My first introduction to Banjo Kazooie was in the E3 2019 Nintendo Direct when he was revealed for Smash. I had no idea who this character was or what the series was about, I just knew that a LOT of people were happy they made it, and I couldn't understand why. But having finally played the game I now understand the tears of the people that flow from the lack of this series in the modern day, they are now my tears as well.

The gameplay in Banjo Kazooie is simply phenomenal. The titular duo's moveset is extremely varied and gives you everything you need to master the game with. It never really felt like I hit a wall because of it, if there was a puzzle to solve I was always certain that I had what I needed to solve it at my disposal and the game rewarded me for that. On top of that the platforming is pure joy, the perfect mix of challenge and fun. And then there's just the collectathon structure this game employs to an excellent degree. In any other 3D platformer I would feel content just to get the objectives required to beat the game, but because collecting things in Banjo Kazooie is just so damn satisfying I found myself collecting everything. 100% completing this game not only felt really satisfying but it also felt like the intended way to play the game and enhanced the experience ten times more than it would have been if I just did the bare minimum required.

The other main thing I want to talk about here is the game's presentation. Despite being an N64 game I feel like Banjo Kazooie has held up incredibly well. The game's visual style, world, tone, and sound design are all just so damn charming. There's so much to love here, from all the charming characters and the funny dialogue between them, to the oddly kinda edgy sense of humor the game has (at least for an E rated game) like when they said Gruntilda does a striptease or when Kazooie heavily implied she was gonna shove a key up someone's ass, just jokes that I laughed a lot at because I had no idea how they got away with them. The worlds here are very unique and interesting as well. There are of course some stinkers (looking at you Bubblegloop Swamp) but for the most parts these environments are just interesting and fun in concept and a blast to actually explore yourself. They take basic level themes and add the game's charm to them to make some truly great levels that are some of the best I've ever played in a platformer.

Overall, Banjo Kazooie is a classic game that's well loved for a reason. The game's charm, pristine level design, and incredibly fun gameplay cycle kept me engaged and addicted the whole way through and turned me into a fan of this character and this series that I priorly couldn't care less about.

SUPERHOT.

What matters is what happens between these two words.

SUPERHOT.

It wants to peel back the layers of your skull.

SUPERHOT.

Feast on my flesh until nothing remains.

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3 thoughts on SUPER[SUPER]HOT.

Mind - Katana reveals all; the swift executions and parry-play are at the essence of what works within this new framework of roguelike repetition because it prevents the action from jerking-off in bullet-time. The staccato begins to act in service of rhythmic motions where physicality is no longer a disembodied affair of firearms and trajectories locating the feedback loop in the anonymity of manikins instead putting our ever-fragile avatar at the center of the violence in ways that renders the thrills of deletion by putting emphasis on the cut. Distances and deflections. How to bridge the gap between the two. Invoking. Channeling. SUPERHOT.

Control - Hacks.exe; they elevate the core systems without rendering the whole ugly. It’s impossible to escape the allure of the metagame. “Killheal.hack” and “Lightreflex.hack” are kings. And kings do not matter in sequences whose escalating difficulty so clearly correlates with the aesthetics of kinesthesia - strategies are established in style before substance, a perfect action-run framed in replays, so challenge is (and must remain) a modular canvas here. Strong back-half. Exhausting waves met with zen. Repress the urge to shatter - obsidian is thy weapon. Sliced rubies and broken ores. A mist of forms. I wish the experience went further. I wish I didn’t have so many choices. I wish I could look somewhere else than myself by being tied to the grazing of bullets and the compression of space. At its purest SUPERHOT triggers like a reversion of time itself; me, knowing the momentum of damage and enemies so completely that I can speedrun the game. Play it, actually, at a regular pace. Ain’t that something. A slow game, but present.

Delete - Self-vore; masturbartory reflexivity bores me. But SUPERHOT was so close. Its gradual subtraction of every expansions made to the original concept pushes past the cringe by committing to a proper state of powerlessness. But at the end of each stage, when vision itself has been euthanized and verbs stripped away from the player, we’re given the option to give up. Press [E] to access the text. The game should have left us to rot in there. Let the player figure out new ways to still assert dominance over its environment in the absence of tools to do so. The game’s not inventive enough - in both mechanics and level-design - to do that. A shame. All that’s left, then, is a language only dispensed by the screen - our usual one-way mirrors. Ten minutes of me pressing [E] to get the syllables drooling out of my mouth. Sweet nothingness lost in Amygdalatropolis. Yelling that same sentence into the void.

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

HOT

SUPER

[Just a hollow sense of progression and power]

HOT.