliffhanger ending left Rikku and Mickey trapped and Sora's quest to reunite with his friends unfulfilled. If that wasn't enough to keep someone like me invested, the secret ending set up the next leg of the story in the most cryptic way possible, which only fueled my thirst for answers.
Unfortunately, Kingdom Hearts II raises more questions in exchange for mere droplets of resolution, something that has become sort of a series tradition. Had Chain of Memories not so efficiently terminated my investment in 2004, perhaps I would have come to learn this valuable lesson about Kingdom Hearts much sooner.
The game opens like Metal Gear Solid 2 in reverse, as you find yourself in control of a character who is decidedly not Sora. The town you're in, your friends, and the enemies you fight all feel off. You soon find out it's because Sora is really in a simulation as his memories are repaired after the events of the previous game (which itself was a retread of the first Kingdom Hearts, and look, it's all dumb and it's just going to get more dumb.) It definitely makes for a disorienting opening when so much of the game otherwise fits the formula the original Kingdom Hearts established. Sora, Donald, and Goofy hop from one Disney themed planet to the next, solving problems on an almost episodic basis while the big bads, Organization XIII, scheme in the background. During my first playthrough I actually found myself kind of surprised that this was the Kingdom Hearts game everyone thought was a crazy time convoluted shit show. There's some wild stuff, but it tends to come in bursts, and it at least seems like they're going someplace with all this talk about Nobodies and Heartless and the Door to Darkness that will get untangled just in time for the final act.
It does not get untangled.
To again draw the comparison to Metal Gear Solid 2 - a game which actually has something to say - Kingdom Hearts 2 plays its hand in its final act, and either you're going to love it or you're going to hate it. I won't get into spoilers because I really do feel it's best enjoyed going in totally blind, and because I really can't make much sense of it myself. Nomura is an auteur, and I realize that probably sounds very pretentious to say about someone who is in charge of the Disney RPG where Goofy gets hit in the head with a rock, dies, spurs his friends to fight from the emotional weight of his loss, only to wake up the next scene and go "gorsh I get hit in the head all the time!", but I stand by it. Nobody else could possibly make a Kingdom Hearts game crazy in a way that feels authentic to Nomura's vision other than the man himself. For better or worse, you don't have Kingdom Hearts without him.
Gameplay is vastly improved over the first game. Combat is a lot more fluid, fast paced, and a wider range of abilities creates some much needed depth. Drive Forms further expand on what Sora is capable of, allowing him to gain distinct advantages based on which form his assumes while augmenting the way Sora plays. Donald and Goofy have improved AI as well, though they're far from perfect and still end up being more of a hinderance than a help. Summons are also present, but there's only four and they all feel pretty lackluster. Sora is already capable of so much, so I never really felt compelled to to use them, and frankly I question why they ever bothered including them in the first place.
The Disney worlds are a mixed bag. Atlantis is a dismal rhythm game that overstays its welcome only a few notes in, and Port Royale is a drab, lifeless slog. On the other hand, I was really drawn into Timeless River's classic Disney cartoon aesthetic, and it was nice to see Olympus fleshed out into a fully realized world. It's always a joy to hear James Woods turn up as the voice of Hades. He's a great guy who has never done cocaine in his entire life.
Kingdom Hearts II takes everything about the first game and just goes places with it. Combat is fleshed out, the story is bigger, louder, and far more complex, and the worlds are (with some exceptions) a lot more engaging. It doesn't always stick the landing, and it may be the point where the series really goes off the rails, but having had as much fun with this as I did 14 years after its release, I think it's pretty safe to say I think this is a good game.
Unfortunately, Kingdom Hearts II raises more questions in exchange for mere droplets of resolution, something that has become sort of a series tradition. Had Chain of Memories not so efficiently terminated my investment in 2004, perhaps I would have come to learn this valuable lesson about Kingdom Hearts much sooner.
The game opens like Metal Gear Solid 2 in reverse, as you find yourself in control of a character who is decidedly not Sora. The town you're in, your friends, and the enemies you fight all feel off. You soon find out it's because Sora is really in a simulation as his memories are repaired after the events of the previous game (which itself was a retread of the first Kingdom Hearts, and look, it's all dumb and it's just going to get more dumb.) It definitely makes for a disorienting opening when so much of the game otherwise fits the formula the original Kingdom Hearts established. Sora, Donald, and Goofy hop from one Disney themed planet to the next, solving problems on an almost episodic basis while the big bads, Organization XIII, scheme in the background. During my first playthrough I actually found myself kind of surprised that this was the Kingdom Hearts game everyone thought was a crazy time convoluted shit show. There's some wild stuff, but it tends to come in bursts, and it at least seems like they're going someplace with all this talk about Nobodies and Heartless and the Door to Darkness that will get untangled just in time for the final act.
It does not get untangled.
To again draw the comparison to Metal Gear Solid 2 - a game which actually has something to say - Kingdom Hearts 2 plays its hand in its final act, and either you're going to love it or you're going to hate it. I won't get into spoilers because I really do feel it's best enjoyed going in totally blind, and because I really can't make much sense of it myself. Nomura is an auteur, and I realize that probably sounds very pretentious to say about someone who is in charge of the Disney RPG where Goofy gets hit in the head with a rock, dies, spurs his friends to fight from the emotional weight of his loss, only to wake up the next scene and go "gorsh I get hit in the head all the time!", but I stand by it. Nobody else could possibly make a Kingdom Hearts game crazy in a way that feels authentic to Nomura's vision other than the man himself. For better or worse, you don't have Kingdom Hearts without him.
Gameplay is vastly improved over the first game. Combat is a lot more fluid, fast paced, and a wider range of abilities creates some much needed depth. Drive Forms further expand on what Sora is capable of, allowing him to gain distinct advantages based on which form his assumes while augmenting the way Sora plays. Donald and Goofy have improved AI as well, though they're far from perfect and still end up being more of a hinderance than a help. Summons are also present, but there's only four and they all feel pretty lackluster. Sora is already capable of so much, so I never really felt compelled to to use them, and frankly I question why they ever bothered including them in the first place.
The Disney worlds are a mixed bag. Atlantis is a dismal rhythm game that overstays its welcome only a few notes in, and Port Royale is a drab, lifeless slog. On the other hand, I was really drawn into Timeless River's classic Disney cartoon aesthetic, and it was nice to see Olympus fleshed out into a fully realized world. It's always a joy to hear James Woods turn up as the voice of Hades. He's a great guy who has never done cocaine in his entire life.
Kingdom Hearts II takes everything about the first game and just goes places with it. Combat is fleshed out, the story is bigger, louder, and far more complex, and the worlds are (with some exceptions) a lot more engaging. It doesn't always stick the landing, and it may be the point where the series really goes off the rails, but having had as much fun with this as I did 14 years after its release, I think it's pretty safe to say I think this is a good game.
Kingdom Hearts, 358/2 Days. See, normally If you go one on one with a Heartless, you got a 50/50 chance of winning. But I'm a genetic freak and I'm not normal. So you got a 25%, AT BEST, at beat me. Then you add Goofy to the final mix, your chances of winning go way down. See, the 3 way at Hollow Bastion, you got a 33 1/3 chance of winning, but I got a 66 and 2/3 chance of winning, because Ansem KNOWS he can't beat me and he's not even gonna try!
1991
Vice: Project Doom's cover looks like something you'd see on a bootleg GI Joe box, and you'd be forgiven for dismissing it on sight as some cheap 8-bit crap not worth your time. I first came across it while watching Jeff Gertmann blow through some retro games on Giant Bomb dot com, a website that was, at one point, about video games. This is a good case of not judging something by its cover, because Project Doom has great presentation in-game, and backs it up with excellent gameplay and a surprising amount of variety.
Vice: Project Doom is broken into three distinct gameplay types: Overhead driving, shooting gallery, and Ninja Gaiden. The comparison gets brought up a lot because it's incredibly appropriate. If it weren't for these being countless other Ninja Gaiden derivatives on the system, I'd question how they got away with it. But what sets this game apart from the other knock offs is the developer's keen understanding of what makes Ninja Gaiden fun, while smartly ditching other elements that held those games back. None of the bosses feel like slowly punching down a brick wall like they do in the Gaiden games, for example, and the level design doesn't feel as punishing to go through after a game over.
The other two gameplay modes feel pretty fleshed out in their own right. The overhead driving segments are a lot of fun, and opening the game on one is a great way of immediately throwing the player into the action. It sets the tone and the pace of the game immediately. The shooting gallery sections might be my least favorite of the three types, but they're still solid for what they are (and probably a lot more fun with a light gun, assuming one works with the game, I have no idea.)
The story is presented exactly like it is in Ninja Gaiden, and it's every bit as insane. Aliens have been pulling the strings in our society for decades, but their food source, Gel, has begun to spread through the underworld as a street drug. Detective Hart, a vice cop, has to investigate the corporation the aliens use as a front. And by "investigate" I mean "shoot aliens indiscriminately" and also "commit untold amounts of vehicular manslaughter."
This was a very late era NES game, releasing in 1991 both in Japan and America. It definitely shows as the game really pushes the NES hardware, but I have to wonder how much more they could've gotten up to by making this a 16-bit game instead. Perhaps it's for the best that they didn't, as it's trying to emulate a very specific game. If NES action-platformers are your kind of game, then good news, you can play this on the Switch. Or pirate it! Detective Hart would probably shoot you dead if you so much as thought about it, but he lives in the video game and can't hurt you.
Vice: Project Doom is broken into three distinct gameplay types: Overhead driving, shooting gallery, and Ninja Gaiden. The comparison gets brought up a lot because it's incredibly appropriate. If it weren't for these being countless other Ninja Gaiden derivatives on the system, I'd question how they got away with it. But what sets this game apart from the other knock offs is the developer's keen understanding of what makes Ninja Gaiden fun, while smartly ditching other elements that held those games back. None of the bosses feel like slowly punching down a brick wall like they do in the Gaiden games, for example, and the level design doesn't feel as punishing to go through after a game over.
The other two gameplay modes feel pretty fleshed out in their own right. The overhead driving segments are a lot of fun, and opening the game on one is a great way of immediately throwing the player into the action. It sets the tone and the pace of the game immediately. The shooting gallery sections might be my least favorite of the three types, but they're still solid for what they are (and probably a lot more fun with a light gun, assuming one works with the game, I have no idea.)
The story is presented exactly like it is in Ninja Gaiden, and it's every bit as insane. Aliens have been pulling the strings in our society for decades, but their food source, Gel, has begun to spread through the underworld as a street drug. Detective Hart, a vice cop, has to investigate the corporation the aliens use as a front. And by "investigate" I mean "shoot aliens indiscriminately" and also "commit untold amounts of vehicular manslaughter."
This was a very late era NES game, releasing in 1991 both in Japan and America. It definitely shows as the game really pushes the NES hardware, but I have to wonder how much more they could've gotten up to by making this a 16-bit game instead. Perhaps it's for the best that they didn't, as it's trying to emulate a very specific game. If NES action-platformers are your kind of game, then good news, you can play this on the Switch. Or pirate it! Detective Hart would probably shoot you dead if you so much as thought about it, but he lives in the video game and can't hurt you.
1993
It is crazy to me that this is running on an NES and even crazier that they bothered to put out a Kirby NES game in 1993. Understandably, Kirby's Adventure doesn't exactly play nice with the hardware its running on and is plagued by slowdown. To a certain degree slowdown is just expected on the NES, but it can be pretty atrocious here. The trade off then is one of the most graphically impressive games on the system. Sprites are expressive and lovingly animated, scene transitions and minigames are adorable, and there's some great sprite rotation at a few points in the game.
It would be easy to dismiss Kirby's Adventure as a technical showpiece for the aged NES hardware, but it's pretty damn fun to play too, even if the copy abilities could use a bit of work. While I'd rather pick up some later entries into the series before playing Kirby's Adventure again, this is a seriously great NES game that pushes the boundaries of the hardware and still plays well enough to be a good time even today.
It would be easy to dismiss Kirby's Adventure as a technical showpiece for the aged NES hardware, but it's pretty damn fun to play too, even if the copy abilities could use a bit of work. While I'd rather pick up some later entries into the series before playing Kirby's Adventure again, this is a seriously great NES game that pushes the boundaries of the hardware and still plays well enough to be a good time even today.
1996
Looking at my notes, I finished Vice Project Doom, Kirby's Adventure, and Kirby Super Star all on the same day. They're not particularly long games, but my personal game journal is nothing if not irrefutable documentation that I don't have a life. This is especially chilling to me as Kirby Super Star is multiple Kirby games in one! At least that's what they tell you on the box. In truth, they're all pretty short, and while you'll walk away with a paltry playtime, at least none of them overstay their welcome.
Also this came out in 1996? What's with all these Kirby games coming out so late? Unlike Adventure, I wouldn't describe Super Star as being particularly impressive from a technical standpoint, but it is just about as fun. Overall the game modes here feel a bit half baked, but they're still enjoyable (with the exception of the Great Cave Offensive which stinks.) Milky Way Wishes and Revenge of Meta Knight are the two stand out modes, the former a more traditional Kirby adventure packed with some fun copy abilities, and the latter being a surprisingly exhilarating mode that places anti-work hero Kirby under a time limit to destroy Meta Knights ship before he "puts an end to Dreamland's lazy lifestyle." There's also Spring Breeze, which is an updated yet abridged version of Kirby's Dream Land. I've never played the original Dream Land so I don't have a good point of reference, but I thought this was a decent way to open up the game and I had a pretty good time with it.
There's a few competitive multiplayer modes, and they're fine for what they are, but not something you'll be putting a lot of time into. They're still cute though, and that's just something you can come to rely on with Kirby. Even at the series most lackluster, there's a real love for the character that shines through in how Kirby, his friends, and Dreamland itself are represented.
Kirby Super Star's various modes all toy with different ideas of what Kirby can be, but none of them fully commit in a way that makes those ideas feel as realized as they could be. To make an analogy that I feel is appropriate for Kirby, Super Star is like a buffet. There's a wide range of flavors you can sample, and a few of them are pretty good, but quantity takes priority over taste. Sometimes pigging out at a buffet is exactly what you want though, and if you find yourself in the mood to flit around between some fairly short Kirby themed experiences, you can't really go wrong with Kirby Super Star.
Also this came out in 1996? What's with all these Kirby games coming out so late? Unlike Adventure, I wouldn't describe Super Star as being particularly impressive from a technical standpoint, but it is just about as fun. Overall the game modes here feel a bit half baked, but they're still enjoyable (with the exception of the Great Cave Offensive which stinks.) Milky Way Wishes and Revenge of Meta Knight are the two stand out modes, the former a more traditional Kirby adventure packed with some fun copy abilities, and the latter being a surprisingly exhilarating mode that places anti-work hero Kirby under a time limit to destroy Meta Knights ship before he "puts an end to Dreamland's lazy lifestyle." There's also Spring Breeze, which is an updated yet abridged version of Kirby's Dream Land. I've never played the original Dream Land so I don't have a good point of reference, but I thought this was a decent way to open up the game and I had a pretty good time with it.
There's a few competitive multiplayer modes, and they're fine for what they are, but not something you'll be putting a lot of time into. They're still cute though, and that's just something you can come to rely on with Kirby. Even at the series most lackluster, there's a real love for the character that shines through in how Kirby, his friends, and Dreamland itself are represented.
Kirby Super Star's various modes all toy with different ideas of what Kirby can be, but none of them fully commit in a way that makes those ideas feel as realized as they could be. To make an analogy that I feel is appropriate for Kirby, Super Star is like a buffet. There's a wide range of flavors you can sample, and a few of them are pretty good, but quantity takes priority over taste. Sometimes pigging out at a buffet is exactly what you want though, and if you find yourself in the mood to flit around between some fairly short Kirby themed experiences, you can't really go wrong with Kirby Super Star.
1992
Hideo Kojima loves a good movie. This is made not only abundantly clear by the (at times overbearing) cinematic nature of his games, but as well in the frequent allusions he makes to his favorite films. I suppose that is the first thing that stands out to me about Snatcher, a game which is so very clearly a love letter to Blade Runner and cyberpunk as a whole. Protagonist Gillian Seed is a raunchy, satirical take on Harrison Ford's Deckard who exists in a world filled to the point of bursting with references to David Lynch, effects artist Rick Baker, and The Terminator among many, many others. The adventure is at times almost litigious in how much it cribs from other media (Random Hajile is such a dead ringer for Feyd-Rautha, Sting should be getting royalties), I'm not sure which skirts the line more, Snatcher or Policenauts.
Gillian and his estranged wife Jamie wake up amnesiacs, having been found near the point of origin for a biological weapon known as Lucifer-Alpha, which killed most of the global population. Hoping to unravel the mystery of their past, Gillian joins JUNKER ("Judgement Uninfected Naked Kind & Execute Ranger" or "Japanese Undercover Neuro-Kinetic Elimination Rangers" depending on your region), an agency tasked with hunting bioroids known as Snatchers, who have been killing and replacing members of society to carry out a larger conspiracy.
As an adventure game, Snatcher is the perfect vehicle for Kojima's voice to shine through. Granted it does about as powerfully as a flood light, but when you compare this to his previous games it's hard to deny that this was the jumping off point for his particular brand of storytelling. The main story is rich with conspiracy and intrigue, nukes and global catastrophe, all told from the perspective of the finest collection of weirdo freaks this side of FOXHOUND. When not chipping away at Snatcher's overarching mystery, you can steep yourself in the history and culture of Neo Kobe City, which is surprisingly fleshed out. I usually don't get so immersed in a game's world, but the sheer scope of optional scenes and dialog is on par with Metal Gear Solid's codec conversations. I found myself compelled to click on absolutely everything in a scene just to wring the most I could from this game.
Kojima's puerile and abstract sense of humor is present as well. Gillian can hit on every breathing female he encounters, call up 1-900 numbers, or go get a slice of Neo Kobe Pizza (which involves dunking a slice into some soup. It's a delicacy, shut up.) The Outer Heaven club is packed with Konami characters, including Rocket Knight and Goemon, and your partner is Metal Gear Mk. II, a remnant of the "Metal Gear menace of the 21st century." There's definitely a lot of flavor here. However, there's also something to be said about Kojima's depiction of women, and how at times the childish sense of humor that colors his games result in some pretty offensive situations and depictions. Kojima has struggled with this his entire career, but it's definitely more prevalent in his earlier work. Comparatively, Policenauts is far more guilty about this than Snatcher, but be aware going in that it's still a problem.
Unlike the story, there's nothing quite so audacious about the gameplay. To be fair, when Snatcher was first released in 1988, Kojima was still establishing himself as a game designer. This is a fairly rote point-and-click adventure game. It thankfully avoids being as obtuse as other adventure games, especially of its era, but it's far from revolutionary.
At a few points in the story you're thrown into a shooting gallery, which is maybe the most "gamified" part of Snatcher. These were clearly designed around a light gun, but since I emulated the game I wound up using a regular controller. I do, however, have a copy of Policenauts and a Stunner, and if it's anything like that... well, it's safe to say it's not reinventing the wheel either. These shooting galleries are few and far between, and function to get the player more engaged in Snatcher's set pieces, but there's ultimately so few of them that I don't think they add a whole lot to the experience.
I've often wondered what kind of games I'd want to make if I had the wherewithal to get into game design, and I think where I've settled is that something that combines the adventure/visual novel qualities of Snatcher and the gameplay of early Shin Megami Tensei is my ideal. Perhaps that just says something about me wanting to fill the areas where Snatcher left me wanting with something else I am otherwise as enthralled by. I don't know. What I'm sure of is that Snatcher made an impact on me more than I was expecting it to, and despite some lackluster gameplay elements and a few bad story elements, it's in tight competition with Metal Gear Solid for my favorite Kojima game, and easily breaks my top five favorite games of all time.
Gillian and his estranged wife Jamie wake up amnesiacs, having been found near the point of origin for a biological weapon known as Lucifer-Alpha, which killed most of the global population. Hoping to unravel the mystery of their past, Gillian joins JUNKER ("Judgement Uninfected Naked Kind & Execute Ranger" or "Japanese Undercover Neuro-Kinetic Elimination Rangers" depending on your region), an agency tasked with hunting bioroids known as Snatchers, who have been killing and replacing members of society to carry out a larger conspiracy.
As an adventure game, Snatcher is the perfect vehicle for Kojima's voice to shine through. Granted it does about as powerfully as a flood light, but when you compare this to his previous games it's hard to deny that this was the jumping off point for his particular brand of storytelling. The main story is rich with conspiracy and intrigue, nukes and global catastrophe, all told from the perspective of the finest collection of weirdo freaks this side of FOXHOUND. When not chipping away at Snatcher's overarching mystery, you can steep yourself in the history and culture of Neo Kobe City, which is surprisingly fleshed out. I usually don't get so immersed in a game's world, but the sheer scope of optional scenes and dialog is on par with Metal Gear Solid's codec conversations. I found myself compelled to click on absolutely everything in a scene just to wring the most I could from this game.
Kojima's puerile and abstract sense of humor is present as well. Gillian can hit on every breathing female he encounters, call up 1-900 numbers, or go get a slice of Neo Kobe Pizza (which involves dunking a slice into some soup. It's a delicacy, shut up.) The Outer Heaven club is packed with Konami characters, including Rocket Knight and Goemon, and your partner is Metal Gear Mk. II, a remnant of the "Metal Gear menace of the 21st century." There's definitely a lot of flavor here. However, there's also something to be said about Kojima's depiction of women, and how at times the childish sense of humor that colors his games result in some pretty offensive situations and depictions. Kojima has struggled with this his entire career, but it's definitely more prevalent in his earlier work. Comparatively, Policenauts is far more guilty about this than Snatcher, but be aware going in that it's still a problem.
Unlike the story, there's nothing quite so audacious about the gameplay. To be fair, when Snatcher was first released in 1988, Kojima was still establishing himself as a game designer. This is a fairly rote point-and-click adventure game. It thankfully avoids being as obtuse as other adventure games, especially of its era, but it's far from revolutionary.
At a few points in the story you're thrown into a shooting gallery, which is maybe the most "gamified" part of Snatcher. These were clearly designed around a light gun, but since I emulated the game I wound up using a regular controller. I do, however, have a copy of Policenauts and a Stunner, and if it's anything like that... well, it's safe to say it's not reinventing the wheel either. These shooting galleries are few and far between, and function to get the player more engaged in Snatcher's set pieces, but there's ultimately so few of them that I don't think they add a whole lot to the experience.
I've often wondered what kind of games I'd want to make if I had the wherewithal to get into game design, and I think where I've settled is that something that combines the adventure/visual novel qualities of Snatcher and the gameplay of early Shin Megami Tensei is my ideal. Perhaps that just says something about me wanting to fill the areas where Snatcher left me wanting with something else I am otherwise as enthralled by. I don't know. What I'm sure of is that Snatcher made an impact on me more than I was expecting it to, and despite some lackluster gameplay elements and a few bad story elements, it's in tight competition with Metal Gear Solid for my favorite Kojima game, and easily breaks my top five favorite games of all time.
Crawling through the sands of Afghanistan and baking in the the oil drenched humidity of Africa makes The Phantom Pain the perfect Summer game to lock yourself in with, escaping from the heat by stewing under the sweltering virtual sun of Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear swan song. I first played this on PC, but was so swept up in the hype that I just had to have the collector's edition as well. While all the extra curios that came with it certainly look nice on my shelf, I never did bother to pop the Playstation 4 version of the game in to see how it compares until now.
Granted it's been a while, but the most immediate thing that leaps out to me about The Phantom Pain that doesn't gel with my previous experience is how buggy it is. Enemy AI routines are frequently disrupted, causing mission targets to loop into and out of vehicles, fail to initiate dialog, or trigger events that progress the mission overall. This becomes especially frustrating if you're like me and you suffer from a horrible compulsion to platinum games you already have on other platforms just because you know you can. I don't recall ever having any significant issues knocking out mission tasks or obtaining S ranks on PC, but on console I flat out gave up. There's just too much working against the flow of the game that it reduces most tasks to dumb luck. Either the AI will cooperate, or it will go dog dumb on you.
Unfortunately, I found that restarting from a checkpoint usually doesn't alleviate these issues, and if a target's AI goes completely haywire the only reliable way to correct it is returning to the ACC and redeploying, which brings me to a gripe I have with The Phantom Pain that is more structural in nature. Every time you start a mission or side op that deploys you into an area of operation, you have to sit around on your helicopter and chill out for like, a full minute before your feet can touch the ground. Now add multiple loading screens on top of that and, well, you better bring something to read.
On PC, loading times were lightning fast, but on console they're downright glacial. Perhaps I'm already spoiled by the Playstation 5's SSD, but compared to other PS4 games I've enjoyed on the PS5, the wait in MGSV is interminable. This even extends to menus on the iDroid, with individual screens taking several seconds to load up. God help you if you need to call in a supply drop during a mission, you're liable to get caught if you aren't hidden well enough due to how long it takes to putz around in menus.
Now this is where I throw up a big fat asterisk, because I've never played this game on Playstation 4 hardware. Instead, I'm playing it on the Playstation 5, which as far as I'm aware, the game has no specific optimization for. It runs, sure, and the framerate seems pretty good overall, but the glitches and issues with loading times I encountered could be due to some compatibility weirdness, maybe. I don't know. I have nothing to substantiate this other than the fact that I don't remember things being this rough on PC. Unfortunately, I just don't see Konami ever doing a current-gen update to this game.
That said, there's still a lot about The Phantom Pain that I think holds up! Missions are structured in a way that encourages creative approaches. Where you drop in, what buddies you take with you, your tool set and infiltration point are all up to you. You can absolutely get by with just a silenced pistol and a sniper rifle, but the open-ended nature of The Phantom Pain gives you an unprecedented amount of control over how you approach the game in a series that's well known for encouraging experimentation. Stealth feels feels better than it ever has. Mission locations are playgrounds that are a joy to sneak through, though I did have to leave reflex mode on during the early game given how much the camera likes to hug to Snake's shapely ass when indoors. This is alleviated once you have D-Dog, who marks enemies and traps for you, or the sonar, which outs the last known location of surrounding enemies, both of which you get pretty early. The more gadgets and buddies you add to your arsenal, the more fun it is to go back to previous missions and improve your times, which gives this game a lot of replayability.
When not taking on missions you can manage Mother Base by assigning staff members to specific divisions and building new facilities. This eventually opens up into a sort of Souls-like multiplayer mode where you can invade other player's bases, rob them of crew and resources, and generally make their lives miserable. I actually like this mode quite a bit, and the level of control that was later patched in allows you to fine tune your defenses to be absolute hell for invaders. I could honestly waste a lot of hours making my platforms death traps if I allow myself.
However, one draw back is that having your resources stolen can really put a hurt on you when it comes to developing new items intended for the single player portion of the game. You can avoid this entirely by never invading another player (which in turn makes it so you cannot be invaded) or by purchasing POF insurance, which is a scam. Something I came to realize on this second playthrough of The Phantom Pain is how this game is a ticking time bomb. Resources and GMP are split between what's available in single player and what's stored online, and the division between what's accessible on and off the server is grossly skewed towards needing a stable internet connection. I'm talking 80% of your GMP just vanishing if your internet cuts out. You can still play through story missions, sure, but good luck building any new weapons or constructing base platforms. When this game inevitably goes offline, these lost resources will be the true phantom pain.
Of course I can't end this review without talking about the elephant in the room: The Phantom Pain's story. I often see this game described as being the best game in the series, but the worst Metal Gear. Which is to say it's the most fun to play but is completely lacking in the idiosyncrasies that series is known for. There are no overwrought hour long cutscenes, no unique quirky codec conversations, and the story isn't an untangleable knot of conspiracies in the way past games have been. While some plot elements like the vocal chord parasites or The Man on Fire are definitely drenched in the typical Metal Gear weirdness, The Phantom Pain tells perhaps the most grounded story in the series since Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake. It is surprisingly restrained, with hours of gameplay exceeding the hours of story you might come to expect from Kojima. Personally, I really like this balance. MGSV has a great flow to it, with story being metered out at the perfect times. My one complaint, really, is that too many key details are given in cassette tapes, and while in theory this means you can absorb the story while playing the game, I found more often than not I needed to just listen to them in ACC or else I wouldn't be able to pick up on audio cues from nearby enemies during missions.
Actually, I do have one other complaint about the story: it's not finished. This is well known, but the game is missing its last act, leaving a few important plot threads hanging. The game just kinda... ends, and it does so in a way that's very unsatisfying. There is no gratifying conclusion to the themes, problems or questions that the story sets up. There's plenty of videos and articles diving into the rift between Kojima and Konami, and plenty to be said about how this real world divide between long time partners reflects in The Phantom Pain both narratively and in how the final product ended up. It's not worth getting into here, though part of what made me want to play this game again was finding out that there's still an active community trying to unravel the mysteries of MGSV's lost act. I think it's insane that there are some out there who think it can actually be unlocked, that there's some part of this game that hasn't been exposed through years of datamining, that there is in fact an ending to be had if just the right conditions are met. There isn't. It simply is not there, cut off and abandoned like a dead limb long ago. Like one's lust for revenge, the only way to heal is to let go. Kojima and Konami certainly didn't plan it that way, but there's something kind of poetic about the obsession that drives fans of this game even today.
While this is certainly not how I wanted to see the series (at least under Kojima's creative vision) end, and while I definitely do have some serious grievances with technical elements of the game, I still really like The Phantom Pain. It's often on sale for around five bucks bundled with Ground Zeroes, and you can't go wrong for that price, but if you have the option to play it on PC then definitely go with that.
Huey is the biggest piece of shit who ever lived, 3.5/5.
Granted it's been a while, but the most immediate thing that leaps out to me about The Phantom Pain that doesn't gel with my previous experience is how buggy it is. Enemy AI routines are frequently disrupted, causing mission targets to loop into and out of vehicles, fail to initiate dialog, or trigger events that progress the mission overall. This becomes especially frustrating if you're like me and you suffer from a horrible compulsion to platinum games you already have on other platforms just because you know you can. I don't recall ever having any significant issues knocking out mission tasks or obtaining S ranks on PC, but on console I flat out gave up. There's just too much working against the flow of the game that it reduces most tasks to dumb luck. Either the AI will cooperate, or it will go dog dumb on you.
Unfortunately, I found that restarting from a checkpoint usually doesn't alleviate these issues, and if a target's AI goes completely haywire the only reliable way to correct it is returning to the ACC and redeploying, which brings me to a gripe I have with The Phantom Pain that is more structural in nature. Every time you start a mission or side op that deploys you into an area of operation, you have to sit around on your helicopter and chill out for like, a full minute before your feet can touch the ground. Now add multiple loading screens on top of that and, well, you better bring something to read.
On PC, loading times were lightning fast, but on console they're downright glacial. Perhaps I'm already spoiled by the Playstation 5's SSD, but compared to other PS4 games I've enjoyed on the PS5, the wait in MGSV is interminable. This even extends to menus on the iDroid, with individual screens taking several seconds to load up. God help you if you need to call in a supply drop during a mission, you're liable to get caught if you aren't hidden well enough due to how long it takes to putz around in menus.
Now this is where I throw up a big fat asterisk, because I've never played this game on Playstation 4 hardware. Instead, I'm playing it on the Playstation 5, which as far as I'm aware, the game has no specific optimization for. It runs, sure, and the framerate seems pretty good overall, but the glitches and issues with loading times I encountered could be due to some compatibility weirdness, maybe. I don't know. I have nothing to substantiate this other than the fact that I don't remember things being this rough on PC. Unfortunately, I just don't see Konami ever doing a current-gen update to this game.
That said, there's still a lot about The Phantom Pain that I think holds up! Missions are structured in a way that encourages creative approaches. Where you drop in, what buddies you take with you, your tool set and infiltration point are all up to you. You can absolutely get by with just a silenced pistol and a sniper rifle, but the open-ended nature of The Phantom Pain gives you an unprecedented amount of control over how you approach the game in a series that's well known for encouraging experimentation. Stealth feels feels better than it ever has. Mission locations are playgrounds that are a joy to sneak through, though I did have to leave reflex mode on during the early game given how much the camera likes to hug to Snake's shapely ass when indoors. This is alleviated once you have D-Dog, who marks enemies and traps for you, or the sonar, which outs the last known location of surrounding enemies, both of which you get pretty early. The more gadgets and buddies you add to your arsenal, the more fun it is to go back to previous missions and improve your times, which gives this game a lot of replayability.
When not taking on missions you can manage Mother Base by assigning staff members to specific divisions and building new facilities. This eventually opens up into a sort of Souls-like multiplayer mode where you can invade other player's bases, rob them of crew and resources, and generally make their lives miserable. I actually like this mode quite a bit, and the level of control that was later patched in allows you to fine tune your defenses to be absolute hell for invaders. I could honestly waste a lot of hours making my platforms death traps if I allow myself.
However, one draw back is that having your resources stolen can really put a hurt on you when it comes to developing new items intended for the single player portion of the game. You can avoid this entirely by never invading another player (which in turn makes it so you cannot be invaded) or by purchasing POF insurance, which is a scam. Something I came to realize on this second playthrough of The Phantom Pain is how this game is a ticking time bomb. Resources and GMP are split between what's available in single player and what's stored online, and the division between what's accessible on and off the server is grossly skewed towards needing a stable internet connection. I'm talking 80% of your GMP just vanishing if your internet cuts out. You can still play through story missions, sure, but good luck building any new weapons or constructing base platforms. When this game inevitably goes offline, these lost resources will be the true phantom pain.
Of course I can't end this review without talking about the elephant in the room: The Phantom Pain's story. I often see this game described as being the best game in the series, but the worst Metal Gear. Which is to say it's the most fun to play but is completely lacking in the idiosyncrasies that series is known for. There are no overwrought hour long cutscenes, no unique quirky codec conversations, and the story isn't an untangleable knot of conspiracies in the way past games have been. While some plot elements like the vocal chord parasites or The Man on Fire are definitely drenched in the typical Metal Gear weirdness, The Phantom Pain tells perhaps the most grounded story in the series since Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake. It is surprisingly restrained, with hours of gameplay exceeding the hours of story you might come to expect from Kojima. Personally, I really like this balance. MGSV has a great flow to it, with story being metered out at the perfect times. My one complaint, really, is that too many key details are given in cassette tapes, and while in theory this means you can absorb the story while playing the game, I found more often than not I needed to just listen to them in ACC or else I wouldn't be able to pick up on audio cues from nearby enemies during missions.
Actually, I do have one other complaint about the story: it's not finished. This is well known, but the game is missing its last act, leaving a few important plot threads hanging. The game just kinda... ends, and it does so in a way that's very unsatisfying. There is no gratifying conclusion to the themes, problems or questions that the story sets up. There's plenty of videos and articles diving into the rift between Kojima and Konami, and plenty to be said about how this real world divide between long time partners reflects in The Phantom Pain both narratively and in how the final product ended up. It's not worth getting into here, though part of what made me want to play this game again was finding out that there's still an active community trying to unravel the mysteries of MGSV's lost act. I think it's insane that there are some out there who think it can actually be unlocked, that there's some part of this game that hasn't been exposed through years of datamining, that there is in fact an ending to be had if just the right conditions are met. There isn't. It simply is not there, cut off and abandoned like a dead limb long ago. Like one's lust for revenge, the only way to heal is to let go. Kojima and Konami certainly didn't plan it that way, but there's something kind of poetic about the obsession that drives fans of this game even today.
While this is certainly not how I wanted to see the series (at least under Kojima's creative vision) end, and while I definitely do have some serious grievances with technical elements of the game, I still really like The Phantom Pain. It's often on sale for around five bucks bundled with Ground Zeroes, and you can't go wrong for that price, but if you have the option to play it on PC then definitely go with that.
Huey is the biggest piece of shit who ever lived, 3.5/5.
I have a lot of nostalgia for the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, and having recently picked up the complete series while it was dirt cheap and the full line of 1/6 Threezero figures while they were decidedly NOT dirt cheap, it's safe to say I'm still a fan today. I've even given the original Zyuranger a shot, and would easily recommend at least checking out the first episode if you have any familiarity with the Mighty Morphin series. Rita Repulsa (known as Bandora overseas) rides around on a flying bike and talks about how she hates kids. There's a whole sequence that's one marble bust shy of being a vaporwave album cover, it's pretty good!
Mighty Morphin Power Rangers for the SNES is a blind spot for me, one piece of media that I never really got to experience back during the height of 90s Rangers mania. I recall playing a small amount at a friend's house before his mom had to take it back to the video store. We hung out the whole day and I remember her coming back with Ren & Stimpy: Fire Dogs.
Compared to Fire Dogs, this game is great, but in a vacuum it's just kinda alright. Unlike Power Rangers: The Movie for the Sega Genesis (a game I am much more familiar with and will get to shortly) MMPR for the SNES is an action-platformer. Both are perfectly appropriate styles if your goal is to make a 16-bit adaptation of the show, and each have their own strengths and weaknesses as a result. Sprites are large and very detailed, and levels are invocative of the the show, and by extension the garish aesthetics of the early 1990s. Controls feel pretty good and each Ranger plays differently enough that it encourages you to switch things up. I'd almost liken it to the TMNT brawlers in that each character offers their own flavor while still being similar enough that you can get by sticking to your favorite.
Platforming and combat are fine, but nothing too remarkable. If anything, this game's strongest suit is its boss battles. The monster-of-the-week goons you face at the end of each level look great, and facing off against them is a blast. It definitely gave me something to look forward to each level. The soundtrack is also solid, though it doesn't quite compare to the Genesis sound font adding some much needed grime to the riff of the Power Rangers theme song.
Zack's sprite is super racist. I never picked up on this as a kid because I was too young and dumb to really understand what was offensive about it, but as an adult it was pretty arresting to see what they were trying to get away with. Especially gutting as Zack is my favorite Ranger and as such was the first character I picked. On the other hand, Trini is in tight competition for that top spot and I find it hilarious that her Ranger sprite is buff as hell. Which, hey, at least that's somewhat true to the show.
I suspect my nostalgia is carrying me a long way with this game, and even then it's not so overpowering as to render me blind to MMPR's quality. It's alright, but if you have zero affinity for Power Rangers you probably won't find a whole lot to like about it.
Mighty Morphin Power Rangers for the SNES is a blind spot for me, one piece of media that I never really got to experience back during the height of 90s Rangers mania. I recall playing a small amount at a friend's house before his mom had to take it back to the video store. We hung out the whole day and I remember her coming back with Ren & Stimpy: Fire Dogs.
Compared to Fire Dogs, this game is great, but in a vacuum it's just kinda alright. Unlike Power Rangers: The Movie for the Sega Genesis (a game I am much more familiar with and will get to shortly) MMPR for the SNES is an action-platformer. Both are perfectly appropriate styles if your goal is to make a 16-bit adaptation of the show, and each have their own strengths and weaknesses as a result. Sprites are large and very detailed, and levels are invocative of the the show, and by extension the garish aesthetics of the early 1990s. Controls feel pretty good and each Ranger plays differently enough that it encourages you to switch things up. I'd almost liken it to the TMNT brawlers in that each character offers their own flavor while still being similar enough that you can get by sticking to your favorite.
Platforming and combat are fine, but nothing too remarkable. If anything, this game's strongest suit is its boss battles. The monster-of-the-week goons you face at the end of each level look great, and facing off against them is a blast. It definitely gave me something to look forward to each level. The soundtrack is also solid, though it doesn't quite compare to the Genesis sound font adding some much needed grime to the riff of the Power Rangers theme song.
Zack's sprite is super racist. I never picked up on this as a kid because I was too young and dumb to really understand what was offensive about it, but as an adult it was pretty arresting to see what they were trying to get away with. Especially gutting as Zack is my favorite Ranger and as such was the first character I picked. On the other hand, Trini is in tight competition for that top spot and I find it hilarious that her Ranger sprite is buff as hell. Which, hey, at least that's somewhat true to the show.
I suspect my nostalgia is carrying me a long way with this game, and even then it's not so overpowering as to render me blind to MMPR's quality. It's alright, but if you have zero affinity for Power Rangers you probably won't find a whole lot to like about it.