61 Frames Per Second : retro

What's in my MP3 Player: LetThereBeLight, a Mega Man 4 OC Remix

Nadia Oxford — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 03:54:00 GMT

Line up to revoke any good feelings you have about me, because I think that Mega Man 4's soundtrack is better than Mega Man 2's.

”Oh my God Nadia how can you embarrass yourself like this?”

Though I thoroughly believe Mega Man 2 deserves its pedestal in the hearts of the people, I actually don't have the same nostalgic attachment to the title as other Mega Man fans. My first game was Mega Man 3, which I followed up with Mega Man 4. Mega Man 4's gameplay isn't exceptionally good, but the graphics and soundtrack are among the NES' best.

”So you say, but you still sound like you were dropped on your head as a baby and dragged away by a dog, poor wee child.”

Maybe so, but if you give the soundtrack a good listen, you can hear an attempt to go somewhere different. Dustman's stage is far beyond Mega Man's usual rock n roll du jour; it's a subdued tune, quite melancholy, that brings you back to those rainy days you spent indoors with your NES.

It also gave rise to the greatest OC Remix of all time.

LetThereBeLight by musician Stefan Ajax/AmIEvil is a rare instance of a remix I don't feel compelled to explain to any non-gaming company within listening range. The name is a bit deceptive, since one might expect a remix of Brightman's stage (also awesome, don't deny it), but what counts is how it sounds. LetThereBeLight is melancholy, like its source material, but also dark, tortuous, and mysterious. You would expect it to accompany a scene in a movie where the main cast has resolved to find their way out of a haunted forest, but will inevitably end up in the mouth of some hell-dog.

AmIEvil hasn't contributed any OC Remixes for a number of years, but he does seem to have a band that's touring around Sweden. So here's a “Hooray!” for a talented guy, though I do miss his automatically-accessible work.

Related Links:

What's In My MP3 Player: Super Metroid "In Your Prime"
What's In My MP3 Player: Castlevania II "Castle of Tears"
What's in my MP3 Player: Shadow's Theme

FMV Heaven: Panzer Dragoon's Opening Theatrics

Nadia Oxford — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 01:04:00 GMT

As far as I'm concerned, nobody has the right to laugh at you if you picked the Sega Saturn as your horse in the 32-bit console race. The Saturn was home to Panzer Dragoon, a series that wholly deserves to be thriving today. Unfortunately, even the memory of Sega's dragon-shooter is filmy; though game nostalgia is big business, Panzer Dragoon games have not haunted us beyond a weak attempt here and there, and we're sadder for it.

3D games in the 32/64-bit era tended to be afflicted with the Uglies. It was an awkward, transitional phase for gaming that was worsened by developers who fought against console limitations instead of working with them.

Panzer Dragoon worked with the Saturn's limitations. The shooter's visuals might not be as impressive as they once were, but there's no mistaking the care taken with the art direction, especially in the opening cutscene (thanks in part to creative contributions made by French artist Moebius, whose Arzach comic series served as the main inspiration for Panzer Dragoon's arid, rocky world).

The game's opening cinema doesn't burden the player with much in the way of text beyond a brief summary of events. Despite the brevity and the relative blandness of the character models (intentionally dull colours, low polygon count and textures, jerky movements), the hostility and danger of the environment is conveyed perfectly. Early in the cinema, a friend of the hero's is picked off by a scuttling crustacean with a large stinger. The hero chases the sand-crab into some ruins, where it's quickly preyed upon by a much bigger, even deadlier shelled beast. But within seconds, that monster is slain in the crossfire of a dragon fight, which is merely one far-reaching tentacle of a world-consuming war.

“No,” Panzer Dragoon says to the player, “the world you're about to explore is not pro-human.”

I've always loved the dragon designs in the Panzer Dragoon series. They're elegant without being flowery. Most dragon-riding fantasy books tend to turn the beasts into pretty pretty ponies, but the helmeted/horned masked dragons of Panzer Dragoon are mysterious, compelling—and unquestionably bad-ass.

Related Links:

What'd I Miss? Panzer Dragoon
Sega, Show Some Decency
Have You Seen This Xbox Game?

I Don't Think I Missed Much: Beyond Oasis

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 01:16:00 GMT

Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection has proved invaluable in helping me patch the gaming gaps inflicted by my childhood loyalty to Nintendo. Aside from suffering at the hands of Altered Beast, I've been working my way through Beyond Oasis.

Beyond Oasis is an action-RPG that was released in 1995, a particularly rich vein of gaming history. Its top-down sword-swinging action is most often compared to The Legend of Zelda, though the large sprites, interchangeable weapons and focus on fighting over puzzle-solving remind me more of Secret of Mana.

With Secret of Mana being one of my very favourite ~~instruments of torture~~ video games, you would think that I'd latch right on to the Sega Genesis alternative about an Arabian boy with blue eyes and blonde hair. Alas, it has just not been so. Beyond Oasis works well as a distraction to pick at while waiting for my potatoes to boil, but something about it feels hollow. It feels strange to make this discovery, because I spent a lot of energy pretending not to care when the first big, beautiful screenshots of Beyond Oasis hit game magazines.

It's hard to name exactly what turns me off about Beyond Oasis. It might be the boxed-in feeling I get from maneuvering a big sprite on comparatively small playing fields. It might be the lame puzzles, or the unresponsive nature of Ali's elemental helpers. It might be the awful sound effects and voice samples. Really, Sega, if you can't conjure up a convincing “squeak” for your mutant rat enemies, don't stick me with something that sounds like a pen tapping the side of a glass.

I think I'm also irritated by the way the nondescript male townspeople swagger with their bellies sticking out a mile. The story isn't much to write home to mother about, either. Just something about the infinite scary power of a gold armlet, and a quest to find its silver mate. It's strange how A Link to the Past had a minimal story too, but it was presented in a manner that drove me from dungeon to dungeon, eager to find out what was next.

Even the graphics don't impress me as much as those old magazine pictures. The bright whites, greens and yellows are difficult for my eyes to digest. The world presented in Secret of Mana is painted in shades of unicorn puke, but the colours are soft and mesh well together. But hey, at least Beyond Oasis has this totally awesome anime intro, you guys. omg bettar than disney.

On the other hand, Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection offers a library of varied titles, and it can be hard to shift from one to the other. I'm currently working my way through Phantasy Star IV, which takes place in an arid world that's nearly spent. Switching into the technicolour lands of Beyond Oasis after a slog through Motavia would melt the eyes off a cyborg. I'll choose my playtime a little more carefully, keep going, and see where I end up. I know I've seen screenshots of a neat dragon boss. I want to celebrate its majesty by stabbing it.

Related Links:

I Will Defeat You, Altered Beast
The Untold Story of Sega Killing Their Own Hardware Business
Gaga for Segaga

Unsolicited Scares: St Eva from Breath of Fire II Loves You Thiiis Much

Nadia Oxford — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 03:02:00 GMT

Circumstances beyond my control got me thinking the other day about Breath of Fire II, Capcom's SNES RPG for totally buff men (unless the US box art is lying to me). Breath of Fire II was my first experience with a God-slaying JRPG, and it stuck with me for a few reasons. Reason one: it nearly made me crap my pants.

Every good Messiah hunt includes a foray into the Master's den of cultists, and Breath of Fire predictably sends the hero Ryu and his pals into the heart of St Eva's town towards the end of the game. St Eva is God, but he's not benevolent. What a twist!

The story makes it obvious that St Eva stinks of corruption and rancid food (flowing robes are catch-alls for cheese and salsa drippings), so Ryu is a bit put off when he walks into St Eva's town and finds it a bustling, happy place. Revelers comment on the beautiful weather, the lame can walk, the blind can see, and every dog has a wagging tail.

Ryu thinks, “Well, maybe I had this Eva fellow pegged wrong,” and decides he needs to reconsider his options. He exits the town--

--and finds himself back inside the town gates.

Suddenly, the warm air is icy, and the friendly townspeople have transformed into cackling, shambling husks. I'm making the event sound especially chilly because it had a personal effect on me. See, there was this time I was in a death cult, and—just kidding. But there is a specific reason I never, ever forgot my trip to St Eva's Land.

I'm a very vivid dreamer. Said dreams don't always take me to pleasant places, but I'm used to them by now:

“How did you sleep?”

“Had a dream about dead puppies covered in flies, but all right otherwise.”

So I'm used to waking up, saying “Ugh, okay,” and getting on with my life. But there are still specific dreams that I classify as nightmares. Namely, I fight to get out of a terrible place, burst out of the exit into the fresh air—and find myself back in the house, cave, etc, with some kind of unidentifiable horror right behind me. I usually wake up in a cold sweat.

No doubt everyone has experienced the same dream at some point, likely throughout all their lives. I played Breath of Fire II nearly 14 years ago, but even then St Eva's trap was enough to give me the chills.

Then I smashed St Eva with the Kaiser Dragon transformation. That'll teach him for taking advantage of my psychological weaknesses.

Related Links:

Unsolicited Scares: Threed, Zombie Central
Unsolicited Scares: Terranigma and the Desert
The White Whale: Terranigma and Ahab Gaming

I Will Defeat You, Altered Beast

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 04:04:00 GMT

It took a while for the Sega Genesis to peel kids' grimy fingers off their NES controllers. The NES had Castlevania, Mega Man, Ninja Gaiden and its pantheon of Mario games. The Genesis had, well, Altered Beast.

Every time I play Altered Beast, I use explicatives I never new existed in my inner dictionary. “F this game! F its mom! Grrr! No wonder nobody liked the Genesis until Sonic the Hedgehog!”

Kids, can you point out what's wrong with that previous paragraph? Hint: ”Every time I play Altered Beast...”

I can't even give you a count of how many years I've been trying to beat Sega's classic. My efforts have doubled since I acquired Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection for the Xbox 360, but no dice. Incidentally, I have beaten the arcade version, also included on the Genesis Collection—but that's with the aid of unlimited and accessible continues. On my honour, I will finish Altered Beast on the Genesis with no cheats. This will surely please God more than contributing food or hours of boring volunteer services to the needy.

Why do I keep going back for some Altered Beast punishment? The graphics are laughable, the music is tinny, and an auto-scrolling beat-em-up is pretty much the worst idea ever—but changing into anthromorphic beasts is just so cool, I can't stop doing it. A wolf, a dragon, a tiger, a bear...if Zeus ever woke me up from eternal rest to save his daughter, he'd better damn well give me the option of turning into Nature's pro wrestlers.

I also like the way the zombies explode into bloody chunks if you so much as tap them with your foot. Additionally, there is something gratifying about grabbing a power orb and hearing Zeus declare, “Power. Up.” as your guy's bulging muscles shred his, em, toga. He even stops fighting long enough to throw you a sultry look. Too bad 16-bit technology was so limited; the only sensible follow-up to that look is a dance number by some inflated pecs.

I will continue to do what I must in order to finish this game legitimately. I've already wisen from my gwave about a hundred times. What's a hundred more?

Related Links:

Alternate Soundtrack: Altered Beast vs Natalie Portman's Shaved Head
Confessions of the Young and Stupid: I Almost Bought a Genesis for Moonwalker
Ecco the Dolphin: Was This Game Ever Considered Fun?

Comfort Through Gaming: Accomplishing Anything in SimEarth

Nadia Oxford — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 03:06:00 GMT

A New Yorker article published in 2006 quoted Will Wright as being an advocate of the Montessori method of teaching. Wright argues that kids given sufficient materials and left to their own devices will educate themselves far more thoroughly than any structured program.

SimCity was apparently born from the legendary game designer's love for self-discovery:

”SimCity comes right out of Montessori—if you give people this model for building cities, they will abstract from it principles of urban design.”

Which is a valid point of view if you're a genius like Wright, but the average SimCity player is eventually just going to write “PENIS” with railroad tracks before giving up, Montessori education or no Montessori education.

I am very much an average Sim player. I did well enough with SimCity for the Super Nintendo and (gasp) Commodore 64. When I picked up SimEarth for the SNES (developed by FCI instead of Maxis), I expected the game to merely be a global re-imagining of SimCity, intuitive and easy to jump into. Instead, I was met with something almost completely different that required a bit more book learning than “Commercial zones do really well next to residential zones.” SimEarth is full of controls, dials, variables, and there is little graphic reward: you won't see massive cities bristle from the wilds as civilisation progresses, and full-scale nuclear war is disappointingly toothless. Yet, something about the SNES installment of the earth simulator is laid-back to the point of being almost therapeutic. I never developed my totalitarian Tyrannosaurus Rex empire because I largely had no idea what I was doing, but I was content to try over and over.

SimEarth actually encourages you to take your time and slap around Gaia to your liking. “Energy” replaces money as the means with which to build your ecosystem, but on the Easy setting, Energy is unlimited and you are free to experiment.

There's also less pressure to succeed, unless you tie yourself down with a scenario (want to terraform Venus? Be my guest). When a fire breaks out in SimCity, it's a disaster that needs to be dealt with ASAP. When a fire breaks out in SimEarth, it's the natural way of things—or a means to an end (more on that in a bit). The fire leaves a scar, but the Earth, if healthy, will heal itself with pretty trees. The people of Earth are also largely unaware of the player's existence. Though people curse God on a daily basis, you won't hear it in SimEarth. But if the people of SimCity hate you, you're going to hear it, Mr (or Ms) Mayor.

I also remain fond of SimEarth's music, particularly the gruff, thudding Geologic time scale piece. This is the music that starts you on your quest to evolve intelligent life. At this point in the game, Earth's surface is nothing but molten rock; Takane Okubo's composition almost carries a dare. “Hey jackass, evolve this!”

You take that challenge, and life evolves from the primordial soup. And the game's music brightens. “Yatta! Let us work towards prosperity!”

There are several videos on YouTube of players attempting the game's scenarios. These are pretty basic: cool off a desert planet until it can sustain mammal life, nurture humanity until it can fly to the moon and become some other race's problem, etc. The very last scenario is the most interesting one: robots have taken over the world Terminator-style, and you must purge them and re-instate biological life.

How do you get rid of a metallic empire? You melt it down to scrap.

Yay! You are good at being God!

Except those filthy robots.

Related Links:

Comfort Through Gaming: Super Metroid's Dark Tunnels
Breaking Out Of Your Gaming Comfort Zone
Watcha Playing: The Palette Cleanser

Actraiser Is Overdue for a Resurrection

Nadia Oxford — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 03:49:00 GMT

We live in an age where game developers see fit to upgrade old classics. Some gamers think they've gone to hell for their sins, but I think we're chin-deep in good times. If nothing else, I can hold on to a slim hope that Square-Enix will revise Actraiser for modern consoles and put it up for sale on XLBA or WiiWare.

Why Actraiser? Good God, why the hell not. I was playing it just last month (my husband had never seen it) and it was such a comfortable, refreshing experience. The frequent switches between action stages and the development of civilisation keep any one thing about the game from getting stale. The graphics are good—that ice wyvern boss is still impressive—and the music is sublime.

Also, you are God. Take that, '90s furry mascots of the game world.

The basic concepts of Actraiser are fun to work through, and they're ripe for adding-onto. Most obviously, there should be more chaotic worlds to cultivate: beat up the monsters with sharp sticks and send them packing so that humans may till the soil. Beyond that, more control over the growth of the cities would be ideal, though admittedly there's something pleasantly uncomplicated about directing the people of Actraiser. Their wild sex orgies and subsequent population growth are merely a means to pump up God's power, but I'd still like to zoom in on one particular mortal, coddle him, praise him, them crush him like Job.

Some gameplay tweaks wouldn't be amiss, either. For someone who's supposed to know everything about human physiology, God is a pretty clunky guy. He holds his sword like a baseball bat and swings like a girl. Nobody corrects his stance though, because you generally don't want to contradict a being who can cast you into an eternal furnace.

God should also be louder, angrier, and have access to a time machine.

Actually, if a remake was ever considered for Actraiser, one rule would make it a success: “Do the opposite of everything Actraiser 2 tried to do.”

Related Links:

Actraiser III! Maybe!
OST: Soulblazer
Let The Mega Man 9 Speedruns Continue

Why Were Game Magazines So Cruel to Earthbound?

Nadia Oxford — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 03:20:00 GMT

Earthbound Central has been collecting old magazine reviews for Earthbound, circa Summer 1995. Thus far, the stable includes Gamepro, Game Players, EGM, and most recently, Video Games & Computer Entertainment.

I recently blamed Gamepro for destroying any interest my fifteen-year-old self had in Earthbound, as I well should: their review was wretched. But having looked back at Earthbound Central's library of horror, I've come to realise that Gamepro is not exclusively to blame for turning me off to Ness' adventure. American reviewers despised this poor game.

EGM's John Gurka reserved a coveted place beside the Throne of God for mentioning that the storyline rivals that of Final Fantasy VI, but even he can't resist sniffing at the “Nintendo-era graphics.” Every other review sneers at the very same, berating Earthbound's lovingly put-together world as “childish,” “cutesy,” and “McDonald's Playland meets Bobby's World.”

(So, which ultimately endeared itself to the world? Earthbound or Bobby's World?)

Earthbound is looked upon as one of gaming history's least appreciated games. The farts-n-pizza ad campaign didn't help, but the reviewers of olde probably didn't have them in mind when they snapped off the game and started banging on the keyboard. Why did Earthbound get shafted in the first place?

Though the JRPG genre didn't hit mainstream American culture until Final Fantasy VII, 16-bit era RPGs raised the heads of a few gamers who discovered the joy of an in-depth story. EGM wasn't off the mark when it compared Earthbound's story to Final Fantasy VI's—but there are obvious differences between the two games, not only in themes and narrative, but the delivery of said narrative as well.

Final Fantasy VI delivers its character development to the player, though sometimes those gab sessions take a little bit of searching (Sabin and Edgar, for instance, won't relay their past unless they're both in the party while visiting Figaro Castle). Earthbound, by comparison, scatters clues for the player to put together so they can draw their own conclusions. We learn a lot about Ness through the flashes of memory he experiences at his Sanctuary locations.

Both games tell a lovely story in very different ways. Japan, obviously long used to the nuances of JRPG storytelling by 1995, embraced Mother 2. America, still fresh from being hammered over the head with sex, betrayal, suicide, and everything else Final Fantasy VI offered us for the first time, understandably thought that epic RPG stories were meant to be fed to them intravenously.

In other words, America needed time to get tired of JRPGs ramming words down our throats. Now, over ten years later, we look back and see what a friend we had in Earthbound. Alas...

Related Links:

Abandon All Hope: No Earthbound for the Virtual Console
The Mother 3 Translation: We're Not Worthy!
Whatcha Listening To: The Earthbound Soundtrack

There Is Significance Behind Super Mario's Cosplay

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:08:00 GMT

Life isn't much good at being fair, and it's terrible at baking cookies. But it's great with lessons on perspective, and Lord knows it excels at making you feel old.

I thought I had young gamers figured out. I would sometimes stand in the Arrivals lobby of the airport and wait for a travel-weary grandma to shuffle in with outstretched arms. Once her grandson or granddaughter shrieked with recognition and charged, I'd stand between the two with a large poster of Mario. One hundred percent of the time, grandma was abandoned for a hug with the Mario poster.

I conducted this experiment to determine how recognisable Mario actually is, and also because I like making grandmothers cry. In conclusion, Mario is easily pointed out by the very young and the very old, and everyone in between—but not every aspect of Mario's character is acknowledged universally.

When we think of Mario, we think of a fat Italian guy who wears a hat and loves to bounce around saying, “Woo-hooo!” But Mario is more than a long-time Princess rescuer: he's also a master of shape-shifting. Every new adventure gives him some kind of alterform: a frog, a raccoon, a ghost, a Superman, etcetera, etcetera. Knowledge of these disguises and a twenty-second elevator ride taught me that just because Mario is so easy to point it in a crowd, it doesn't mean his image has remained consistent among gamers of all ages.

A couple of years back, a friend made me a Frog Mario button. I put it on my purse and never had the good sense to remove it, so it's still there. A few days ago, I was riding the elevator up to my apartment, and an eight-year-old kid who boarded with his dad noticed my button.

He said, “It's Luigi!”

Interesting take, I have to admit: when you see something green and vaguely Mario-ish, you may as well default to Luigi. I said, “No, but you're close.”

He looked at me, confused.

“It's Frog Mario.”

You know that stare kids give you when you start speaking to them in tongues?

His dad said, “I think he's too young for that.”

“I was your age when I first played Mario 3,” I told the kid. He looked conflicted. No doubt he hears “When I was your age” as often as we grown-ups hear, “You're past due on this pornography bill,” and he's likely tired of it. On the other hand, no young boy wants to pass up a conversation about Super Mario.

He said, “I like New Super Mario Bros! See, I was fighting Bowser, and there was this fire, right, and--”

Dad interrupted. “But who actually finished the game?”

The kid pointed to his dad.

He was still talking as he was pulled out of the elevator. Until that moment, it had never occurred to me that a young kid might not realise the significance behind Frog Mario, or Raccoon Mario, or even Caped Mario. Despite revivals on the Game Boy Advance and the Virtual Console, he belongs to the retro game community. That's okay, because without change, there is no survival...and Bee Mario is almost as fuzzy and cute as Tanooki Mario. Almost.

Related Links:

Brave New Super Mario World
Super Mario World is Terrifying!
Super Mario's Warp Whistle Mishap

The All New Retro: Bust-a-Groove and Low-Poly Love

John Constantine — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I won’t deny it. My gaming tastes are a little unusual. Take my emulation aversion. Does a normal person spend months and months tracking down a rare and expensive cheat device so they can play an imported SNES game when they could download a ROM and SNES emulator in about ten seconds? No. This is not how a normal person behaves. As I slowly morph into something approximating an adult, I’ve been noticing another strange predilection in my gaming brain: a love of low-polygon graphics.

Some games do not age with grace. Their mechanics, and especially their graphics, develop the distinct taste of vinegar when they used to be wine just five years before. Yet the games of the 32- and 64-bit era, games that I thought were repulsive even at the time, are starting to take on a strange allure. Take a look at this screenshot from Tomb Raider 3 as a prime example:

It’s a relic, no pun intended. The cliff face is made of perfect right angles, covered in muddy textures doing their best to look like rock. Lara herself looks like a drawing dummy. This screenshot should be a text book example of why early polygonal graphics are best-forgotten growing pains from the medium’s adolescence. Given, low-poly graphics like these have survived. Most 3D Nintendo DS games are comparable to this screen, though they can be much better. Square-Enix’s Final Fantasy IV is not unlike graphics seen in the best the Playstation and Nintendo 64 had to offer ten years ago. DS games of its ilk though feature graphics of necessity, not of stylistic choice. Style is where I see the potential beauty of low-poly graphics. Ugly as they are, they could make for a whole new style of retro game design.

In the same way that Retro Game Challenge and Mega Man 9 have leveraged NES-level visual limitations to inform and color compelling game designs, I can see a designer intentionally choosing a low-poly presentation to inform their game. Instead of the game looking antiquated and ugly, you have a ready made cubist style that can make for extremely expressive games. Just look at Katamari Damacy.

Bust-a-Groove, Enix’s long forgotten rhythm game pictured at the top of this post, is what got me thinking about the potential of low-polygon design. Its models are primitive, but appealing in their simplicity and expressive thanks to the game’s excellent motion captured dances. Imagine if that game hadn’t come out in 1998. Say it came out in 2016. Would we say it’s ugly? Or would we say approvingly, “That’s old school.”? Retro even.

Mark my words, dear reader. It’ll happen. And it will be, if nothing else, interesting when it does.

Related links:

Not All Games Age Well
Question of the Day: Why Can’t I Emulate?
The 61FPS Review: Retro Game Challenge
Continuing the Old-School Conversation
Don’t Call It Retro: Mega Man 9 and Design Resurrection

Box Art Worth Remembering: Dragon Warrior III (NES)

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 02:30:00 GMT

Gamers are a resourceful species. We play our games, and then sharpen our claws on the box art. This has been our way for decades. It's an old practise, rich with tradition. I mean...look at this stuff.

North American box art has only recently stopped trying to hide the flavour of its innards. Anime character designs, for instance, were used very sparingly until the latter half of the PSOne's life. Instead, A-list titles like Castlevania: Symphony of the Night and Suikoden received jewel case covers that would have been well-suited for a “Count With the Count!” Sesame Street soundtrack, and an instructional CD on 108 ways to draw a generic hero.

Regardless, I think some interesting design choices came out of that strange era. When box art illustrators put forth an effort, the end result was comparable in quality to the original Japanese work. One of my favourite examples is from a title that remains one of my all-time beloved: Dragon Warrior III for the NES.

In 1991, Dragon Ball Z was still millions of years away from American audiences, thus rendering Akira Toriyama more or less nameless on this side of the pond. For Dragon Warrior III Enix of America chose a box design that was absent of any title characters—an interesting choice, given Dragon Warrior III's emphasis on character classes and large parties.

Dragon Warrior III's box art does reveal a couple of items that are key to the game. First and most obvious is one of the six Orbs needed to complete the adventure, towering over a field of weapons and flame. Second is the Hero's sword at the forefront of the illustration.

Speaking once more about interesting design choices, the sword's hilt is shaped like the Crest of Loto. Enix's localisation for the early Dragon Warrior games replaced the legendary Loto with the more manly-sounding Erdrick. Erdrick's crest was key to finishing Dragon Warrior, but whereas the Dragon Quest games made his family badge nearly as iconic as the Slime, Dragon Warrior did little with the heraldic symbol.

The box art for Dragon Warrior III has a sombre feeling about it. One of the things that surprised me most about the revitalisation of the franchise in America was learning how light-hearted the Dragon Quest games actually are. Enix of America's re-designs and translations always made events seem a lot more serious.

That's not entirely a bad thing, though. Video games were most certainly kids' stuff in the 8-bit era, and Dragon Warrior III's box art made you feel like you were about to undertake a solemn task when you opened up the package.

Related Links:

The 61FPS Review: Dragon Quest IV: Chapters of the Chosen
The 61FPS Review: Dragon Quest V: Hand of the Heavenly Bride
Dragon Quest IV: Re-Reading the Chapters of the Chosen

GDC News: Final Fantasy to Hit Virtual Console

Bob Mackey — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 17:40:00 GMT

Fans of the old-school Final Fantasy games haven't exactly gotten the best treatment in recent years; while ports and remakes of the early games have been available in abundance, those looking for a faithful retro RPG experience have had to turn to expensive eBay copies (with possibly non-functioning batteries) or emulation to get their fix. After all, if Square can charge $30-$40 for revivals of their past hits, what incentive do they have to offer much cheaper version of these games on services like the Wii's Virtual Console?

Well, it looks like Square-Enix has had a change of heart--or they've just initiated the final stage in their "milking fans dry" plan--with Nintendo President Satoru Iwata's announcement that the famous franchise will indeed be hitting Nintendo's digital download service. According to Wired's Game|Life,

Starting in May in Japan, the first six classic Final Fantasy titles will be released on Wii's Virtual Console service. In the U.S., said Iwata, the games that were actually released in the U.S. will come out here, too.

Even if you've played the first three American-released Final Fantasies a million times, it's still nice to hear that we'll finally have a chance to play these games in their original forms--as adequate as the GBA ports of IV and VI were, they were a bit lacking when compared to the originals. If anything, it'll be great to hear Nobuo Uematsu's stunning Final Fantasy VI soundtrack again the way it was meant to be heard.

Related Links:

Cloud's Ghostly Face Says, "More Final Fantasy VII? Only I Know, Suckahs."
Trailer Review: Final Fantasy XIII Looks Disturbingly Interesting
Know Your Final Fantasy IV Trivia. It Could Save Your Life.

Mega Man 2.5D?

Nadia Oxford — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 05:30:00 GMT

I'm automatically skeptical about fan-made games. I will nod at the demos and videos and say, “That's very nice,” but I won't get excited until there's a final product for me to play through.

What can I say. I've seen innumerable projects that began with energy and enthusiasm that surged like Niagara Falls. All but maybe 3% have been dammed up by extended work schedules, “family issues,” or exam season.

For all my adult cynicism, I am hoping that the “Mega Man 2.5D” project survives. It aims to add half a dimension to the classic Mega Man 2, not unlike Super Paper Mario or even (twitch) Bug! for the Sega Saturn.

The demo video looks like the final product would be a lot of fun to blaze through, while at the same time it's a loving tribute to the pinnacle of retro platforming titles. Seems like there's no escape from the disappearing/reappearing blocks.

When I was a kid, I called the disappearing/reappearing blocks “Dustbusters,” because, well, that's what they sound like.

Related Links:

Mega Man Robot Club
Know Your Mega Man Boss Weaknesses. It Will Save Your Life.
Mega Man 2 vs Mega Man 3: The Eternal Battle for Everlasting Peace

What's In My MP3 Player: Mother 3+'s "Pollyanna"

Nadia Oxford — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 03:29:00 GMT

There exists a song that's a perfect accompaniment to the sunrise on the first warm day of the year. That song, as I discovered though an example of ideal iPod shuffling, is “Pollyanna” from the Mother 3+ soundtrack.

Pollyanna is one of a few pieces of music that recur through all three games in the Mother/Earthbound series. The revision done for the Mother 3+ soundtrack—which you can buy on iTunes (do it)—is very pretty and, as I already stated, God's own theme song for springtime.

However, I dare say that the first occurrence of the song (Mother for the Famicom) is the most impressive. The 8-bit era wasn't lacking for ambitious and memorable game music, but retro-Pollyanna is especially heartfelt and spunky. The story for Mother was a bit less structured than most Famicom RPG offerings: not aimless, but not as urgent as “Holy crap, a Dragon Lord draws near.” Pollyanna, which serves as the basic world map theme for Mother, reflects the laid-back start to Ninten's adventure.

The name of the song is telling in itself: “Pollyanna” is a reference to the hyper-positive lead girl of a popular children's book initially published in 1913 (it's still being printed and adapted today). When things were looking down, Pollyanna played the “Glad Game,” which allowed her to see the good bad situations. “Pollyanna” is even a term in the English language that refers to cheerful optimism.

No surprise that the Mother tune of the same name is so upbeat. Even its lyrics are warm with sugary references to love, hope, and silver linings.

Yes, Pollyanna has lyrics. Karaoke time!

Related Links:

What's in my MP3 Player: Earthbound "Snowbound" OC Remix
What's in my MP3 Player: Castlevania II "Castle of Tears"
What's in my MP3 Player: Shadow's Theme

Splatterhouse Developer Bites Back

Bob Mackey — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 01:05:00 GMT

Last year's announcement of a new Splatterhouse game was unexpected, but exciting; the revival even got an EGM cover, for crying out loud. But recent developments for the slightly-obscure franchise have been less than promising; with developer bottleRocket losing custody of the game to Namco-Bandai due to a "performance issue" claimed by the developer, the fate of Splatterhouse isn't looking so good. With such a vague explanation of why the game was literally ripped from bottleRocket's hands, it's hard to remain optimistic about the future of the Friday the 13th-inspired brawler.

But it may be a little misguided to blame bottleRocket for the state of Splatterhouse; a recent statement from the developer given to the fine people at GamaSutra indicates that Namco's issues with their work on Splatterhouse have been greatly exaggerated--or just plain made up:

"Game development contracts are put in place to protect the publisher and their interests. Within these contracts are a series of defined game development objectives and goals called milestones. If a developer is under performing they tend to fail these milestones and have varying degrees of accountability placed upon them.

Splatterhouse had been in development for over eighteen months and up to having the title taken away from us we had not missed any contractually defined milestones. So either there were no performance issues during that timeframe or Namco’s management of the title was inept."

So, what exactly was Namco's problem with this in-development game? Creative differences over artistic direction? Or was the Splatterhouse revival just a bad idea to begin with? Given bottleRocket's track record, it's hard to see how they'd screw this up.

Related Links:

Klonoa: Careful, Namco. You Tread On My Dreams.
Bad Games With Good Music: Tales of Legendia
Where Will You Go, Tecmo? What Will Happen to Our Love?

FMV Hell: Zombie Dinos From Planet Zeltoid

Nadia Oxford — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 03:00:00 GMT

I really enjoy the art of the “Let's Play,” a practise that involves one gamer chronicling and/or recording his or her journey through a game while other gamers look on. It's a very friendly, social pastime that does a lot to ease your aching faith in the gaming community after spending five minutes with any Xbox 360 multiplayer experience.

Gamespite's forums house some particularly wonderful Let's Plays. I've sifted through some adventures I could never hope to experience otherwise. Forum member innerlogic has been slaving through some pretty rancid CD-i experiences for our amusement.

People talk about the sacrifice Jesus made for humankind, but man. It's like the CD-i was the best joke ever told, but nobody was around to hear it. If only I had known about Zombie Dinos From Planet Zeltoid, the specimen for today's FMV Hell. So many dark moments have passed in my life where I could have looked back on this and thought, “At least I didn't make Zombie Dinos from Planet Zeltoid. I am not irredeemable.”

I'll just go ahead and say what everyone's thinking:

1) Oh God, our '90s-era “attitude” and slang spread to and infected other species across the universe. We are bad people.

2) “Ookoo-Million light years?”

3)LET'S KICK SOME BRAIN!

(Back to where they came from, back to where they came from.)

Related Links:

FMV Hell: Mega Man X4
FMV Hell: Sonic CD
FMV Hell: Moses and Me

Me and My Moogles: A Love Affair Ahead of its Time

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 00:11:00 GMT

Every tick of my heart signals another second I'll never gain back. I've been spending an uncomfortable number of those ticks sitting here and contemplating the history, physiology, and behavioural habits of the Moogle species from Final Fantasy.

There's a lot that still weirds me out about Final Fantasy being part of mainstream gaming—indeed, part of mainstream culture—but I've more or less adapted with one exception: I can't get over the fact that Moogles are now considered cuddly and cute by the world at large.

I decided Moogles were adorable when I played Secret of Mana for the first time, though I didn't really get to know more about them until Final Fantasy VI, when I drafted Mog into my party as the head of Team Aryan (Mog, Sabin, Edgar, Celes). His Dance skill wasn't especially useful when I went up against Kefka's three-tiered pile of demons stapled together, but his crazy amount of hit points made him the ideal meat shield.

I drew Mog on my schoolbooks, my bags, whatever cheap computer Paint program I could get a hold of. People wanted to know what kind of affliction in the head gave me my fondness for deformed cats.

For years I thought Mog and Moogles in general arecats. They're not, as I recently discovered. The species' Japanese name, Moguri, is a combination of the Japanese words for “Mole” and “Bat.” Gone is my long-held belief that “Mog” was Woolsey's play on “moggy,” a British term for a cat.

Even though I'm not used to everyone embracing their Moogle dolls while squealing and exclaiming, I'm kind of glad the world now understands that I wasn't just obsessed with flying cats. Still, I heart you the most out of everyone, Mog.

Related Links:

Know Your Final Fantasy IV Trivia. It Could Save Your Life
The Great Final Fantasy VI Breast Challenge
Trailer Review: Final Fantasy XIII Looks Disturbingly Interesting

The Angry Video Game Nerd's House of Nintendo Horrors

Nadia Oxford — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 03:37:00 GMT

There's been a noticeable lull in publicised Angry Video Game Nerd rants. Apparently, Rolfe is waiting for his contract renewal with ScrewAttack, and he's forbidden to yell until the people who sign his paycheques say it's okay. Man, I've been there.

To tide over the masses, the Nerd has published a short YouTube video showing off his NES game collection. How many Nintendo games do you think he owns? Times 'a lot' by a skillion and you'll get an idea.

Actually, I got more out of this video than I thought I would. The Nerd shows us his legitimate games, but in spite of Nintendo's best efforts, the NES had a lot of titles that weren't anywhere close to legitimate. Tengen's “illegal” version of Tetris was only the Purgatory of a twisted plastic hell. Deeper in the forbidden depths, you will see atrocities like cartridges bandaged together with sticky “Sale!” stickers, and cartridges with connectors poking out of their misbegotten heads.

Come one, come all. Two bits a gander.

Related Links:

The Angry Video Game Nerd Says a Bad Word: Deadly Towers
Periphery: The Angry Video Game Nerd Edition
Wow, Superman 64 Really Was Terrible

The Capcom Cartoon Crossover You Never Knew About

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 03:12:00 GMT

I don't have any useful skills to offer society, but I'm pretty good at finding small glimpses of merit in awful things. That's why I'm pretty forgiving towards bad cartoon adaptations of popular video game series. For instance, I kind of liked the Street Fighter cartoon series. Parts of it were just foul, but there were small examples of effort. The 1995 movie did shameful things to the Street Fighter story continuity, which the cartoon struggled to repair with some success. Guile's failed marriage haunted him (interestingly, not a theme you found often in '90s era cash-in cartoons), Ken was a rich boy who didn't get along with his father, Dhalsim returned to mysticism and meditation, and Cammy defected to Bison and did strange things with him when the lights went out.

But even my patience wears thin sometimes. I will gladly hand out gold stars to game cartoons that try, but I'll turn my back on an episode when it's obvious the writers said, “Hey guys, let's just come up with any crazy shit and go to a hockey game.” I had always figured the Street Fighter cartoon episode “The Warrior King” was such an example of writer apathy/drunkenness/depression. The episode involved a king from another planet who pops by Earth to pick up an orb that grants powers to its user. Bison gets a hold of the orb, and uses it to blackmail world leaders. Chun-Li falls in love with King Axl Rose, who must eventually return home to his regret and hers, etc.

For years, the episode left me irritated. Street Fighter has sumo wrestlers, green mutants, ninjas, crazy haircuts. If you need to supplement the story by bringing in characters from Dimension X, you're not a very good writer.

But I discovered recently that my irritation was misplaced. “The Warrior King” was not an instance of a junior writer using Street Fighter as an outlet for his Heavy Metal fanfiction. It was a Capcom crossover.

Random Action Hour, a game cartoon archive thoughtfully provided by Random Hoo Haas, has a summary of “The Warrior King.” It's peppered generously with screenshots for those of you who have trouble following narrative without pictures.

It seems very possible that “The Warrior King” is a tribute to a Capcom bare-chested beat-em-up called Magic Sword. In that game, a barbarian fights through a tower to reclaim and destroy an orb of power.

Of all the obscure Capcom games to pay tribute to, why Magic Sword? Why not, I guess. The Street Fighter cartoon series also crossed over with Final Fight, so maybe the writers decided to try for something less obvious. Indeed, there was nothing surprising about seeing Cody and Guy alongside Guile, Bison, and the rest, though it was interesting to see Cody be treated like an underdeveloped second grader with anger issues.

“Now Cody, you know you should let Ken and Ryu rescue Jessica. Here's some crayons. Why don't you draw a picture of mommy and daddy lying in the gutters of Metro City, bleeding from bullet wounds?”

Related Links:

Where, Specifically, Did the Street Fighter Movie Go Wrong?
Licensing Tragedies: Malibu's Street Fighter Comic
Street Fighter IV's Fighting Spirit in Painstaking Detail

The Great Girlfriend Grab

Bob Mackey — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 16:00:00 GMT

While doing research for yesterday's post about Alex Kidd, I noticed something interesting: the intro to Alex Kidd in Shinobi World features Alex's girlfriend being whisked away by a villain who literally appears out of nowhere. Of course, savvy (and old) gamers will remember this little vignette as one of old-school gaming's bigger stereotypes; similar scenes even appeared in the intros to the throwback Haggleman series on Retro Game Challenge. I chuckled when I first saw Haggleman's parody, but after seeing it portrayed sincerely in Shinobi World, I started wondering to myself how many games I could find that actually opened with a girlfriend-abducting scene.

What follows are my results.

In case you haven't seen it, here's the Haggleman version of the famous scene (skip to 2:10):

Here's Donkey Kong, which possibly started the trend:

Here's the aforementioned Shinobi World intro:

Here's Super Ghouls and Ghosts:

Up next is Double Dragon:

And finally, we have Super Mario RPG:

Which ones have I neglected to mention and/or remember? I'm wondering just how long this list can be.

Related Links:

The 61FPS Review: Retro Game Challenge
Old Man, Take a Look At My Life
Pole’s Big Adventure: Sega Rides the Retro Train, Takes Advantage of You

Behold The Half-Assed Review That Steered Me Away From Earthbound

Nadia Oxford — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 03:31:00 GMT

Gather around, ladies and gentlemen. It's time to share my secret shame. Come for the story, stay for the punch, the pie, and a chance to wallow in the lingering stink of failure.

When I was young enough to believe in honesty, I relied on game magazine reviews to tell me whether or not a game was worth a purchase. I've already gone over how many Great Canadian Funbux typically went into the purchase of one cartridge game, so you can probably forgive me for doing my research.

Unfortunately, I kind of put myself at a disadvantage by taking to heart the opinions of only one magazine: Gamepro. To be fair, I have to admit that I wasn't steered wrong too often. If not for the rave review I read in the November 1994 issue of the magazine, I would have bypassed the majesty of Final Fantasy VI.

But it was my faith in Gamepro that made me turn up my nose at Earthbound until just last year. While bypassing Earthbound because of a magazine review was a big mistake on my part, it wasn't like I'd boiled a puppy or cast an unforgivable curse on a baby. Earthbound's genius was snubbed by a lot of SNES owners; that's why the fandom has since been driven half-mad with regret.

No, my problem is that Earthbound Central has scanned and archived the review that kept me away from Itoi's masterpiece...and I can't believe that I was swayed by such an impotent clump of...assumptions.

The review appeared in Gamepro's July 1995 issue. I think by then, editors and readers alike were starting to look over their shoulders at previews for the N64, Saturn and Playstation. 16-bit RPGs like Earthbound got a quick glance before everyone ran off the other way, like Milhouse writing “MILPOOL” on Bart's cast before diving into the family's swimming pool. I can't fault an editor for being distracted by a new era shining on the horizon, but this 300-word bluff might have held up better with plausible criticisms instead of, “All the main characters look the same, except for differently-colored hair.” If I were Paula, I'd be pissed.

Also hilarious: "Lack of a convincing storyline," "Unintentionally hilarious humor," "Psychic Dog" (who's with you for the whole game, apparently), "Threet," "Big Footprint," and "This one is bound to fall to Earth soon." God knows I've been stuck for closing lines in reviews, etc, but I'm not sure what that means.

My favourite flub in the review: The “Beginner” brand in the score bar. Ha ha! No.

At least the Protips were as fresh and useful as ever. “Because you have such a limited amount of space in your backpack, eat everything you can to pump up your life bar.”

(“Then sit on Giygas.”)

Related Links:

Abandon All Hope: No Earthbound for the Virtual Console
The Mother 3 Translation: We're Not Worthy!
Earthbound's Secret Evil

Pick Up Chicks In the Zelda Mobile

Nadia Oxford — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 16:28:00 GMT

You deserve a sexy car. That's why you need to own the Legend of Zelda Car. It's a 1978 Ford Fairmount adorned with the full map from the first Legend of Zelda game and other Zelda-related eye candy.

Pictures of the Zelda Car have vroom-vroomed their way into Nintendo Power, Digg, and several game sites. Face it: this is the car you want to lose your virginity in, you studly 29-year-old. Well, good news. It's up for sale.

The owner of the Zelda Car has taken out an ad on craigslist; he (she?) simply doesn't need the vehicle anymore, though it's been as faithful to him as Epona. It's in good condition, has a mere 110,000 miles on it (surely Link has walked/ridden more), and has fairly new shocks and tires.

It's yours for $500.00 USD.

Buy it, will ya!

Related Links:

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Stupidity
The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask: Why I Let Termina Go Squish
Faster, Link! Kill! Kill!

Mega Man Rap Video: Creative Work, a Lot of Filth, or Both?

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 04:58:00 GMT

I have with me a video that people either seem to hate, or enjoy immensely. Simply titled “Mega Man 2,” it's a rap/metal conglomerate remix that, in my opinion, is catchy and pretty well put-together.

There's also forkfuls of swearing, which is what seems to turn people off. I don't think Mega Man would belt out lyrics like “From the windows/To the walls/'Til the sweat drips from my ballz”, no matter what any Robot Master might throw at him. But I guess worse has happened for the sake of a rhyme.

If you want to start complaining about continuity errors, you may as well ask why this video has Rush despite the Mega Man 2 theme. Rush and Protoman.

Video after the jump. What do you think?

Related Links:

The Mega Man Robot Club
Mega Man 9 Bosses Look Like Mega Man Bosses
Scene Re-Dub Attempts To Make Up for Mega Man X4's Past Sins

Retro Horror: Canadian Game Prices

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 04:22:00 GMT

The reign of the SNES was a troubling time for me. The deluge of great games was seemingly never-ending, but I wasn't quite old enough to buy my own crack (that would come with the next generation of systems).

With my family, video games were very much a Sometimes treat. Here's the main reason why:

The Canadian dollar has never been a strongman—except for a brief stretch of time last year when the US dollar finally tanked entirely and the Loonie vaulted over the Greenback. The US dollar has since recovered (and I've put away the noose I wove for myself; most of my employers are American, and my bank thought I was the butt of a cruel joke), but it's not as powerful as it was in 1995.

So I dished out a lot of money for SNES games. God look back on the day when Nintendo announced it was sticking to cartridges for the N64, and have pity on my broken soul.

The 16-bit game purchase that stands out most in my mind is Final Fantasy VI. I scratched together my quarters and nickels for months, though I fell behind a few times when my brother discovered my stash and “borrowed” money for smokes.

I remember the purchase well because my father remembers it for me. When I got the dosh together, he picked up the game at Canadian Tire because I was busy.

The total, with tax: $115.00 CDN.

The clerk packed up the game and said, “This must be for a very special person.”

My dad said, “Nah.”

He also kept the Canadian Tire Money. There was a lot.

(Image courtesy of RetroJunk)

Comfort Through Gaming: Super Metroid's Dark Tunnels

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 21:12:00 GMT

I've been fighting a mutant cold all week, which means I just don't have the energy to tackle my shiny pile of virgin games. Yes, I am an example of humanity at its laziest and most spoiled. Any further down the ladder and I'll be a quivering puddle of goo that manipulates game controllers with an oozing pseudopod.

Surely you can relate, though. Mr Cole Stryker recently spoke of “relaxing games;” in the same vein, I have my stash of “comfort games.” Digital chicken soup. Something to turn to when I'm just not up to slogging through a ten-hour tutorial.

Games that don't make me work. Or even games with one special trait that brings me inner peace.

One such game is Super Metroid, fresh-picked from the Virtual Console. Super Metroid hovers near the top of everyone's list of favourite action games, and I'm no exception. But for me, the title really shines (somehow ironically, I suppose) because of its dark atmosphere.

Taken on their own, Super Metroid's backgrounds aren't very impressive. Combined with the moody music and the game's setting (deeper and deeper underground until Samus touches Norfair's molten core), they do a brilliant job. Though I really enjoyed Metroid Zero Mission and Metroid ~~Talking~~ Fusion, the detailed, colourful backgrounds in those games stood out like exclamations in the sombre simplicity of a temple. I don't want to be shouted at when I'm sick. I want to swaddle myself in thick, warming shades of dark purple and red.

I suppose simplicity just suits Samus well.

Related Links:

Metroid Prime Trilogy Retrospective: Part One
Rebuttal Rebuttal: I Stand With Metroid
Metroid: Wishful Thinking

Games That Baffled Me as a Child: Legacy of the Wizard

Bob Mackey — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 18:00:00 GMT

The most recent episode of Retronauts, about Japanese developer Falcom, brought back some fond childhood memories about a game that wanted to do nothing more than end my short life: Legacy of the Wizard. My fascination with the game was never marred by the fact that I barely made any progress and didn't really understand what I was supposed to be doing--keep in mind that instruction manuals were a luxury with rentals back in the 80s. What really drew me in and made me forget that I sucked on toast at LotW was the game's--at the time, anyway--unique design; I could be very wrong about this, but Legacy of the Wizard seems to be the most complex example of the Metroidvania genre's early years. Sure, there were games out there like Goonies II, but they didn't offer five playable characters and a (relatively) huge world to run around and be murdered in. And, in Falcom tradition, Legacy of the Wizard has a pretty kickass soundtrack--which is preferable to a Cyndi Lauper song on a constant loop.

I'm pretty sure I owe LotW credit for sparking my love of the Metroidvania genre, even though I wouldn't really realize said love existed until Super Metroid came along and made me realize that it was possible to make a game featuring relatively non-linear gameplay that's also possible to finish without the use of arcane knowledge. And while I've since moved on to explore the genre to its fullest, some sick, disturbed part of my brain is trying to make me attempt to play Legacy of the Wizard all over again. Luckily, in our modern Internet times I can work through these sick desires by watching Something Awful Forums member Deceased Crab's excellent video walkthrough (with commentary) of LotW and witness for the first time what it's like when someone actually knows where the hell to go in the game. It's a scary concept, I know, but we can get through this together.

The playlist for all of the videos in the series is HERE. DC also has a Goonies II video walkthrough that's worth watching, too.

Related Links:

I Would Drink Syke
Whatcha Playing: Guadia Quest
Pole’s Big Adventure: Sega Rides the Retro Train, Takes Advantage of You

Whatcha Playing: Guadia Quest

Nadia Oxford — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 01:29:00 GMT

“But Nadia! 'Guadia Quest' is just one part of the magnificent whole that is Retro Game Challenge!”

You're right, you little mathematician! But as fans of Retro Game Challenge are already well-aware, this DS title isn't merely a half-hearted mini game collection. That goes double for its RPG "parody."

Both my husband and I intended to play through Retro Game Challenge, but there is only one save file. We decided we'd split up the experience. I've been letting my husband to the lion's share of the work while I sit by and witness the outcome. I want to see what comes of Game Master Arino, the lonely Wizard of a digital Oz who went as far as to outfit himself with a paper crown from Burger King.

But I cannot chicken out by the sidelines for the entirety of the game. Someone needs to take up the sword and hack away at Guadia Quest. My husband doesn't know a hilt from a blade, whereas I was weaned on unicorn milk (and cocaine).

Guadia Quest is a loving tribute to the Dragon Quest days of olde...though drawing comparisons to Dragon Quest II might be more accurate, as both it and Guadia Quest are staffed by three warriors who are (kissin') cousins. To “complete” Guadia Quest and move on in Retro Game Challenge, you're required to grind to a certain level, collect a certain amount of money from dead monsters bodies, and slay a bad demon. I'm giddy over the whole experience; I feel like I'm ten again. Oh, for the days when I had to kill piles of slavering monsters just to turn their pockets inside-out for a few pennies.

Actually, I'm pretty okay with not having to to do that kind of thing anymore on a regular basis. Though it's kind of funny that I set aside Dragon Quest IV on the DS in order to play Guadia Quest. Is there a word in the dictionary for someone who defects from one nostalgic experience to another, deeper nostalgic experience?

Also, I named my warriors after swear words. Little Arino gave his opinion on the bottom half of the DS screen: “Oooooh! Interesting!”

Related Links:

Retro Game Challenge Is Out Today. You Will Buy It
The 61FPS Review: Retro Game Challenge
Old Man, Take a Look at My Life

The Making of Wrestle Jam from The Wrestler

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 03:28:00 GMT

The Wrestler walked away with my heart this year, even if it didn't walk away with any Oscars. I'm still shaking my fist in the direction of last Sunday. The spoor's going cold though, so I'm better off reading up about the small details that made the movie so heart-rending.

In one scene, Randy “The Ram” Robinson is silently coming to grips with the fact his body has become too broken-down for wrestling. He calls in a neighbour kid to play Nintendo with him—the 8-bit variety of Nintendo—and his game of choice is Wrestle Jam, a custom title with the soul of Pro Wrestling for the NES. As Randy and the neighbour kid click away as The Ram and The Ayatollah respectively, the boy, fed-up with the archaic game (and indeed, Randy himself) talks about Call of Duty 4. The discussion emphasises the old alongside the new, and in a few minutes, the game-based metaphor delivers a punch to the gut that's amplified by Mickey Rourke's perpetual hangdog face and scattered life.

The game scene goes by quickly, but it happens that Wrestle Jam is a fully-functioning game with pixelated graphics, 8-bit music, and (according to the brother and sister team behind its creation) “stupid enemy AI.”

Kotaku has an extensive look at the work that went behind Wrestle Jam, which apparently took graphics artist Kristyn Hume and programmer Randall Furino weeks to create.

What's interesting is that Director Darren Aronofsky recognises the symbolic potential of video games. Outside of The Wrestler, video game interludes are just something to keep characters' hands busy while they verbally recap events. Most actors don't have time for gaming, and thus don't know that mashing furiously on a control pad won't fool anyone involved in the pastime. The end result often looks silly, and is very distracting. Aronofsky made it clear that he wanted The Ram and the neighbour kid to actually play Wrestle Jam instead of doing the phantom button-mash so common to movies.

Robert Denerstein, a formerly a film critic at the Rocky Mountain News, notes that carefully thought-out scenes like the NES session in The Wrestler can add a lot to a movie—but they're rarely implemented.

"Given the prevalence of video games, you would think you'd see more of it. Advances in technology, like the introduction of the cell phone, have made things possible in storytelling that weren't possible before."

Take heed, Directors!

Related Links:

World WTF Federation: Wrestling Games?
Shigeru Miyamoto, The Heartbreak...Man?
Left 4 Dead Snaps into a Slim Jim

Chrono Trigger's Box Art Still Makes My Head Buzz

Nadia Oxford — Sat, 21 Feb 2009 03:07:00 GMT

I've never been a big fan of Chrono Trigger's box art. I love the game to pieces. I love its story, its music and its character designs. “Akira Toriyama” will be the last words to burst from my mouth in a bubble of blood when Mouseketeer revolutionaries, seeking to empower western animation, unsuccessfully try to force me to renounce my love for the manga-ka.

But I just don't dig on Chrono Trigger's cover illustration. It certainly doesn't rank anywhere in Mega Man's Hall of Box Art Horrors, but it's too busy, there's an inflated sense of intensity, and it was a jarring change from the quiet RPG labels I was used to in the 16-bit era. The boxes for Final Fantasy II and Final Fantasy III on the SNES weren't as stylish as their Super Famicom counterparts, but they were recognisable. The “T” styled as a sword in the American Final FantTasy logo, though not especially creative, was iconic. Square RPGs outside of Final Fantasy still featured calm box art that carried a hint of mystery about the contents within. Secret of Mana, for instance.

Chrono Trigger's box art, on the other hand, is bold and loud. Though it's obviously a finished piece of work, it feels like a piece of concept art that was randomly selected to represent the entire game. I look at it and I'm helpless to stop my mind from wandering into Geekville.

I start thinking, “Why is Heckran on Death Peak? Why is Crono alive on Death Peak? Wait, maybe that's 12,000,000 BC? Those winter clothes are actually kind of badass, but we never see anything like them. Why would Frog even bother to look for a contact lens that's buried in two feet of snow?” (I know, I know, it's the Arc Impulse Triple Tech—for which Marle is incorrectly casting a Fire spell).

Thirteen years later, my thoughts still stumble all over one another crying “But--but--but--!”, when I see the cover for Chrono Trigger. It makes the inside of my head feel like a car crash.

Everyone on the box also looks uncharacteristically snarly. I wouldn't laugh off a threat from a giant thorn-lizard that will only succumb to magic spells (*%&$&#!!!!!), but poor gentle Crono comes off as a spiky-haired Rambo. It just ain't right.

Related Links:

The Weakest Link: Chrono Trigger and Chrono Cross
The End of Time and the Beginning of Fan Drama
WTFriday: The Chrono Trigger Anime

Unsolicited Scares: Threed, Zombie Central

Nadia Oxford — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 22:26:00 GMT

All this talk about Earthbound and related disappointments made me hungry for a Skip Sandwich DX. I ate the sandwich with a mayo packet and began remembering what parts of Earthbound I liked best.

Earthbound is an unsettling game for a number of reasons. First, the party consists entirely of kids, and even though kids have a deserved reputation for never shutting up, Ness and his pals are quiet, stoic and very much focused on the task at hand. Second, the threat they're up against is ethereal, but Giygas' influence on the grown-up world is unmistakable: adults' greed is amplified, corruption amongst authorities is rampant, and there's that one town with the whole cult thing going on.

The third and possibly most potent reason for Earthbound's dark humour is its masterful blending of innocent colour and mood-setting music. If something bad is going down in a scenario, the sound will tell you before the visuals do. Any game that starts you off investigating an unidentified falling object in the dead of night with disjointed alien percussion as background music is a game that's not going to deliver warm fuzzies if it doesn't bloody well feel like it.

Obviously, Earthbound isn't meant to make your heart stop at any one moment—final battle excluded, maybe—but I've come to think of the party's visit to the town of Threed as Resident Evil Crayola.. Zombies and ghosts have taken over the city, but they're pretty goofy looking critters (less so with Handsome Tom and Smilin' Sam; sorry, I hate puppets). Even so, the darkness surrounding the town is oppressive, and the background music hardly indicates that Ness and Paula are attending a kids' Halloween party.

What's more, it quickly becomes apparent that the citizens are fighting a losing battle. Everyone who's left is slowly being herded into the centre of town; the outskirts are crawling with the undead. They're closing in, slithering around the broken-down circus paraphernalia litters the town's greenery. The “haunted circus” angle is an oldie, but it's definitely a goodie. As was stated earlier, Earthbound is all about mixing innocence with corruption—but whereas most games and movies make sure said innocent themes are trampled into the ground by the adult world's stinking grown-up realities, Earthbound lets innocence triumph. After all, it's shy and quiet Jeff who saves Paula and Ness in their greatest time of need.

Until that moment, though, Threed belongs to the dead.

Related Links:

Unsolicited Scares: Terranigma and the Desert
Abandon All Hope: No Earthbound for the Virtual Console
Earthbound in 3D