The turn of the millennium brought with a barrage of interesting creative explorations and reexaminations, yet this was seemingly the norm for a company like Sega. In the midst of their pestilent financial strain, they were steadily supporting their avant-garde Phantasy Star Online, funding the development of Tetsuya Mizuguchi's Rez, and most voguishly, developing their Dreamcast magnum opus, Sonic Adventure 2. Rollicking in the shadow of these extravagant plans however, was a more conservative scheme; to save themselves from certain bankruptcy they would transition towards developing titles as a third party. Sonic Team and Dimps would collaborate to produce one of the first games under this endeavor, Sonic Advance. It acted as a return to form of sorts, the Genesis resonance can be picked up from anywhere. For a market growing progressively estranged with the franchise and Sega in its totality, it was a welcomed pip-stop between the company's more adventurous outings. The series would run on for two more entries, but this wouldn't be an early-2000s Sega game if it had stayed true to its humble beginnings.
No, in truth Dimps had plans to retool the fundamentals of 2D Sonic's design scheme for their individual liking. Immediately after the release of Advance 1, Dimps began envisioning a Sonic where speed is the constant, not the reward. A more static take on 2D Sonic if you will, where the objective is not to navigate complex level geometry at whatever pace you so desire but to traverse it at one set voltage. This design philosophy would materialize in Advance 2 mechanic Boost Mode, a speed condition in which you break the established speed cap and enter a light-state, with level geometry built over five times the length of Advance 1's in accommodation. What was an arguably less nuanced riff on the design ethos of old unsuspectingly became the primogenitor of the design scheme Sonic would run with for years on end: the boost. Just a short few years later and we would arrive at the modern interpretation of the boost, Sonic Rush.
No composer embodies the boost ethos quite like Hideki Naganuma. Naganuma's soundscapes consist of a diverse melting pot of techno, hip-hop, punk, and rap influences that amalgamate together to form this addicting, animated ambiance. His arrangements carry themselves in such a confident manner, effortlessly formulating an indelible flavor. He's never abashed to bring all harmony to a halt and veer far off the deep end, with every tangent managing to stick the landing. His hooks are an anthem that resonates with the mere thought of his works, thus its only natural that he'd worked on a game as vivacious as him. Between his technical rhythms and sampled hooks, he brings the meager capabilities of the DS sound chip to its zenith. In a franchise already lauded for its marvelous soundtracks, Naganuma's work on Rush manages to plant itself as supreme. Not yet has the franchises topped the harmonics of Raisin' Me Up, nor the technicality of Back 2 Back, that reverberated the world of Sonic Rush.
A world that is ironically rather banal relative to its forefathers, that is. With the exception of Water Palace, the zone locales, while conceptionally and mechanically dissimilar, are a sterilized repeat of the zones of old. Its creative bankruptcy is extrapolated further in relation to the cyberspaces, musical theme parks, and undersea bases of its GBA progenitors. Even them maintaining their pixel art bravura, their grandeur is neutralized by the crude presence of 3D models. Regardless of rather this was a consequence of a staunch desire to showcase the DS' hardware or the product of an egregious one-year development cycle, it stoves away the visual coherency the Advance series once relished in. All it does is robs an already cut-and-dry world of the grace of its more minute subtleties.
But even in all its platitude, there is still two points of interest here. The game's scenario is split into two perspectives, one in which in you follow Sonic's quest to thwart another one of Dr. Eggman's schemes and another where you inhibit the devote princess of another dimension, Blaze the Cat, on her quest to retrieve her world's enigmatic Sol Emeralds. Both scenarios pit their stars through the same acts armed with a similar mechanical toolkit, most of their distinctions lie in the superficial realm. Sonic's partition acts as the baseline, whereas Blaze's remixes it. Whereas Sonic's themes are Naganuma's original score, Blaze's compositions are twee re-arrangements of Naganuma's original score composed by Teruhiko Nakagawa. When Sonic's script goes through the motions of your usual Sonic narrative, Blaze's script takes her on a trip around an alien world as she progressively learns how to open up and trust others. The most substantial difference between the two runners lies in their level order; Sonic follows the natural difficulty curve while Blaze's sequence takes her on an unorthodox path that feels coarse in contrast. Most players are going to gravitate towards the honorary namesake regardless, but the game's intentions are clear; play Sonic first, then play Blaze second.
Whatever personality you go with, the elephant remains in the room. Dimps has partnered with Sonic Team numerous times over the years, and eventually their joint projects amassed a notoriety. A notoriety not stemming from a place of culture wars nonsense like your usual Sonic discourse, something far more terminal; their level design tendencies. The motif featured across all of Dimps' Sonic works is a proneness for sleazy level geometry that punishes you for unforeseeable mistakes. Spikes planted precisely where a player can regrettably land, platforming segments levitating above long, bottomless chasms, enemies deposited right on an otherwise innocent slope; this tendency has plagued the Advance series since its inception and Dimps' other works don't fare much better in this regard. Worst of all, what you're left with after attempting to make a genuine effort to engage with these games is monotonous, dull level design that besmirches the 2D Sonic games of old by being likened to. Consequently, audiences now approach Dimps' games with an aura of caution, and Sonic Rush is no different.
Sonic Rush leaves a better initial impression than the Dimps of old, spikes are less prevalent and the extra screen space gives leeway to more apparent danger, but the bar for sophisticated game design is far higher than the one Dimps set for themselves. They're not scrutinizing the failings of their past, they're just watering it down. All their routine habits are still there, they just have "less" adjoined to them. There are still moments where you have to suddenly stop and platform over an endless abyss, but there's less of it. You still land directly on a spike sometimes, yet there's less of it. Regardless of how much "less" Dimps affixes to their level geometry, it's all still there, and it all still stings. If one were to craft an enjoyment curve for Rush, it would be vulgar, ragged curves of mild highs and deep lows. Multiply those lows by two for every instance of Sonic's lack of real aerial control a la Blaze cruising towards their death or Sonic's depreciated homing attack leading to they themselves getting hit.
Perhaps in yet another attempt to showcase the power of the DS hardware, some characteristics of Rush are uniquely gross compared to the Advance series. The nine bosses featured in Rush are some of the most abominable sections it has to offer. Their attack patterns are complete RNG, and their toolset tends to feature one or more attacks that exist solely to stall out the player whilst they're in a state of invulnerability. Thusly most fights turn a drab test of patience, as the boss loops the same twenty-second attack three times over. Their attacks are not involved nor diverse enough to warrant the five minutes it takes to slowly wheedle their health down to zero. It only goes to aggravate an experience that already feels nauseating to play engage with even in short bursts.
Yet, when I started Blaze's story, a mental switch flipped on. While the bosses were still obnoxious, there was this return I never received for investing in the Advance series. Having had made mental notes of each little gameplay quirk, I started discerning the level design through a more pragmatic lens. Beyond their abrasive shortcomings, there was some meticulously crafted level design here. Learning the ins and outs of the level geometry felt gratifying, and very soon I was attempting to go for S-Ranks. Another switch trickled on, and suddenly I started feeling an electrification. The game's subtleties grew more pronounced and they started fueling my rush further. I went back and nabbed all the Chaos Emeralds in what might be my favorite incarnation of the Special Stages and beat the true final boss. Still, I kept grinding S-Rank attempts, eventually I ended up S-Ranking over half of the game. Finally I was getting Sonic Rush.
The most prominent quality of Sonic Rush is its intensely exhilarating game feel. The boost alone does a phenomenal job in supplying kineticism. It bears an invaluable instant action-and-reaction, allowing the player to burst ahead regardless of their current velocity. What's more galvanizing is, when held, it blitzes through any enemy capriciously, abolishing all obstacles between you and the level geometry itself. Its powers run on a limited resource however, a resource I'll colloquially dub Tension. Tension can be acquired by destroying enemies or taking advantage of tricks. Each upward spring, incline, or rail presents an opportunity to mount Tension by executing a series of tricks, these acrobatics being your primary source of Tension. When the Tension Gauge inevitably peaks, it grants a temporal surge of unlimited Tension, lasting so long as Tension is habitually being attained. The inclusion of a rank system that judges both Tension scored and time lapped thusly elevates the game from a trial of survivability to a full-on conundrum. How can you optimize accumulated Tension whilst reaching the goal in due time? With this, we arrive at the actualization of the design thesis has been building upon since Advance 2: boost to win.
This ethos transcends being a mere mechanical mantra, it is the very backbone to each of its finer intricacies. Even delicately engaging the boost button erupts the soundscape into a flurry of noise. Held down, enemies will rocket off-screen like a paperweight, Tension Gauge gleaming. Launch off a diagonal spring and soak in the barrage of applause and accolades as you perform a sequence of stunts. Tension finally reached max capacity, gaining you and your gauge a golden aura and the chimes chirp higher and the raves roar louder. That ubiquitous coin above your gauge wheels in hysteria. You're in The Zone, you gotta keep running. The cheers can't end. Are you even on S-Rank pace? Should I be performing less tricks? Can't think now, you're going too fast to keep up. Boost to win. Every little garnish is devoted to intoxicating the senses, and it's this flow quality that is quintessential to Dimps' dogma.
I was shocked by my gradual appreciation of Sonic Rush. Despite my dismal first playthrough and my apprehension towards even touching the game, I stuck with it despite my better judgment and got a healthy payoff. It's sure as hell not for everyone. I can't fault anyone for bouncing off the game after only a handful of zones given Dimps' track record, but in spite of its multitude of failings there's some fascinating game design at play here that deserves attention. I don't think there's any purpose in me recommending Sonic Rush, it's one of those games that sits at a niche so exclusive that only a handful of people could possibly gel with it. Either you feel it out for yourself or say, if this review really enticed you that much, give it the benefit of the doubt and go all-in on it. Sorry in advance in that time investment doesn't pay off like it did for me, but at the end of the day, I can't delegitimize my experience with Sonic Rush and how after much turbulence, it gave me what I wanted.
No, in truth Dimps had plans to retool the fundamentals of 2D Sonic's design scheme for their individual liking. Immediately after the release of Advance 1, Dimps began envisioning a Sonic where speed is the constant, not the reward. A more static take on 2D Sonic if you will, where the objective is not to navigate complex level geometry at whatever pace you so desire but to traverse it at one set voltage. This design philosophy would materialize in Advance 2 mechanic Boost Mode, a speed condition in which you break the established speed cap and enter a light-state, with level geometry built over five times the length of Advance 1's in accommodation. What was an arguably less nuanced riff on the design ethos of old unsuspectingly became the primogenitor of the design scheme Sonic would run with for years on end: the boost. Just a short few years later and we would arrive at the modern interpretation of the boost, Sonic Rush.
No composer embodies the boost ethos quite like Hideki Naganuma. Naganuma's soundscapes consist of a diverse melting pot of techno, hip-hop, punk, and rap influences that amalgamate together to form this addicting, animated ambiance. His arrangements carry themselves in such a confident manner, effortlessly formulating an indelible flavor. He's never abashed to bring all harmony to a halt and veer far off the deep end, with every tangent managing to stick the landing. His hooks are an anthem that resonates with the mere thought of his works, thus its only natural that he'd worked on a game as vivacious as him. Between his technical rhythms and sampled hooks, he brings the meager capabilities of the DS sound chip to its zenith. In a franchise already lauded for its marvelous soundtracks, Naganuma's work on Rush manages to plant itself as supreme. Not yet has the franchises topped the harmonics of Raisin' Me Up, nor the technicality of Back 2 Back, that reverberated the world of Sonic Rush.
A world that is ironically rather banal relative to its forefathers, that is. With the exception of Water Palace, the zone locales, while conceptionally and mechanically dissimilar, are a sterilized repeat of the zones of old. Its creative bankruptcy is extrapolated further in relation to the cyberspaces, musical theme parks, and undersea bases of its GBA progenitors. Even them maintaining their pixel art bravura, their grandeur is neutralized by the crude presence of 3D models. Regardless of rather this was a consequence of a staunch desire to showcase the DS' hardware or the product of an egregious one-year development cycle, it stoves away the visual coherency the Advance series once relished in. All it does is robs an already cut-and-dry world of the grace of its more minute subtleties.
But even in all its platitude, there is still two points of interest here. The game's scenario is split into two perspectives, one in which in you follow Sonic's quest to thwart another one of Dr. Eggman's schemes and another where you inhibit the devote princess of another dimension, Blaze the Cat, on her quest to retrieve her world's enigmatic Sol Emeralds. Both scenarios pit their stars through the same acts armed with a similar mechanical toolkit, most of their distinctions lie in the superficial realm. Sonic's partition acts as the baseline, whereas Blaze's remixes it. Whereas Sonic's themes are Naganuma's original score, Blaze's compositions are twee re-arrangements of Naganuma's original score composed by Teruhiko Nakagawa. When Sonic's script goes through the motions of your usual Sonic narrative, Blaze's script takes her on a trip around an alien world as she progressively learns how to open up and trust others. The most substantial difference between the two runners lies in their level order; Sonic follows the natural difficulty curve while Blaze's sequence takes her on an unorthodox path that feels coarse in contrast. Most players are going to gravitate towards the honorary namesake regardless, but the game's intentions are clear; play Sonic first, then play Blaze second.
Whatever personality you go with, the elephant remains in the room. Dimps has partnered with Sonic Team numerous times over the years, and eventually their joint projects amassed a notoriety. A notoriety not stemming from a place of culture wars nonsense like your usual Sonic discourse, something far more terminal; their level design tendencies. The motif featured across all of Dimps' Sonic works is a proneness for sleazy level geometry that punishes you for unforeseeable mistakes. Spikes planted precisely where a player can regrettably land, platforming segments levitating above long, bottomless chasms, enemies deposited right on an otherwise innocent slope; this tendency has plagued the Advance series since its inception and Dimps' other works don't fare much better in this regard. Worst of all, what you're left with after attempting to make a genuine effort to engage with these games is monotonous, dull level design that besmirches the 2D Sonic games of old by being likened to. Consequently, audiences now approach Dimps' games with an aura of caution, and Sonic Rush is no different.
Sonic Rush leaves a better initial impression than the Dimps of old, spikes are less prevalent and the extra screen space gives leeway to more apparent danger, but the bar for sophisticated game design is far higher than the one Dimps set for themselves. They're not scrutinizing the failings of their past, they're just watering it down. All their routine habits are still there, they just have "less" adjoined to them. There are still moments where you have to suddenly stop and platform over an endless abyss, but there's less of it. You still land directly on a spike sometimes, yet there's less of it. Regardless of how much "less" Dimps affixes to their level geometry, it's all still there, and it all still stings. If one were to craft an enjoyment curve for Rush, it would be vulgar, ragged curves of mild highs and deep lows. Multiply those lows by two for every instance of Sonic's lack of real aerial control a la Blaze cruising towards their death or Sonic's depreciated homing attack leading to they themselves getting hit.
Perhaps in yet another attempt to showcase the power of the DS hardware, some characteristics of Rush are uniquely gross compared to the Advance series. The nine bosses featured in Rush are some of the most abominable sections it has to offer. Their attack patterns are complete RNG, and their toolset tends to feature one or more attacks that exist solely to stall out the player whilst they're in a state of invulnerability. Thusly most fights turn a drab test of patience, as the boss loops the same twenty-second attack three times over. Their attacks are not involved nor diverse enough to warrant the five minutes it takes to slowly wheedle their health down to zero. It only goes to aggravate an experience that already feels nauseating to play engage with even in short bursts.
Yet, when I started Blaze's story, a mental switch flipped on. While the bosses were still obnoxious, there was this return I never received for investing in the Advance series. Having had made mental notes of each little gameplay quirk, I started discerning the level design through a more pragmatic lens. Beyond their abrasive shortcomings, there was some meticulously crafted level design here. Learning the ins and outs of the level geometry felt gratifying, and very soon I was attempting to go for S-Ranks. Another switch trickled on, and suddenly I started feeling an electrification. The game's subtleties grew more pronounced and they started fueling my rush further. I went back and nabbed all the Chaos Emeralds in what might be my favorite incarnation of the Special Stages and beat the true final boss. Still, I kept grinding S-Rank attempts, eventually I ended up S-Ranking over half of the game. Finally I was getting Sonic Rush.
The most prominent quality of Sonic Rush is its intensely exhilarating game feel. The boost alone does a phenomenal job in supplying kineticism. It bears an invaluable instant action-and-reaction, allowing the player to burst ahead regardless of their current velocity. What's more galvanizing is, when held, it blitzes through any enemy capriciously, abolishing all obstacles between you and the level geometry itself. Its powers run on a limited resource however, a resource I'll colloquially dub Tension. Tension can be acquired by destroying enemies or taking advantage of tricks. Each upward spring, incline, or rail presents an opportunity to mount Tension by executing a series of tricks, these acrobatics being your primary source of Tension. When the Tension Gauge inevitably peaks, it grants a temporal surge of unlimited Tension, lasting so long as Tension is habitually being attained. The inclusion of a rank system that judges both Tension scored and time lapped thusly elevates the game from a trial of survivability to a full-on conundrum. How can you optimize accumulated Tension whilst reaching the goal in due time? With this, we arrive at the actualization of the design thesis has been building upon since Advance 2: boost to win.
This ethos transcends being a mere mechanical mantra, it is the very backbone to each of its finer intricacies. Even delicately engaging the boost button erupts the soundscape into a flurry of noise. Held down, enemies will rocket off-screen like a paperweight, Tension Gauge gleaming. Launch off a diagonal spring and soak in the barrage of applause and accolades as you perform a sequence of stunts. Tension finally reached max capacity, gaining you and your gauge a golden aura and the chimes chirp higher and the raves roar louder. That ubiquitous coin above your gauge wheels in hysteria. You're in The Zone, you gotta keep running. The cheers can't end. Are you even on S-Rank pace? Should I be performing less tricks? Can't think now, you're going too fast to keep up. Boost to win. Every little garnish is devoted to intoxicating the senses, and it's this flow quality that is quintessential to Dimps' dogma.
I was shocked by my gradual appreciation of Sonic Rush. Despite my dismal first playthrough and my apprehension towards even touching the game, I stuck with it despite my better judgment and got a healthy payoff. It's sure as hell not for everyone. I can't fault anyone for bouncing off the game after only a handful of zones given Dimps' track record, but in spite of its multitude of failings there's some fascinating game design at play here that deserves attention. I don't think there's any purpose in me recommending Sonic Rush, it's one of those games that sits at a niche so exclusive that only a handful of people could possibly gel with it. Either you feel it out for yourself or say, if this review really enticed you that much, give it the benefit of the doubt and go all-in on it. Sorry in advance in that time investment doesn't pay off like it did for me, but at the end of the day, I can't delegitimize my experience with Sonic Rush and how after much turbulence, it gave me what I wanted.
7 Comments
i think you just put more thought into this writeup than every team member combined contributed to sonic rush's development process
People talking shit about this review like its a bad thing to analize Sonic, or any platformer in regards. Awesome review, I'll check your stuff. Love your writing style
^
Jealous af tbh, I wish I could write half this well. Taking a deeper, more comprehensive look at the pure elements that comprise a "simpler" experience like a Sonic game, and using them to piece together and evaluate design philosophies is always fascinating to me.
Jealous af tbh, I wish I could write half this well. Taking a deeper, more comprehensive look at the pure elements that comprise a "simpler" experience like a Sonic game, and using them to piece together and evaluate design philosophies is always fascinating to me.
We definitely need more writing like this
I'm almost incapacitated to write this deep on english because of language barriers and my own crafting; this kind of pompous yet enriching reviews I can't translate them but I sure try my hardest on spanish. Nonetheless, this kind of videogame critique is inspiring to me, to insert it onto my own cultural space where there's even less writers you can hold onto, like debitnotcredit. I technically use Backloggd as both a time mark and a repository of, say, superficial thoughts around the games I play and plan to make a video on, but sure does impregnate my native language application. Seriously, I appreciate this review with heart, because I want to do the same by my own terms and my own world. Thank you again.
^I still hold my view on this one. Great piece
NumberOne
3 years ago