Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story – The Definitive Review (Includes Full Reviews of All 42 Games)

I like Jeff Minter. We both come from very different generations, and in fact, at the time I wrote this, you can reverse our ages. I’m 36. He’s 63. I’m an American. He’s English. He’s a game maker. I’m a game critic. But I firmly believe any two people who genuinely LOVE video games can strike-up a friendship. I got to talk with him a lot over, oddly enough, the long lost Atari coin-op that he recently remade: Akka Arrh. I even got to find out about his remake before it was announced. I was puzzled by Jeff’s selection of Atari projects. “Really, Akka Arrh? You’re doing a reclamation project of….. THIS?!” I had just started Akka Arrh and my initial impression was that I was going to give it a NO! Now Jeff wasn’t arguing with me that anything I said bad about the game was necessarily wrong. But he still predicted it would grow on me even though it seemed unlikely. Guess what? HE WAS RIGHT! “How the hell did he know that?” I’ve asked myself. Then it hit me: it probably happened the same way for him.

Jeff Minter, pictured here with his pet human. (whisper) Wait, HE’S the human? No. No, it’s called Llamasoft. (whisper) Awww. Well, that sucks. I thought all of these were the first video games programmed by a llama. I mean, they’re okay games. For human-made games. 🙁 I guess.

I learned from this documentary that he and I look at games the same way in that we’re seeking experiences. It’s not about rules or objectives or reaching an ending. It’s the road traveled. “The actual playing of the game should be the reward in and of itself” he says, and I feel exactly the same way. Jeff wants to make games where the fun comes from the experience of playing. Perfect. That’s the type of games I want to play. He calls it “the feedback loop.” I call it “the tempo.” It’s the same thing, people. That’s why it’s easy to connect to Jeff. He’s a gamer who makes games and has no ambition greater than to make an experience that puts a smile on your face. So yeah, I like Jeff Minter. I like him a lot. I’m happy he has his own set. A set that retails for $29.99 and therefore Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story has to make up $30 in value to win an overall YES! from me. I approached this the same way I did with Making of Karateka and Tetris Forever. I went through the documentary feature and played the games in the order they were presented (though I did go off the path a couple times). I had literally never played 40 out of 41 games in this set before. The only one I’ve previously played is Tempest 2000. So this is almost all brand new to me.

This review was made using a Nintendo Switch/Nintendo Switch 2. It should be mostly valid for all versions of this collection.

A  WORD ON EPILEPSY & PHOTOSENSITIVITY

Before I get to the feature, I do have to mention something troubling about this set. Digital Eclipse’s heart was in the right place by including the following disclaimer that you see every time you boot up Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story:

The problem is that they promise to warn players which games are bad with an icon. It’s a BIG problem for reasons I’ll explain. For readers finding me for the first time, I have epilepsy and I’m photosensitive. So warnings like these potentially help me a lot. Ironically, 2025 marked the 20th anniversary of my first seizure, which you can read about here. I don’t speak the King’s English, by the way. I’m from California. I think that’s the opposite of British, but I did that feature with Epilepsy Action in the UK and they ran my editorial through a filter that, among other things, turned the word “mom” into “mum.” Now my mom insists on being called “mum” and I hate you people for it. 🖕HATE!🖕 Either way, I was SO excited that Digital Eclipse included that icon. Except, they couldn’t have bungled it worse. You see, only two games in the entire collection are marked with that icon. It’s the two light synthesizer games Psychedelia and Colourspace. Needless to say, there’s many, many more games that have strobe effects that aren’t marked. One in particular, a collection of six mini-games called Batalyx, has a built in “strobe” toggle that was there in the 1980s that implies it removes the strobe effects:

There’s a few games that do this. Ancipital does as well. Though Ancipital did a better job of removing the strobes, it also wasn’t perfect about it.

But that toggle only removes a couple strobe effects, leaving the vast majority in the game, including ones far worse than the ones removed. I’ll give Jeff a pass because I’m going to assume in 1985 Jeff, like so many developers, assumed that people with photosensitivity didn’t play video games. But in 2023, when this set was first released, Digital Eclipse clearly did know that wasn’t the case. Now you would think a game that has a toggle specifically marked with “Stroboscopics” that still produces violent, frequent strobe effects would have the photosensitivity icon that, again, you see every time you boot up Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story, plus an additional warning that the game offers a built-in strobe toggle that doesn’t remove ALL the strobe effects (not even close). But it doesn’t. For either. None of the games in this collection besides the two VLMs have that icon.

Here’s why it matters: when you have an icon to warn people of potentially risky games, games NOT marked with that icon are implied to be safe by omission, and that’s insanely dangerous. That icon suggests to someone who isn’t aware of the risk factors associated with Jeff Minter’s catalog that someone carefully went through the catalog and made a list of risky games and not risky games. That’s clearly not the case. There are SO MANY games in this collection that strobe. I didn’t count them, but it might be as many as half, or more. People like me take calculated risks when we play video games. What this inaccurate, functionally useless warning icon does is screw with a person’s ability to calculate the risks. Let’s say you’re in a plane and the engine goes out and you’re crashing. You’re given two options: jump out of the plane using the parachutes or take the controls and attempt to land it. Obviously you jump for it, because having parachutes implies they work. But what if you’re not told the parachutes are every bit as faulty as the airplane’s engines were, and someone knew that and didn’t say? That’s what I mean by screwing up a person’s ability to assess risk. Here’s a clip from Batalyx.

In this clip, the “stroboptics” toggle starts ON, but then I restart the game and turn it OFF. Do you notice any difference? EPILEPSY WARNING to say the least.

Again, no icon for the above game, or any game but Psychedelia or Colourspace. That’s why I’m going to suggest that developers working on game collections should only issue one blanket warning for the entire collection and leave it at that. Don’t try to say which specific games are risky and which aren’t because stuff will get missed and then it’s kind of on you and not the person playing the games. By having a warning icon, you’re saying “we’re aware this is a problem for some people, but don’t worry because we’ve got your back.” And you don’t. I’m lucky because my doctors made it clear to me, in no uncertain terms: gaming will always be a risk for me, for the rest of my life. You don’t want someone who had a doctor who didn’t spell that out for them to get hurt playing your game. I know I have to take precautions like playing in a well-lit room and having distance from the screen, or in the case of this collection, playing on a Nintendo Switch 2 in handheld mode with the screen brightness turned so far down that it probably affected my overall experience.

Precautions that work for me *WORK FOR ME* but anyone who is or suspects they are photosensitive should talk to a doctor before playing any games instead of trying what I do. Seriously, I’ve had twenty years of figuring this stuff out, but no two photosensitivity cases are the same because brains are kind of unique. The bug zapper in my head? Custom made, bitches! Seriously, be safe and talk to actual experts and don’t do things because some idiot on the internet does it too. I shouldn’t even have to say that but apparently people will swallow spoonfuls of cinnamon or eat Tide pods because they saw someone else do it online. 

For the majority of games, I played with my screen brightness toggle set to here and placed my Switch 2 a couple feet away from me. By the way, since distance from the screen is such a key to my safety, it forever makes VR out of reach for me, which means a lot of Jeff’s modern games are ones I can never play.

One final point of photosensitivity: it’s a misnomer that seizures are the most common side effect. In fact, they’re one of the rarer ones. A lot of people are photosensitive and don’t even know it. Ever gotten a headache from strobe lights? Congratulations: you’re likely photosensitive! You should seriously talk to a doctor because it can get worse (and more sensitive) over time. The overwhelming majority of people who are photosensitive never get diagnosed, but one of the most common ways people who suffer migraine headaches experience their first one is through being triggered by light stimuli. I’ve never had a migraine headache, but I’ve heard stories. Strobe effects trigger migraine headaches and other side effects such as nausea, loss of balance, blurred vision, ringing in ears, loss of appetite, confusion, and tons of other things. Nobody should have to stress about those things while playing video games. So be more mindful in the future, please. I’m all about a developer’s creative vision coming before my needs. I’m grateful every time these effects can be turned off with a toggle. If no such toggle exists, I can play a different game. There’s thousands of options. But I do have to draw the line at toggles that don’t work, or icons that don’t accurately identify all the risks thus implying safety where there is none.

And this isn’t anger at Jeff. Guys, Jeff and I are cool. He even gave me a quote for this feature. And I’m cool with the Digital Eclipse guys too. I’d even say I’m friends with all these people. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt playing a video game. Games are people’s escape from the harshness of reality. You don’t want to take that away from anyone, so be smart and be safe, whether you’re a game player or a game maker. It’s OUR pastime. All of ours.

Alright, enough of this serious crap. Let’s talk about llamas and camels and sheep, oh my!

PRESENTATION & FEATURES

Seconds after this photo was taken, Jeff slipped and fell into the waterfall only to be rescued by Superman. Jeff then said “again! Again!” but Superman told him there was a limit of one flight to a customer. True story. They put it in a movie and everything!

Jeff Minter is the original indie developer. Arguably THE face of indie gaming for an entire era. If there were an indie game hall of fame, it’d be housed in a building called the Minter Center or something along those lines. There’s a lovable sad sack quality to his story. The man took forever to make the jump to video game consoles because they weren’t big in the UK. When he finally did, he hitched his wagon to such failed consoles as The Atari Panther and Konix Multi-System. The latter of which eventually evolved in a roundabout kind of way into the Atari Jaguar. Later still, he ended up developing Tempest 3000 for Nuon-abled DVD players. Aww Jeff. Jesus Christ, man. You wouldn’t want to stand next to this guy in a lightning storm. By the way, Tempest 3000 isn’t in this set because Nuon was “a bridge too far” from an emulation point of view. Wait, there actually IS a Nuon? I assumed it was a Sidd Finch-like inside joke among gaming media. Huh. Learn something new everyday.

This feature uses the same engine from Atari 50, Making of Karateka, Tetris Forever, etc. This is my yearly reminder to Digital Eclipse that if you EVER move off this engine, I will muster an army of mutant camels to storm your offices. I KNOW HOW TO NOW! I LEARNED IT FROM THIS COLLECTION, GODDAMMIT! That was dumb of you to teach a nut like me how to do that! Seriously, this formula is just perfect. It’s a guided museum tour and it’s perfect. No notes. Well, actually I guess it would be nice to be able to reset the “percentage seen” stuff. Or having a quick list of video interviews. Okay, well, there is room for improvement BUT KEEP THE STYLE! (points at the mutant camels) They’re hungry for Digital Eclipse flesh. Don’t make me feed them.

But Jeff’s story is a cool one. I kind of wish this was a more comprehensive look at his life, in the same way Tetris Forever was for the guys behind Tetris. There’s fewer interviews than in other Gold Master releases, and the interviews do have some audio/volume inconsistencies. Nothing as bad as, say, Henk Rogers’ rogue mustache hair that was so distracting during Tetris Forever. Let’s see that again, for old time’s sake.

I still can’t believe they let that hair host the 2025 Game Awards. I wonder if Henk got a finder’s fee?

Seriously though, the audio levels in Llamasoft needed correcting, but the actual content in them is really good. Some of them I really didn’t expect, but once again, Digital Eclipse scratched off the taboo stuff. Like the famous tiff between Zzap! 64 game critic Gary Penn and Jeff Minter? That gets a full video that’s pretty frank for a set like this. Especially one that actually includes the offending game, Mama Llama. But I’m happy it’s in there because it shows Jeff has gained maturity as a game designer in the years since then. It gets even better because, alongside the normal box art and advertisements you expect in a collection like this, Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story contains the full review from Gary Penn that sparked this whole feud, along with angry letters from fans. This led to Jeff working as a part time columnist for Zzap, and some of those articles are included as well. Full magazine features. Very cool. More of that in future sets please, Digital Eclipse.

What Gary Penn said here really landed with me because I’m kind of in the same boat. I like half of Jeff’s games and didn’t like the others. If you’re a prolific game maker, batting .500 ain’t bad. In the case of this collection, a LOT of my NO! verdicts were based around input lag that’s part of the ZX Spectrum experience. I just can’t deal with it. Subtract those from the tally and Jeff did PRETTY GOOD in this set, I think. UPDATE: I really didn’t mean to offend ZX Spectrum fans with that “part of the ZX Spectrum” line. I guess I’ve had bad luck with ZX Spectrum games and input lag (and in fairness, I felt lag on other computer platforms in Tetris Forever and Making of Karateka) but I’ve been assured that it’s not a universal thing. And yeah, Sinclair computers weren’t the only ones with input lag in this set (Ratman for example).

In total, there’s twelve video interviews that do a good enough job of covering the story of Jeff Minter in a general way that it’s hard to be disappointed in what’s here. I’m more disappointed in what’s not here, IE more interviews specific to the lineup. Additionally, there’s a sizzle reel of all the light synthesizers that Jeff developed over the years called “VLM, Through the Years” that was SUCH a tease since this package only contains two VLMs (well, three if you count the stripped down version of Psychedelia in Batalyx). There’s also a “Gameography” that features Jeff Minter’s game catalog of 61 total games that has at least one screen shot for each game, including ones that aren’t playable in this collection. Again, more teasing (though not as bad as the one in SNK 40th Anniversary, also by Digital Eclipse. HEY, I should do a Definitive Review of that one sometime soon, hint hint).

You also get basic primers on all the platforms that Jeff worked on. Again, I appreciated these. And yes, I already have a picture of the ZX81 with the same text taken from the menu. I didn’t want to post too many “spoilers” from the feature.

Outside the interviews, there’s several little text snippets called “Minter-Views” that were sometimes insightful, sometimes funny, or sometimes taken as a quote from long ago. He cracked me up pretty badly by describing Defenda as “cack.” I need a British word-of-the-day calendar. Apparently that means “sh*t.” You know what? I totally agree with you, Jeff: it IS cack. I admire that he’s tough on his original games. Trust me, I’ve come across plenty of developers who think their cack don’t stink. Jeff is easy to cheer for because he recognizes his own learning curve. Anyway, “Minter Views” are fine but I still would have preferred more videos, even short ones, where he talks about each game in detail, especially since he’s such a great storyteller. He’s personable and charming and easy to root for. Don’t get me wrong: you get a LOT of Jeff’s opinions in other ways. This collection has many of the newsletters that Jeff published called “Nature of the Beast.” Issues 1 – 10 are included EXCEPT Issue #7, which I assume is the controversial issue where Jeff proclaimed that alpacas are just llamas that lack ambition. He didn’t really say that. I did.

There’s SO MANY magazine features in this thing. Now yeah, you can go to the Internet Archive and find all of these, but as a curated list of articles focused on Llamasoft, I enjoyed the inclusion of these quite a lot. And yes, you can zoom in on these. Again, I didn’t want to spoil their special features.

I’m guessing (only guessing) one of the reasons why the documentary stuff isn’t more comprehensive is because this was apparently made in collaboration with another documentary currently in production called “Heart of Neon” that’s about the life of Jeff Minter and his partner Ivan Zorzin, aka Giles the Goat. (I typed that as “Heart of Nuon”.) Maybe Digital Eclipse didn’t want to usurp Heart of Neon’s (yep, did it again) momentum, but what’s here feels like just a sample of a bigger story. With that said, in terms of variety, this offers a pretty dang good cliff notes museum look at the life and times of Jeff Minter. It’s a feel good story. Like, I literally started weeping at one point when Jeff got choked up talking like he couldn’t believe how happy some of his games made people. That really got me. You’re a good man, Jeff Minter.

What’s missing? Well I almost said “Giles the Goat” but he does show up in the final non-Heart of Neon (AHHHHHHH! Mother f*cker, Cathy! There is something wrong with you!) trailer in timeline, called “Llamasoft’s Later Years.” But the timeline is missing a few things that I would have enjoyed a lot. One of my favorite features in Making of Karateka were the audio commentaries. Now those would be harder to do in non-linear games. No doubt about it, and the majority of games in this collection are arcaders. But, I have faith that Digital Eclipse could come up with a solution anyway. Maybe situational things where the actions pauses to load the commentary when, say, a new enemy first appears or when a level theme changes. Then the action resumes afterward with the commentary playing, then it pauses the game if you finish the stage before the commentary finishes. See, those commentaries not only provide game-specific history lessons for people interested in such things (raises hand) but also can serve as inspiration for the next generation of Jeff Minters out there. Plus they’re just plain cool.

Why did they film this so creepily? I thought Michael Myers was going to pop out and stab someone. Or, what if this machine is actually THE BISHOP OF BATTLE?! And now I kind of want Jeff to make a Bishop of Battle game. Actually he’d probably make it VR and then I couldn’t play it. F*ck it, he should do it anyway. As if *I* could beat the Bishop.

And yeah, there’s a lot of missing games. I’m not the first critic to note that Jeff’s entire post-Tempest 2000 career is missing. And, since I consider this a thing on Digital Eclipse’s end, I would have preferred more Remastered games. The one we got, Gridrunner: Remastered, is really good. Most Digital Eclipse Remastered games are. This formula has literally never gotten a NO! from me. Two games stand out that would have been perfect: Laser Zone and, (sigh) Attack of the Mutant Camels. I didn’t like a single Attack of the Mutant Camels game, but this set wasn’t made for me, either. It’s fan service. There’s also some missing games from platforms they did include like Atari ST that I would have enjoyed playing, even if they were crap. As strong as the documentary was, it’s still clearly the weakest of the entire Gold Master Series yet. I expected to give it less than $20 in value, but I found myself enjoying going through it a second time while I edited this feature. The rich variety of magazine articles and his behind the scenes notes which seem to be written in the same language my hand also writes 😛 were more than enough to satisfy me, even if it left me wanting more. So, for all presentation and features, I’m awarding $20 in value to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story, which you can subtract $10 from if you have no interest in old ads, box art, concept art, etc. Even if you’re not into print ads/concept art, don’t forget to read the magazine features included. They’re often pretty interesting.

EMULATION

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As expected, Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story offers a nearly fully-charged Infinity Gauntlet of Emulation. Rewind, save states, button mapping, screen filters, etc. There is a catch: not every platform is capable of pulling off every emulation trick. Most of the games you’d want to have rewind have it. Only one lacks save states, and that’s the unfinished proof of concept for Attack of the Mutant Camels ’89, which is a prototype for the never released Konix Multi-System. There’s literally no reason to need save states for that one (the game is like 40% finished), but like all other games, it does have full button mapping. Some games even have cheat code toggles, though some games don’t offer this despite those games having cheat codes for infinite lives.

You can absolutely feel the difference when you turn on Tempest 2000’s 60FPS option. By the way, Atari 50 also offers this for Tempest 2000.

One interesting tidbit is that Atari ST games are actually ports of ST games running on a Jaguar emulator. There’s a lot of extra-effort bells & whistles. Llamatron: 2112 offers twin-stick gameplay. Tempest 2000 offers analog controls and hardware overclocking, bumping its performance up to 60fps. But, as a reminder, if you want to preserve your high scores between play sessions, you have to lay down a save state after you enter your name into the game’s leaderboard and then reload the state when you return. That’s annoying but, in my opinion, not worthy of a loss in value. I do have one major problem: I found out that at least one ROM, for Iridis Alpha, crashes when you reach the bonus stage. Jeff later corrected this, but Digital Eclipse used the original, faulty ROM. I can’t just let that go. (UPDATE: Apparently Batalyx also misbehaves, not allowing you to transfer seamlessly from game to game.) Even if I didn’t like the game, some people did, and those fans deserved the best possible version of it. Actually, collections should contain EVERY version of each game and notes on what was changed from version to version. It is supposed to be like a museum, after all. For all the emulation options, I award the max $10 in value to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story, but I’m fining $5 for not including updated ROMs that fixed crashes/bugs. Thank you to my friend Jason for calling this to my attention.

UPDATE: I’ve heard some things about Llamatron: 2112 having issues with sound and just not being a good version of the Atari ST original. I made a note in the review. I can only review the game in the collection and not the game they didn’t include, but in the not too distant future, I’ll revisit the ST games in this set.

I would love to have had a video just about all the failed machines that Jeff was tapped to develop for. The Konix Multi-System especially. It looks like the thing from one of the bumpers in Starship Troopers. “A murderer was captured this morning and tried today. Sentence, death. Execution tonight at 6:00. All net. All channels. WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?”

“INSTRUCTIONS? WE DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ INSTRUCTIONS!”

Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story features some pretty damn complex games paired with some of the most useless instruction books I’ve seen. Okay, so the plots contained within those books are cute and wacky and I enjoyed them well enough. But instruction books should, you know, teach you how to play a game. Gaming is a visual medium, but most instruction books in this set are text only. Frankly, I don’t think that’s acceptable for any video game that isn’t a 100% sound-based game. But plain text explanations of some of these games really isn’t enough. No screenshots. No context. Just words to explain games like Mama Llama or Iridis Alpha. I had to look up YouTube videos of people who understood how to play these games, and when I did, I noticed those videos tended to have a lot of comments along the lines of “I’ve had this game for thirty years and I never understood it until now! Thank you!” If people who are home computer game fans couldn’t figure these games out in literal decades, why the hell would you rely on only them for any generation of gamers? It’s either cruel or lazy. Take your pick. Here’s the Mama Llama instruction book:

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For such a complex, original game, it’s not helpful. At all. That doesn’t have to be a problem. As I type this, I’m playing Jeff’s remake of Akka Arrh and he does now understand how to do tutorials and have proper instruction. Awesome. But just because Jeff didn’t know that in 1983 – 1991 doesn’t mean a collection in the 2020s should leave it that way. Digital Eclipse could have included modern explanation screens like they have for other collections. They didn’t, and this is a collection with a lot of games that are, by design, unintuitive. The games are certainly not presented in a way that maximizes their potential enjoyment. Jeff Minter fans will probably scream bloody murder about that, but imagine this wasn’t a Jeff Minter set. Imagine this was a chess game that offered only text instructions and feels like it’s rolling its eyes at you if you don’t just somehow read the plain text and understand how Chess works. Imagine explaining the concept of castling with just plain text, or how pawns capture, or how knights move. If that’s not cool for chess, why is it okay for a video game? Because the guy raises llamas? Hardly seems right.

(blinks) Okay Cathy, say something nice or the bearded man will transform you into a Human Centilama. Um………. Oh, the story about why the hamster is named “Rory” was adorable. Seriously, no joke, I got a tiny bit teary eyed just because it’s such a sweet little thing Jeff did for a kid out there. What a sweetheart. Well, unless the girl wanted Rory to be the hero and later saw that Jeff made Rory into an evil, malicious bastard. Then the story is kind of hilarious. So, does this mean I won’t have my mouth sewn to the business end of a llama? Cool. (wipes sweat)

I don’t get why a collection that’s trying to honor a person would take such a hostile stance towards having the games make sense. By the way, almost none of these games have a presence on GameFAQs or StrategyWiki either. I’m so disappointed because sets like these should be accommodating to gamers of all skill levels and should be as accessible as humanly possible, and this feels like it’s only for fans Jeff already had who know how to play these games (or maybe don’t, going off those YouTube comments). Even though, logically, those people already own the games and don’t need a collection like this. I’ve been debating what to do about this for weeks, and it’s moot since even if I fined the full price of the set, the documentary and the games make up the lost value. So far, Jeff’s fans have been great, but the lack of modern instructions made me feel like an unwelcome party crasher. So, let’s do this: 41 games times $0.25 a game, round to the nearest dollar. I’m fining Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story $10 in value for poor instructions. And I’ll be using that standard from now on with every collection.

FINAL VALUE BEFORE PLAYING A SINGLE GAME: $15

Whoa. Usually these Digital Eclipse sets already have earned the cost by this point. This is kind of weird. Thankfully, there’s forty two games to play. Or, technically 41 + 1 unfinished prototype.

GAME REVIEWS

For those not familiar with my way of thinking of how retro games should be reviewed, I take NO historical context into account, at least for the games themselves. I don’t care how important a game was to the industry, because that doesn’t make a game worth playing today. The test of time is the cruelest test of all, but every video game must face it. I might not be here if not for Pong’s success, but I wouldn’t want to play it today. Not when there’s better options. Therefore, when I review retro games, every game gets either a YES! or a NO!

YES! means the game is still fun and has actual gameplay value when played today and is worth seeking out.

NO! means the game didn’t age gracefully and is not worth seeking out, and certainly not worth spending money on.

VALUE DISCLAIMER: The value I award any game in any collection, be it a real collection or a hypothetical one, should NOT be compared to the values I award games in other Definitive Reviews. All values are only relative to the other games in the collection I’m reviewing.

Please note that games are presented in a different order in the documentary. These reviews are presented in the order they’re listed in the collection’s game menu.

3D 3D!
Platform: Sinclair ZX81
Year: 1981
Designed by Jeff Minter

It’s actually impressive for the era. I mean, wow, look. That’s a legit 3D game that takes place in a 3D space. In 1981. Wow!

Like many millennials, my gaming life started at the dawn of the modern 3D gaming era. The first video game assembled by Santa’s elves specifically for me was Crash Bandicoot, which I got for Christmas in 1996, the same year Super Mario 64 released. Fifteen years before that, Jeff Minter made this elaborate 11x11x11 3D maze. And 3D 3D! really is just a maze. No ghosts chasing you. No locked doors. No mystical treasure to find. Just “find the exit.” A pioneering 3D game was never fated to age gracefully, but Digital Eclipse did their damnedest to prove otherwise. They added completely optional modern first person 3D controls using dual sticks and hardware acceleration, almost completely eliminating the “draw time” that the original hardware would have required for shading the walls (which you have to turn on manually). And they do help, actually. My biggest problem with playing 3D3D was, shaded walls or not, I found myself constantly becoming disoriented while playing it. It’s hard to retain the concept of forward, up, down, and behind you. It was only when moving left and right that I didn’t feel like I had completely lost my sense of direction. I imagine it would be like trying to navigate one of those McDonald’s style tubes and tunnels playgrounds in zero gravity.

You’re trying to get the lowest final score possible. Every time you use the map, you add ten points. Then, while using the map, any time you ask where the shafts that transfer you upward are, you get pinged another ten points.

The lack of equilibrium made it especially hard for me to cheese 3D3D by just following the traditional “keep your hand on a wall and follow it” rule for solving a maze. Even if my inner compass wasn’t on the fritz, the “hand on wall” rule wouldn’t work without slight modification. The cube twist prevents that. If you choose to use the map, only the shafts that transfer you up a floor are marked. Of course, you’ll want to be moving up and down through the maze. Some of the floors are entirely made up of dead ends on all sides. After I spent the better part of a day having my family scream directions at me while I basically ran laps between the 6th and 8th floors, I started over and fell ass backwards onto the solution. “Jeez, it seems like I went up a lot of floors there. Let me check the map and ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

I wonder if Jeff is reading this and starting to convulse as he realizes the game lacks llamas.

The fact that I actually felt compelled to finish 3D 3D! at least once for reasons besides the sake of this review probably speaks louder to its value than anything I could write. It’s the type of novelty experience you want to say you completed, just for the sake of it. Yea, it’s an old computer maze game where the bells & whistles are the ability to shade a solid wall in. I don’t really factor a game’s historic status as a curio into my verdicts, but once a game gets that YES! on its gameplay merits, I admit that I’m always a little happy when a pioneering game exceeds my expectations of what can and cannot survive the test of time. I literally can’t imagine what 3D 3D! must have been like for gaming fans in 1981. A taste of things to come? Maybe. I’m just happy that I never got bored. Once I got the hang of the concept of looking up before moving up and then turning my head back to a forward facing position, I actually did have fun. If I’m disappointed by anything, it’s that Digital Eclipse didn’t slap together one of their Reimagined games for this. Otherwise, I have to admit I thought this would certainly be a NO! when I fired it up, and it’s not. We’re off to a good start.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Centipede
Platform: Sinclair ZX81
Year: 1981
Designed by Jeff Minter

It’s like playing a game on one of those pocket calculators not made for games.

“Likely fated to age badly” is going to pop up a lot in these early reviews. Forget the test of time. This take on Centipede, with its complete lack of colors and sound effects that the coin-op relies on for all of its charm, probably had little chance of surviving the test of next year in 1981. There’s one gameplay twist to Llamapede that I did find genuinely fascinating: misfired bullets can functionally act as blocks that impede the pedes. In other words, if your timing is just off and your bullet passes just in front of a centipede, it functions like the mushrooms and causes the centipede to drop a level and change directions as if it ran into a wall on the playfield. It’s actually an interesting concept that I’d like to see future games based on Centipede explore further. Unless they already do that and I somehow never noticed.

This whole idea might make for a fascinating Game Jam concept. Have the host DESCRIBE an imaginary game, and then everyone at the Game Jam competes to see who can make the closest to what the host is describing. My review system is not designed to take a bow, but seriously, I’m taking a bow right now to Jeff Minter because, given the circumstances, this is kind of insane, people. He came REALLY close to Centipede without ever having seen it in motion.

Sticking to this version, I just didn’t like it. Even after adjusting to make the game faster or slower, this Centipede has too slow of bullets and demands too much accuracy in your firing. The bigger historic “twist” for this edition of Centipede is that Jeff created this unauthorized port based on screenshots and second hand accounts of what the gameplay was like. He’d never actually played Centipede or even seen it in motion. THAT is amazing and I take my hat off to him. While my heart gives him historic points for one of gaming’s greatest examples of the telephone game (it’s remarkable how close he came to the real deal), this take on the Atari classic isn’t very fun at all.
Verdict: NO! But a very, very impressed NO!

Deflex V
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1981
Designed by Jeff Minter

It ain’t much to look at, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the most addictive games I’ve played in one of these sets.

Although it won’t win any awards for presentation, Deflex V sure is a charmer. It’s such a stupidly simple concept: a ball is bouncing back and forth, and you have to lay down walls to deflect it into a target on the screen. Each wall is dropped to cause an immediate deflection of the ball, which makes things a little tricky, as there’s only two dropping buttons: left and right, but they don’t really reflect which way the ball will deflect. since where the ball will go depends on which direction the ball is traveling. I can’t remember the last time such a simple game had such a sharp learning curve. The longer the game goes, the more clogged up the screen gets with walls. The playfield can have a max of twenty walls total. Attempt to lay more than that and a potential seizure-causing penalty screen appears. I’m not sure what’s worse: the screen flashing or the sound it makes when it happens. It sounds like a duck being electrocuted. Not that I would know what that sounds like. 😶 Okay, I do know. I had a weird experience once in Chile. But I don’t like to talk about it.

Remember what I said earlier about how more than just two games should have had that warning icon? Yeah, this is one of them. It only took three games to get there.

The game can be played two ways: with stationary targets and with moving targets. Oddly, when you play the moving target mode, the ball travels at a high speed no matter what difficulty you cue up. Honestly, I felt the stationary target was the stronger of the two modes. There were multiple times in the moving target mode where the ball seemed to hit the target but I didn’t get credit for it. Oddly, the target also disappears for a fraction of a second when that happens. Besides, the stationary target mode felt more like a video sport. By the time I finished my session with it, I was actually kind of stoked to check out the updated versions on this concept still to come in this collection. The only reason I didn’t put more value on this is because it was, in fact, replaced by better versions later on.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Ratman
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

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My expectations for Ratman were set pretty low. Why’s that? Because the feature itself has Jeff talking smack on his own game. I thought “well, we’re our own worst critics. How bad can it be?” The answer is pretty f’n bad. Ratman is a game that I would describe somewhere between the words “unplayable” and “broken.” After Making of Karateka, I thought my days of playing games with super-extreme unresponsiveness were over, but this is on an entirely different level. At its (cold black evil little) heart, Ratman is a whack-a-mole game that has more in common with LCDs than most PC titles from this era. The catch is there’s a hole in the ground that doesn’t seem to kill you, but any mice that make it through become “devils” that poke you with spears. The problem is the game simply does not listen to your commands most of the time. I’d say as much as 90% of your inputs go unregistered. I’d tap the button like crazy to swing a hammer, sometimes pressing the button as many as a dozen times (I counted) before the hammer would actually swing. Holding down the button didn’t improve the massive delay in this, or in steps taken. This might be the worst video game I’ve ever played. It’s completely, utterly broken. It’s okay though, Jeff. The Ratman forgive you.. this time.
Verdict: NO!

Superdeflex
Platform: Sinclair ZX Spectrum
Year: 1982*
Designed by Jeff Minter

*In the documentary, the games are featured in a different order but, in this feature, they’re listed in the order they’re presented in the games menu.

Like the previous Deflex game, only a lot more complicated and a LOT less responsive.

A potentially superior take on the previous Deflex concept, Superdeflex retains the basic “ball bounces non-stop, drop walls to deflect into targets” concept, but with a few twists and, unfortunately, one major drawback. Here’s the good news: this time, the ball is an alien that you’re guiding to 10 exits per level. Each new level adds extra challenges such as enemies, pits, walls, and clusters of existing walls that can cause domino rally-style chain reactions. The toughest of the obstacles was easily the lightning strikes. At first, I thought they were totally random. They’re not, but you have to look closely to know where they’re aimed. Two tiny little bumps in the north and south walls act as the lightning rods. It’s tough to see them, but once I did, dodging them could have been a lot of fun. Now, for the bad news: like many games in this collection, the concept is failed by laggy, unreliable controls. Timing-based games like this have to either be perfect or, failing that, have a predictable lag that you can clock and account for every single time. Unpredictable and inconsistent lag is something I don’t think I can ever have fun with. It’s just not an enjoyable challenge to overcome because, frankly, you don’t “overcome it.” You just luck out when it doesn’t screw you. Tragically, Superdeflex also had several instances where pressing a button didn’t lay a wall at all. I’m sorry to say it, but for a game like this, that’s a deal breaker.
Verdict: NO!

It was at this point I quit working on this Definitive Review for a year-and-a-half. I figured most games would be laggy like these. Thankfully, that’s not the case. Oh, a few more games are ruined by the unresponsive button presses, but it will come to an end eventually. Surely there has to be a way to make these better. You mean to tell me we can explore Pluto but we can’t make a computer game from 1982 not lag?

City Bomb
aka Bomber

Platform: Sinclair ZX Spectrum
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

I got to the point where I could semi-consistently beat the first stage on the lowest setting, but it’s hard to play a game like this when you press the button to drop a bomb and the game is like “fill out these forms and we’ll need two pieces of ID. You can expect a decision on whether or not you dropped a bomb within seven-to-ten working days.”

Based on the famous Atari game Canyon Bomber and the 1982 Falklands War, Bomber was originally titled, and I’m not joking, “Bomb Buenos Aires.” Jeff’s sentiment was actually satirical and anti-war, but that doesn’t translate at all to a game title. It reminds me of a famous Kevin Smith story where he joked to New York Post film critic Lou Lumenick about how he was thinking about suing Tim Burton for ripping off a visual from a comic Smith did in Burton’s Planet of the Apes remake. Smith’s tongue was firmly in his cheek and he was giggling the whole time. The context that he was clearly joking was lost along the way, so the blunt print where it said “he’s currently contemplating legal action” came across as dead serious and caused a little bit of a problem for Smith. And that’s basically what happened here. “Bomb Buenos Aires” is stark and blunt and sounds pretty heartless because there’s no context. Thankfully, this happened in 1982 and not 2025. Jeff was a 20 year old kid in 1982 and, get this, 20 year old video game makers aren’t media savvy.

I’m bummed out because I’ve really grown to dig Canyon Bomber’s gameplay format. It’s addictive.

Meanwhile, I’m thinking “all this hubbub over a terrible Canyon Bomber knock-off?” I can sum up this review really easily: you need games like this to be responsive, and Bomber is not. Sometimes the button to drop the bomb just plain doesn’t work. If the lag was consistent enough that you could adjust to it, that would be one thing. But the delay is unpredictable. It can happen even if you wait a while between bomb drops. I wish when it comes to these old PC games that have lag that, in addition to the original game file, they’d create an idealized approximation of what the intent was. Thankfully, I’ll get to review the real Canyon Bomber (or at least David Crane’s 2600 port of it) when I review Atari 50. Which I swear to God I will eventually.
Verdict: NO!

Rox III
Platform: Sinclair ZX Spectrum
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

A great metaphor for the set as a whole.

Well, if nothing else, Rox III provided my family and I with fits of laughter that I’ll never forget. This is sort of like a stripped down version of the Atari 2600 “classic” Atlantis in that you’re trying to intercept incoming enemies from a stationary position. Instead of three different defensive positions, all your missiles are launched from a central platform in three directions: left, straight up, and right. The enemy asteroids, on the other hand, have a few different channels they can travel down and they can change speeds and eventually even lanes. The timing is unpredictable to the point of feeling luck-based. I broke my family because I had an uncanny knack for near misses grazing the target before going right past them. For god’s sake, people of Earth, do not ever put me in charge of planetary defense.

You don’t die immediately if an asteroid hits the ground, as it’s only when they punch through the ground that it’s game over. The distribution is based on pure chance. I had a game where I missed everything but the sky itself in the first wave and still survived to the next round because the asteroids were distributed across the playfield, but I also had a game where I was killed in the first round because the rocks seemed to be aimed at one spot. Where Rox III really confused me is sometimes I missed but the asteroids seemingly did no damage at all to the terrain. A bigger problem is, once again, we’re playing a timing-based game that has unpredictable input lag that sucks all the fun out of a potentially addictive idea. My family did enjoy laughing at me, but that’s not included in the Llamasoft package. What is included in the package is a much, much better version of Rox, coming up in a little bit.
Verdict: NO!

Turboflex
Platform: Atari 8-Bit*
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

*They seem to have forgotten to include a portal to this in the documentary. The cover art is part of the timeline, but not a way to play the game. You have to access it from the game menu. A last second addition, perhaps? If so, good call including it.

You’re probably reading this just a few minutes after my last “Flex” review, but I played Turboflex a year-and-a-half after Superdeflex, and I had no muscle memory from my prior experiences. Thus, I had to once again rewire my brain to know which way the ball would bounce. Once I did, yep, this is the superior version of the Flex series thanks to having the most responsive controls. Guide a ball to an exit with two buttons and nothing else. This is bare-bones basic, with each loss of life bumping you to the next difficulty level. If you play on the lowest setting, the exit is stationary at first, then it starts to move after you die. Eventually the ball moves faster and the exit will reverse directions when you lay down a wall. It’s the type of simple but potent time waster that works around the weaknesses of hardware instead of trying to brute-force overcome it. While it doesn’t have all the additional features or obstacles seen in Superdeflex, I prefer this optimized version by a big margin. It’s the best game in the collection so far. One final thought on the Flex series: Jeff was so ahead of his time, because this would have been the ideal mobile game thirty years later. You know, I typed that, then I thought “how would that work?” Suddenly I don’t think it would. Okay. Move along.
Verdict: YES! – $2 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Abductor
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

My best game came from me defending this one guy on the far right of the screen with my final life. I ended up with 11K. The instruction manual says that super players should be able to get 15K, so I really did try but never came that close.

You know what I love about this set devoted to the games of one single developer? You can literally feel the learning curve if you experience these games in sequential order. Like someone trying to scale the warped-wall in Ninja Warrior who is so close that they’re getting their finger tips on the top. Abductor is a NO! game that can catch the faint aroma of a YES! I enjoy a nice, old school fixed-screen shooter, and Abductor has potential for that. Waves of fast-moving enemies fly onto the screen in single-file formations that twist and turn around. You have to gun them down before they kidnap six humans at the bottom of the screen. The twist is that, for the first three waves, you’ve only got a small gun, but after that, you automatically, and permanently, power-up into a double gun. Yeah, that’s really weird. Even if you die after that third wave, you come back to life as the double. Never seen THAT before. So, what’s the problem? Well, instead of enemies just spawning from the top of the screen, they can also spawn from below, killing you before you can even see their sprite.

Now the patterns aren’t random so you can brute-force memorize Abductor, but I’m still ain’t a fan of that design mentality. I’m also not a fan of the odds that your bullets will randomly fail increasing as you go along. That’s literally a feature in the game, as the manual says “the probability of shots ‘bouncing off’ the Alien ships’ hulls increases (as you progress).” Well fudge, that’s just a very, very bad idea on so many levels, most of all because the enemies in this game are so damn fast moving. The rescue idea is also a little bungled. When the aliens capture the humans, you can have a small window to shoot them down to return the humans to the ground. Well, except during the first three waves, where your starting ship’s bullets literally cannot reach the furthest left and furthest right humans. Hmph. The best thing I can say about Abductor is there’s no lag to movement or shooting, which I wasn’t expecting at all for this phase of the set. This is a very important step towards better games, but this doesn’t hold up.
Verdict: NO!

Alright, enough of this crap. Let the masterpieces start to flow, baby!

Gridrunner
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1982
Designed by D.J. Jazzy Jeff. No wait, Jeff Minter.

Ahhhhhh. This is the good stuff.

Gridrunner is arguably Jeff’s most famous game, but I’d never played any version of it. My first thought when I booted up this first of multiple versions of it was “another Centipede? Good God, I’m never going to escape this game.” That lasted, oh, about fifteen seconds. Gridrunner ain’t Centipede. Well, not exactly, but “not exactly” in the best ways. This is one of the most intense and rewarding arcade-style games I’ve ever played, and it’s so good. There’s four versions of the original Gridrunner in Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story so I’ll try to be brief and specific to each port after this overview. The basic idea is that Gridrunner is a more “aggression from all-sides” take on Centipede. The most noticeable difference between this and the Atari classic are the two lasers that prowl the sidelines along the left and bottom walls outside the playfield.

Ded.

This is the “grid” part of Gridrunner, because the left one will place a “pod” on the playfield relative to the position of the bottom laser. The pods are the game’s stand-ins for Centipede’s mushrooms, but they’re not just barriers that redirect the ‘Pede. THESE mushrooms will quickly mature into bombs that drop downward. So when the screen fills up with pods, it can be a lot to keep track of, and you still have to watch the lasers too. While the left wall’s laser that places the pod can’t kill you (this changes in other versions), the bottom one’s screen-wide laser will. There’s SO MANY THINGS to keep track of, and for your first couple games, expect it to be overwhelming and maybe even a little demoralizing. At one point I dropped four lives on the first level after a good run, for f*ck’s sake Catherine how could you do that. But thanks largely to some damn impressive-for-the-era scoring balance that makes high score chasing genuinely thrilling, Gridrunner is incredibly fun. Now, everything I’ve just said applies to basically all the Gridrunner games with only minor changes (except the left laser not being lethal). Let’s get to the VIC version.

On every version of Gridrunner, I often had a bitch of a time trying to get the last segment on any stage. That happened more on the VIC-20 build than others thanks to the loose controls. I usually found myself using the right wall to finish off those pesky last segments. It worked so well that I put a note on my phone to try this with Centipede as well.

For the VIC-20, there’s thankfully no lag at all. Gridrunner’s controls are responsive and the graphics are distinct enough that you can tell everything apart. My one and only issue is that the controls are a little loosey-goosey in this build. While it’s difficult to line up with the pods in each build (no analog controls), this is easily the hardest of the Gridrunner games in that regard. Even that has a silver lining of adding both strategic layers and additional risk/reward factors, intentional or not, since avoiding the pods and the points they bring altogether is viable even late in the game. I used a hybrid strategy of not attempting any subtle movements and trying to align my shots by sweeping into place from further away, but if I didn’t get positioned correctly, I didn’t try again and just avoided that pod. Coming up with that was satisfying too and worked for my best scores. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take tighter controllers over this, but it’s not a totally bad thing. The VIC-20 also has the smallest playfield, but again, that might be a plus since it adds to the claustrophobic feeling. The weakest version of Gridrunner still was something I walked away from saying “surely this has to be the best VIC game ever, right?” Jeff would have a couple more of those, though.
Verdict: YES! – $4 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Andes Attack
aka Defenda

Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1982
Designed by Jeff Minter

Jeff is in good company, because a lot of people tried to get the feel of Defender on home platforms and didn’t quite get it. Also worth noting if this looks a step above other VIC-20 games, there’s a good reason: this utilized a RAM expansion. Most of the games Jeff made didn’t utilize this, as he mostly focused on games that could be bought by every VIC-20 owner and not the fraction of owners that had the expansion.

My longtime readers know that I cherish Defender. If they ever get around to releasing another Midway Arcade Treasures set (my #1 Gold Master Series wish list item), I’ll finally do a review of the coin-op. The fact that Jeff was skilled enough to create a functioning tribute to Defender on the VIC-20 that looks the part speaks volumes to his ability. Sometimes it even comes close to passing the smell test as well. In fact, it’s close enough that I’m guessing huge fans of the Williams arcade classic who owned VIC-20s in 1982 were tickled pink by Andes Attack’s existence. It DOES get a lot right, too. The “defending” part and the consequence of the aliens merging with the people (or, in this case llamas) are here. The mountainous terrain is here. The satisfying bullets that feel like powerful, destructive energy blasts are here. He even has the different enemy types, like the bombers (though they don’t behave the same as the coin-op). This is, frankly, damn impressive.

It’s worth noting that the instructions are missing pages. Digital Eclipse didn’t write their own. Also, there’s no hyperspace as far as I can tell.

Unfortunately, a stunning effort for the limitations and era were fated to age badly. The act of turning around has too big of a delay to it, and the collision detection is not great. I had plenty of instances of bullets seemingly going right through enemies. The worst part was things like starting a new wave or even a new game only to have a bullet or enemy that’s literally right in front of me kill me. As a +1 to this museum of one of the most important people in the history of the medium, I’m happy this is here. Hell, let me be clear: I’m happy ALL these games are here and wish all the missing games were here. I’d given them all a chance. But, is Andes Attack fun in 2025? Not at all, and that’s okay because I learned the word “cack.” I’m guessing, like me, Jeff would probably rather play the real Defender. I’ll whoop your ass at it, Yak. Yeah, no I won’t.
Verdict: NO!

Rox 64
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

This wasn’t due to lag. Nope. This was ALL me, baby!

Like with the Flex games, I’m grateful this set includes a good version of a game where my NO! verdict was decided solely on the basis of input lag. This is the same gameplay concept as Rox III, minus the input lag. It’s NOT the same game, however. In Rox 64, every game is played with a strict sixty-rock limit. In theory, you can play a perfect game of Rox 64 in the same way you can shoot a 300 in bowling. Ooh, that is an interesting idea to really up the addiction factor, and it works. At this point in my review process, I knew I was spending too much time with each game and I needed to speed things along. I told myself “get what you need and move on.” So much for that (in fact, the total playtime of this set ended up being over 160 hours, though it’s closer to 150 since I left the game on without doing anything a few times). I spent two hours with ROX 64 when, realistically, I knew the YES! was locked-in after thirty minutes. That’s despite some very eyebrow-raising warts. Like, sometimes a new game starts and you just spontaneously die.

This happened to me the first time in my second or third game, and I didn’t know what happened. Was I supposed to press buttons during this sequence? This is why scanning instruction manuals instead of assigning someone to type in new instructions is a bad idea. The next game, I just mashed every button during the landing and I survived, so I kept doing that each game afterward. But eventually I spontaneously died at the start again. Now I’m not sure if this is a bug or a practical joke by Jeff. Seriously, would you put it past him? At least it never happens in the middle of a live game. A bigger potential issue is that sometimes the asteroids enter the playfield on a trajectory where seemingly no angle can possibly intercept them at any point, so you either have to use one of your three bombs or, new to this game, you can abort at any time and cash-in for 5,000 points. I’m not a fan of unavoidable enemies in games like this. With that said, the abort idea is actually pretty smart and added a unique layer that turned Rox 64 into a competitive hit in my house. I didn’t expect any game in this collection to be one of those “everyone gathers around and takes turns” games, but Rox 64 was and everyone had fun. When they didn’t die right out of the starting gate, I mean.
Verdict: YES! – $2 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Gridrunner
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

Lovely game, even if your ship looks like the tip of the Jolly Green Giant’s favorite play thing. Can’t be unseen. You’re welcome.

The best of the trilogy of old school Gridrunners included in this package, this is the first Gridrunner where the left laser can kill you while it’s producing the pods. Besides that, the biggest change is that the playfield feels huge even if it’s only marginally bigger than on the VIC-20. The movement is also a lot less loose. It’s still tough to align shots, but hell, I suck at getting the last segment on Centipede and basically every Centipede sequel and/or knockoff that lacks power-ups. The last subtle change is that the overall speed is turned down a very small but noticeable notch. I think that’s to the game’s advantage, as none of Gridrunner’s intensity is loss. If anything, I think it allows you to pay closer attention, and this in a game where there’s so much to watch out for. It became apparent to me very quickly why Gridrunner is held up as one of the classic arcaders of the Commodore 64. It’s brutally difficult, but that fine-tuned scoring and pitch perfect enemy balance makes it a fair challenge, and a damn fine one. This might be my new favorite old school Centipede-like (spoiler: it won’t hold that title long). It was also yet another game where I told myself “get what you need” and ended up playing for hours trying (and failing) to break 100K. I never got bored for a second. Some reputations are justified.
Verdict: YES! – $4 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
And as a reminder, value is relative to other games in the set. For Gridrunner, it will matter.

Attack of the Mutant Camels
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

In the timeline feature, Jeff makes fun of his camels for not looking like camels but instead “two fat men in a pantomime mutant camel suit.” Jeez, we really are our own toughest critics, aren’t we? I look at the above screenshot and, like, to me that’s a pretty good camel for the limitations. Maybe it looks more like an alpaca. But a mutant alpaca. “Or a pregnant kangaroo!” says Sasha the Kid. Well that can’t be unseen either, can it?

Attack of the Mutant Camels: the game that did what Spaceballs did four years before Spaceballs even released: parody Star Wars. My spoilsport father said “Mad Magazine beat them both to it.” Of course they did. Still, of all the randomly weird things I’ve played, this is certainly one of the weirdest. I’d heard of Attack of the Mutant Camels, but I’d never played it or even seen a screenshot of it. When I saw WHAT it was, I was legitimately startled, and then I thought “why would anyone ever copy Empire Strikes Back?” For whatever reason, Jeff decided that the 1982 Parker Bros. game for the Atari 2600 (and later for Intellivision) had gameplay worthy of attempting to replicate and graphics worthy of satire because a magazine called Computer & Video Games famously described the AT-ATs as looking like camels.

Do they though?

(Empire Strikes Back for the Atari 2600) In this picture, the AT-AT really has to go pee.

(squints and tilts head) I guess they KIND of look like camels, except, no, not really at all. They’re too leggy. No, those look like 2600 versions of AT-ATs to me, and Jeff’s camels look like camels. The funny thing is, Jeff didn’t see the camel connection either, but he still turned a throwaway joke in a famous gaming magazine into one of his most famous games. One that I was fated not to enjoy because, frankly, I thought the Empire Strikes Back 2600 game was REALLY boring (I reviewed it in Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include Part Two). This isn’t a clone, though. Actually, a lot of features are missing. As far as I can tell, there’s no Force bonus if you stay alive long enough. You can’t land to repair your ship and get hit points back. The camels have no specific weak spot for quick take-downs like they do in the Atari game. On the other hand, the Camels’ shots are easier to get a feel for but still tricky enough to keep you honest. Unless you just scroll in a way where the camel’s ass is showing but not its head, like so:

As long as the camel’s head isn’t on screen, they’ll never fire at you. It’s not an entirely safe method since you have to keep a screen-wide distance, which slows your rate of fire, which allows the camels to advance much further towards the base, which applies to the whole herd and basically increases the odds that you will fail. But it does work if you’re low and life and.. oh hey, is that a risk/reward factor? Well I’ll be damned, it is! And I like the scoring system of each camel doubling in value until the end of the level, a combo system which is reset if you die. There’s also a wave of missiles between each stage that you have to dodge (no shooting allowed) instead of just jumping straight to another wave of camels. So it’s not a total wash and if I had to choose between this or Empire Strikes Back, I’d take Mutant Camels for the more nuanced scoring system which should give it more replay value. But, this is still a pretty boring gameplay concept. And they do actually look more like pregnant kangaroos. Darn it Sasha, I hate you.
Verdict: NO!

Headbanger’s Heaven
Platform: Sinclair ZX Spectrum
Year: 1983
Designed by Whatshisface. You know, the bearded guy.

I could totally see myself playing this as a time-waster game with five minutes to kill. I mean, if it worked.

Headbanger’s Heaven is an LCD-like cross-the-road game that actually made me get so angry that I had to stop and count to ten. The object is to get from the left of the screen to the right, grab the money, and bring it back to the left side for 500 points. While this happens, hammers rain down from the ceiling, and if you take a direct blow to the head (not shoulders or arm, but head) while NOT MOVING, you score points and the pain meter fills by one. You can fill the pain meter all the way to nine, but you will die on the tenth one, or if you’re moving at all when the hammer registers. If you take a red hammer to the head, your pain meter is reset. This could have been AWESOME. You know, if your movement registered every single time you pressed the move button, and also if you were guaranteed to move when you pressed that button without delay. I mean, read the description I just wrote. Sounds exactly like a game that 100% no questions asked REQUIRES precision movement, right? Look how full the screen gets!

I should note that my spiritual big brother Dave said that this would have sucked even with perfect controls because the difficulty scaling is ridiculous. See all the hammers above? That’s after just three passes. “What do you mean I would have said it sucked, Cathy? It DID suck! I was THERE! You get to a point not far in where you absolutely can’t move for hammers. It sucked to play, but it was a game meant purely as a joke. I mean it’s pure early Jeff that way and nobody else was doing it, and that joke lands better as a curio in a compilation. Not on a tape you paid six quid for in 1983 money though.”

But, like so many other games in Llamasoft, and I know I’m sounding like a broken record here, the movement can have lagginess, or just as often, pressing the move button doesn’t work on the first time. Or the second. Or the third. Yeah, one time I tapped “LEFT” three times and nothing happened and I died. Again, look how full that screen is. This is not a game where you always want to hold a button down. You’re going to be inching your way across the screen, and that means you need those button presses to work every time. Your window to move forward might only be the time you can press the button once. If you press it and nothing happens and you die, that’s not fun. And I’m getting so sick of this sh*t at this point. I don’t care if the ZX Spectrum does this with most games. I’m not really playing this on a Spectrum, am I? We live in an era where a random guy who isn’t even a professional game designer took the NES disaster Super Pitfall and turned it into a borderline masterpiece. You mean to tell me that’s possible but Digital Eclipse, with their hundreds of collective years of experience, can’t take a forty year old game and make it so when you press a button, something happens every time? THAT’S a bridge too far? Wishful thinking? Impossible? That? Really?
Verdict: NO!

Gridrunner
Platform: Atari 8-Bit
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

One of those “you won’t get the gameplay from seeing a screenshot of it” games. Jeff made a lot of those, actually.

Hey, I ain’t going to complain about more Gridrunner, though this was my least favorite of the trilogy. Easily. Actually, this is the rare comparison situation I’ve done where my final preference came down to the visual differences. Atari Gridrunner’s gameplay is closer to the C64 build than the VIC-20 game, with only negligible timing differences. It was maybe a little easier to use the walls to pick off the last segments in the Atari 8-Bit build. Maybe. On the other hand, the graphics of the VIC-20 and Commodore 64 versions of Gridrunner POP. Ain’t no popping in the Atari 8-Bit build. The blue sprites don’t stand out enough. It’s not an entirely superficial problem, either. Gridrunner is a game where the challenge comes largely from giving a player so many different things to keep track of that it becomes overwhelming. This is difficult enough when the graphics stand out. Here, the blue enemy sprites blend a little too well. This makes the pods especially problematic, as their sprites lack the details that give you an instinctive feel of when they’re about to ripen and drop. It’s STILL Gridrunner and Gridrunner is awesome, but there’s two better builds to play in this set. The Atari 8-Bit build is really just a bonus curio.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Laser Zone
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

I could never rub my head and pat my belly (or is it supposed to be the other way around?) at the same time so I was NEVER going to be good at this game. But I did like it a lot.

When it comes to white-knuckle arcaders, Jeff Minter came up with some great designs. Laser Zone is a gallery shooter played from two simultaneous angles. LEFT and RIGHT controls the bottom turret while UP and DOWN controls another along the right wall, and a life is lost if EITHER turret dies. There’s a lot more to it than that, as you can actually shoot diagonally as well, though there’s a steep learning curve to it. Oh, and friendly fire is turned on and I had an uncanny knack for shooting the other turret. The turrets will come out the other side if you travel as far as you can, which can be used for defense if enemies reach the walls. You also get bombs, with one added to your stockpile for each wave. The most complicated aspect of VIC-20 Laser Zone, and my biggest knock on the game, is WHEN you can shoot. See the little notches under the walls? Those actually matter. I’ll just post the instruction manual screenshot to explain it.

Hey, this is one of the rare instruction books that was actually kinda helpful. No, I’m not giving back the $0.25 fine for this game. Any value semi-decent instruction booklets like this made up was lost by the poor instructions for games like Mama Llama or Sheep in Space, which deserve bigger fines than the $0.25 I pinged them for. That’s why I lazily averaged it out.

Since this shooting limitation isn’t in the Commodore 64 build, I assume this is some sort of bug that became a feature. Regardless of whether that’s true or not, I *never* felt comfortable with lining up my shots the correct “armed” way. Maybe that’s in-part because the movement isn’t quite accurate enough. I wish I could play this with Tempest-like dial controls (seriously, that’d be so sweet). It’s not a deal breaker as I really did enjoy Laser Zone. It’s one of those games that can turn on a dime. I had many instances where I went from being in complete control of the playfield to letting one enemy through my defense and suddenly I was overwhelmed while playing defense and trying to find a diagonal angle to pick off the enemies so I didn’t have to use a bomb. I’ll talk more about Laser Zone in the C64 review but for now, this VIC-20 port is solid and even has an advantage over the C64 version: the playfield feels bigger. I certainly shot my own turrets far less in this version, and it wasn’t even close. I’d still give the edge to the C64 build. Can I just say that I admire that Jeff kept supporting a weaker platform even after the Commodore 64 came out. That’s a “for the love of the game” designer right there.
Verdict: YES! – $2 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Matrix: Gridrunner 2
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

Centipedes AND camels? I mean, if they were centipedes made of camels, the nightmares that would cause would be so collectively traumatizing we might have to just cancel civilization. So, you know, thanks for not doing that, Jeff. Good looking out.

The original Gridrunner might be the lure of The Jeff Minter Story for fans of classic computer games, but Matrix is so clearly the stronger game and one of the absolute best arcaders in PC gaming history. The most important change, at least in my opinion, doesn’t involve a new play mechanic or enemy. It’s the limit of how high you can move up the playfield. I’m going to include screenshots for both versions of each game. For the original game, you’re capped at moving this high (VIC-20 on Left, C64 on Right):

For the sequel, the invisible barrier is now almost near the top of the screen:

This seemingly small change yields massive gameplay ramifications. The dirty little secret of arcade shooters like this is that, as counterintuitive as it seems, the shooting isn’t actually the fun part. It’s the defensive side of the equation that generates most of the excitement. Without the close calls and the bobbing and weaving through enemies and obstacles, all you have left is accuracy of your own shots to generate the fun. That means the entertainment value is totally dependent on how well YOU play the game. But a game with a strong-but-fair defensive design is fun at all skill levels, regardless of how good a player you are. As long as the game keeps the pressure of avoidance going in a fair and logical way, the excitement never lets up. If you don’t believe me, play Gridrunner 1 and 2 back-to-back. In the first game, your defensive space is limited to the lower third of the playfield. It’s still well done, but it limits your flexibility and discourages improvisation. In many situations, your defensive choices are made for you. But with double the space, not only do you have more room to avoid enemies, but you have more options to blend avoiding enemies while attacking others. Matrix has essentially limitless strategic options, and I love it for that because I put the highest stock in games like this allowing players to come up with their own strategies.

This is a very interesting idea. Some of the levels are stampedes of camels. The camels can’t hurt you, but in these levels, you bleed points, earning back only 106 points per camel while your score ticks away. In other stages, the camels remain harmless but can get in the way of the centipedes or pods.

The playfield movement alone would have been enough for me, but I’m playing a compilation of forty games in 2025. I admit that it would make for a lousy sequel in 1983. It’s not exactly something that looks great in an advertisement. So Jeff did what Jeff always does: add camels (see the above caption). He also added shot reflectors and an indestructible little guy at the top of the screen who actually costs you points if you shoot him. I figured “well that must be the guy you’re rescuing” at first. Except, no. He’ll stop and wave if you cross paths with him, and if the bottom turret is under you, it’ll fire. It’s yet another thing you have to keep an eye on, but it totally works!

I was actually kind of nervous going into Matrix. Unlike the original Gridrunner, I’d never heard of it. I figured there had to be a reason for that, but playing it, I couldn’t find one. Gridrunner 2 is so good that it kind of broke my heart that it has no clout in modern gaming. How absurd! It’d be like if Super Mario Bros. 3 was totally engulfed by the original game to the point that hardly anyone talks about it. Surely THIS has to be the best VIC-20 action game, right? And it certainly has a place in a wide assortment of “most underrated” discussions, including “most underrated game EVER made.” It controls fantastic. The enemies sprites are clear and distinct, which I appreciate a LOT more now that I’ve played the 8-Bit Atari version of Gridrunner. I can’t think of anything really to complain about except maybe I think the camels should be worth slightly more points in order to incentivize not letting them escape, which could in theory dial up some minor risk/reward factors. Oh who am I kidding? If there’s such a thing as a perfect action game, this is it. At least on the VIC-20. Indeed, I believe this build is far superior as an OVERALL gaming experience than the Commodore 64 version. Wow, VIC-20 won a head-to-head? Huh. I didn’t see that coming (spoiler: it won’t be the last time).
Verdict: YES! $6 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Matrix: Gridrunner 2
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

If you can get the hang of using the reflectors, I think sideways-traveling shots are better for picking off the last segments of the pedes than the normal vertical shots.

Unlike the original Gridrunner, an argument can be made that the VIC-20 version of Matrix bests the graphically superior Commodore 64 version in every other way that matters except “potential challenge.” I’m prepared to make that argument: the Commodore 64 version is too damn intense. Matrix 64 is much faster in every way, including your own controls. Precision aiming is slightly harder, but that “slightly” is amplified when you consider how fast the enemies can move AND attack. Both versions have centipedes that drop missiles like the pods, but that attack on C64 comes especially quickly. Even the little man at the top that triggers the bottom cannon follows you more closely. This all makes the C64 version of Matrix: Gridrunner 2 the unofficial “hard mode” of what is an already very difficult game. Please don’t mistake that as a deal breaker. Matrix on C64 is also one of the best games in this set. It just doesn’t, in my opinion, offer the balanced challenge that the VIC-20 version did. It makes me happy for those players that didn’t upgrade to the C64. They might not have had the horsepower, but they had the best version of one of the best action games ever on a Commodore platform.
Verdict: YES! – $4 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Laser Zone
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

Some games are hard to appreciate from screenshots, so you’ll have to take my word that this is fantastic action right here.

The C64 build of Laser Zone has larger, more detailed graphics, but at a cost: the playfield feels smaller. A lot smaller, actually, and certainly more claustrophobic. This also led to me shooting my own turrets a lot more than I did on the VIC-20 build. There’s a HUGE learning curve to the movement, especially as it relates to diagonal shooting. For my first half-hour or so of gameplay, I died just as much or more from shooting myself than I did from enemies, and that’s no exaggeration. To make up for all of this, the “you can’t shoot unless lined-up with the notches correctly” mechanic was dropped entirely. A wise decision, indeed, because the end result is one of my favorite games in this set. Laser Zone 64 is a seriously addictive shooter. It’s fast-paced, white knuckle, but it also has a lot of risk/reward factors related to the bombs and, yes, the diagonal shooting.

If you did this same game without giving players an additional bomb every time they finish a wave, nah, this wouldn’t have been anywhere near as good. I think this is Jeff’s SMARTEST action game so far, and maybe in this entire set. This for a game with absolutely no modern clout. Why isn’t Laser Zone a bigger deal? It’s wonderful!

I do have two complaints. The first is that you have to shoot enemies dead-solid in the center. Otherwise, bullets pass through them. I’d prefer sprite-based collision. Second is a weird one: the scaling seems kind of off, but not in the way you would expect. Around the eighth wave, it felt like things got easier for a couple waves, and the waves felt shorter before the difficulty ramped up again. It was weird. At first, I figured I just had a lucky run, but it happened again when I nearly broke my high score. “The calm before the storm, perhaps?” my father suggested. Maybe, but it still felt jarring. That’s a REALLY minor complaint though, because I really loved Laser Zone. It’s so good that it made me feel bad that the world never got a Jeff Minter coin-op during this era. Imagine what he could have done in arcades in 1983. Final thought on Laser Zone: Gridrunner is fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but Laser Zone is, at the bare minimum, just as good. Yet, I’d never heard of it before this set. It doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page for f*ck’s sake. Laser Zone being relegated to historic footnote is one of the biggest miscarriages of justice I’ve experienced as a critic. This is why comprehensive sets like the kind Digital Eclipse does are so important.
Verdict: YES! – $4 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Hover Bovver
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Something

There’s a decent game somewhere in here, but this ain’t it.

The idea of Hover Bovver is that you’ve borrowed (“borrowed”) a neighbor’s lawnmower, but he wants it back, so you have to cut all the grass without him catching you. You also can’t touch the dog, which, yeah, that’d make quite the mess and, assuming it survives, it’d probably walk funny afterwards and swear vengeance. “Who’s the no good son of a bitch that ran over my paw?” But I digress. The twist to the game is the neighbor can walk through the flowers, but if YOU mow a flower, an angry gardener will come at you. He’s got essentially the same attack pattern as the neighbor, which is to say he just inelegantly heat seeks you. So does the dog when he grows tired of your noisy lawnmower, though the dog can’t go through the flowers. Also, technically the dog works for you, and you can sic ’em on the neighbor up to a certain point. But eventually the dog will become annoyed by the lawnmower and attack it, which means running it over.

It’s kind of insane how many different complications are added. Even the lawnmower itself can overheat and freeze you if you mow too much grass in a row without taking a break. This game feels like a victim of the classic case of a developer who forgets that, during development, they’re the best player in the world at their own game so they keep upping the difficulty to challenge themselves forgetting that everyone else didn’t build the game and thus know how to beat it. Even the best designers do it.

You don’t die if you run over the dog, which wanders around randomly until you call for an attack or run out of “dog tolerance” points. But it was the dog that led to most of my deaths because you’re left stun-locked for quite a long time if you touch it. It’s too stiff of a penalty for a game with such inelegant enemy attack patterns. Sometimes I recovered from the penalty only to immediately hit the dog again because it’s right f*cking there. Although the neighbor can become trapped behind a wall, so can the dog that you might need to fend him off. Later levels have fewer walls and, elaborate as they might be, they don’t feel optimized for exciting gameplay. I think it would only take a few minor tweaks to make Hover Bovver a decent game. Ditch the mower overheating mechanic and the ability to speed-up as you mow, and shorten the penalty for hitting the dog. Maybe. Or maybe I’m wrong. Hell, I dunno. I just play these things, but I know that I really couldn’t wait to be done with Hover Bovver. I also know it’s one of his most popular games but I found it to be really boring. I would’ve liked to have seen this remade with a bigger playfield and smarter enemy/dog behavior, but there’s only one Digital Eclipse “remake” in this set.
Verdict: NO!

Metagalactic Llamas: Battle at the Edge of Time
aka Meta-Llamas
Platform: Commodore VIC-20
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

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Jeff calls this “possibly the most stupidly named game of all-time.” I mean, I’ve played through like a dozen Legend of Zelda games and Zelda Fitzgerald hasn’t shown up a single time, but sure, it’s Meta-Llamas, Jeff. 🙄 Okay, so this is sort of meant to be another gag game as the premise sounds like it’s going to be some kind of epic, but it’s really just a very simple arcade shooter. But the joke’s on Jeff…… I think but it’s hard to tell with him…… because Meta-Llamas is actually a solid arcader. It’s neat, as it’s a simple shooter with the twist being that shots are always diagonal and you have to ricochet them to find the angle to zap the spiders. To further aid you in this, you can raise and lower the ceiling. It also has an intelligent scoring system with historically good risk/reward balance. THIS is a joke game? It’s really good! Maybe the best game I’ve ever assigned only $1 in value to. I should also note that the shooting angle on VIC feels completely different from the C64 game. In a shooter based on banking your shots, that’s a big deal because it does authentically make both versions of Meta-Llama worth a look.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Revenge of the Mutant Camels
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by a fever dream, I’m guessing.

These enemies are called “Aggressive Australian Alpinists.” Jeff, what the HELL happened to you while skiing that inspired THIS?

Revenge of the Mutant Camels is a satire of a satire, and also a pseudo-sequel to Attack of the Mutant Camels. Spoiler: there’s a sequel to this coming up. Admittedly, I’m afraid of booting that game up. I’m terrified that it could unleash the dreaded satire-sequel-satire-pseudo-sequel-satire-satire singularly and destroy the entire universe, leaving nobody alive to hear the Big Rim Shot that expands out to form a new satire-based universe shaped like a pie-to-the-face where all physics and matter is governed by Mel Brooks. What I’m saying is, yes, Jeff Minter might possibly kill us all. (nods) In this game, YOU control the camels and have to survive waves of increasingly wacky enemies, including Pac-Man and the Ghost Monsters and even clones of Jeff Minter himself. SEE! HE’S TRYING TO KILL US ALL! Oh wait, the camel in this is probably evil. It’s one of those “play as the villain” games, isn’t it?

And I didn’t even get an energizer.

In all seriousness, this is one of Jeff’s more famous games, but I didn’t like it at all. Going back to what I said about Gridrunner 2 and how action games are dependent on a strong defensive game, Revenge of the Mutant Camels could be exhibit A of that argument. I really like side-scrolling shmups in case you haven’t noticed, and the idea of one where you run around the ground and have to jump to avoid things instead of flying all over the screen? It’s been done well before, but you need good physics and nimble movement. This has neither. The camel handles slowly and awkwardly. I get the sense that you’re not expected to avoid all damage and maybe barely hold on for dear life before reaching the end of a wave, where you get SOME life back. While I like that there’s tons of enemy sprites with different attack patterns, frankly I didn’t think the shooting felt great either. This was probably my least favorite C64 game in the set.
Verdict: NO!

Hellgate
Platform: VIC-20
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter in collaboration with Satan himself.

You, sir, are a filthy, stink’n liar! You sleep on a bed of lies! And memory foam! But memory foam that’s also made of lies!

I sincerely admire that Jeff experimented heavily with his games. A lot of the focus goes on the silly llamas or camels, but the truth is, he did do some bold experiments. Some worked better than others and Hellgate is with “the others” in that regard. The idea is you control four turrets at once that have to shoot at enemies that spawn in the center of the screen. The turrets are controlled in pairs. You move the side cannons with UP and DOWN while the top and bottom turrets are moved with LEFT and RIGHT. You can’t sit still or you’ll overheat. Since this is a lot to handle, the game offers one kindness: bombs are fired automatically when an enemy touches you. Okay, now kill all baddies and enjoy the pounding headache that comes with keeping track of all these things.

For what it’s worth, this will EVENTUALLY make sense, but it takes practice. Lots and lots of practice.

Hellgate on the VIC-20 might actually be the single most intense arcader I’ve ever played. At first, I was certain this would get a NO! I’m happy I stuck it out because I slowly started to improve to the point that rounds were enjoyable. Oh, never to the point I was “good.” Even my best rounds never passed the 80K mark. I think some players might legitimately be physically incapable of playing this well. The problem isn’t just the four turrets but the fact that one side moves the opposite direction of the other, IE moving the left turret up also moves the right turret down. It’s overwhelming. I do think Hellgate is a worthy experience for anyone who enjoys arcade-style action games. I make no guarantees you’ll actually have fun, but as a test of the absolute limits of your hand-eye coordination? If you’re ready to really find out, this might be the game for you.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Hellgate
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter

One single speed adjustment sucked all the fun out of the C64 build.

Hellgate 64 is yet another Commodore 64 upgrade that seems to provide a kinder, gentler experience over its VIC-20 counterpart. I mean relatively speaking, of course. This is still a MADDENING game that requires a full rewiring of your gray matter if you hope to fully control all four turrets. But the movement is a little more accurate on C64 while the pace of the enemies being released is a little slower, allowing for quicker adjustments and, in theory, more time to set your shots. Okay, so it should be the better version, right? Not so fast, because you sure seem to overheat a LOT more quickly on the C64. Now in theory you can prevent this by staying in constant motion, because you don’t gain heat if you keep moving. In practice, all that does is leave you open for enemies. Most of my deaths on the VIC were via running out of bombs and dying to the enemies. The overwhelming majority of my deaths on the C64 were due to overheating. This really was one thing too many to keep track of. As if having to move four things to control at once (two of which have the controls inverted, mind you) while having enemies come at you from all sides wasn’t tough enough. I learned to live with it on the VIC-20, but here it proved to be ruinous for any and all entertainment value.
Verdict: NO!

Sheep in Space
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter

See, when I took LSD, the walls melted. No flying camels.

Sheep in Space is a more complicated version of Defender. So complicated that I was worried I would never have that “ah, I get it” moment. It took a while (seriously about an hour of playing and dying) before I “got it” because I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bomb the power generators or guard them. It’s guard them. Again, modern instructions would have been nice. Sheep in Space has the same basic concept as Defender: kill all the enemies in a large battlefield by using radar to hunt them down. Instead of kidnapping people, enemies take power stations to charge what’s essentially a bomb that will blow up the planet. So far, so Defender, but the complications are about to start. The playfield, which is much, much larger than Defender’s, is divided into different speed zones. If you’re in the center of the screen, your sheep does an impression of a bat out of hell. But, the further away you are from the center, the slower you travel due to the planetary gravity. It’s SUCH a neat idea. Hell, even your shots become drawn to the floor and ceiling due to gravity.

I never survived the penalty for not killing all the enemies before they blew up the planet. It’s a punishment for a reason.

It sounds great, and it can be! I’m giving it a YES! along with one of the highest values in this set. I really had fun. But there’s one mechanic in this that I wish I had a time machine so I could go back in time and knock Jeff over the head with a shovel before he added it to the game. While you do all the combat, your sheep becomes progressively more hungry and requires you to stop and land to feed it. There’s designated grasslands on both the floor and ceiling that the sheep will eat at what could generously be called a “leisurely pace.” It takes FOREVER to recharge its hunger status and it just sucks the f*cking excitement out of what is otherwise one of the best twists on Defender I’ve seen.

You can’t defend yourself while you’re eating, either. Put a little pep in your step, buddy! Don’t savor it!

The good news is, in counter to the ridiculously slow feeding stuff, there’s some additional mechanics to help increase the tempo of the action. At first, I thought the planets were too damn big. Make no mistake, they’re HUGE, especially compared to Defender. But Jeff built in not one, not two, but THREE hyperspace options that are different from any other game in this genre. In games like Asteroids or Defender, hyperspace usually places you in a totally random spot that could be lethal. You only use hyperspace out of desperation when you’re out of options. Here, the hyperspace is designed specifically to speed-up gameplay by warping you to a random enemy, with two additional styles of hyperspace that specify targets on the ceiling or floor. It works without feeling like too much of a shortcut since you still often have to give chase to the baddies.

Screenshots don’t really do this justice. It’s a lot of fun.

The best way I can describe Sheep in Space is “what if most Defender encounters felt like drag races?” The different speeds of the screen WORK and there’s few things as satisfying as running down an enemy in the center of the screen, then doing a u-turn and shooting it. Or even colliding with it, since unlike Defender, you can absorb damage and get so many hits before you die. Most of my deaths were a result of the planet blowing up and being unable to survive the manic wave of enemies that you get as punishment for allowing it to happen. So don’t mistake Sheep in Space as a copy of Defender. It’s a love letter to it. It’s one of the reasons I’m not deleting Llamasoft from my Switch after I finish this. I think it’ll be Sheep in Space that I come back to when I have a Defender itch and want something different to scratch it. It’s a lot of fun. I just wish the sheep ate quicker.
Verdict: YES! – $5 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Attack of the Mutant Camels
Platform: Atari 8-Bit
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter

This camel is second only to Joe Camel in the annals of evil camels.

One of the best games in the set is immediately followed by possibly the worst game in the set, at least among the games where the controller actually listens to you. Although this is structured like the previous Attack of the Mutant Camels and remains a satire of the Atari 2600’s Empire Strikes Back game, this plays far, far worse than either of those games. Unlike the Commodore 64 game, you can’t disable colliding with the camels. The playfield is more compact and the controls are VERY touchy. This is supposed to be much more inertia-based than the original Attack of the Mutant Camels build and closer to how the Star Wars game played. Except impacting a camel sends you flying like both the camel and the ship are made of flubber. Same with the bullets. EVERYTHING sends you flying quickly backwards with extreme violence. Because of how little room you have to dodge anything combined with the insane knock-back, an already mediocre-at-best gameplay concept is rendered completely unplayable. Maybe Jeff just hated Atari’s home computer line. (Cathy from the Future: if that’s the case, he had a funny way of showing it.)
Verdict: NO!

Metagalactic Llamas: Battle at the Edge of Time
aka Meta-Llamas
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1983
Designed by Jeff Minter

Two levels into my second game and I found a “sweet spot” to stand that allows for easy cheesing of Meta Llama’s first eight or so stages. Call this the conservative strategy designed to preserve lives (no extra lives in this game) for later levels. Just position your Llama above the O and U in “BONUS” then lower the ceiling a little bit and hold the fire button down. You won’t die for the first few levels and you’ll not completely be hosed on points, though you certainly won’t earn what you CAN earn. Once you can no longer stand still, don’t sweat it. You’ll only have to move a little bit for the next few levels after that. I didn’t have to be more careful until a dozen or so levels in. In literally only my second game, I put up a score of 149,467 and made it all the way to level 18. In my third game, I got to level 19 and 167,084. Each of Jeff’s instruction books have a target score for “good players” and for Meta-Llamas, it’s only 100K. In my sixth game, I broke for 211,796. Good for me, but six games to DOUBLE the stated target score? Yikes.

(spikes football, moonwalk in end zone) I’m going to Disneyland!

Now, here’s the good news: like the VIC game, Meta has a very well-crafted scoring system that discourages what the above video showed. If you shoot the spider directly off its web, it’s only 100 points. The web scores between 700 and 200 points, depending on how quickly you shoot it, and landed spiders score 600 points. So each enemy, all-in, is worth potentially 1,300 points. This is a fantastic risk/reward design because, once those spiders land, it’s hard to find a good angle for them. Close range ones are especially tough. I often finished levels doing a little dance of wiggling from the left to right sides of the screen using the screen-wrap. Once I understood that…….. I died more quickly. Never did end up topping that 200K game. Oh well. Like the VIC game, this is fun in small doses. Oddly enough, if I had to pick one or the other, I think I’d take the VIC version. Thankfully, I don’t have to make such a choice.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Ancipital
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1984
Designed by Yak the Hairy

“Not a breadhead.” (Googles “breadhead”) You know what? I believe you, Jeff.

It’s bonkers how many games in this collection had “all-timer” potential that’s squandered for no good reason. Ancipital is in the same boat as Sheep in Space in that it’s got so much going on that it’s overwhelming at first, but it eventually reveals itself as one of the most unique games in the set. The idea is that you’re in a gigantic maze with one hundred rooms. In each room you have to manipulate enemies in a way that transforms the walls into pathways to the next room. The actual action is a frantic shooting/platforming hybrid where you have to swap gravity on the fly. You can walk on all four walls and I loves me some anti-gravity games. However, Ancipital has a very steep learning curve to its gravity gameplay. You have to swap direction mid-air, and the speed of movement is too damn quick. Plus you can NEVER touch a wall with anything but your feet. This means you have to practically avoid the corners altogether. It’s an instakill otherwise. It’s really touchy too, so I admit this was the game I cheated with the most. Even cheating, I couldn’t survive long enough to beat the game (maxed out at like 65% of the maze) because the enemies pull some damn dirty pool.

The three yellow walls are pathways to the next room. BUT, you can’t actually use them until the timer for the room (represented by the T in the status bar) runs out. A lot of games in this collection have that “minimum indie badness” to them, but this crosses the line. This feels like a game with contempt for players.

By far the biggest problem with Ancipital is there’s often no elegance at all to the enemy attacks and no means to defend yourself. Even spamming attacks doesn’t work because the enemies will still hit you. Around the time you have knocked-out about a third of the maze, the enemies become far too aggressive. Too many rooms have the enemies either heat-seek you in a way that you could never hope to avoid, move too quickly to reasonably dodge, are unaffected by your weapon, outright life-slap you when you spawn in a room, or some combination of those. While the game offers life refills when you open up a wall, it doesn’t really matter because a game that’s focused on combat has boring combat. Fighting enemies that behave the way these ones do isn’t fun. Again, defense is where the excitement is, and this game feels like defense takes a back seat to trollish design. Consequently, what should be an engaging, addictive concept for a game that appeals directly to my escape room fandom actually isn’t fun at all. It gives me no pleasure to say this, but I really thought the action in this was too frustrating to be enjoyable.

This was my best non-cheating run. I got 40% of the maze and two of the hidden goats. I wanted to at least finish the maze, cheating or otherwise, but then I saw in the instruction book that even Jeff only finished 86% of his own f*cking game. That didn’t clue you in to maybe dial back the cheap shots, Jeff?

You can’t just have enemies rain down on the player like Ancipital does constantly. The nail in the coffin was the room timers are too long and tick away too slowly. What should be a fast-paced action game grinds to a slog when you have to just avoid enemies that resist being avoided in underhanded ways while the clock its ass off at you. Removing the clock alone would have probably turned Ancipital into a contender for best game in this set. With a slow clock and enemies THIS punishing? I didn’t think it was fun at all. The shame is, the basic navigation concept had me sit up in my seat. Hidden somewhere within the maze are five magical goats and camels that act as keys that unlock solid walls. This is one of those “you’re expected to make your own map” games and I intended to play along until I realized that the action was not getting better. I’d love to play a remake of this that has more reasonable difficulty. Mind you, I played this on easy. There’s not only a good game in here but possibly Jeff’s best game. No other NO! in this set hurt more than this one.
Verdict: NO!

Hover Bovver
Platform: Atari 8-Bit
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter

Three times in a row. The dog froze me three times in a f*cking row right here. All dogs BETTER not go to heaven.

Hover Bovver on the Atari 8-Bit is a slight improvement over the C64 build. It’s a little easier to scratch-out distance between you and the neighbor and the controls are slightly but perceptively better. It still suffers from all the same problems of inelegant enemy design and too stiff a penalty for touching the dog. In this version, the dog tolerance seems to run out faster, too, and when that runs out, the dog beelines for you. Actually, the best thing I can say about the 8-Bit build is that it made it more clear the “dog tolerance” mechanic is the problem. The neighbor and a randomly moving dog is tricky enough to avoid without the dog turning on you having an insanely long stun lock to worry about. I think a better way to have balanced the challenge was to just shrink the amount of attack time you get with the dog. Either way, I didn’t like either version at all.
Verdict: NO!

Psychedelia
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1984
Designed by Jeff Minter

Look! I made a jackalope!

I didn’t see this one coming. Psychedelia is NOT a video game. It’s the first of two “light synthesizer” programs in Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story. You can use a variety of tools and preset shapes to create a pattern of colored lights. These days, this would be like a mini-game in an art-based game. Like I could totally see something like this being in a modern version of Mario Paint. It’s easy to use, too. Keyboard functions were mapped to a menu using the trigger buttons. It’s very intuitive, which I didn’t expect. I messed around with it for a couple minutes and, while grabbing screenshots, I got the above picture and was satisfied enough. You can see the jackalope too, right? See, it’s got a bunny face and antlers. “It looks more like a devil version of a beaver or some kind of rodent to me” said Sasha the Kid, who I’m THIS CLOSE to renaming “Sasha the Killjoy.” Fine, it’s a beaver with devil horns. Whatever. What I didn’t expect was, when I showed Psychedelia to my family, everyone wanted a turn.

Look! I made a Galaxian! Or maybe Galaga!

From 10 year old Sasha the Kid (“you know I’m not 10 yet, right?” I’m rounding up. I totally know your birthday. Nod. Just don’t quiz me on it!) to my godfather, AJ. He’s pushing 80 years old and he’s not a “gamer” but he took a turn, and everyone in all ages in between. Everyone took a turn, and everyone loved it. It reminded me of the Rotoscope Theater feature from Making of Karateka. Less a game than a digital toy. I watched as the controller got passed around and everyone fiddled with it for a minute or two, giggling and enjoying it. It’s not going to be like Hidden in Plain Sight or Chompy Chomp Chomp, IE games we bust out during the holidays. But for fifteen-to-twenty minutes, my family enjoyed making pretty lights dance on our TV, laughing and smiling the entire time and I watched, realizing “I’ll look back on this moment someday and smile, and I think the kids will too.” You know what? Dammit, that counts for something in my book.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
I would have added more but Colourspace offers the same concept with more options.

The next game was so critically lambasted that there’s a video about the negative response to it in the feature. Additionally, the negative review that sparked the controversy is included in the documentary timeline in its entirety. Wow. You know what? Props to Jeff and Digital Eclipse for keeping it real. Okay, let’s do this! My body is ready!

Mama Llama
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1985
Designed by Jeff Minter

This looks kind of complicated. That’s okay, though. I’ll just open up the trusty instruction book that no doubt clearly explains what this is and how to use it, especially since nothing like this has been in any other game. I mean, can you imagine if it didn’t explain how to play this with visual aides? You know, since gaming is an all-visual medium? But nobody could possibly be reckless enough to make a game like this without giving clear, unambiguous instructions on how to play it, and especially nobody could possibly take it personally when people don’t “get it” and think the game is, at best, frustrating and boring and, at worst, convoluted and outright pretentious as all f*ck. (nods) Okay, I’m opening the instructions now and………

My body wasn’t ready. I spent the better part of a day trying to make sense of Mama Llama. I read the instruction book (as a reminder, the original books are the ONLY instructions offered in this collection) but it didn’t have a single gameplay visual aid. It’s almost beyond belief considering Mama Llama one of the most convoluted games I’ve ever seen. It’s totally inexcusable and grounds for a NO! by itself. Imagine any instruction book for something that’s not a video game. Let’s say it was a ham radio kit with all the parts to build the radio, a fairly complicated piece of machinery. Only instead of telling you what each of the components in the kit is, the instructions just described all the different parts. There’s no diagrams of what goes where using which screw or fastener and the kit just expects users to somehow know based on words with no context. Anyone would be f*cking furious about that. It’s frustrating that Jeff took negative reviews so personally once upon a time given how overly complicated the game is versus the amount of proper instruction players were given. Taking the ham radio thought experiment further, it would be like the person who made the prototype of the ham radio saying “how come YOU can’t build the thing? *I* know how to build it!” Well no sh*t you do! You made it! But you didn’t do a whole lot for everyone else playing it!

After all that, it’s like………. A point and click shooter kinda? But also kind of an avoider? And it’s played with a cursor, but it doesn’t use a mouse?

If figuring out how to play Mama Llama was fun or rewarding by itself, I wouldn’t complain. Nor would I complain if the gameplay itself or the objective were intuitive. It’s not at all. I THOUGHT I had figured it out, but then I ultimately needed to find a YouTube video that clarified the gameplay. I was also relieved to see a couple comments in that clip of people saying they’d tried for years to make sense of the game and couldn’t until they found that clip. Even after I realized that you’re going through waves with different gravity and objectives and using a cursor to kill enemies while trying to keep your baby llamas alive, I didn’t think it was worth the effort or fun at all. Like Ancipital, the attack patterns lack elegance. Also like Ancipital, some of the rooms require you to figure out the actual objective, IE how to kill the enemies. Jeff seemed to have understood how unintuitive some of the rooms in Ancipital were and included help screens. There’s no such thing in Mama Llama. There’s no help at all really. Whatever. I thought the action was sloppy and boring and the controls were some of the worst in this entire set. I wish I had just abandoned ship and moved on to the next game sooner than I did. Any critic who shat upon this in 1984? You’re vindicated. This was crap. Though I’m happy Jeff came to terms with it. I’ve met plenty of developers who never have that come to Jesus moment with their bad games. You’re a good dude, Jeff Minter.
Verdict: NO!

Colourspace
Platform: Atari 8-Bit
Year: 1985
Designed by Jeff Minter

Take everything I said about Psychedelia and multiply it by three or four. Jeff famously visualized colors and shapes moving to the beat of Pink Floyd. I speculated that he had an experience with what’s called Chromesthesia as a child but Jeff disagreed that it was anything neurological and actually gave me a quote for this feature (I added some commas only).

I think it was just that the synth riffs and filter sweeps of some of Floyd’s music inspired in me abstract dynamic geometric visualizations in my imagination, and I’d lie in the dark listening and imagining this stuff. And as I grew up, whereas most kids daydream about playing guitar in a band or whatever, I would imagine that one day someone would make some kind of “instrument” to externalize these things and I’d be “playing” that. It was only years later having learnt to code and started making games I realized that I could use those tools to try making such a thing myself.

In a way I consider that my real life’s work, as it goes back deeper than before I ever saw a video game, and I am still developing the idea to this day, and always will be, until I’m planted. In later years the games stuff and the lightsynth stuff have drawn closely together, and in my new engine they pretty much fully intertwine.
-Jeff Minter

I’ll tell you this: Jeff wanted to give people an experience like he had. He succeeded. Even if Jeff’s motivation for these wasn’t to make a video art toy, that’s what they are, and damn fun art toys at that. Like, I got a Spirograph for Christmas one year. I bet a LOT of you reading this did as well, and, of course, Jeff had one too. These light synthesizers are essentially video game versions of a Spirograph type of toy. Only I never could quite get things to look good with my Spirograph. Mostly I just made bland circles and had no clue what I was doing. I equally had no clue what I was doing with Colourspace but it’s a lot easier to “make art” with it. After watching everyone in my family take their turns, I used the built-in music overlay, tweaked a few of the options, and got this thirty second clip. Okay, so it’s not going to be played on loop in the Louvre, but I was pretty happy with it!

And if that looks too good to be Atari 8-Bit, you’re right. Digital Eclipse added a few options, something that’s not advertised anywhere in the package, as far as I could tell. They then used the updated Colourspace to generate all the backgrounds in The Jeff Minter Story’s menus. It’s hypnotic and beautiful. Simply beautiful. Okay, so there’s a LOT more options for Colourspace, even a two player mode. More options means a steeper learning curve than Psychedelia. But after playing Mama Llama, trust me, this thing is Pong levels of intuitive in comparison. Besides, the learning process is fun by itself since you get to see the effects of each toggle play out in real time. Most importantly, everyone had a great time with this, from children as young as Sasha the Kid to my nearly 80-year-old godfather. Again. Jeff gave me two experiences with a family of non-gamers who were smiling and laughing while complementing each-other’s efforts, and I’ll never forget it. Will I ever play it again after I finish this project? Maybe not, but at the same time, I wouldn’t be surprised if I busted this out from time to time to show people how easy you can make art with a mere “video game.” Deciding the value relative to the other games in this collection was hard, so I decided to go off the fact that Colourspace made everyone I love happy, and dammit, that matters a whole lot to me.
Verdict: YES! – $4 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Batalyx
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1985
Designed by Jeff Minter

This is six different, smaller games, so I’ll just treat this like six separate reviews. And I’ll note that you’re apparently supposed to be able to switch to different mini-games on the fly and that was lost in translation. I can only review the game I’m presented with, not what I’m supposed to be able to do. But take this review with a grain of salt because apparently Digital Eclipse messed this up.

The rare game where I had to deliberately die off and I almost gave up on that, except I wanted my high score 😛

SPLIT DECISION: Hallucin-O-Bomblets

Have you ever blown up a balloon then let go of it and watched it fly around the room as the air let out of it? Okay, Hallucin-O-Bomblets is like that if you put a gun on the balloon. Which I tried once, and my parents are still pissy with me. Oh come, Mom! You can barely notice your limp! H-O-B is not the deepest game but it’s enjoyable enough as a time waster. The idea is you only move via the blow back of your gun, so you’re pushed in the opposite direction you shoot. I had enough fun that I have to give it a YES! but I need to also point out that, in only my second round, I seemingly built-up so much life from playing well (and I played kind of conservatively) that I basically couldn’t die. I think that’s what happened, anyway. Once I reached 4.7 million points, I noticed that I wasn’t dying from crashing into enemies. Oh I was losing more progress, but I could get that right back. In fact, my “health” was barely ticking down at all. I still have a ton of games left to review and I needed to move on, so I gave up on playing carefully and just held diagonally on my controller. Despite crashing into one enemy after another, it took me over five minutes to game over and I finished with 4.9 million points. IN MY SECOND GAME! There’s an excellent arcader in here but the challenge and health system needs to be completely retooled.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

The camels can lay down. Yeah, smart move to not put this as a solo release.

SPLIT DECISION: Attack of the Mutant Camels II

For what it’s worth, this sequel does somewhat improve the combat of the Attack of the Mutant Camels/Empire Strikes Back formula because the camels do something besides lumber forward. They also now jump, duck, and sometimes new ones fall from the sky. It’s raining camels, which is ridiculous. It’s like Moses’ brother wanted to one-up him for the frogs and gnats and just took it too far. “For f*ck’s sake, brother! God was planning on wiping out the first born of each Egyptian and you somehow did worse THAN THAT! AND THERE’S CAMEL JUICE EVERYWHERE!” Anyway, their projectiles are also much more balanced instead of being too quick to reasonably avoid. So yeah, this is an overall improvement, but the problem is, it’s the same formula for Empire Strikes Back that I found to be really boring. And that part is unchanged.
Verdict: NO!

You’re supposed to light up the pyramid. Bad idea. People will strip the surface for its precious, precious limestone.

SPLIT DECISION: The Activation of Iridis Base

This is kind of like a Dragon’s Lair type of game. You’re given a direction to push, and you have to push it. It mostly didn’t seem to respond to my button presses. Especially with the fire button. I tried holding the button and pressing the direction. I tried pressing the direction and the fire button at the same time. I’m almost certain I NEVER succeeded when the fire button was involved. Then again, I’m pretty sure most of my left-directions also failed. I had a couple other people in the family try this one out and they experienced the same thing: the fire button stuff never seemed to work. Maybe we’re playing it wrong, but if that’s the case, maybe you should have included better instructions, Digital Eclipse. We tried rewinding the fire button stuff and redoing it every possible way and it still failed. Whatever. I doubt anyone is buying this collection to play this.
Verdict: NO! 

Babe Ruth was famous for saying “I hit big or I miss big.” I feel that’s where Jeff is with the weird, experimental stuff. The big misses like Mama Llama I’m fine with never playing anything like them again. The big hits, stuff like this? I’d like to see it explored a lot more.

SPLIT DECISION: Cippy On The Run

Easily the most compelling game in the set and one of the most original in the entire Llamasoft collection. Using the same gravity engine that Jeff previously implemented in other games, the object is to guide a goat across a floor and a ceiling. Walking on any gray tiles turns them colorful. The object is simply to change all the gray tiles to colored tiles. The enemies don’t actually screw with you but they can cost you by changing the tiles into the dreaded green-blue titles (anyone who plays Magic: The Gathering knows that green-blue players are inhuman creatures made not of flesh and blood like you or I but instead out of pure, unadulterated evil) that cause you to reverse gravity. Or they do other undesirable and seemingly random effects like send you away from the section you’re working on. It’s actually totally possible to play this without shooting and still have a good time.

Maybe this goat is the inventor of Samus Aran’s speed booster?

The only way you can die is by falling in a pit. At first, I thought you moved too quickly for a game with pits, but then I noticed the radar that gives you more than ample warning that they’re coming. When I kept an eye on the radar, I suddenly felt this exhilarating rush as I was able to run without stopping, swapping from the ceiling to the floor and experiencing a sense of speed that few games of this era offered. The controls are responsive enough that Cippy almost feels like a precursor to a certain blue hedgehog in terms of the velocity at which you can play this. Cippy feels like a prototype for a potentially historically awesome game. I wish it did more, but what it does was pretty addictive, actually. I’d like to see this concept explored more. A lot more, actually.
Verdict: YES! – $2 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
Best Game in Batalyx

What’s with the “II” you ask? Apparently the original was included in a magazine called Commodore Horizons.

SPLIT DECISION: Syncro II

I can honestly say I’ve never seen a concept like Syncro II. You have a 8×5 grid of mats that are functionally like treadmills that you can set to move in eight different directions. Moving one of a color moves ALL of that color (and matching patterns). While you do this, orbs are bouncing around the playfield, and the object of the game is to simply get the orbs to stop moving. It’s a really neat idea that’s failed by some maddeningly loose controls. It’s too damn hard to move the cursor one space. This in a game where you probably want to make small movements since the idea is you’re trying to create a pathway that will guide the orbs into a treadmill that is the exact opposite speed and trajectory they’re moving, which is what stops them. If movement was accurate, I’d given this a YES! in a heartbeat for pure, charming originality. Instead, pressing a direction pad might move two or more spaces in that direction instead of one. It’s too loose for a game where precision is so necessary.
Verdict: NO!
Seriously, redo this with better controls and I’m in.

These things are kind of like a Rorschach test, huh? Well, let’s put that to the test. I asked everyone what they saw. TJ: “the Predator.” Angela: “a spider.” Dad “a bug.” Sasha: “a bug shooting laser eyes.” Mom: “like something in Avatar.” AJ: “a perched dragon fly.” Shay: “a monster with (laser) eyes.” Sarah: “a dream catcher.” My friends Saud and Oz said “a spider or scarab” or “a GlaDOS-like robot.” I have to say, I don’t see a spider, Angela and Saud, but I can see everyone else’s things. Sorry, Sis. Sorry, Saud. I think Oz was the winner, though he picked the wrong fictional robot. “See ya later, Navigator!” (smiles) YOU SEE IT!

SPLIT DECISION: Psychedelia

The only reason I’m giving this a NO! is because this version of Psychedelia has a lot fewer options than the other version of Psychedelia. You can sort of see the “horizon effect” here that you can adjust to look a variety of different ways. It’s fun for a minute or two but nothing compared to the full Psychedelia release, and coming after Colourspace, it’s really got nothing left to offer. Tellingly, nobody really wanted to play this build. They wanted more time with Colourspace. Actually, I kind of think I could go back and change the original Psychedelia to a NO! as well since NOBODY wants to go back and play it, but everyone kind of wants to replay Colourspace. I’m not going to retroactively drop the original build’s YES!, but really, if you play with just Colourspace, you won’t miss out on anything.
Verdict: NO!
Total Value for Batalyx: $3

Iridis Alpha
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1986
Designed by Jeff Minter
Apparently Uses Incorrect ROM

Oh thank God. This is the final game in the collection with a reputation for being confusing. Thankfully, I found a YouTube video that did a pretty good job explaining it. Good job, Highlander71. Hey, wait. How can you be the seventy-first highlander? I was told there could only be one! You ruined the canon for me forever! YOU SON OF……

The game that I kept calling “Idris Elba” is yet another experimental, high concept shooter that I thought just wasn’t worth the effort of learning. The idea is that you control a ship in two channels at once and have to transfer energy between the two. It’s kind of like Defender in that each wave requires you to destroy X amount of ships, but it’s not “Defender-like” in the same way that Sheep in Space was. Since the playfield is split in two AND has to accommodate a status bar, the playfields are really cramped and I felt that made the action pretty bland, actually. It’s too hard to avoid enemies or things you don’t want to collect. Unlike Llama Mama, I decided to not spend an entire day trying to force myself to understand what exactly Jeff was aiming for here. Iridis Alpha made me appreciate what a vast, open playfield does for games like Defender, because I thought this was difficult to the point of being demoralizing and f*cking boring as an action game. When I reached the fourth level and died, respawned and immediately died again, I thought “I have never enjoyed a game that does that type of design. What am I doing with my life?” Not playing this anymore, that’s for sure. Thankfully, the end of the convoluted games has arrived.
Verdict: NO!

Revenge of the Mutant Camels II
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1987
Designed by Jeff Minter

Mutant camel? Bullsh*t! I know the Loch Ness Monster when I see it.

Holy smokes! I like a Mutant Camel game! This is a BIG improvement over the original Revenge of the Mutant Camels. Movement is still stiff, but it’s not as sluggish as it was. Most importantly, you move faster and the enemy attack patterns are much more elegant. This is what I think he wanted Revenge 1 to be and it wasn’t. Plus, you’re not stuck to the ground with only a heavy jump at your disposal. This time, the camel can fly. It’s a little awkward to get the hang of, but after a few minutes I was able to bob-and-weave around enemies, and the eight-way shooting is more responsive too. Don’t get me wrong: this isn’t exactly Konami SHMUP levels of satisfying. But it’s still a vast upgrade, and there’s even more.

On one hand, those eyes are crossed. On the other hand, this color scheme made me think of Tales From the Darkside, a show that I was TERRIFIED of as a child. The theme music scared me so badly I couldn’t be alone in a room until I was like 30 years old. And now I’m hearing that music in my head. Well I’ll be hiding under the blankets for the next few weeks now, thank you so much Jeff.

You can enter a shop between stages to buy extra lives, health refills, or temporary upgrades to guns. Two of those upgrades I wasn’t impressed with: heat seeking bullets that you don’t even really shoot and ones called “yo-yo bullets” that return to you. Hell, some levels you can’t even use the heat seeking ones because you don’t actually want to kill some things, but you can’t know that until you go into the stage. Seems kind of like a dick move to even include that option but whatever. I didn’t like using them anyway. The gigantic bullets, on the other hand, were really satisfying. Honestly Jeff should have considered making them permanent.

I was kidding about the Tales from the Darkside thing before! This is literally the next stage! IT’S EVEN WORSE! I WAS KIDDING! (hides under blanket)

Now, the catch to the shop is that you only get a limited amount of currency even if you play the levels well, and each time you buy something, the price goes up for the next time. This means you’re incentivized to use the shop sparingly, since nothing besides lives and health carry over between stages. I don’t know if the prices are necessarily properly balanced, but the idea does work. Yet, I kind of wish the big bullets were just a thing the game did. I was even able to test this.Revenge of Mutant Camels II is one of a handful of games in Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story that offers cheat code toggles. The toggle for this game? Unlimited currency. So after trying (and failing) for several hours to beat the game on its terms, I decided to turn on the toggle, crank up my lives, and see how much fun I could have with just the big bullets. And I had a LOT more fun with those bullets. I also still died a whole lot. The game would have sacrificed essentially nothing by just making them THE bullets. Either way, I liked this.
Verdict: YES! – $3 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

At this point, the documentary had a clip for another light synthesizer called “Trip-a-Tron” that’s not included but it looks positively tantalizing. I’m guessing this is one of those “only works with a mouse and keyboard” things, except the documentary says it works with a joystick. Awwww. What a tease.

Voidrunner
Platform: Commodore 64
Year: 1987
Designed by Jeff Minter

Yet another game where screenshots don’t do it justice. Trust me, this is the good stuff.

As the finale of the Commodore 64 era of this set, it’s hard to imagine a more fitting swan song than Voidrunner. The third game in the Gridrunner series is the best yet and, yet again, one of the best arcaders ever on a home computer. Don’t worry though, because Voidrunner has enough newness to not give me “broken record” syndrome. Actually, it feels very modern in many ways. Take the existing Gridrunner formula and sprinkle a little WarioWare on it. Just a little. Voidrunner’s twist is that you control four ships at once. For the first level, they’re lined up with the middle two ships together and two more flanking their corners. All four are pointed at the ceiling and you just fire away at the standard Gridrunner/Centipede arrangement with four times the firepower. Okay, that alone is interesting for a minor upgrade, though I admit at first I was like “that’s grasping at straws for a sequel.” But then the second level had the same aligned formation, only with the ships pointed downward, and I sat up in my chair. Then in the third level, this happened:

You got my attention, Voidrunner!

And yes, the formation changes every level. Like I said, it makes Voidrunner feel slick and modern in a way few games from this era do. Hell, Voidrunner could have stuck to the same enemy attack formations and it would still feel fresh from the player formations alone, but Voidrunner doesn’t do that. Each stage genuinely does feel like it tailors the enemy attacks to the stage’s formation. There’s no sense of being arbitrary. I thought “surely it’ll run out of steam at some point.” It doesn’t because there’s so many twists along the way. Some stages have ships that can be separated, with one or more ships moving the opposite direction the primary ship (which is always green) does. Sometimes the ships are arranged in pairs that face each other with only a tiny gap between them that requires you to sandwich enemies.

You’d think this would be frustrating, but I enjoyed this level. I’ve never played an arcader like it.

Now, there is one annoyance: I hated the static-like background. THAT’S NOT A VOID! It’s too visually loud, and having the pods match the color of the little static dots in the background can be very annoying. A lot of Jeff’s games, especially these days, tend to be “graphically noisy” for the sake of punishing players for not paying close enough attention. Voidrunner feels like the first game in this collection where that idea is leaned heavily into and, maybe, is meant to be the main challenge. It was an idea too ahead of its time, as I really think I would have liked the game more if I could have turned this off. That’s little more than a nitpick though. Honestly, I feel like Voidrunner is the game where Jeff Minter proved that Gridrunner or Laser Zone weren’t flukes. With Voidrunner, he proved beyond any lingering doubt that he’s an ELITE game designer. It’s not even as hard as you would think, either. It’s one of his most balanced games. It’s like everything that I’ve played so far led up to this: a game with all of the best action and none of the garbage. A pure action masterpiece and a killer app for this package.
Verdict: YES! – $8 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
Awarded “Killer App” Status for Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Super Gridrunner
Platform: Atari ST via Atari Jaguar
Year: 1989
Designed by Jeff Minter

Yeah, this is fun. Very hard. Very, very hard. But fun.

When Jeff’s in the mood to make an intense game, he really puts his back into it. Among the YES! games in this collection, this is probably second only to Hellgate in terms of difficulty. This is the result of having a much more compact playfield. There’s not a ton of room to dodge, and after just a few levels the enemies can fly onto the screen VERY fast. Like, I’ve used fast forward on some emulators before to get past boring parts in games and the fast forward wasn’t as fast as the enemies in this game. I’m not a fan of that, by the way. I really think the status bar at the bottom is too big at the cost of the playfield. It’s a claustrophobic game, and sometimes that works out, but I don’t think it’s to Super Griddy’s benefit. Again, look how fast enemies can enter the screen.

And mind you that, when you kill enemies, they become pods that eventually drop missiles. But the pods also become solid surfaces that can change the direction of the other enemies. When they move that quickly, it’s asking a lot from players since they inevitably deflect off their deceased comrades. I could have used a bomb there, except, there’s a catch. Smart bombs in Super Gridrunner are called in the game’s instruction booklet, I sh*t you not, “Voluntary Martyrdom.” You lose a life, your ship turns into a ghost for ten seconds, and all enemies on the screen are turned into bonus points, you don’t have to restart the stage, and you get to keep your multiplier. Thankfully, the game offers a lot of flexibility to make up for the tomfoolery in the form of being able to turn the nose of your ship into a turret.

How come the nosecone fires bigger shots than the ship? Just make the ship out of nosecones! DON’T YOU WANT TO WIN THE WAR?! (I presume there’s a war)

Inspired by R-Type, the nosecone function can be used two ways. You can either set it up as something that you shoot to “augment” your bullets and launch them in different directions that you manually set. The other option is what I mostly opted for: placing the nosecone on one half the screen while I stayed in the other half. There’s a sharp learning curve to positioning it, but it works and is a nice touch. Sigh. Honestly, the gameplay is probably the most flawed of any game that put over $2 in value into the pot because I really do think that some of the enemy patterns and especially their speed is trollish. But the action is also REALLY good in this, and it certainly offers the most intense challenge in the franchise yet. I think Voidrunner was more worthy of the “Super” title but this version of Gridrunner is fine.
Verdict: YES! – $3 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Attack of the Mutant Camels ’89*
Platform: Konix Multi-System
Unreleased Work-in-Progress Prototype* (Ver 0.4)
Designed by Jeff Minter

*Because this is so early into production that it doesn’t have win/fail conditions or even a title screen, I’m not issuing a verdict for it. It’s in the proof of concept stage of development, so please consider Attack of the Mutant Camels ’89 to be a special bonus for the collection and not a featured game.

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The Konix Multi-System was an ambitious and powerful game machine designed by some Sinclair castaways who founded a company called Flare Technology. The Konix started life as a platform/standard called “Flare One” that was used in a handful of unsuccessful arcade units before it became the Konix Multi-System. After the Multi-System was cancelled, the team didn’t give up and developed the Flare II, which did eventually get bought and released under a different name. You know it now as the Atari Jaguar. My sister said it best: “these guys should sell their life’s story. There’s a wacky dramedy in there somewhere.” Yeah, especially since at least one of them didn’t recognize Tempest 2000 as a good game. That actually explains a lot, come to think of it. Jeff developed this updated Mutant Camels game for it, but what’s here isn’t even close to a finished game. Be warned: I died just seconds into my first game when I got hit by a rocket. Not that it matters. There’s no lives and no limits to how often you can switch your guns. A BIG variety of guns, mind you, most of which are satisfying to use. It also controls well, but this isn’t close to finished. It makes for a one-of-a-kind curio though and is worth a look.
I’m awarding $1 in bonus value to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story for it.

Llamatron: 2112
Platform: Atari ST via Atari Jaguar*
Year: 1991
Designed by Jeff Minter

*UPDATE: I’ve gotten a few people who noted that this version is not a very good approximation of the ST original. Specifically the sound is considered exceptionally bad in this build. For collections like this, my review is for the version IN the collection. Sometime in the near future, I will try to play the original Atari ST build via an ST-specific emulator.

I wish every good game was also “uncomplicated good” like this.

Aww jeez. While watching the shareware portion of Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story, Jeff choked up when he talked about Llamatron, and that had me wiping tears. Unlike many shareware products of the 90s, Llamasoft just gave away the full Llamatron game and said “if you like it, please register it for £5.” Approximately eight hundred people did, but some didn’t just send him a “fiver.” They thought it was an underpay and sent him more. I didn’t know what to expect except a game that directly satirized the legendary Williams arcade classic Robotron: 2084. And it’s basically that, only with power-ups, warps, and a ton of wacky humor. There’s some genuinely inspired twists on the formula. Even environmental ones, despite keeping strictly to the Robotron formula. Like this:

The raindrops are lethal, but if you touch the closed umbrella that bounces around the stage, it stops raining. And if you find a pair of toe socks on your roof, please mail them back to me because this charmed my socks off.

Now, all is not perfect, as I don’t think the difficulty curve is well balanced at all. It starts off pretty good and feels like it scales properly, but then at level 18 (which you can warp to from level 13) the game straight up says “alright, you’ve had your fun. Now you must die.” I thought it was because I had warped, so on my second playthrough, I wasn’t going to…… only the damn item to warp sort of drifted over to me and I did it anyway. AND THEN IT DID IT AGAIN IN THE THIRD GAME! In the fourth game, I cheated and used save states to make sure I could finally play levels 14 – 17, and my hypothesis was wrong. Those levels scaled, more or less, how they should have, and then level 18 is just a gigantic wall with the words F*CK YOU! written on them.

If you’re playing on a console, yes, you can use classic Robotron twin-stick gameplay. Evercade users are kind of SOL there.

The good news is you get three continues, so it’s not like I *died died* on Level 18. I just burned through all the lives I built up, and then everything after level 18 feels like the game spontaneously switched from NORMAL to EXTRA HARD. As frustrating as that is, holy cow, Llamatron has a legitimate argument for being the best game in this entire collection. I’m not quite going there because I think Voidrunner and Tempest 2000 are exceptionally strong games, but please don’t mistake this as a Robotron clone (and actually please delete the word “clone” from your gaming vocabulary unless you’re talking about a literal carbon copy clone). But Llamatron is clearly in the top three. I wish there were a little more in the way of power-ups and I wish some elements didn’t flash as badly so I could have seen things better, but I really enjoyed this a lot. And by the by, since I know you’re reading this Digital Eclipse: will you get off your butts and get the Midway/Williams/Bally license so we can get a modern Midway Arcade Treasures? Please? Pretty please?
Verdict: YES! – $8 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
Awarded “Killer App” Status for Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Revenge of the Mutant Camels
Platform: Atari ST via Atari Jaguar
Year: 1991
Designed by Jeff Minter

That’s supposed to be Jeff Minter throwing llamas at me. I thought this was supposed to be a game about Mutant Camels, not based on the story of this Definitive Review.

I’ve heard that some people aren’t thrilled with the Atari ST emulation in this set, which runs through the Atari Jaguar’s emulator. For Llamatron (shrug) I pointed at something and it died. But for this final Mutant Camel game in the collection, there’s a pronounced sluggishness. Maybe that’s on brand for the Mutant Camel franchise, but jumping almost straight from Llamatron to this game, I felt the difference in responsiveness and wasn’t happy at all. So I must have hated Revenge of the Mutant Camels ST, right? I did at first, but once I got over the controls, I have to admit that I went from wishing to be done with it so I could FINALLY play Tempest 2000 to not being sad that I needed a few more rounds. The twist: an NPC helper (that can double as player two’s character if you go that route), worked well. I like how it works too: you can leave it to its own devices and let it just wander around and shoot things. Or, you can lay down and the goat will ride you, and it’ll target things more smartly.

The power-ups can become screen-filling if you upgrade them enough. By the way, those apples are shield refills. Apparently twelve is a full shield. I think it’s too small of increments for a game that controls this stiff and has this much action without this much movement flexibility. A division of eight would have been preferred.

The items did too, including some pretty inspired ones. Some items even do things like speed up the scrolling, which is useful in a game that’s about distance covered and not enemies slain. There’s even layers to the NPC too, since it can collect items independently that benefits you both. I still preferred having the goat ride me, but I’m all about player decisions and strategic flexibility. Meanwhile, while the level themes from the original Mutant Camels return, they just play better here, with more elegant enemy attacks (though not as good as Revenge II in my opinion). I’m still not happy with the movement, and there’s too many whammy items that screw with that movement, but the final computer game of this collection is a good finishing note.
Verdict: YES! – $2 in value added to Llamasoft – The Jeff Minter Story

Tempest 2000
Platform: Atari Jaguar
Year: 1994
Designed by Jeff Minter
Also Included in Atari 50: The Anniversary Celebration (Core Set)

I’m a fan of Tempest already, but this? It’s addictive in a way the original game isn’t. I also didn’t think I’d ever have a game this good (level 32, baby!) but this is easier to get the hang of than I expected.

When Jeff Minter met one of the architects of the Jaguar hardware, they were apparently unaware he was the designer of Tempest 2000 and proceeded to slam the game to him, saying it didn’t show off the potential of the Jaguar and was a “make-weight game” which I didn’t know what that meant but apparently it’s the same as me saying some games are +1s to collections, only without any potential for positivity (hey, I’ve praised many +1s). Anyway, the Jaguar designer wasn’t done, telling Jeff he thought it was “rubbish.” This isn’t one of those situations where I’m clutching my pearls saying “I can’t believe someone who was responsible for the Jaguar said that about Tempest 2000!” Actually, I could believe someone responsible for the Jaguar would say something so clueless because, going off the architecture of the Jaguar, it’s clear the people behind it wouldn’t know a decent video game if it sat on their face and had a little wiggle. Tempest 2000 is a bonafide masterpiece, Jeff’s finest hour, and one of the greatest video games ever made.

And the best part is, if you want just the original, no frills Tempest, only updated for the Jaguar (and without the spinner, obviously), that’s here too. Or, you can play Tempest Plus, which also offers features like a permanent CPU assistant. I thought this made the game a little too easy since the CPU is one of the better independent CPU drones in an action game. It IS reliable and doesn’t just blindly follow you around. But really, the meat of the game is the Tempest 2000 mode that has power-ups. The main one is a gun that’s better at carpeting the channels with bullets while moving. One brings back the drone from Tempest Plus and it’s just as useful and intelligent as it was in that game. And then one grants you the ability to jump. A jump with TONS of hang time that allows you to rain bullets on enemies that have reached the surface. I loved this jump. I’d put it right up there with Pac-Mania’s jump in the annals of all-time underrated gaming jumps.

Some of the shapes are hard to know which channels the things are on. Thankfully you can pull the camera back, but I rarely used it.

Even better is you get a bomb EVERY stage, and you also get an extra life every 20,000 points. You can even build up more lives than the game is capable of displaying. It’s one of Jeff’s most generous games, and it’s not as hard as you would think. It does eventually show its teeth, but it takes a while to get there. Maybe a couple dozen levels, but it’s never boring even when you have to start over from the beginning. I mean, you don’t HAVE to start over. The game offers a “key” system that allows you to continue from a previous point. Honestly, I preferred just to start over. The action in Tempest 2000 is just amazing. It’s so much more balanced than the coin-op original. This is the rare arcade-like game that remembers that it already has the player’s money and isn’t trying to siphon as many quarters as possible. It’s balanced, and it’s so fun. Believe all the hype on this one. Well, almost all of it.

Somewhere in Titus’ headquarters, their executives were playing Tempest 2000 and someone actually liked the bonus stage and said “I feel like Superman flying through these rings.” And then a light bulb went off. A horrible, horrible light bulb. Yes, I’m blaming Jeff Minter for Superman 64. I blame Jeff for everything. I stubbed my toe while waking up this morning and shook my fist. “GODDAMMIT JEFF!” I don’t know why my family is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. There really is a Jeff Minter! He lives on a magical llama farm and he makes pretty lights flash on the TV screen! “Sure he does, sweetie. You’re still taking your medicine, right?”

Yeah, the two bonus stages I managed to find weren’t very good at all. One of them involved flying through rings while the other involved staying on a green road. Neither of them feels at all connected to Tempest in any way, shape, or form. The cynic in me figured these were mandated by Atari to show off the 3D capabilities of the Jaguar but Jeff told me I was wrong and that he just figured players would want a break. I’d preferred bonus stages that were still twists on the shooting action. But it’s not a deal breaker. Tempest 2000 is the rare shooting gallery-style game that feels like it’s fun for everyone. And hell, if *I* could get nearly 500,000 points (though I never did end up getting #1 on the leaderboard, which is that 500K mark) anyone should be able to. Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story even allows you to overclock the Jaguar emulator to play at 60fps AND you can turn on analog controls. It’s never looked or played better. What more can I say? Sometimes, legends live up to the hype.
Verdict: YES! – $15 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story
But, if you already own Atari 50, you can remove this entirely from the tally. It won’t matter.
WINNER: Best Game in Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

Gridrunner: Remastered
Platform: Reimagined
Year: 2023
Designed by Mike J. Mika
Published by Digital Eclipse

I wish I had cut straight to this game after finishing the original Commodore 64 Gridrunner, which this game utilizes the code for. It would have been a delight if I had put my whole play session with it immediately following the C64 game. But, after playing Matrix and Voidrunner, it feels like a reduction.

Yeah, this is weird because it wouldn’t have been my first choice to get the full remastered treatment among the games in this set. I’d preferred something like Sheep in Space, Voidrunner, or even Laser Zone for that. Hell, even Hellgate would have been preferred. Don’t get me wrong: this is the best version of the original Gridrunner in this collection and a damn fun game in its own right. It’s much easier to tell when the lasers are going to fire. It’s much easier to tell when the pods are about to ripen. I was even able to deal with the last segments of the centipede better. It looks fantastic and modern. Getting the kids to try the “old” games in Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story was challenging, but if you paint over that old game with new graphics, it’s a cinch. I know this because the kids wanted to try it, and they liked it. A lot. Much like the Yars’ Revenge remastering in Atari 50, there’s nothing inherently sacred about the way the game looked in 1983. If Jeff could have made it look like this, he would have. Hell, he would have made it even more trippy. But a fun game is a fun game. That’s all I care about.
Verdict: YES! – $5 in value added to Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story

One hundred and sixty-one hours of gameplay later and I’m finally done. Sigh. I made it.

*I* thought Tempest 2000’s versus mode was a lot of fun. In theory at least, but nobody else in my house liked it so I couldn’t get quality time with it. I was stunned because this seemed like the type of pick-up-and-play game that I can usually get at least a half-an-hour out of them with. The idea is you’re on opposite sides of the tube and you can either win by shooting them down OR generating enemies that eventually get them. Again, I’d have loved to have played more but I had no willing opponents. Maybe I’m wrong because literally nobody else in my house liked it. Jeez fam. And people think *I’m* hard to please.

FINAL TOTAL

YES!: 25
NO!: 16
Total Game Value: $92 (including the $1 bonus for the Konix prototype)
Features & Emulation: $30
Total Fines: $15
Target Value: $30
Actual Value of Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story: $107

This is one of the best collections in terms of value for your dollar I’ve reviewed so far. Let’s play around with the combinations. As I noted above, if you already own Atari 50, go ahead and cross out $15 for Tempest 2000. Even removing the highest earning game in this set and you’re still at three-times the value of the price. And let’s say you really don’t give a squirt about old magazine ads or concept art. Drop the Features & Emulation total from $30 to $20. You’re still at $82 in value. God damn! Okay, let’s add back that $10 because you SHOULD think concept art and magazine ads are cool. What if this was “Gridrunner: The Jeff Minter Story” and it only featured games from that series? The Gridrunner franchise by itself earned $35 and made up the price of the set by themselves.

Since Tempest 2000 is in the best-selling Atari 50, I gave Voidrunner and Llamatron separate “Killer App” status awards. If I had only picked one, I would have gone with Voidrunner because I think it offers a more elegant twist on Centipede than Llamatron does with Robotron. And ultimately, Voidrunner is the reason why I’m not deleting the collection from my Switch 2 to save space. I’m not entirely sure I would fire up Llamatron again.

Commodore 64 games earned $35 in value. Commodore VIC-12 games earned $15 in value, for a combined value of $58. Sinclair fans, please don’t hate me. These were not the best games to show off your favorite 80s PC. The ZX Spectrum earned $0 while the ZX81 at least got on the scoreboard with $1. Atari platforms earned $35, with the ST putting up $13 of that, $15 from Tempest on the Jag, and Atari 8-Bit computers getting $7. So what if you’re NOT a fan of old computers? Uh, hello! Guys, I’m 36! I grew up with Windows. I’ve literally never touched a real Commodore computer. If I can enjoy these games, anyone can. Almost all of them are arcade games in everything but name. This isn’t a set for old timey computers. It’s a set for great video games that anyone can enjoy. It’s a fantastic set made by a fantastic designer of games, and I’m happy to have finally played through it.

Merry Jeffmas, everyone!

The Rocky Horror Show Video Game (Review)

The Rocky Horror Show Game
Platforms: Nintendo Switch, PlayStation, Steam
Released October 20, 2024
Developed by Freakzone Games
$9.99 kept incorrectly adding the word “Picture” in the making of this review. It’s JUST “The Rocky Horror Show Video Game.”
The Nintendo Switch version was played for this review.

OH MY GOD! It’s…..It’s….. It’s the villain from Congo! Get ’em away from me! Yuck! I hated that f*cking movie!

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m friends with Freakzone Games, which is one guy: Sam. Now, I never factor friendships into the verdicts of my reviews, but I figure you should know that I like Sam as a person and as a game maker, in that order. That’s in contrast to the 1975 motion picture The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which I don’t like at all. It bores me, but it’s nothing personal. I just don’t like musicals. I usually don’t watch them unless they involve Disney animation or, more rarely, giant carnivorous plants and evil dentists. Now I’m from a family of cinephiles and the lone hold out in my family for Rocky Horror fandom, so it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with it. Rocky Horror Picture Show for me is in the same boat as other “cult” movies like The Room or Manos: Hands of Fate (ironically another flick that Freakzone adapted) in that I have tried so many times to sit all the way through it and have never come close to finishing the film in a single sitting. It’s not for me, which in theory means the game isn’t for me, right? Well, it’s not that simple. Even if you’re not a fan, I can explain why you’ll want to keep reading with a single screenshot. This one:

Actually, change that, because I meant “it’s actually a satire of games using a Rocky Horror foundation.” Don’t mistake this for Castlevania because it doesn’t play anything like any of those games. The gameplay is more like the Sega Master System/Game Gear classics starring Mickey Mouse that I genuinely think are some of the best 8-bit games ever. Specifically the 8-bit Castle of Illusion and Land of Illusion games (Legend of Illusion sucks) where you pick up crates that can be thrown at enemies or stacked for platforming. Take that gameplay concept and turn it into a death-count punisher and you have The Rocky Horror Show Video Game. The best thing I can say about Rocky Horror is that it confirmed to me that throwing crates at things is just about the most satisfying attack method a 2D platformer can have. It’s hard to screw up, and Sam didn’t. It controls great too. The two biggest things that he had to get right, action and play control, he nailed.

I died about, oh, one microsecond after this picture was taken.

The gameplay is little more than a skeleton for plenty of saucy humor and a satire on classic gaming at large. Yep, like his (fantastic) Angry Video Game Nerd games (has it really already been four years since I reviewed those?), Sam used Rocky Horror to poke those precious, precious memberberries with a stick. The Rocky Horror Show Video Game is overflowing with gags and direct homages on video games and game design. It apparently even kind of takes shots at the culture surrounding the Rocky Horror film. Sometimes it’s really subtle. I’m tone deaf so take this with a grain of salt, but I could swear I heard a tiny riff from the soundtrack of the Capcom NES classic Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers at one point.

There’s six of those disco balls in the game, which I think can become permanently out of reach if you die trying to get the crates to build a ladder to them. I got 3 out of 6 in my two sessions.

Now any satire like this is ultimately going to devolve into “hey, you know that thing you know about? I too know about that thing you know about and I made reference to it in my thing!” Sam isn’t THAT lazy about it and puts a small little twist on his references, but they are still just references at the end of the day. If you’re someone who laughs at those types of jokes without fail, you’ll probably like Rocky Horror even more than I did. That stuff doesn’t really land with me, but that’s kind of liberating because it allows me to focus on JUST the gameplay. For the Rocky Horror references, my sister Angela, a fan of Rocky Horror, was kind enough to watch me play and, while she had a valid criticism that I’ll get to later, she said that fans of the film will recognize lines, and the timing and delivery of the Rocky Horror-related humor was, more or less, on par with the film. Now whether fans of the film would want to play a punisher-platformer is another matter altogether. Angela was stunned by the genre. She thought the game would resemble something like Undertale, which would lend itself more to the film. “I don’t want to play a hard game where I’ll die a lot. I want a Rocky Horror video game experience. I won’t be able to finish this!”

I’m pretty sure there’s only three basic enemy types: the skeletons pictured here, brains that float at you, and ghosts that have what I assume is a famous scream from a sound library. It’s not a very big variety which is a bit of a bummer since the combat is satisfying.

As a raw video game, Rocky Horror is good but not great. It’s not at all gripping like the Angry Video Game Nerd 1 & 2 Deluxe was. The gameplay and level settings are too repetitive for that. Unlike AVGN, I really think the license here was too limiting for anything really imaginative. This is a standard point-A to point-B game with no items to find. There are health upgrades but they’re literally given to you at the start of stages or during one boss sequence. Only one boss is really played differently from the others, as it’s done like an avoider (this was the joke that landed best with Angela, though she missed the Donkey Kong joke that was attached to it). There’s no lives and no fail conditions. You can’t game over, so if you die, you restart from a nearby checkpoint, and the game is VERY generous with checkpoints. Rinse and repeat until you defeat Tim Curry three times and the credits roll.

After beating the game once, you unlock “new game plus” which pays homage to the midnight screening culture of Rocky Horror where people dress up and scream things at the screen. As far as gags go, I suppose this is a pretty fitting one. If you’re into that sort of thing. Angela suggested a “fill in your own dialog” option to be a true tribute to this culture.

My biggest knock easily is that the game gets off to a slow start. The structure of the film had to be obeyed, so the game starts with one character (representing two characters) hopping through some shockingly bland level design. That part had me very worried. The twist is that Rocky Horror has three playable characters, but while the gameplay is identical with all three, you’ll eventually replay some of the levels you already experienced, only with additional obstacles or enemies. For what it’s worth, that opening level that I thought was BORING actually becomes a very good stage when you factor-in all the stuff that will eventually be added to the replay later on with a different character. But this also means Freakzone Games sacrificed the first level to this concept. You can’t do that sh*t! The first level IS your first impression, and if it’s too bland, it could be the only impression you ever make. There’s nothing stopping a player from turning off the game and never turning it back on.

Sam, do you see me making games? No? Then DON’T DO MY JOB FOR ME! You stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine.

It’s also a really short game. Like, you should be able to finish your first play session in a couple hours at most, even if you die a lot, with a lot of that time eaten up by unskippable cut scenes. I died over 100 times and I still finished it in less time than it took to watch three episodes of Welcome to Derry, aka “why did we pass on Stranger Things?” Most of the level design comes down to stacking blocks to jump over walls or reach staircases or timing-based traps. Most of the obstacles aren’t enemies but rather spikes. Spiky balls that appear and disappear. Bigger spiky balls that fall from the ceiling when you get near them. The bosses are Mario 2/Castle of Illusion “throw the crates at the thing until you win” fights. Boilerplate stuff, but well-made boilerplate stuff. Seriously, if you want a perfectly decent platformer that costs $10 or less and will eat up three hours or less of your life (in theory I bet a person could beat this in an hour on their first try if they play well enough), this isn’t a bad choice for that just on its gameplay merits. The Rocky Horror theme or video game parodies that didn’t land with me could be the icing on the cake for you.

The other big “obstacle” is limiting the visibility to a spotlight that follows the player. I’ve never been a fan of this, but it’s fine here. It didn’t change my mind about this overused and overrated trope. It’s okay, or more accurately, tolerable in Rocky Horror.

Did I have fun? Yes, and since this wasn’t made for me, I guess that speaks volumes to how good Sam is at this, right? That’s assuming my original “not made for me” hypothesis is correct. But what would a Rocky Horror fan say about this? “I don’t get it,” said Angela. “Rocky Horror is defined by being a musical. Making a game that’s anything BUT a musical means it’s not really Rocky Horror, is it? It’s just something that looks like Rocky Horror.” But Angela isn’t a gamer and has no real vested interest in gaming history or culture. And NOW I get it. I was wrong about not being this game’s target audience. I either am or I’m a generation shy of that audience. What Sam did here isn’t made for Rocky Horror fans first and foremost. It’s a game for people like me who wonder “whose bright idea was it to make a Back to the Future NES game? That doesn’t work as an action game! It’s a f*cking fantasy romance! The structure is complete f*cking wrong for the type of game they made!”

And that’s really the thing about the Rocky Horror game. These sprites could have been for anything, for any movie license, and the same applies for the video game reference jokes that were made. The same jokes could have been made if this was a platformer based on It’s A Wonderful Life or Earth vs. The Flying Saucers. Why not? The sprites just happen to look like Rocky Horror sprites because that’s the license Sam was using. I did have fun. I really did. But the actual gameplay of The Rocky Horror Show Video Game is as generic as it gets. Sorry, Sam. I hope you know I love you. Seriously folks, Angela and me have been working on a superhero TV show concept for years now, and if it were to actually get made as a TV show and we were to ever license it for THIS type of platform game (even though it wouldn’t work as that but this is a hypothetical), Sam would not only be my first choice for developer, but he would be my only choice. If we offer him the license to make our superhero show as this type of platforming game and he says no, the game doesn’t happen. Ever. That’s how much stock I put in his ability.

The joke is that if they had made a Rocky Horror game in 1988 to 1991 at the peak of the NES, it’d be like this, only without the swearing and innuendos. As a quick aside, I hate it when games like this cuss. I know that sounds weird coming from me, but it breaks my immersion that I’m playing a lost game from that era. Either way, Rocky Horror doesn’t fit the platforming genre at all. THAT’S THE JOKE. The fact that a decent game is attached to that joke is just a bonus. Rocky Horror didn’t sell well, but I think it could be rescued because point-of-sale eShops are not the way to sell this thing. What Sam and his partners on this project need to do is find a publishing partner who will distribute physical copies of this in places like Spirit Halloween or Spencer’s Gifts. Spencer’s actually has a board game section with satires like Tipsy Land (a drinking game version of Candy Land). Why not video game satires? At least, that’s how you land casual fans. For everyone else? Yeah, it’s going to be problematic.

I didn’t want to spoil this but I think I have to. The opening dialog is framed like Legend of Zelda, right down to the music sounding just similar enough to fire-up your memberberries. It’s well done. I think people who see THIS would immediately get “oh, this isn’t a Rocky Horror game. It’s a game satire with a Rocky Horror theme.” But it doesn’t mean squat if you can’t even get the target audience to view a trailer or click the eShop page. Even media coverage won’t make a difference with non-fans because, AGAIN, the non-fan still has to click through and stay focused long enough to find out IT’S NOT JUST ROCKY HORROR GAME! I don’t know how you do that. A different logo maybe? Maybe it can’t be done.

So like, how do you get the word out on games like this? How do you get someone who would like this type of parody but not a Rocky Horror game to click the game’s page on an eShop? How do you get someone who isn’t a Rocky Horror fan to click a trailer? Because, gang, those are the questions that need answers if we want this to be a viable genre, and I think we do, right? More importantly, if you want rights holders to famous non-gaming IPs to give small developers like Sam these big licenses to work with, SOMEONE has to figure out the answer to that, because I really want more indie devs to land these famous licenses. I want stuff like this to keep coming out. But if I hadn’t been friends with Sam, I’d never even given this game a second thought. A license by itself is only going to appeal to the fans of the license. That’s why you get the f*cking license in the first place, right? But, depending on the license, it can be just as much a barrier to your target audience as it is an attraction. With all due respect Sam, it’s not up to me or anyone in gaming media to get the word out that Rocky Horror isn’t ROCKY HORROR in capital letters. You have to do that……… somehow. How? I dunno. Hey, you’re the one who wanted this license. You figure it out.

I hope what I wrote about the game doesn’t make it sound bland or anything. When Rocky Horror finds its teeth, it’s a damn solid platformer. It’s not amazing, but it’s not average, either. Especially the home stretch with the wheelchair guy. FYI, it controls exactly the same. There’s no skidding or anything like that. It’s just a different sprite, but the challenge is pretty high once he shows up, and I enjoyed it very much. Sometimes I just want a simple, stupid, no frills platformer that controls perfectly, you know?

Every single maker of games who nabs a famous but audience-specific license, from AAAs to small indie studios, is going to face the same “getting the word out that our game is actually FOR EVERYONE” problem. The recent Garbage Pail Kids game certainly struggled with that. I have no idea how well GPK sold, but I don’t think it did great, even though it’s a very good video game. I LOVED IT, and I’m not a fan at all of Garbage Pail Kids as a franchise. For the studio and publishers behind Garbage Pail Kids, that sounds like a dream scenario, doesn’t it? Even a non-fan loved it! But the truth is, if I had not been a game critic, I would have never played Garbage Pail Kids. Judging by how the review has done, I don’t think many non-GPK fans have read it, either. I only started playing it because I thought I could get interesting content out of it. I had no clue how much I would like it. Maybe they’re proud I liked it and gave it a glowing review, but 99.99% of your audience isn’t making content. They just want a fun game for their money, and maybe your license isn’t the blessing you thought it was. How do you get someone who thinks Garbage Pail Kids are stupid but loves NES platformers to play a really well made NES platformer with a GPK license? Good question, and I don’t have the answer.

Same with Rocky Horror. If Sam and I hadn’t been friends for over a decade (he even put an IGC easter egg in his Spectacular Sparky game), I wouldn’t have played it. I had fun with these games, so presumably gamers like me, and I consider myself the average gamer, would enjoy them too regardless of their love or hate of the IP. I feel horrible that this didn’t find its audience, because I know that the potential pool of satisfied customers is massive. A solidly designed platform game? Excellent play control? Fantastic chiptune soundtrack (UPDATE: Angela could easily recognize several chiptune renditions of film’s songs, which this review originally mentioned but I accidentally cut that line. My bad!). Decent enough combat (wish there had been a bigger variety of it). Good challenge? Doesn’t wear out its welcome? Yeah, this is a good, solid game. I don’t even mind the length since the amount of obstacles and enemies is so limited. If he wasn’t going to add more, I’m happy he didn’t just keep recycling for the sake of padding the playtime. The worst thing I could say about Rocky Horror is that it’s a bit of a slow riser, which hurts a little since it’s such a short game, but that’s not a deal breaker. I liked this regardless of the license, but that might not be the win for Sam that it sounds like on paper. The license doesn’t target everyone, does it? It targets Rocky Horror fans. A movie famous for taking a long time to find its audience and not doing well upon release. I’m guessing Sam wasn’t aiming for THIS direct of a tribute.
Verdict: YES!

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: Rita’s Rewind (Review)

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: Rita’s Rewind
Platforms: Everything. I think even refrigerators have it.
Released December 10, 2024
Developed by Digital Eclipse
$34.99 has a headache in the making of this review.
The Nintendo Switch version was played for this review.

That’s not Zordon. That’s the sit-up champion of the 27th century. Hold on, this DOES have time travel! Holy sh*t, is this a Bill & Ted game? HOLD ON, Bill and Ted are teenagers with attitude too! Dude. Someone make this crossover happen.

Last year, I reviewed all twelve Mighty Morphin Power Rangers games of the 1990s. Of those twelve games, two out of twelve scored YES! votes and ten scored NO!s. And hell, one of those YES! votes was for Jetman, a Super Sentai with no ties to the “Mighty Morphin” era that I only included because “why not?”  So the bar to clear for “best Mighty Morphin Power Rangers game” is set so low that I’m pretty sure the Tyrannosaurus Zord breaks through the bar when Jason summons it. There’s NO WAY Digital Eclipse could screw this up. They’re Digital Eclipse! They ran the table for original games in Atari 50! They did Alice in Wonderland for the Game Boy Color, a difficult movie to translate to video game form, and they nailed it! They seem to know what they’re doing! Sigh. After playing Rita’s Rewind, I’ve come to the conclusion Power Rangers is a cursed video game franchise. There’s no other explanation. I would have bet all the money in my pocket against all the money in yours that Digital Eclipse would have knocked this f*cker out of the park and created the hands-down best Power Rangers game of all-time beyond any dispute. They didn’t, and I’m still going with the Game Gear release for that title. What happened?

Oh right, that happened. And a lot of other “that happened” happenings happened.

When it sticks to the brawler parts of the game, Rita’s Rewind is mostly okay. Mostly. The combat, borrowing liberally from the classic arcade Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle games, has a nice high-impact OOMPHfulness to it that feels weighty and violent. The puddies make for good Foot Clan stand-ins and come in a wide variety, including three-headed giant-sized ones. They could have done the whole game like this with a single Megazord sequence and I think the reception would have been much more enthusiastic. By that, I think people would have universally said “meh, it’s fine” and yeah, it probably would have been the best Rangers game. Don’t get me wrong: Rewind’s brawling segments are nowhere near as good as Shredder’s Revenge. Don’t expect that. Not even close. The level design isn’t as strong, the combat is a step below, and some of the level settings are pretty damn dull. The best stage is easily one set in a carnival. As for the rest? Well, um…….. Oh boy, that carnival level was nice!

The big hook, the “time disruptors” are bombs you have to ping to death before they blow up. When they do, the action is rewound and you have to do everything in that screen again, only the damage you caused to the jar remains. The good news is, if you used a bomb before the explosion, you get the bomb back. Either way, the kids hated this part. Even Sasha the Kid says if she could cut one thing, this would be it, even more than the instakills or the length of the zord levels.

And there’s some really irritating decisions that were totally unnecessary, like losing every drop of your bomb charge if you fall off a pit. That’s too damn stiff a penalty for such a mundane thing. If your meter is charged all the way and you fall into a pit, you lose the bomb. F*ck that sh*t! Just take a tick off health! That’s tradition! Sucking possibly a whole bomb bar dry is borderline player abuse. Digital Eclipse made a big mistake there, because, get this, BOMBS IN BRAWLING GAMES AREN’T JUST BOMBS! They’re monotony breakers. When the same old fisticuffs start to wear thin, the meter is charged and you can unleash a satisfying, screen-clearing mega shot, and suddenly the punching and jump kicks aren’t as dull as they felt a second ago. Taking THAT away from your players as a penalty for such a run of the mill screw-up as falling into a pit is absurd, especially when a health slap makes sense on every possible level. Why would falling into a hole take away power from the f*cking Power Rangers?

And the bombs are SO cool too.

Having a variety of rangers doesn’t help thanks to an especially annoying level-up system. Their heart was in the right place, but if someone doesn’t finish a stage, they earn no XP and thus no upgrades. The system also discourages switching characters between levels because the stats are linked to the characters and not the players, which in essence blocks players from freshening up the experience. I know Sasha and I wanted to change rangers BUT we didn’t want to reset our stats, locking us into the Pink and Red Rangers for the full length of the quest. So an element that in theory should keep the game fresh and engaging instead does the complete opposite. Again, great in theory, but not so great when you factor in the ramifications of it.

There are a few cute touches, like if you smack a swing hard enough, it’ll go around the top bar. Cool.

But the brawling is still the main attraction, warts and all, and sometimes it does rise above average. There’s plenty of health refills and just enough moves to change things up. Decent boss battles with plenty of platforming-like timing attacks. The final boss, Robo Rita, incorporates the classic “knock the enemy’s energy blast back at them” trope, which I’ve never seen done in a brawler before but it worked wonderfully. In general, the brawling is never bad, but it never wowed me, either (outside of the Robo Rita fight. A very well done final boss). On the other hand, there’s tons of hidden stuff to find. Stuff that’s more well hidden than in Shredder’s Revenge. In that game, only once did we have to replay a stage to find something we missed. In this game, we never found everything, so they must have actually put effort into it. If you have a better time than I did, that should add to the replay value.

I really did enjoy most aspects of the brawling bosses, which often lean heavily into forcing players into timing-based jumping sequences to avoid their hits. Like here, Turkey Jerk spins around with this laser and it’s like the Sweeper event from Wipeout. I do think some of the attack sequences went too long or had too many invincibility frames but, meh, the brawling bosses are fine. They just never “do it” for me the same way TMNT does.

If they had just left it at the brawling, I could end the review here and call Rita’s Rewind a YES! and maybe, possibly, the best Power Rangers game ever. But the game does a lot more than brawling. There’s multiple other gameplay styles in Rita’s Rewind, and not as mini-games. Oh no. We’re talking either full levels or extended sequences within levels. The best of them is probably a section on a roller coaster fashioned like a shooting gallery. You move crosshairs to blast puddies out of the sky and ultimately fight a version of Eyeguy on the ride. Even though it lasts longer than I expected, it’s fun. The one kid who stuck with me for the full length of the game, Sasha the Kid, also enjoyed it the most of any of the non-brawling stuff. It controls great and there’s no sponge to the enemies. The roller coaster setting worked. This was arguably the highlight of the game.

Everything else is kind of a (day of the) dumpster fire. The Zords sequences had me so pumped the first time they started-up, a feeling that intensified when I felt how good they controlled. It’s basically Star Fox 64, only with Power Ranger zords. The excitement didn’t last very far into the first stage, though. These three levels are just not exciting at all and go twice the length or longer than they should. That’s not to mention that the Star Fox 64 comparison only applies if you’re using the Pink Ranger and flying the Pterodactyl Zord, which is, more or less, a stripped-down Star Fox Arwing. Since she flies, it makes for a much more fun, combat-focused experience where you don’t have to worry about, you know, dying instantly. If you’re curious how the other zords work, well, you have to jump like an endless running platformer mixed with Star Fox 64. This is pretty important, because the level design incorporates the occasional gap or narrow bridge you have to cross, and if you use any other character but Kimberly, you run the risk of falling into the pit. In the Zord stages, falling into a pit doesn’t just take off a tick of health and reset you. You lose a life.

The Zord levels have their moments, but those are few and far between.

Between this and losing your bomb meter from pits in the brawling stages, most of the kids said “peace out” and refused to continue even when we reached the Megazord sequence (more on that later). I did convince them to come back for the next brawler level, which was followed by a motorcycle level that’s sort of like Road Rash with Power Rangers. It seemed fun at first, until even more instakill traps that come on faster and are harder to spot arrived. The kids’ lives drained out and it was at that point they were done for good. And I mean for good, as they didn’t even want to hop on and off for the brawling levels because they were furious about the penalty for the pits. Sasha and I started over with me as the Pink Ranger and her as the Red Ranger and we did finish the game, and it was just barely okay as a two player experience from start to finish. “Are you giving it a YES!?” she asked, and I honestly didn’t know until I went back to playing single player to gather media for this review. I was thinking of giving it a split decision.

I didn’t discover until I switched over to a different save file that Sasha and I, by beating the game, unlocked a bunch of bonus options that include, among other things, eliminating the time disruptions that *I* thought was the game’s most clever twist but the children HATED. Perhaps the most important unlock is “Equal Rangers” which eliminates the poorly thought-out level-up system that really doesn’t mix well with levels that can end with one player dying via pits, meaning they don’t earn XP to upgrade their stats. I made one final pitch to bring the children back to the game with these options and they declined, saying “let us know when you’re ready to play Marvel Cosmic Invasion.”

Playing Power Rangers solo was a total f*cking slog that made it feel like I was watching my own green candle burn out. The game is too optimized for multiplayer, yet the Zord levels really, really don’t lend themselves to multiplayer either. One person will have the desirable Star Fox-like Zord, and everyone else has to deal with jumping on stages where jumping ain’t fun. There were only two aspects of the game that worked better while playing solo. In my opinion, the two motorcycle levels were much, MUCH stronger playing them alone. Far less chaotic, which made it easier to keep track of the barriers that are instakills. Hell, I’d even say they were the best stages in the entire solo game, like those levels were meant to only be single player all-along. The other strong design is the first-person Punch-Out!!-like Megazord sequences. Those really are just like Punch-Out!!, only from first person and with the ability to move forward and backward.

Telero-Megazord.

“How does it work in multiplayer?” You take turns. None of the kids liked that format at all, but I’m really not sure what else they could have done. When I played with Sasha the Kid, rather than alternate so we’d both be half-invested in the action, I just let her take both controllers and do the Megazord stuff herself. The format causes several extended breaks in the action and screws up the tempo because there has to be a pause to switch players. Then, after you fill up all four Power Sword meters, you have to button mash to charge up the energy of the power sword, though this seems to be a “for funsies” thing that doesn’t make or break you if you fail to score the killing blow. The stage ended either way and we still got an “S” ranking one time when we failed to destroy the boss. Let it be said we both kind of liked the Megazord stuff, especially the third and final one, which I won’t spoil for you but you can probably guess what it is. Here’s a hint: do…do-do…do-do-do.

The settings for the Zord sequences are pretty dull. I wish there had been one running through the city.

This was so tough to come up with the verdict for because it was either going to just barely be a YES! or just barely be a NO! After careful consideration, I’m going with the NO! I didn’t have more fun than not with Rita’s Rewind. Its lows are easily lower than the highest highs, but it was the mostly valueless single player side of the equation that was the deciding factor. Rita’s Rewind is one of those Jack of All Trades games that has strong aspects but, unlike Megazord, it just never comes together. Every aspect that works is rendered a little less potent by all dull sections, and NONE of the gameplay types, even the shooting gallery stuff that we enjoyed, mixes well with any other gameplay element.

Ugh, I mean look at that. It LOOKS boring doesn’t it?!

The Zord levels needed their length cut by at least half, and even then, they lack the interesting settings. They’re even more boring in single player. Like in the first Zord level, it feels like it takes FOREVER to drain Goldar’s health, turning the first Zord encounter into a chore. There’s other things that held me back. In the brawling sections, the rangers never feel distinct enough, something that could have been fixed with some unmorphed sequences. If you use the power weapons, I never noticed it, or figured out how to. There’s no Dragonzord in Fighting Mode with his sick ass drill sword. There’s no Ultrazord. There’s no Power Blaster. In the zord mode, the items wear off too quickly and having one character who flies and four who don’t feels like a good way to start fights among friends. The biggest problem of all is you need multiple people for maximum enjoyment, yet the Zord levels and the motorcycle levels are noticeably less fun because of how visually loud the explosions are. We ALL struggled to keep track of where we were in the Zord levels, even me and I was flying. Yet, YOU NEED EXPLOSIONS or it ain’t Power Rangers.

You remember how the Juice Bar had arcade machines? Yeah, you can play those. They include a combative racing game, a game I will talk about after the verdict, and this knock-off of Time Pilot (which I reviewed in Konami SHMUPs: The Definitive Review) that I didn’t really like at all. Two of the three games were really dull and one led to the absolute stupidest hour of my entire life.

I think there’s a problem inherent to Power Rangers as a franchise that prevents it from being a great video game. It’s not the cheese or being a children’s show. It’s all the crap you have to include to make it feel like a Rangers game. To Digital Eclipse’s infinite credit, they did try to fit it all in here, but Star Fox 64-like gameplay is not compatible with a brawler. Not even in a wacky juxtaposition type of way, especially if you have a multiplayer focus because some players will inevitably prefer one style of game over another, and possibly dislike another style so much they no longer want to play. That’s what happened at my house. A developer’s only other option is to, in theory, optimize to one specific aspect of the show for a game, except it’s been tried before, and it doesn’t work either.

The Zord sequences where you have to blow up these bases didn’t go over well with anyone.

There was a Power Rangers Dino Thunder Gamecube game that was pretty mediocre that was just the Zords. It was boring. The SNES disaster Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: The Movie: The Game: The Ride: The Broadway Musical was just the Rangers with no Zord gameplay at all and it was heartbreaking to the point that any lingering goodwill the game might have earned from previous highlights was totally erased. Famicom’s Zyuranger didn’t have Megazord stuff either. You kind of NEED the Megazord stuff, or it won’t feel like Power Rangers. But you also need the weapons and you need the rubber suit monsters and you probably even need the teenagers with attitude unmorphed for that sense of empowerment. They’re kids turning into superheroes, but if you don’t actually get to proactively make that change, it’s not really like the show then, is it? Hell, even Digital Eclipse skipped that part. There’s no unmorphed action at all in Rita’s Rewind. Even if it had just been at the start of first level, just for contrast’s sake, it would have been preferred to having no unmorphed action at all. So, I don’t think Rita’s Rewind is more fun than not. It’s a slightly better than average brawler with multiplayer, but it’s not JUST a brawling game. Add up all the ways this does work and subtract all the ways it doesn’t and you end up with more boredom than fun. Maybe that’s because Power Rangers just doesn’t lend itself to gaming.
Verdict: NO!

And by the way, the most fun I had with this set was one of the three arcade games in the Juice Bar, Karate Chopshop. You have to karate chop a variety of objects by using up as little of a meter as possible. Digital Eclipse could probably make some decent scratch by releasing this as a stand alone mobile game. It’s pretty addictive. It was the most fun I had with Power Rangers, even more than the peaks of the brawling sections. I couldn’t put it down. But, come on, it’s not worth close to $34.99 or even 80% off that by itself.

Bring it on.

Once Upon a Katamari (Review)

Once Upon a Katamari
Available on All Major Platforms
Played on an Xbox Series X
Released October 24, 2025
Developed by RENGAME
Published by Bandai Namco Entertainment
$39.99 smacked into a wall in the making of this review.
This Review was played ONLY on an Xbox Series X.

IMPORTANT: As I was finishing this review, it was announced that UPDATES AND DLC ARE COMING, but unless they add more original, fresh level concepts, it won’t flip my verdict. The DLC is just more music and accessories. Nope, that won’t be enough. But, I try to be fair so I will play post-patchwork and write an update in the near future. This is why you stopped reviewing new games, Cathy, ya dummy.

SPOILER WARNING
THIS REVIEW DISCUSSES LEVEL THEMES,
THE END GAME, AND SPOILS THE PLOT
SHORT SUMMARY: AN UNSATISFYING REHASH
MY VERDICT IS A FIRM NO!

Party like it’s 2005! Let’s all wear Ugg boots and gossip about Paris Hilton! In fairness, this is one of two new concepts I really enjoyed. The innovation? Wind. The theme? Tumbleweeds. That’s not a bad idea. There’s a lot of “not a bad idea” ideas in Once Upon a Katamari. I can’t believe I didn’t like this more.

“I hope the next Katamari isn’t a REROLL, but a completely modern Katamari that feels modern. I say that because I can’t say I’ve played a game that maximizes the Katamari concept’s potential. I don’t think it exists yet.“

That’s what I said in my review for We ♥ Katamari: REROLL. Cue the sad trombone noise, because THAT game still doesn’t exist. Once Upon A Katamari, the first brand new Katamari game on a console since 2009, still looks and feels like a game from twenty years ago. It’s not like Katamari Damacy ever felt cutting edge to begin with (even if it actually was), but it could get away with it because it was such a novel concept of a game. Now it’s 2025, and Katamari as a gameplay mechanic is established and even part of pop culture. So my demoralizing disappointment in Once Upon a Katamari mostly confirmed my suspicion that I would not be nostalgic for the way games looked in the PS1/PS2 era. But it’s not just the outdated graphics that deflated my experience. I was enjoying the new game when I first started playing it. The idea that I would be writing such a largely negative review never entered my mind, but as the game went along, I realized I wasn’t having as much fun as I thought I would be. Finally I had to admit that this is too much of a rehash and I’m kind of over the same old thing.

I did plow through to get 100% of the achievements. The final unlock was a second stage based around rolling up the cousins, and ONLY the cousins. Those were both two of the most boring Katamari stages I’ve played. You can also see my create-a-cousin at the bottom. That was the best I could do at making a cousin who looks like Sweetie, my mascot.

Now, I really, really love the core gameplay of the Katamari Damacy franchise. I was VERY excited when Once Upon was announced. I want you to keep that in mind because I didn’t expect to be as unhappy with Once Upon a Katamari as I am. I’m so frustrated that, rather than rebooting the franchise with a much-needed graphics overhaul and a greater emphasis on high-score chasing and speed running, they just made a glorified level pack. One that, frankly, doesn’t care all that much about scores or times and is still as self-congratulatory about its characters as every other game in the series after the first one. What used to be a charming and addictive experience is now shackled by a publisher and developers that dig their heels in and refuse to evolve Katamari past its original style.

Never change. Seriously, never change and continue to be a B-list game with middling sales. I feel like an idiot for caring. Here’s a thought: for those fans who buy these games because they think the obnoxious characters are the bees’ knees, make them optional. Let players who only care about high scores and fast times toggle-off the pop-up dialog.

The time travel theme had me hyped, and while it proves that it can work at times to freshen up the concept in a “whole new settings” kind of way, the gameplay is firmly stuck in 2004-2009. The different eras rarely feel utilized to their fullest effect, with levels that often don’t play up to their strengths and instead just recycle the same old gimmicks. Rolling up dinosaurs? Sign me up! Using that setting for the dull-as-hell “collect only 50 objects” level? Not so much. Besides, after over two decades, the camera and the physics just are not getting better, which is going to override any sense of newness the time travel theme could have added. The action is constantly being obscured by walls, with many stages being worse about that than others. Too many indoor settings are based around closed-in spaces, which doesn’t really work in a game where you continually grow in size and are incentivized to grab everything in sight, including stuff stashed against walls.

Even when the ball is small and you’re inside areas that are hypothetically vast and open, it doesn’t matter because things will inevitably block the camera, and that’s not even counting all the pop-up texts that happen dead center in the middle of the playfield. If you don’t think cameras have come far in games, try playing Super Mario 64 and Mario Odyssey back to back. Camera development in 3D games has come a long way since 2004, and that’s why Once Upon a Katamari’s style of throwback is obnoxious instead of nostalgic.

Like, hey, there’s a level set in ancient Egypt where you have to roll up mummies? That sounds awesome! Crying shame about how they closed in the walls so tight that you’re constantly unable to see what you’re doing. Characters and moving objects are still set along tracks and have no complicated behavior and look as blocky and ugly as they last did in 2009, and all those problems ultimately work against the satisfaction of rolling mummies up. It’s weird that they didn’t comprehend that things that weren’t big problems from 2004 to 2009 are going to be big problems in 2025 because gaming has come so far.

Even the “roll-up the planets you made/meteors you earned/stardust” is back and basically the same as before. I’d say they pulled a Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens but even that at least felt like a rehash that utilized modern technology.

There is no better feature a sequel can have than embracing innovation. We’ve already experienced Katamari with all these problems. You know what we haven’t experienced? Katamari WITHOUT these problems. That’s what they should’ve done to freshen up the gameplay. They could have recycled the same old gimmicks until the cowbears come home and it still would have felt new and modern if they had fixed all the problems that have been part of this franchise from the start. Give us the smoothest, most intuitive and hang-up-free Katamari of all-time. They didn’t. Don’t get me wrong: new levels and themes are great, but if all the bad parts come along for the ride and some of the levels are so similar to old ones that they feel more like remixes than outright new stages, well, then it’s just an expensive level pack, isn’t it?

And the objectives mostly are direct rehashes (like Cowbear) or variants of old ones (instead of a sumo wrestler, it’s now a Samurai). Very few feel genuinely original.

I don’t know if the problems are genuinely worse than ever, or if it only seems like it. A good example of what I mean is the act of climbing. Climbing has always been hit or miss in Katamari. You won’t know until you reach the top of what you’re climbing if you’re going to be knocked-back off by an invisible wall or a tiny bump in your Katamari ball. This has been a part of the franchise since the beginning and it seems to be even worse now. I was constantly banging and recoiling off the top of all walls great and small, including ones I should have been big enough to climb. In the old west level, one of the crowns is hidden on a roof. I needed to replay the stage three times because I would bang off the top of the ladder and get knocked back down. Since the knock-back when you bang can be brutal, sorry but after twenty years, they needed to fix it. Even WHEN you need to climb feels inelegant or outright wrong. Topography that by all rights should be small hills, bumps, lips, or ramps aren’t, even late in the game. Like this:

You can see the 12M checkpoint barrier a little in front of me. You’ll also note I’m close to 2M bigger than the checkpoint AND EVEN THEN I have to slow-climb up this tiny little bump in the terrain that outright failed to activate more than once. It’s terrible level design.

What you’re seeing in that picture should be a bump or a slope, but it’s a wall that requires you to press up against the surface and slowly push up it. I mean, if you’re lucky. Sometimes the climbing mechanic just straight-up doesn’t activate. This is one of those situations where I thought maybe my controller was broken (I did end up wearing out an analog stick playing this game, but that controller was old). I had tons of moments where I attempted to climb a small hill or a ladder and the damn ball just idled without moving at all despite the fact that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. I could excuse crap like that for twenty year old versions of this game, when the idea and gameplay was still new. Katamari ain’t new anymore. How could they not fix anything after twenty-one years? Arguably the only improvements are the draw distance is well done, at least on Xbox, and there’s now a single button you can press to dash. However, if you dash too many times in a row you lose it for a stretch.

I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that in 2025 it should be possible to have action not be obscured like this.

I also don’t remember getting jammed as much in any Katamari game. It’s not just because of the items, the magnet and the rocket, either. The magnet has a similar effect to the King Shock from Katamari Forever, and it can absolutely trap you in areas, especially if you grow big enough to no longer be able to squeeze past any exits. It happened a few times, because the magnet has range and is able to pull things past gaps the ball already can’t fit past. While it’s still very fun to use and adds a lot of post-game high score chasing, it also is capable of ruining your run and has an undeniable inelegance to it. But again, at least that backfire effect feels kind of like a video game type of hazard. Getting stuck between two objects though? Not so much, but it happens enough to be notable. In Once Upon a Katamari, I got stuck in ways that I literally couldn’t believe I couldn’t wiggle out of, like this:

Yeah, I’m really stuck there on basically nothing, and remained stuck long after that clip ended. I have no clue how I did it. Oh sure, the one time it feels like my Katamari doesn’t bang off something I can’t roll up and I become ensnared by it. Maybe it’s just a product of poorly thought-out layouts. While wrapping up this review, I realized only two stages made me sit-up in my chair. In the biggest Katamari game ever. There’s like fifty stages, give or take, and two really stood out. Two. And I had a week to think about that, too. Sigh. The best parts of Once Upon a Katamari are undeniably addictive in that “just one more game” kind of way, but they’re also unmemorable. The best levels are, you know, fine. The magnet is fun and probably the highlight of the game because it added the most value to the experience. There’s also a time-freezing stopwatch that, yes, also stops the timer and adds some much needed strategic flexibility. Though I’m not entirely convinced that the locations of the items were precisely chosen to maximize player options and decision making, the game is better off for having them. The other two items are nowhere near as fun. The rocket just led to a whole lot of banging into things and the radar lasts too long.

Here’s a tip for those who actually give a squirt about your scores: any item you haven’t used when you finish a level will carry over to the next stage you play, no matter which stage it is. After I finished all the levels and found all the hidden crowns/cousins/presents, I would play Make It Bigger 1 and bank a magnet, then go play the level I’m score chasing. Additionally, if you reset the stage or finish it and choose to replay it instead of banking the final result, you’ll get the item back! You can replay it as many times as you need with that starting item.

Also, while the radar item remains valuable in levels where you’re searching for specific items (like “Tag You’re It” Cousins-search levels or Pharaoh’s Request), for other levels, it’s rendered useless once you’ve found the present, crowns, and cousins. The game could have rewarded players for 100%ing those stages by replacing the now useless radar with another magnet or rocket, or hell, player’s choice! That’d be cool! But nope, the radar remains and since it takes a while to wear off and you’re capped at one item at a time, it becomes another thing you actively want to avoid. It’s just another sign of how little thought was given to the big picture of the player’s experience. Hell, the level layouts feel like that in general. They might as well just make the stages randomly generated for how inelegant the object placement is. And while I’m whining about items, the camera pulls away when you grow enough to reach a checkpoint to show the physical location of it, and it doesn’t instantly teleport back to you. It moves through the playfield while the timer is going and the game is live. It only takes a split second, but if an item is active, you might lose some of the time you get with it.

I thought all the “find all the specific things” stages were middling at best. In Ancient Rome, you have to locate eight philosophers. If their locations were randomly generated, I might have liked these more. But they’re not, and there’s also no online leaderboards. Once I got an S ranking for this stage and all the items out of it, there really was no point in coming back to it since it just isn’t very fun after the first time. The layout is later recycled for “collect roses” which is much more enjoyable.

Everything about Once Upon a Katamari reminds me that Namco is the same company that didn’t understand why Pac-Man was a hit and bet on the wrong aspects of it for the first couple sequels. The gameplay and the high score/fastest time chasing are why Katamari is a viable release for Namco in 2025, and they didn’t even know that. You can’t see what your high scores/best times are or even what your rankings on levels are from the quick travel menu. That really solidifies my theory that neither the developer nor the publisher understood what keeps players coming back to Katamari. I mean, to not even have the rankings listed? To have no quick access list of what levels you’ve S-tiered or gotten the three benchmark coins from? Here’s what the quick travel menus look like:

You have to manually go to the level, and not just the level, but then you have to click the level and do a “skip dialog thing” to load the “confirm you want to play this level” pop-up and THAT’S what lists your scores. You can also go view “the cosmos” but that’s several steps as well. What the hell? There’s also nothing that lists which levels you’ve earned meteors on, or if you even can earn a meteor at all on a level. I *love* getting those meteors. It always feels like an accomplishment. That they’re not even listed in the cosmos screen, a “bonus feature” in the hub world’s “S.S. Prince” spaceship is just mind blowing. There’s no leaderboards at all, local or online so you can only see your absolute #1 biggest size or fastest time, assuming you didn’t trade a best time for a lower score for whatever reason (you can do that). Hey Namco, you might not realize this, but you have the perfect old school arcade scoring game here. Twenty years later and you still don’t see that?

I earned multiple meteors on some stages. Before I got down to 16 seconds, I got meteors with different names (I think) for slower times. So, like do they ALL count? Only the best one? I’d like to see a list of which ones I got, but Namco and RENGAME seem to believe nobody cares and people are just here for the soundtrack (and I thought this was the weakest soundtrack of any of the console games, easily) and the self-congratulatory story.

Once Upon a Katamari is the least concerned with your best and worst times of any game in the franchise so far. There’s not even an achievement for getting all S-rankings either, which, hey, I guess that means you don’t have to stress doing good on stages that aren’t fun, which is like half the stages anyway. The one thing they did add is three tiers of object-collecting benchmarks for most stages that earns you coins that you can spend to get new facial expressions or gestures for the create-a-cousin feature. The currency system is fine but benchmarks are just dumb and you can only earn the lowest available in each run, plus it only starts after you beat a level for the first time. I would have preferred hiding the coins in the stage. Oh and, once again, you can’t check and see what levels you have or haven’t got the coins from using the quick travel menu. It gets worse. The big climatic stage where you roll up the universe and all the stars? That has no recorded score attached to it at all. I’m not kidding! Oh, there’s a score. Look, it shows it and everything!

Look, a score! There it is, in the corner!

But it doesn’t record that score. It just lists the level. Who cares? It’s only the climax of the f*cking game, with a level populated by objects YOU created. Why would you want to keep track of how well you’ve done with that? Pssh, what are you, some nerd who actually cares about scores? AND IT GETS EVEN WORSE! Three eternal stages are included, like in past Katamari games. In older games, while they were “just for funsies” levels, they still kept track of your high scores. Once Upon a Katamari’s eternal stages don’t. Again, they tell you a score, but they don’t record it. Not only that, but I’m pretty sure that you can’t complete the object catalog using eternal levels. I mean, unless I rolled up everything in Eternal 3 and somehow didn’t get a single new object for the catalog. So the eternal modes serve no purpose at all except to create stardust that will be inserted into a level that also doesn’t keep track of high scores. WHY EVEN INCLUDE THEM THEN?

They really leaned heavily into the action-blocking dialog in this one.

The poor menus, lack of caring about the actual scores, and baffling DLC model that’s focused almost entirely on music instead of gameplay makes me think that Namco and RENGAME are operating under the mistaken belief that people play Katamari for anything but the gameplay. That the real appeal is limited only to the famous soundtracks or the “humorous” and/or “quirky” King of All Cosmos. The music of this Katamari is the least catchy in the series so far. Not a single earworm. Nothing like, say, Katamari on the Swing from We Love. As for the King? Holy f*ck. Okay, maybe he was cute and funny in the first game, but he’s since become the single worst character in the history of video games. He just ruins everything. His bullsh*t isn’t funny. It’s just obnoxious. It’s 2025 and the King of All Cosmos still has dialog blocking the screen. If you don’t move your hands from the dual stick tank controls (in a game where you usually don’t want to stop moving, mind you) to skip the dialog that blocks the screen during live gameplay, it might linger on the screen for quite a while. Here’s me beating As Fast As You Can 2 in sixteen seconds.

See how much of that sixteen seconds had text blocking the screen? It begs the question, ahem, WHAT THE ACTUAL F*CK IS WRONG WITH YOU DEVELOPERS? Did you not get attention as children? This is about as charming as a clown honking a horn, spritzing water, and pieing people in the face at a mass casualty funeral for stillborn puppies! People have been complaining about this since 2004 and they just keep doubling down on it like it’s the thing that got the game to 2025 and not, you know, the ball and the rolling stuff up part! Like every other Katamari game, the same dialog repeats every single level. Whether you’re rolling up cousins or ninjas or bowling pins, you will see the same dialog block the screen every single goddamned replay, and this in a game that heavily encourages replaying levels. The only exception are the presents since, once you have found them, they don’t return in each replay. 

And in this game, it’s not just the King of All Cosmos that blocks the action. For whatever reason, they placed the “your Katamari is as big as…..” boxes in the center of the screen even though there’s plenty of non-action-blocking room at the bottom of the screen. What the actual f*ck? What….. the actual…… f*ck?!

Speaking of doubling down, levels that completely go against the frantic nature of Katamari are still here and horrible as ever. Cowbear, the level that ends the very first time you roll up a cow or bear because ain’t that quirky is back. Just like previous games, the developer’s definition of what constitutes a cow or a bear is trollishly open to interpretation. Run over a single carton of milk that you couldn’t see because the camera is still one of the worst of any 3D action game? The level is over because a carton of milk counts as a cow, even though there isn’t a cow on the package. Well that’s just ridiculous. Saying a carton of milk counts as a cow is like saying a yeast infection is a baby. What’s really infuriating is that the king states the rules require you to catch a cow or a bear. Um, milk isn’t a creature. You don’t “catch” it, nor is it caught in the “catch!” sense. They’re sitting on the ground. YEAH, I’M BEING THAT PETTY! This gimmick f*cking sucks and they keep bringing it back! Petty disappointment is all I’ve ever gotten out of it.

How does touching a piece of cardboard with a picture of a cow or bear on it constitute catching a cow or bear?

Either way, the fast-paced, intense Katamari gameplay is dropped and you’re forced to inch your way through the level while trying to avoid signs that have pictures of cows or tiny little bear wind-up toys, because those count. It wasn’t fun the first time in 2005, and twenty years later it’s still a slog. The best thing I can say about it: at least the level layout isn’t as bad as it was in We Love Katamari or Katamari Forever. BUT, it’s still a pretty boring layout and it’s just not fun. It was never fun, and I don’t get how anyone could enjoy it. It feels like a completely different game. Other returning stinkers include several “only pick up 50” levels. Again, you have to heel-toe your way through the levels despite spotty physics and a terrible camera, trying desperately to avoid the tiny things. I don’t like them, but I could have tolerated having one in the game. There’s (checks notes) more than one, so now I hate the whole concept of 50-only because too many of them replace the type of levels I want to play, which were really just “as big as you can” or “as fast as you can” levels.

It looks like a Koosh Ball but actually it’s just one of the laziest levels in the history of Katamari, where the object is to roll-up icicles. It’s also one of the smallest levels ever in a Katamari game. This was so uninspired that I was genuinely embarrassed for the developers after playing it. It was kind of sad, really.

Sadly, it’s not the only “high concept” stinker. New to this game (I think, at least, my brain seems to have deleted all the handheld games from memory) is a level where you have to roll up sweet, sugary food objects and avoid non-sweet foods. Instead of just trying to create a large ball, you’re trying to maximize the sweetness of the ball to 100%. The setting is a vast open air market and food court, and things like plates don’t count towards the objective.

The drinks? They’re like milkshakes or something. Those are what you want. The things with the caps? That’s mayonnaise. Not sweet, and they come with a hefty penalty. Okay, now go have fun with this totally well thought-out level!

That doesn’t sound like a terrible idea at all, but such a specific concept requires beefing-up the graphics, play control, and camera so that it’s easier to tell things apart and you’re not constantly getting screwed by a camera. Oh and maybe ditch the King of All Cosmos for levels like this since this requires closely paying attention to what’s in front of you instead of just rolling up everything tinier than you. And this is why doubling down on boxy retro graphics, the same 2004 “enemy” behavior patterns, and the screen-blocking text of the King of All Cosmos crosses the line from a bad idea to outright self-sabotage.

In America, ketchup is legally a vegetable.

What could have been a highlight in a modern game is a terrible level when you’re a glorified expansion of a 2000s game. Telling sweet things apart from non-sweet things isn’t intuitive. You have to replay the level and brute force memorize a good portion of the items to know what column they count in. Telling a pepper apart from an apple would be easier if you used that space age technology to actually look good. Not only that, but the scoring system sucks, because most of the sweet things only cause an incremental bump in the sweetness of the ball (with exceptions, like the shaved ice), but the wrong foods come with a harsh penalty. So while building the sweetness is slow, losing it happens too quickly. You know, I wish I could play this layout without the gimmick. It would have been one of the more fun layouts.

Yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to play it multiple times and get a feel for what’s sweet and what isn’t, but nuts to that. The “tofu” looks like a dessert to me. Also, would this be a good time to point out there’s tons of sweet variants of tofu. I once had a tofu custard that was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever had, then I forgot the specific name. I think it was Douhua. Try it if you ever see it on a menu! It’s fantastic! It also kind of proves that this whole “sweet/not-sweet” formula needed to be completely unambiguous. How about adding stink lines to the wrong stuff? Oh wait, that would probably somehow ruin the retro look.

Not every new concept is a dud, though most of the “new” gimmick stages are just reworked versions of old stages. Remember the snowman level? They took the same basic “cover as much of the ground as possible” concept and made it worthwhile by theming a stage around rolling a water ball around a desert. The hook is that you have to continuously dunk the ball in water sources to keep it moist. While it diverges from the core Katamari gameplay and that normally annoys me, it’s fine as a one-off side quest. The racing stage that I loved before returns, only this time it’s a boat race, and it’s just as fun and just as easy. Come to think of it, the whole game is crazy easy. I only failed on one level in my entire week-long play session, and it’s another returning stage: the fireball that you have to build up to light a central end-goal fire, which might be the single worst-designed layout in any Katamari game, and given how lazy that Koosh Ball level is, that’s saying something.

The only bright spot is I’m pretty sure the fire can’t just spontaneously go out. But I died multiple times on this stage from running into water. I never once lost on any other stage and usually got the S ranking within three attempts.

The “light the fire” stage takes place in Roman times and has a coliseum setting. But, they fashioned the layout like a maze, and I don’t mean like a Pac-Man style maze, but an actual “how do I get out of this thing?” maze, only while using the people in the audience as the walls. You have to build up the ball as big as you can and find your way to the center to light a fire. I’m almost certain you won’t ever be able to get big enough to roll people up and the object is to wiggle around the maze. It’s a really boring idea because there’s no room for spontaneity or to really even create your own strategy. It’s too narrow and too railed. It’s a f*cking maze, and Katamari is at its best when you’re in a big, open area where all the corridors are wide. The type of stages that are so vast that it’s overwhelming at first and you have to discover the best path to grow the ball. Also, the thing about mazes is they don’t usually offer replay value once you know the solution. This one is no different. Once you know the routes, the thing that made the stage “special” is over, but unlike other stages, the act of collecting isn’t fun. The pathways are too compact.

In this level you have to not only make the ball bigger, but you need to score X amount of beverages. Other stages have you grab coins or wooden objects and you can still fail if you don’t get the minimum, regardless of the ball size. This isn’t a horrible idea to evolve the gameplay. I still never lost from it, but there were a few close calls. Like “one over the number I needed at the last second” close. It was exciting, and that’s when the game works. They didn’t do that enough to justify $40 or even $20 in my opinion. If I had paid $15 for this, I don’t think I’d be as disappointed. Frustrated and angry? Sure. But not disappointed.

The things that would make up for what the game doesn’t do aren’t here. Again, no online leaderboards. No local leaderboards. The “take a picture of the Namco characters” thing from We Love Katamari REROLL that completely hooked me is gone. Each stage has three hidden crowns but they’re stupid easy to find. The cousins are too, while the presents offer a bit more of a challenge sometimes. For one, I had to look up the location, and it’s because it’s buried in an arbitrary spot on the snow level and only occasionally pops out like a prairie dog. We Love Katamari REROLL and 2009’s Katamari Forever’s hidden trinkets were so satisfying to find. The crowns aren’t, and I know they could have done a lot more. Like, why not hide record albums that unlock the legacy soundtrack? That would have kept everyone, including myself, playing after the credits rolled. Well, there is a legacy soundtrack, but sold separately as a fairly expensive DLC set that doesn’t even add new levels. Right before I published this, updates with new DLC were announced, but they don’t add new levels or new hidden items.

The coin stage is an example of a potentially fun level that keeps tripping over its own feet.

Let me be clear: Once Upon a Katamari isn’t some kind of face-palming disaster. If you’re incapable of getting bored playing this series, this is the biggest game in the franchise yet. There’s tons of levels and all the hamfisted quirkiness that’s been so awkward and exhausting since the second game was a love letter to itself is still here. If you just want a time travel-themed expansion pack of We Love Katamari or Katamari Forever, that’s basically what this is. And actually, I still think you’ll be disappointed. The main “As Big As You Can” or “As Fast As You Can” levels are limited to one setting, Japan, where it scales five times over the course of the game. Other themes might have “As Big As You Can” levels, but they usually don’t scale, and certainly don’t five times. Among the gimmick levels, I’m pretty sure only the returning “feed someone to make them fat but really it’s just an oblong starting ball” has three distinct tiers that open new areas. It really makes it clear that the theme is mostly skin deep, because the primary “as big as you can” or “as fast as you can” levels are so similar that I couldn’t really tell a difference between the new one from Once Upon and the old ones from past games. The big climax is rolling up the King, Queen, and the King’s father. It’s been done.

For what it’s worth, I did enjoy these levels, even if they have frequent camera issues because this time around, the settings are mostly indoors and involve going up and down flights of stairs. The “feed someone” theme is also kind of messed up when you think about it. Like, imagine if, instead of a sumo wrestler or a samurai warrior, it was a goose and the object was to force feed it to create foie gras. It would be the single most controversial game of the decade. But it’s a human and they’re asking for it so it’s okay. I mean, unless you intend the human to be foie gras, because that’s just delicious wrong. I meant wrong! Really!

Even the plot of the King of All Cosmos accidentally blowing up the Earth is here. “OMG he did it juggling a relic and being a show off! LOL, right?” Yea, I guess? I mean, that’s almost the exact same joke as the first game, ain’t it? I don’t get it. To me Katamari Damacy as a series is no different than one of those stand-up comedians who has used the same fifteen minute set for their entire careers. When your job is to literally make jokes, why are you telling the same jokes after twenty years? It gets old. And the joke of the Katamari games really isn’t funny when the characters and their “quirks” cost the actual gameplay so dearly.

A stage in the “present day” time era is basically “roll up all the food stuff, then roll yourself into a deep fryer.” This was the best level in the game, and the most fresh-feeling. What made it stand out is that it’s almost laid out like a platform game, with timing-based moving platforms and a heavy emphasis on very narrow pathways and pits that reset you beneath you. There’s never been anything quite like it from this franchise, and it feels fresh, and they decorated it in a way that’s memorably bonkers without feeling like they’re trying too hard.

Why does Katamari Damacy as a gameplay mechanic even need a plot? The Mario Kart games don’t have a plot. They didn’t come up with a reason for all the Mario universe characters to race. They just do it, and Katamari could be that way. Why not? You don’t have to drop the characters. Just drop the bullsh*t around the characters. Let the players play the game. Focus on high scores and fast times. That’s the fun, not the plot, and if after twenty years they don’t get that, they’ve lost the plot. Hell, they might as well have done this as DLC for We Love Katamari REROLL because, mechanically, the differences are so subtle that nothing really stood out to me, and I played the sh*t out of both. You’re also not appealing to anyone new to the franchise. This is made only for the fans, and that’s no way to grow a brand.

This release makes no sense at all. I was hyped for this, maybe too much. A big reason why this review took me forever to finish was I was genuinely stressing whether or not my disappointment was because I gave my hopes up for something better. My family didn’t help. The kids, the oldest of whom is 14, think Katamari looks fun, but not in a “drop what you’re doing and try it out” type of way. They actually thought I was weird for being so excited about Once Upon A Katamari during its introduction during the July 2025 Nintendo Direct. It’s just not a big deal to them. None of them needed to play it the way my generation did. I didn’t get a straight answer on why, either. They all agreed it looked fun, but not enough that any of them wanted to play it with me. That tells me the freshness is gone for good as long as THIS is Katamari. But, creatively dead doesn’t mean dead-dead. Katamari is still the PERFECT format for a raw, no-frills high score driven, fastest time franchise. If arcades could do games like this in 1980, Katamari’s gameplay would have been a Pac-Man level hit. Don’t be old school in body. Be old school in the soul. That’s where the good stuff comes from.
Verdict: NO!
*If you can get it for $14.99 or under, and you lower your expectations, and you have plenty of disposable income, meh, whatever, it’s fine for that. $40 for the same old game and very few bells & whistles like leaderboards or even proper menus and high score tracking is a slap in the face.

 

Donkey Kong Bananza (Nintendo Switch 2 Review)

Donkey Kong Bananza
Platform: Nintendo Switch 2
Released July 17, 2025
Directed by Wataru Tanaka and Kazuya Takahashi
Developed by Nintendo
$69.99 (normally $79.99) chopped down a mountain with the edge of my hand in the making of this review.

This is more like a whiny blog post than a normal review but I just put about two weeks into Donkey Kong Bananza and I’m not happy with the last third or so of the game. I spent two-thirds of Donkey Kong Bananza thinking it would go down as one of my favorite games ever, and it’s certainly not. Given how many total hours of euphoria Bananza gave me, I have to give it a YES! For a platformer, I don’t think a horrible final five or so hours should be capable of flipping the verdict of an amazing twenty-to-thirty hours of a rough but highly-entertaining experience. With that said, I’m really unhappy with the last several levels of Bananza, and there’s no way to explain it without spoiling it, so be warned.

THIS IS NOT A SPOILER-FREE REVIEW!
I’m awarding Bananza a YES! verdict.
That’s because there’s far more good than bad in this game.
But I also HATED the last third of Bananza, and I explain why.

And there will be spoilers!

I can’t remember being so frustrated with a game I loved before. Not even Wind Waker.

The above screenshot was a really bad sign of how things would end for Donkey Kong Bananza. In one of the worst boss designs I can remember, you have to manually travel between several past worlds just to smack main baddie “Void Kong” a few times in each world. And when I say “manually” I mean you have to chase Void Kong, smacking him and then chase him more because he runs away and his primary attack is to put crap between you and him. After you chase him and smack him enough times, a cut scene happens and he warps to a prior stage. You then have to go to the warp gong, hit it, then go to the next level the Void Kong is in. Repeat doing this until it tells you that you don’t have to anymore.

Imagine this in ANY OTHER game. Imagine you’re fighting the 5th boss in Legend of Zelda, only after getting a couple smacks on him, he teleports to the middle of the 4th dungeon, where you have to make your way to him and smack him a couple times, then he teleports to the 3rd dungeon, THEN BACK to the 5th dungeon. I don’t give a flying f*ck if you can just walk out of the dungeon and blow the warp whistle to cut down on the travel. It’s still a horrible, HORRIBLE idea, and yet it’s here and a major part of this game. I literally cannot believe anyone gave Bananza a perfect score unless you somehow teleported this game to 2001 and showed it to someone who was disappointed with GameCube’s launch lineup.

It’s a complete slog and a bore that grinds the game to a screeching halt. You have to chase him through the Junction Layer (“Layers” are levels), then chase him through the Hilltop Layer, then chase him through the Lagoon Layer, and then BACK to the Junction Layer. It’s not fun AT ALL. It’s not exciting AT ALL. It’s not satisfying to make progress AT ALL. I don’t remember a single boss fight that was transformed into unbearable busywork quite like this. It’s such an overindulgent idea that it should have been rejected out of hand when it was pitched. Yet, here it is, in the final game. Up to this point, I was head over heels for Donkey Kong Bananza. It’s the sequel to Super Mario Odyssey I’ve been waiting almost eight years for, and that’s not hyperbole. The game did recover after this sequence, but it would eventually crater for good, a solid five or so hours before the actual ending.

This should have been the best level in the game, but some REALLY broken gameplay mechanics put the screws to that. You know, this burger reminds me of something but at this time I can’t recall what.

Mario Odyssey leapfrogged the first WarioWare to become my all-time favorite video game. Okay, the fact that Odyssey and WarioWare are my two favorite games probably speaks volumes about my attention span but I don’t care. I couldn’t put Odyssey down and, as long as it didn’t involve a jump rope, I never got bored with it. I even beat it a second time last year. I found every Moon, in every stage, and all the post game stuff, TWICE. I would have totally bought Odyssey DLC if it had been offered. I was good to go for weeks or even months after I finished it, both times. And there are no words to describe how overjoyed I was that Bananza’s hunt for bananas and fossils is exactly like the moons and purple coins in Odyssey. Like, 90% like it. The fossils are based around the Terraria-like digging, but the SEARCH for them is identical. It’s a direct Super Mario Odyssey sequel in everything but the name. EVEN WITH THE NEW GAMEPLAY MECHANICS, it’s Super Mario Odyssey 2, or like amazing DLC for Odyssey that grants you a new character in Donkey Kong. The logic of the level design is the same. The amount of moons/bananas is basically the same, and the variety of ways to find them has a very similar vibe. Some are just laying around, others are bought, and some you have to go hell and back to get. Again, it’s a direct sequel with a new character. Period.

My strategy was basically to beat the stages, then systematically knock-out the bananas and fossils that I missed. As you can see, there’s a LOT of stuff all over. This is just one part of a bigger map, mind you. The main levels have multiple “layers” that each have their own challenges.

And I was in love. This felt like it justified my Switch 2 purchase by itself. No joke. I got so much value out of Bananza that I have to give it a YES! because the amount of quality gaming hours I experienced far exceeded the bad parts. And that’s why I was so frustrated by the last few levels of Bananza. The last “real” level that’s Odyssey-like is basically broken, and after that, the game just f*cking refuses to end. The fun is barely visible in the rear view mirror by that point. The last couple levels, especially, are boring settings and broken mechanics.The difficulty spikes dramatically while also slowing down because the game leans extra-heavily into knocking you off the stage. When that happens it takes away a balloon (balloons are so common that you dig them up even after you reach the max 99, which is crap) and returns you to the start of the sequence you were on. It’s a very slow mechanic because you have to fall all the way to the bottom of whatever pit you’re on, so it’s like if you were playing Castlevania and the legendary knock-back of that game took five to ten seconds to recover and start moving again. Maybe even longer.

This is near the start of the second-to-last level. There’s two levels in a row that are fake-out last levels before you get the proper final part of the game. You can punch through that concrete with the Gorilla Bananza but it’s slow. Everything about the last three or so hours of Bananza is slow.

I’m fine with the recovery time punishment when it’s my fault. If I’m walking around, trashing a level and I screw up and fall off the side of a wall or tunnel through a mountain into oblivion, fine. A long recovery time is a good incentive to not do that again. But I object to the enemy design deliberately going for the knock-back, because now you’re in the action part of the game and not the exploration part. Okay, it’s technically accurate that allowing an enemy to hit me is also my fault, but apples and oranges, because having such a long recovery time in the thick of battle is boring. It’s like the development team forgot that we’re playing video games specifically to not be bored, but the game’s sudden obsession over the final four levels with going for the over-the-ledge knockouts is beyond the pale. And suddenly all the mechanical foibles I had been overlooking for a couple weeks weren’t nothingburgers anymore.

This part specifically, which is the home stretch for the second or third fake-out final boss fight, placing you on this moving platform where you really can’t stop moving AND puts enemies that knock you out quite high up. Not only do you have to wait to fall all the way but it sends you all the way back to the start of this segment.

As much as I enjoyed DKB, it was never a perfect game. It has one of the worst cameras Nintendo has done since the GameCube era, back when 3D games were brand new and game makers were still figuring that stuff out. I assume it’s based on the “almost every solid surface can be destroyed” element. The camera is NOT suitable for it, as it’s often hard to find a good angle to do what you want to do. But then there’s other janky things. Many of the power-ups have multiple actions mapped to a single button. Tap the button to do one thing, hold it for the other, and it’s badly programmed, as regardless of what you INTEND to do, tap or hold, the game will do the opposite. It never gets better, either, and so even against the final-final-final-final-final boss (yes, all those finals make sense), I would need multiple attempts to perform the action I intended to do because the game doesn’t (can’t?) wait to see if I was holding or tapping the button. Which seems like it defeats the point of making it like that to begin with.

The elephant’s ability to slurp things up, especially when you level up those abilities, is so overpowered that it probably should have been saved for post game content. I mean, I LOVED it, but it also basically marked the end of “elegant” exploration in Bananza.

Whether you’re powered-up or not, the act of aiming a pile of terrain you’re holding, which pulls the game into a third-person view with a crosshair, fails constantly. Sometimes it will just plain not work the first attempt, or second, or third. Maybe it’ll throw the piece away, which means you have to scoop-up more. Since you probably NEED this mechanic to work when you’re trying to use it, especially if it’s during combat, it’s a pretty damning thing to happen as often as it does. The animal power-ups fail just as often. The elephant has two powers, the first of which is the ability to vacuum up the terrain. It’s ridiculously overpowered and will probably force you to reset the terrain on stages multiple times because you can render areas impassable, and I loved it. Except you do the vacuum by holding the button down, and often, instead of doing that, it will instead create a boulder out of the stuff stored in its trunk, which is done by tapping the button. And again, sometimes it’ll flip. Plus, you can combine those problems with the failure to register that you want to aim and throw the boulders you make, because that happens too. This game is a Russian nesting doll of mechanical failures.

When you actually get to the third-person crosshairs, it’s pretty accurate. Also, is it just me or does that spot of terrain look like the Prince from Katamari?

By far the most unreliable power-ups were the snake’s double jump and the gorilla’s charge punch. The snake is one of those “always hopping” mechanics that Nintendo keeps going back to, like in Mario Wonder, and it’s NEVER fun and they will NEVER get the message on that and stop including it. It’s so unimaginative to begin with, but unlike Mario Wonder, it’s not really optional for large stretches of Bananza. You even have to fight a boss as the snake. The snake can also cause slow motion by holding a button down, but once again, sometimes it just doesn’t work the first couple attempts, and I often needed multiple attempts to do a simple double jump up a straight wall. What’s crazy is that, when you’re able to free-climb on a surface, it’s like a Spider-Man game that controls perfectly. It’s only when it does anything but the basic Donkey Kong moves that the game becomes janky.

I lost count of how many times I tried to ride up a wind current as the ostrich and fell right off it because it’s not intuitive to jump first to use a flying button. It really doesn’t help that the move the button does when you’re not mid-air is useless. I never found a use for rolling as the ostrich. It’s a waste of a button.

All these issues make Donkey Kong Bananza probably the worst controlling 3D platformer Nintendo has done in several generations. By far the worst of any game I actually overall enjoyed. The Gorilla Bananza power-up, which is like a beefy version of Donkey Kong, has a charge punch. Just hold the B-button down and he’ll blink and then you can throw a punch for more damage. Except half the time, it doesn’t do it. It does something else. I don’t even know what, but not the charge punch. Even late in the game, when I was trying to charge-up the punch, I’d have to press and hold it again maybe two or three times before it worked. It really felt like maxing-out the upgrades for it didn’t help or maybe even made it more prone to failure. I know video game fans don’t like to wait for anything, but Bananza would have been so much better with another year or so of polish. There are dozens of moments, if not hundreds, where the game feels like a rough prototype. And the controls aren’t even as rough as some of the mechanics. Take the muck, for example. See this?

That ooze stuff is supposed to be like slug slime. That hole only opened up after two or three hits that seemingly did nothing.

It’s called “muck” and the final proper, Mario Odyssey-like level is themed around a theme park that got covered in it. It’s kind of like Mario Sunshine, except instead of having an easy-to-refill hose to wash it off, you have to pick up piles of salt and throw it at the muck, which will clear a tiny amount of it. You have to do this one pile at a time. That would be bad enough if it worked, but it doesn’t. Even no-questions-asked direct hits don’t always work. I don’t know if it’s because there’s a microscopic piece of debris in the way. I think that’s what has to be happening. Maybe they shouldn’t have been as stingy as they are with how much muck a handful of salt can clear. For muck without an enemy in it, one pile doesn’t do a lot. On its face value, it slows the game to a crawl IF it worked 100% as intended, and would have been a bad idea on its own. But it’s like the Nintendo Switch 2 can’t handle the idea of this pile of salt you pick up disintegrating into thousands of particles that evaporate the muck. If ANYTHING is in front of it, the whole pile you threw is lost. This was especially problematic with fossils that were embedded in it. Even trying to throw around the fossil and carve it out would just leave the damn thing suspended in air. I can’t believe they included this whole mechanic in the game. (shrug) It doesn’t work! I don’t know how else to say it! It doesn’t f*cking work, at least good enough to be used as much as it is.

That’s assuming the salt even gets picked up. There were a few times where I was standing over it and somehow picked up dirt instead.

Enemies and bosses can be the same way, too. Larger ones are covered in layers of one of the materials that you can dig through (usually whichever material dominates the level layout) and if you throw something at them, it’s never consistent from one throw to the next how much shield you’ll peel off. Sometimes a direct hit goes right through them and removes their shield, and other times it might just make a tiny little dent in it. There were a lot of instances where their shields would be incredibly misshapen from all the crap I’d thrown at them, but they were still alive and attacking because the direct hits weren’t registering the full damage to the “suit” the skeleton underneath it was wearing. It’s a very janky, inconsistent game that, frankly, often makes the Switch 2 feel less powerful. Like, in 2025, it kind of feels like this texture-based gameplay should be further along than this.

This mini-game in the Canyon Layer where you have to kill 10 Squeeloids is the ideal way to grind the maximum two hundred or so bananas that you can purchase for 100 coins + 300 gold. I didn’t know there was a cap and spent a long time grinding on it, since you can just hit “restart” after everything is dead (any coins you don’t collect will be automatically given to you after the last one dies). Also, notice there’s two records in this screenshot? This is also the ideal room to get the records really fast. I went from missing 100 or so to having everything in about thirty minutes. It’s “Canyon Layer Banana #11: Exploding Pork Platoon.” It’s super easy, too. Sometimes you can clear the whole screen in a single punch that causes a very satisfying chain reaction Later in the game, you get a costume that increases coin drops by over 40%. You can get 25 or more coins per round, which takes under fifteen seconds to finish.

And then there’s the finale. After chasing around Void Kong and his minions the entire game, and Void Kong is NEVER a satisfactory boss to battle with, at least compared to the massive bosses that buffer him, something weird happens. The game has a proper, satisfying enough ending, and even made me laugh. Donkey Kong gets trapped in the purple crap, and it’s pretty funny looking. My brain played the sad version “Frosty the Snowman” and I was in tears, howling with laughter.

But then Pauline sings him free, and that’s a good, proper ending to the game. It’s how the game started. First Pauline was covered in the purple crap during the tutorial stage, then DK was, and now they know their power and their wish can come true. Void Kong is defeated, peace and returns to the layers, and we reached the Infinity Banana, which grants wishes to whoever gets to it. It’s the Triforce of bananas, apparently. Those last couple hours were pretty bad, but overall, Donkey Kong Bananza was a really fun game.

But then this happens.

Excuse me, what?

What the f*ck? Yeah, the “Root” exists but the thing you think was the root was King K. Rool’s tummy. This wasn’t set up at all leading up to this. What follows is another level that sucks and is nothing like the Mario Odyssey-like adventure I had loved for the first couple dozen hours of gameplay. Also, now the big enemies that once had skeletons inside them are housing the Kremlings inside of them instead.

And then you eventually find King K. Rool and the Banana of Destiny and you fight. Well, the best thing I can say about the King K. Rool battle is that it’s a much better fight than I expected. I think the last boss in Donkey Kong Country is a BORING boss fight (frankly none of the bosses in Donkey Kong Country 1 are fun) but this time, he’s a proper big boss, unlike the lame Void Kong battles. It’s one of those “knock the thing they shoot back at them” fights. And hey, I got one last reminder that the Gorilla Bananza’s charge punch, which is the only thing that will knock his cannonballs back at him, just f*cking refuses to activate half the time, so that was nice. One final reminder that this is the least polished major Nintendo game in decades.

But then you win that battle, get the Root, and the game IS over. Pauline wished to return to the surface. Donkey Kong wished for bananas. Awesome. The game is finally over! It sucks that they added one terrible level to an already sloggy ending sequence, but it’s finally done. You have the Banana Root or whatever and you make your wish, the Banana Root blows its load and launches you and her up to the surface. Roll the credits. I mean, surely they’re not going to do the fake end credits thing like in Donkey Kong Country and then have the game continue even further.

Oh no.

My God. Okay, so after an extended cut scene that is clearly the ending, somehow King K. Rool shoots up this banana geyser you’ve been riding to the surface and ANOTHER final battle happens. Each of these final battles has been little more than a reminder of how haphazard DKB’s gameplay is. In this battle, you have to pick up chunks of the geyser and throw them at King K. Rool. You hold down the “grab a chunk” button” to bring up cross hairs to aim, assuming it works. It often doesn’t, like every other mechanic in the game. Sometimes I just couldn’t get the aiming crosshairs to work. Also, this is a battle that goes for the “make you fall off the edge and use a balloon” knock-outs. Awesome.

Thankfully, after five or six hits, King K. Rool is defeated FOR GOOD THIS TIME and…… wait, after all that, HE gets the Banana Root and it instantly gives him his wish to take over New Donk City? MOTHER F*CKER are you kidding me? How come MY wishes don’t work as fast as his? I think this root is evil!

And there’s even a new title screen!

I wanted to cry. And it’s YET ANOTHER terrible stage. It’s short at least, but actually, it’s also the worst part of the entire game because it’s got fast-rising, instakill lava. No time to enjoy the level design. Run for it, or you will die and have to start over from the last barrel you reached. Also there’s thorns and life-sucking hot rocks everywhere and enemies are still going for that one-shot knockout. It’s just the worst. And then, after all that, it’s essentially the same “knock the cannonballs back at King K. Rool” battle as before, only he uses the Banana Root to make him look like this:

Goddammit, Mom! What did I tell you about giving your likeness to Nintendo?!

Right before I finished this boss, I had to pause the game to ask “what the hell am I doing?” Seriously! I hadn’t had even a tiny amount of fun with Donkey Kong Bananza in several hours at this point. Everything I’d loved about the level design and themes and exploration had long since ended, yet the game just refused to stop. I was happy fighting the main villains, but then suddenly Nintendo lost their nerve to not get drunk on nostalgia and switched out the new cast for the old cast. It’s Avengers: Doomsday a year ahead of schedule! So, back to the same old boss Donkey Kong has been fighting for decades, and they didn’t even give him good levels. One of the DLC packs is apparently based on Donkey Kong Country. Why wasn’t THAT the final level? If you’re going to bring back King K. Rool, put him in the Donkey Kong Country level! F*cking lame. At least this time, it was the real ending. You beat King K. Rool, Pauline says she’ll learn to keep the beat without DK beating his chest, and he returns back to his world. Yes! The credits! It’s finally over!

“Three months later…”

Nope. I’m good.

This was one of the most negative reviews I’ve done, but I promise that I had a ton of fun with this.

Okay, so I’m disappointed that Donkey Kong Bananza had a terrible end game. I figured it would be like Mario Odyssey where I’d be joyously knocking out the much harder post-game content, but nah, I’m okay with never playing this again. Hell, I didn’t even pick up the post-game banana. That was my middle finger to a game that forgot that it’s supposed to be fun. All my interest in the post-game content or the DLC was reduced to zilch by one terrible level after another to close out what had been an overall rough but amazing game. Again, by raw ratio of good-to-bad, Donkey Kong Bananza is an automatic YES! Maybe if DKB had been a heavily story-based game, like an RPG, bungling the finale like this could ruin the overall game. But it’s a platformer, and most of the levels were huge, heavy in content, and pretty damn fun. Even the ice level had some damn clever stuff in it.

I liked the whole “singing to undo the purple stuff” mechanics. If anything, I think it’s a little under utilized. There’s no boss that you beat by singing. You might activate a battle with Pauline’s tune, but her singing is set up to be magical. Why not have some enemies that you strip their shield by singing at them. Not that this game needs more actions mapped to one button.

There’s a million reviews out there that talk about the positive aspects of Donkey Kong Bananza, so I’ll sum up my experience by noting that, by my count, there’s eighteen levels in the standard game, assuming New Donk City counts as a level. After being pretty dang bored with opening tutorial stage (Ingot Isle), which has a bland mine setting and doesn’t feature the geocaching-like search for bananas and fossils that I would become addicted to, the next eleven levels, starting with “Lagoon Layer” and ending with “Racing Layer” were the Mario Odyssey sequel I’d waited nearly a decade for. Not all of those are full-sized levels, but it doesn’t matter. For all the camera sloppiness, clunky controls, and mechanical failures, I’d LOVED Donkey Kong Bananza and was making an effort to get every single banana and every single fossil, because it was bliss and possibly my favorite game of the last five years. Other than that sprawling Void Kong fight, it’s a damn fun, damn charming game for that eleven level stretch.

Okay, the racing Diddy and Dixie Kong thing was lame as f*ck. I didn’t like how it controlled at all. BUT, I also won the first and only race I needed to get the banana and open up the next stage. Unlike the ending, the racing segment didn’t overstay its welcome. I’m guessing the post-game content hid a ton of bananas

The game didn’t really start to get bad until after the racing level, the “Radiance Layer” which became the point where I was ready for the game to start wrapping-up. The snake mechanic was introduced and was horrible. There’s large segments where you have to pick up blocks made of light that quickly fade away. It just wasn’t a very fun level at all, at least until the home stretch. Then the “Groove Layer” takes away your ability to transform and the digging/exploration is largely removed. It’s a HORRIBLY boring level, and that was pretty much the end of Donkey Kong Bananza as a good game. The next level, the Feast Layer, is the salt-on-muck level that, frankly, I think is terrible. It’s tragic, too, because Feast Layer’s level design was outstanding. It could have been the best level in the game if the salt/muck mechanics worked, but they don’t. That wouldn’t matter if the level design didn’t rely so heavily on eliminating that muck, but it’s literally the main hook of the stage, and it’s so bad that I can’t believe this was released in this state. There’s nothing worse than picking up a clump of salt, aiming carefully, hitting the muck you were aiming for DEAD ON and having f*cking nothing happen. Thus the potential best stage in the game is rendered not even fun at all.

This is so clever. You have to destroy a block in one place to teleport it to another. Several levels later, out of nowhere, Bananza includes THREE mini-games where you have to create a pathway for falling ice cubes using this “hit a block in one place and it goes to another place” gameplay, and I loved it.

The two full-sized levels that followed were boring, and the New Donk City finale with the rising lava was even worse. In a game based around exploration and discovery, they close things out with a fast-moving instakill sprint. A completely nonsensical idea barely less silly than ending Legend of Zelda with a game of football. But, none of the bad stuff undoes everything that came before it. I paid $70 for this. Did I get $70 worth of entertainment? Easily. And I’m not even mad that the game didn’t end sooner. I’m not arrogant enough to think that most fans won’t disagree with me. They’ll probably LOVE the entire King K. Rool sequence, and I’m happy for them. Hell, I envy them, because my Donkey Kong Bananza experience went from being certain I still had weeks worth of post-game content I’d be eating up to deleting Bananza from my Switch 2 while my sister played “Grounds for Divorce” by Elbow.
Verdict: YES!

Froooosty the snowman……………. what’s wrong with me? It doesn’t even look like Frosty!

Baseball (NES Review) Arcade Archives: Vs. Baseball (Switch Review)

Baseball
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System/Famicom
Released December 7, 1983
Designed by Shigeru Miyamoto
Developed by Nintendo
Available with Switch Online Subscription (Standard)

Arcade Archives: Vs. Baseball
Platform: Nintendo Switch
Original Platform: Arcade
Released June 19, 2020
Arcade Release: April, 1984
Originally Developed by Nintendo
Re-Release Published by Hamster
$7.99 struck out in the making of this review.

No infield fly rule. That’s just peachy.

“Seriously, Cathy?” Yep, seriously. Hey, I’m sporty! And by that I mean I watch sports. Play? Hah. I actually had to stop and think if I’ve even run once in the entire 21st century. Running? That sh*t looks positively exhausting! I used to golf. You know, the sport where you’re allowed to bypass the overwhelming majority of the “moving around” part of the game and instead drive a motorized carriage right up to the ball. Or, if you’re especially lazy, pay someone to drive the cart for you (thumbs up). Really, I’m only doing Nintendo’s 1983 baseball game because it was designed by Big Shiggy Style and it’s probably his worst game ever. I mean, it has to be, right? I’ve heard people say Baseball was good for its time. Was it, though? I wouldn’t be born for another five-and-a-half years after it came out so I’m just guessing over here, but I can’t imagine people in 1983 would be fine with how this plays. This is pretty frick’n horrendous.

Exclusively on the coin-op, the defense changes camera angles. The NES/Famicom version doesn’t do this. BTW, this is the only game I won of Vs. Baseball. Every time I scored a run, the next batter the CPU got immediately hit a dinger on the first playable pitch I gave. Okay, not every time but it felt like it.

The one thing that kinda, sorta feels okay..ish? The batting. It’s fine, really! I’m guessing the majority of video baseball games from the golden age focused on batting, and I could see how maybe in 1983, this felt like a close approximation of America’s pastime. You can scoot around the batter’s box and there’s a nice crack when you make contact. It feels appropriately impactful. So, that’s nice. Nothing else is even in the ballpark, though. Like base running? The AI runners are woefully stupid and heavily unresponsive. See these two screenshots where I got what should be an extra bases hit? Well, for whatever reason, even after the ball hit the ground, the runners tagged back to the bases during a live ball then sat there and stared like dumb sh*ts while the fielder limped to the ball, ignoring my “RUN MOTHER F*CKERS!” command that I was giving the entire time. What should have scored the runner on second base ended up instead being a double play for the other team. If players pulled that sh*t in real life, any manger would have rushed the field and murdered them with a bat. No jury would convict them.

Another example of the brain dead base running: if there’s a man on first and second and the batter hits a ball that IMMEDIATELY touches the ground in front of home plate, the runners will tag-up before running. This is a force-out situation, so why the goddamn f*ck is the first instinct of the runners to tag-up before they start to run to the next base? It’s not humanly possible to react fast enough to give the command not to do this. This is basic, BASIC baseball stuff that has to work every single time, and it doesn’t. I don’t even know why they bothered with running controls because, half the time, the runners don’t listen. They certainly don’t when it comes to sending them to specific bases. They seemed more likely to listen when I gave the “all runners advance” sign. Even then, OBVIOUS ROUTINE doubles and even triples were ignored by the base runners, or even worse: they’d literally run the other way, back to the base they were on and tag up first. Mother f*cker, it’s a base hit! RUN! Little kids playing tee-ball aren’t this inept at the sport! By the way, the CPU opponent’s runners DO NOT have this base running problem. They know when it’s safe to run. That proves it can be done, even in 1983.

There’s no cap on the amount of times the CPU can attempt to pick-off a guy on base, even if you’re not doing anything. I literally pressed no buttons, but it’s baseball and guys step off the base. You would think the arcade game would have a peppier speed, but actually, I think Vs. Baseball tries to pick off runners even more. How many times in a row? I counted nine consecutive attempts four separate times. That’s nine times where not a single button was pressed but the CPU did something besides throw the next pitch. You know Hamster, maybe you shouldn’t have included the five minute caravan mode. It’s not really suitable for it.

What’s with the points you see on the Vs. Baseball screenshots? It’s how the game decides when a player needs to pay to continue. You don’t get a full game per quarter, but instead of having you pay every three innings (which would make sense) every single action in the game (except an attempt at a pick-off) eats up points, on both offense and defense. Are you playing defense and throwing a ball to a base to prevent advancement? That’ll cost you points. On offense and swinging the bat? That takes points too. Foul balls? Yep, both offensively and defensively. So does running the bases, while you get 30 points back for scoring a runner. Then again, you lose a lot more than 30 points when the other team hits a bomb out of the park. I gave up a two-run homer and it deducted 90 points.

There’s no license but the uniforms actually match the colors of six MLB teams (NES) or six Japanese baseball teams (Famicom), including the Chunichi Dragons, who I recognize from Mr. Baseball, a genuinely underrated sports film. If you can find it, check it out. The funny thing is, I don’t LOVE baseball (it’s fine) but I love baseball movies. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told people that the ending of A League of Their Own makes zero sense. The climatic game, I mean. There’s two outs, two on, and up to the plate steps Dotty Henson, the best hitter in the league. Yeah, she gets walked. 100% of the time, especially since the Peaches’ second best hitter, Marla Hooch, got married and didn’t play in the post season. They needed to create a situation where Dotty’s sister Kit, the plucky pitcher who got traded from the Peaches, almost gave up the game to her sister. But having Dotty blast an empty-bases homer would have been better than what they actually did, because what they wrote, simply put, would NEVER HAPPEN! Dotty would never ever ever get pitched to in that situation. They would have juiced the bases to create a force-out situation at every corner. I might have wrote this review just to have an excuse to talk about that on my blog.

If you were playing this on a real cabinet, it would take about a dollar to finish, and after a certain benchmark, the points go away and it lets you finish the game. To put it in perspective how STUPID this system is, right before going to press I played one last game using Arcade Archives’ Hi-Score mode (default settings, no pausing allowed, cheating impossible). On the literal first pitch I was given, I hit an inside-the-park home run. I might have scored a run, but I still had less points (238) than I started with (250) when the first batter stepped up to the plate. Dumb.

Note: In this clip of the inside-the-park homer, you can also see the lengthy pauses at each base. I’m LITERALLY giving the go sign the entire time. The runner should never have stopped! I was waving them forward right from the start!

While the base running and unresponsiveness is enough to assure a NO! by itself, the defense would have earned it too. All the fielding is done automatically. All you have to do is throw the ball. That’s fine with me, actually. I did the same thing when I played Ken Griffey Slugfest on my N64 as a kid. But, because the field is built to scale, the fielders run like they have each foot caught in a bear trap. Okay, I get it. They’re trying to simulate their approximate location if it were a full-sized baseball diamond. I’d be fine with that if the defense was reliable. It’s not. The defense’s judgement in general is pretty bad, so even something as routine as a pop fly could be dropped. The foul line is especially dangerous, as players often have to move up and and down to line up with the ball. This is where the slow speed of the fielding really screws you. However, unlike base running, this one works both ways. The CPU drops fly balls all the time too, and when it happens, it’s almost like they lose track of where the ball is in the sky. At least the pitching is fine. There’s four pitches, all controlled with the d-pad, though I couldn’t get screwballs across the plate. I’d prefer a little more room to mess with the ball, but eh, the base running is what kills Baseball. The runners are constantly tagging-up when they don’t need to, and there is literally no basis for this in baseball. I’ve never seen any game at any level that looks like this. They could have done better, even in 1983.

For whatever reason, I hit a LOT more home runs in Vs. Baseball than I did standard NES/Famicom Baseball.

Okay, so this review MIGHT seem silly to have done. But $7.99 is not an insignificant amount of money. You can buy a LOT of games for under $8 on the eShop these days. If Hamster had bundled it with Tennis, Soccer, and maybe even Golf, that would be one thing. $8 for THIS? And one of the special modes doesn’t REALLY work because the CPU might guzzle most of the five minutes trying to catch a runner stealing. You can’t stop the runners from getting leads, so there’s really no way to prevent getting caught in an agonizing cycle of pick off attempts. Both it and hi-score mode are certainly luck-based. It’s kind of nauseating. I know that the real goal with Baseball was simply to look and play better than any home video baseball did in 1983. Okay, MAYBE mission accomplished there. For that reason, some would say it’s unfair to call this Miyamoto’s worst game. It’s not an invalid argument. And for what it’s worth, I’m not calling this Nintendo’s worst game. The batting works fine. That raises it just out of the WOAT discussion all by itself. I’d rather play THIS than Ice Climber.

In Vs. Baseball, getting beaned is labeled “DEAD.” Jeez, how hard was that ball thrown? Only one person has ever been killed by getting hit by a pitch in major league history. His name was Ray Chapman. I can’t believe I know that guy’s name off the top of my head but I can’t tell you any of my nieces or nephew’s middle names.

The only reason I think Baseball is fair game in the “worst Nintendo game” discussion is because Nintendo keeps re-releasing it, which is a constant reminder that this is a BAD game of video baseball. Slow. Unresponsive. The behavior from the CPU fielding or base running doesn’t resemble what you expect from people who are in baseball uniforms. That’s what kills it for me. I might have joked about it earlier, but all my longtime readers know I legitimately love sports. The reason is simple: I love seeing athletes compete at the highest level. For whatever reason, it captures my imagination. That’s why, for me to really enjoy video sports, I need the fundamentals perfect. The GAME doesn’t have to be perfect, but the basics do. There’s no fantasy without that. No immersion. With Nintendo’s famous Baseball? I can’t suspend my disbelief, unless I’m pretending this is a celebrity softball game played with a three drink minimum. Hell, even then I think the players ought to be able to tell the difference between a line drive base hit and a pop fly.
Verdict: NO! and NO!

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker (Nintendo GameCube on Switch 2 Review)

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
Platform: Nintendo GameCube
Released December 13, 2002 (Japan) March 23, 2003 (US)
Directed by Eiji Aonuma
Developed by Nintendo
Available with Switch Online Expansion Pack EXCLUSIVELY on Switch 2
Listing at Zelda Wiki

I had my family convinced that was my mascot. They were VERY impressed, until I couldn’t stop giggling and they realized I was having fun. “I’ve been bitching this whole time about how it wouldn’t have killed them to fix this stuff and you think they went in and put Sweetie in a 2003 video game?”

Dear Nintendo fans: please put down your pitchforks and torches and rest assured I’m giving Wind Waker a YES! When it’s fun, it’s really fun. Okay?

I’m trying to preemptively calm down the superfans so that, when I say “I seem to remember Wind Waker being better than it actually is” they don’t tar and feather me. I like it. It’s fun. It’s just far from perfect. It’s definitely a noteworthy release, as Wind Waker ended up with more perfect scores than Nadia Comăneci (I promise you, that’s A LOT of perfect scores), including the fourth ever perfect score from Famitsu. It’s also probably Nintendo’s most controversial game ever, at least pre-release. For my younger fans who have no clue what I’m talking about, everything I’m about to tell you, as stupid and trivial as it sounds, I promise you is 100% real. It all started when the Nintendo GameCube’s graphics technology was first shown off in August of 2000 at an event called Space World. This sizzle reel included a very brief clip of Link fighting Ganon that looked like the logical evolution of the graphical style seen in Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask.

These days, we dismissively call a lot of games “tech demos” but what you’re seeing above is a legitimate industry tech demo, and nothing more. It wasn’t an announcement of a new Zelda game. It wasn’t even a real video game. It was a pre-rendered example of what graphics on GameCube would look like, but it got fans excited. I had just turned 11 the previous month and I was one of them. Ocarina of Time was one of my favorite games. In fact, I loved OOT so much that I was begging my parents to let me import a copy of Majora’s Mask from Japan because the thought of waiting six extra months to play it was agonizing (Majora’s Mask came out in April, 2000 in Japan and October, 2000 in the US). They said no, by the way. I was spoiled, but not to the point that they gave into my every whim. They wanted to teach me patience, but I think they just didn’t love me enough. (sniffle) Anyway, when I saw the Space World footage, I was chomping at the bit just like everyone else. Sure, I thought the GameCube was f*cking dumb looking, and I still do. Sorry, Nintendo fans. And then there was Nintendo’s decision not to use DVDs and instead go with these little baby-sized “optic discs.” You’d swear Nintendo had entered into some kind of Brewster’s Millions-like “lose money deliberately” pact. You think I’m joking. I’m not. At 2001’s Space World event, the first OFFICIAL trailer for the next Zelda game was shown. Did they announce a new Zelda game that looks like the tech demo above? Nope. They showed the world this trailer:

And the gaming community lost its f*cking mind. Infamously, the above trailer was mockingly called “Cel-Da” because it was one of the first games to use the new-at-the-time (well, to gaming at least) cel shading technique. I wasn’t one of the angry people. I was more baffled than anything else. The GameCube already looked so damn weird compared to the PS2 or the newly announced Microsoft Xbox, which also looked kind of dorky itself but the graphics and tech and the emphasis on out of the box online play (which didn’t end up happening until a year after it launched) was enough to get anyone hyped. My reaction to the above trailer was “jeez, Nintendo just has to be weird, don’t they?” The whole thing made it feel like they were pissy that they’d lost industrial leadership to Sony and their response was to lean even heavier into changing their core franchises. The big three for GameCube turned Metroid from a 2D Japanese game into a first person shooter developed by an American company, sent Mario on a quest to clean up toxic waste with a giant hose strapped to his back, and turned Zelda into a cartoon. Everyone groaned, then all three games turned out to be REALLY fun anyway. It’s almost like Nintendo is good at this game making thing. But in 2001? It kind of felt like they were self-destructing out of sheer spite.

The Great Sea and the sailing mechanics were part of the plan long before Wind Waker utilized cel-shading. I can’t help but wonder if they switched the art style out of fear that previous experiences with water in a certain Ocarina of Time dungeon, ahem, traumatized their users.

Again, I wasn’t among the people who were angry, but I do admit it sucked the hype out of me to some degree. As a 12 to 13 year old kid, I wasn’t anti-cel shading, but it sure didn’t get me excited, either. Not like I had been for Majora’s Mask. Then I actually played the game, and now I kind of wish they did more games that look like this. I mean, ones that don’t see you controlling Link with a touch screen and a stylus. I think blowback on Wind Waker (hah, no pun intended) is the reason why cel-shading isn’t more common today, and I’ll never forgive the crybabies over it because I love cel-shading today. Too many games look samey, but cel-shaded graphics allow more personality and individualism without that creepy uncanny valley vibe that trying for realistic graphics causes. Imagine what a Zelda game developed from scratch using this style of art could look like today. Also, cel-shaded graphics hold up better to the ravages of time, which is why Wind Waker looks great for its age. The puzzle solving and combat holds up too, which is why it pains me to say that I had less fun than I figured I would have playing Wind Waker in 2025. I remembered it as my absolute favorite Zelda game. I certainly would not grant it that title today.

It’s okay, fanboys. We’ll get through this! Look at how much that Re-Dead loves Link! I love you THAT much!

And it’s not that I remembered Wind Waker as a flawless experience. I specifically remember being annoyed as a kid about how long it takes for the game to feel like it “gets going.” More specifically, I remember being so bored playing the Forsaken Fortress sequence that I was legitimately worried that the game would be no good. The structure of it doesn’t work at all, as you’re introduced to the sword, have to train with the old man using it, rescue Tetra from Bokoblins, leave on a pirate ship to the Fortress, train on swinging mechanics in the pirate ship, and after all that, the game has you drop your sword and play poorly-designed, sloppily implemented stealth mechanics that cause the game to slow to a crawl if that crawl was done by someone who had both hands freshly severed.

I think Wind Waker has the new record for the amount of times I said “what were they thinking?” about any one game. I know that I keep finding new record holders for that, but I expect Wind Waker to hold the record for a while. Sorry StarTropics, but you’re no longer the “absolute stupidest good game ever made.” Wind Waker is stupid to the point of being in a vegetative state, and not just at the start of the game. For all its virtues, Wind Waker is practically a parade of baffling, nonsensical design and/or outright bad ideas. Ignore how bad the stealth mechanics work: this whole level is BORING. Dull level layout, too.

I remembered ALL of that, and it was just as miserable to play in 2025 as it was in 2003. But, what I didn’t remember is that, even after suffering through all that, you still haven’t “opened up” the game and aren’t free to explore the Great Sea. When you sail, you’re given very strict limitations on where you can go, and you’re given the bum’s rush to Dragon Roost Island for the first proper level in the game, then the bum’s rush to the Forbidden Woods to play the second proper level in the game, and then the game tucks you in at night and reads you a bedtime story, and THEN you get to go out in to the world and explore. I often roll my eyes at people who whine about how games hold your hands too tight these days, but in retrospect, Wind Waker holds your hand until your hand is purple and has that annoying pins and needles feeling.

The whole sequence of getting the third and final pearl and opening up the Tower of the Gods is a massive letdown. Would an actual level for the third pearl have really been asking too much?

Annoyingly, after you do this, there’s only really three normal dungeons left in the entire game. Oh, there’s still lots to do, including a ton of repetitive “dungeons full of monsters that you clear out one room at a time with no puzzles or brain power needed” sequences. But the satisfying dungeons? There’s five. Hope you like them, because when they’re done, the peak fun is done too. Plus, your wallet is capped at a pitiful 200 bucks, which I had maxed out before I even reached the first proper dungeon with NOTHING to spend my money on. I found myself buying everything I could and still maxing-out my wallet in record time. They later increased the starting wallet capacity to 500 on Wii U, but again, that doesn’t help me or anyone playing on our Switch 2. Besides, I would have capped out the 500 starting wallet in just a few more minutes, anyway. You have to wait until later to increase to the 1,000 and 5,000 wallets, and that wait is maddening. I dare say they should have just started the game with the full 5,000 capacity or even higher. But that leads to an even bigger problem: Rupees are too abundant in Wind Waker while things to do with those rupees, well, aren’t.

These all went to waste. If this were real life, it’d be all the eShop sales where I loaded up on games that I never even boot up. I used to make fun of people who watched QVC or Home Shopping Network and ordered sh*t from home. Then I became old enough to have my own credit cards right around the time game consoles started having shops built right into them. I assure you, I’m ashamed of myself. Oh, I’m still going to keep buying games I never play and justifying it by saying I’m supporting devs.

Sail between any two islands and you’re bound to see enough light rings to dredge-up hundreds of bucks. It’s a mechanic that should have been killed on the drawing board and seems to only be there in order to make sure players are educated on how to use the grappling hook for the tedious task of fishing out the booty of forty-one treasure charts, eight Triforce pieces, the rewards from slaying six giant squids, and spoils of two specific warships out of dozens upon dozens in the Great Sea, both of which are located in arbitrary places, one of which leaves a Triforce Chart and one of which has a Piece of Heart. I was stunned to find out, just now, that 148 of the light rings are actually in preset locations and don’t come back. Because literally every trip between islands, it felt like I was passing by and hoisting up anywhere between two to six or seven new ones in each sector, every single time. A few of the ones at night respawn during full moons, but if there’s anything special about them, I never noticed. Except for the light rings caused by slaying giant squids or two specific warships, they always had either 20 or 50 bucks in them. In a game where you get money and supplies just for cutting grass, the light rings steal the uniqueness of the treasure charts. There’s just too much stuff to pull up from the ocean floor.

I only have one verified phobia: thalassophobia, or “fear of open water” which, despite being one of the most common phobias, the science is still out on. There’s multiple theories on it, the most common of which speculates that it’s likely connected to a broader “fear of the unknown” that’s the root of many phobias. The theory goes that, since you can’t visualize something unknown, our brains will latch onto the closest approximation of something we associate with the unknown as a visual reference and then install an intense sense of fear in it regardless of risk or rationality. For some people, that will create their fear of the dark, or others fear of strangers. For those with thalassophobia, it’s theorized that, thanks to folklore and religious iconography (like Noah’s Ark), history (like the sinking of the Titanic), urban legends (like the Bermuda Triangle) and pop culture (like Jaws) even those who aren’t close to an ocean or have no reason to fear water will still develop the phobia because we’ve been told the ocean is scary our whole lives. It makes for the easiest visual metaphor for the scariness of the unknown because a vast open ocean is where ships and planes disappear, never to be seen again, and besides, the water could have anything underneath it. Of all the theories, that sounds right to me, since one of my most common nightmares is being attacked by sea monsters. Despite playing video games in the comfort of my home, open water in games can f*ck with me pretty bad. Perhaps because of the cel shading, Wind Waker wasn’t as bad for me as, say, a couple of the bosses in Shadow of the Colossus, but there are some pants-wetting moments, specifically the giant squids. Wind Waker has six of them and, once they’re dead, they don’t come back. You can see where they are by using seagulls flying around in a circle. I intended to methodically stake them out, but instead, I hit not one, not two, but THREE giant squids by accident, startling the sh*t out of me when it happened. Funny enough, I won all six battles on my first attempt because the boomerang is too overpowered. The sharks were a lot more problematic than the squids were. If I could change one thing about the combat, it’d be eliminating every hit of damage you take on the boat being so violent it knocks you into the water. Seriously, EVERY TIME you have to climb back in, often just to get knocked right back into the sea. I think it has to be the “knock back” with the longest recovery time in gaming.

Granted, you won’t be able to do much with most islands until after you finish the Forsaken Fortress for the second time and have your first encounter with Ganon. Except, I thought the point of Zelda games was that you come across things that you know will make sense later, but you can’t do anything with them now so you put a pin in them. Wind Waker sets this up a lot, but because the game takes so damn long to open up, those moments feel like they still happen on an anal schedule instead of organically. In theory, Wind Waker should have a heavy emphasis on exploration of a vast, big sea. In practice, for the first several hours of gameplay, it feels like you’re shackled to a preset pathway. In fairness, it does feel like a defining moment when you realize the entire world is opened up to you. But that comes at the expense of a childlike sense of discovery and wonder. Compare this to my first Zelda, Ocarina of Time, where SO MUCH of the world opens up after the first level. Seriously, in 1998, I went several days between entering the first dungeon and the second. Well, that’s out of the question here.

You have to retrieve three pearls to raise the Tower of the Gods. The first two you earn from dungeons. The third one? Instead of a dungeon, you’re given the runaround on the great sea. This giant angler fish is supposed to be on one island but is instead hiding behind a solid rock wall on your native island. This whole sequence is how the game gives you bombs as an item instead of a plant that you pluck from the ground, and ultimately it’s Wind Waker’s way of letting you know that the map is now open for exploration. But it completely let the wind out of my sail to realize there was no dungeon and I just had the Macguffin now.

I also remembered Wind Waker as being much bigger than it is. As gigantic as the Great Sea is, there’s only five traditional Zelda-style dungeons: Dragon Roost Cavern, Forbidden Woods, Tower of the Gods, Earth Temple, and Wind Temple. Don’t get me wrong: they’re strong dungeons, with the Earth Temple being the best in the game. It’s just not enough. I suppose the Forsaken Fortress can be counted as a “dungeon” but by the time you actually get to play it properly with a sword, I was more than ready to be moving on to the next part of the game, and I groaned when I had to return to it later. Finally, I thought Ganon’s Tower had exceptionally uninspired design. It’s basically a boss rush of some of the previous bosses, where each boss chamber (which is done in black and white) is preceded by a short room that has the type of puzzle you would see from that stage. Imagine if every TV show’s season finale spent the first thirty minutes with a clip show and then the final ten minutes were the actual new content. That’s how Wind Waker actually ends, and Ganon is probably the dullest boss in the game, so the ending sucks just as much as the opening does.

Not only are the boss rush bosses now in black and white, but the game strips you of all items that you didn’t have up to the point when you first encountered them. When you enter the chambers, all the items (except bottles) are removed from your loadout and you have to reassign them. Then, after beating the bosses, when you return to the hub of the level, you have to re-reassign each item to each button again.

So the structure of Wind Waker is pretty weak, and so are many aspects of the open exploration. Players are incentivized to do battle against a series of platforms that are scattered throughout the Great Sea. A lot of these have cannons on the side, and taking out those cannons can be a chore, especially since getting the camera to even find an angle to see what you’re shooting at isn’t even always possible. Plus the seas might be choppy AND you’re being shot back at. For all the time and effort you have to put into taking these things out, the rewards are often a slap in the face. A golden feather, a skull necklace, or a joy pendant, all of which are things you can get by hitting an enemy one time with the grappling hook. There’s a single platform in the entire world that has a valuable Piece of Heart. It should be a joy to systematically take these things out, but instead, it’s reduced to busy work.

F*ck you, Wind Waker. F*CK YOU!

This is not an optimized world, and going off the list of fixes from the Wii U game that I never played, it would appear they didn’t fix that for the remaster. There’s so many things they could have done with the chests on the platforms that would have made them worth the effort. Here’s a thought: ditch the light rings that are so common that you’d swear they’re randomly generated and put that money on the platforms instead. Also, they could have had a lot fewer treasure charts that lead to the silver rupees worth 200 bucks. They overdid the silver rupees to such a degree that I stopped caring about recovering the items seen in the Treasure Charts altogether. I hit up a list of which charts pointed towards a Piece of Heart and went after them, and only them. Like so many other things about Wind Waker, mechanics that should have been a defining highlight are reduced to a commonplace chore long before the credits roll. What Wind Waker needed was someone above Aonuma to tell him “no. Don’t do that.”

I found myself massively over-bidding on the auction just to dump money.

What’s really f*cking infuriating about it all is there’s not enough ways to spend money until late in the game. But then, out of nowhere, there’s a dramatic spike in the need for money. The trading sequence Piece of the Heart takes around 600 to 700 rupees to complete and the Triforce charts take 3,184 rupees to translate. That sounds like a lot, but in this game, if you don’t stop every two seconds to pull up another light ring (which my father really wanted to do even if we had a maxed-out wallet), it really isn’t. At the point where I struck the killing blow on Ganon to end the game, I was holding 2,721 rupees that were functionally useless. It didn’t have to be this way. There’s a lot of stuff that they could have sold in stores like charts, bottles, etc. Only a single store in the entire game has high-priced items, and once they’re gone, that’s it. The three items being sold (a bottle, a Piece of Heart, and a treasure chart that leads you to another Piece of Heart) will run you 2,350 bucks. I’m fine with the price, but those types of prices SHOULD be a big deal that you work hard for, and they’re not. I haven’t even mentioned all the money you get out of pots or killing enemies. “Are you made of money?” In Wind Waker, yeah, you might be.

The first few “beams of light” that indicate the location of a treasure chart item had me excited. It’s damning that they lose their luster because money is so easy to come by that scooping up 200 dollars from the sea floor isn’t remotely a big deal. Out of the 41 treasure charts in the game, 11 point to a Piece of Heart and a f*cking insane 24 of them have the 200 value silver rupee. Others might have useless special charts that tell you, for example, how many Pieces of Heart each sector of the game has, except it doesn’t really act as a check list and doesn’t cross out if you found every one. There’s 44 total Pieces of Heart in the game, so having a built in checklist instead of having to use an online guide would have been nice. Same with the platform chart or submarine chart, which doesn’t tell you which ones you’ve cleared out. Meanwhile, I didn’t get the Octo Chart or the Great Fairy Chart until after I’d already found every one of those. You know, maybe you should have, I dunno, SOLD THEM IN A STORE?! The fact that it’s even possible to fish them out of the sea after they have any usefulness is just frustrating.

And while I’m whining about things I didn’t like, I encountered a ton of glitches playing Wind Waker, some of which are likely caused by an unstable GameCube emulator utilized by the Switch 2. The Link model vibrated in nearly every cutscene in the game, like he was experiencing a specifically vindictive and isolated earthquake localized entirely underneath his feet, and that was SO distracting and SO annoying, but at least it didn’t break the game, which I did more than once. I had multiple instances in treasure chambers or submarines where I had to exit and come back and start over because enemies that were supposed to spawn didn’t, thus ending the sequence before I could complete it. I’ve narrowed it down to two specific types of enemies as the likely culprits for why this kept happening. These things called Miniblins that are dead-ringers for Stitch and the infamous recurring Zelda baddies Wizzrobes, which now look like toucans for some reason, were ALWAYS involved in rooms where I was locked-out of being able to finish the stage. Of course, that was nothing compared to the soft lock that happened after I beat the second boss. Apparently I was in the exact wrong part of the room to strike the killing blow because the game would not load the dialog and was froze permanently on this screen:

I hadn’t been using the original save system and was relying on using save states to eliminate having to restart rooms with tricky jumps. Had I not laid down a save state about fifteen minutes before reaching the boss chamber, the game would have been over since I couldn’t even pause at this point. This was frozen-frozen, and that meant I had to replay the last few rooms and the second boss. Needless to say, I was laying down save states constantly after this boss. I recommend anyone else playing this on their $499.99 Switch 2 do the same and spread those save states out using all four save slots since it doesn’t seem out the realm of possibility that the “enemies fail to spawn” glitch I talked about above could happen in a locked room, leaving you with no possibility to unlock the room. Another glitch was this treasure chest next to a submarine was placed in a way that I could not open it. Had there not been a submarine there for me to enter and exit, I would have had to leave the entire sector and return to it in order to open the chest. Now granted, the chest was one of those nothingburger chests that I was whining about, but again, if it could happen in this spot, presumably it could happen anywhere.

On the left is the chest that didn’t open. On the right is the same chest, only now it was positioned further from the edge. I was able to open it now.

My final pet peeve with Wind Waker is that I feel the combat relies too heavily on the fog of war to create artificial difficulty. The Wizzrobes use this tactic constantly, because the main challenge in rooms where they team up with other enemies is just getting your targeting system to lock on to them. The Darknuts also use this when they appear in large groups. The giant worm that you fight in the Wind Temple had a similar structure, as my only issue with fighting it was, instead of locking onto its weak spot, which you have to shoot with the hookshot, the targeting system would instead lock-on to its babies, which spawn endlessly. Sometimes they really screw with you by adding the annoying-ass Miniblins into the battle, and since there’s an unlimited supply of them, it assures that you’ll lock onto them instead of the stuff that’s actually a danger to your health.

No, I don’t want to hit this thing. I want to hit the thing birthing that thing.

I’ve just done a LOT of bitching about Wind Waker. It’s safe to say that, following my 2003 play session of it, my brain deleted a lot more negative aspects of it than it did positive ones. I really always looked back on this as a mostly flawless game, at least once you get past the Forsaken Fortress at the start. Replaying it now over two decades later, jeez, Wind Waker is a deeply flawed experience, isn’t it? But, the thing is, all my positive memories of it were also accurate. Despite a problematic camera and the worthless “tornado spin” attack that leaves you dizzy for far too long, I enjoyed the sword combat of this Zelda more than any other game in the series, easily. I don’t care if the parry is overpowered (and it is). I liked using it! I liked smacking a Moblin in the noggin with a boomerang and then snagging its skull necklace with the grappling hook. I liked taking aim with my bow and shooting a Peahat out the air from the other side of a room. I never backed away from any fight because the fights were just so fun that I couldn’t say “no” to them.

Only a Zelda game could have a sequence where you briefly take control of a seagull that’s getting chased by a vulture and have it successfully be a heart-pounding moment.

I’m sure Nintendo fans will be furious at me for spending most of this review sh*ting on Wind Waker instead of showering it with praise, but I did actually 100% the game. Well, not counting the Nintendo Gallery which takes too long to open up and too much busy work to complete. Instead of figurines, why not just do something simpler, like a photo album? But in terms of ITEMS, I got everything, something I didn’t do in 2003. Yes, I even got the blue gels, though I think I did that one the first time too, or at least enough to craft the blue medicine. In my original playthrough when I was 13, there were two specific Pieces of Heart I know for sure I never got. I never finished the trading sequence, which is a lot different from other Zelda games. It’s confusing and clunky. This time, I did get every item out of it which culminates in a Piece of Heart. Finally, I never did the notorious “water every plant in twenty minutes” thing. I tried it once as a kid, but when I realized that you had to do all eight within the time limit, I said “I don’t need that last heart to beat the game.” This time, I did it, and I finished with plenty of time to spare, too. Worth the effort? Not really, but there’s a strong chance I’m never going to play Wind Waker again so I wanted to be able to say I did it.

On the Wii U version, the time limit is increased to thirty minutes AND you can get a faster sail. That’s great! Happy for you Wii U owners. But, say it with me: THAT DOESN’T HELP SWITCH 2 OWNERS!

There’s just so much to like about Wind Waker. Tetra is my favorite version of Zelda, and she’s so spunky that I kind of wish they’d give her a game. I don’t mean Navi Trackers, either, which we never got in the US anyway (and it required four players who each owned a Game Boy Advance and a Gamecube to GBA cord to play anyway). I mean give her a game where you go on treasure hunts! Speaking of which, how come, in a game with pirates, there’s no buried treasure on the islands? What could have been really interesting is pirate maps where X marks the spot and you have to suss out which map is to which island based on landmarks. Again, there’s so much left on the table that I hate that Wind Waker didn’t get a direct sequel. And no, the DS games don’t count. I tried them, besides the fact that they use touch controls, I thought the game structure with a central dungeon you have to continuously return to is lame. So in my book, Wind Waker was a one and done, and despite my whining, it will always hold a special place in my heart. Maybe a year from now, I won’t remember all the stuff I hated. It already happened to me once, so maybe I’ll still think of Wind Waker as the game where I was smiling ear-to-ear doing this:

I’ve noticed that, when it comes to key games of my youth, replaying them for the first time as an adult years later always makes the flaws stand out that much more. My sister got me the Metroid Prime remaster for my birthday last year. I started it and restarted it three times in the thirteen months that have followed and I still have never even finished the first level. It was a game I couldn’t put down at the age of 13, and now at 35 to 36, I can’t even pick the damn thing up. Maybe it speaks to the quality of Wind Waker that it wasn’t like that at all. Instead, I flew through the game in a week, whereas I think I spent close to a month with it the first time around. When I was in the dungeons, or exploring a new sector for the first time, I was having fun. The light-reflecting puzzles that a lot of people hate? I think they’re genius, especially that last one that takes a while to finish. Okay, so the ending where Link says “see ya, wouldn’t want to be ya” to his sister is a big downer. Maybe it was payback against the fans for the backlash to the graphics style. Or maybe they were just bitter that they ran out of memory to hide about five thousand more silver rupees.
Verdict: YES!

Apparently the entire ending is actually a video file that’s not rendered live in the game’s code, and they didn’t bother up-scaling it so it looks very blurry. The ending is a punch in the gut anyway so it’s probably best to just imagine that Link realized his little island was awesome and Tetra is an obvious sociopath. In my head canon, I assume her pirate crew actually know that she’s Princess Zelda and are just going along with her desire to be a pirate because it’s amusing.

 

The Legend of Zelda (NES Review)

The Legend of Zelda
aka Zelda no Densetsu: The Hyrule Fantasy (Japan)
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System, Famicom Disk System
First Released February 21, 1986
Directed by Shigeru Miyamoto and Takashi Tezuka
Developed by Nintendo
Available with Switch Online Subscription (Standard)
Listing at Zelda Wiki

There should be a law that any game where you swing a sword must have a multi-headed dragon. Actually I’m fine with that law being for any video game. Madden would be at least 3% better if a multi-headed dragon interrupted field goal attempts, with the percentage going up depending on the number of heads, naturally.

For this review, I played Legend of Zelda between sessions of Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker on my Switch 2, and two things stuck out to me. The first is that I couldn’t forget that the gap between Zelda 1 and Wind Waker is five years shorter than the gap between Wind Waker and right now, today. That’s insane! Like, where did my youth go? Wind Waker released when I was 13 and it was one of those benchmark games of my childhood. I was a HUGE Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask fan and I couldn’t wait for Wind Waker. I didn’t give a squirt if they changed the graphics style because *I* thought it looked really cool and was confident I would love the game, and I did. But the 2D Zeldas seemed different enough that they might as well have been a separate series to me. At the age of 13, the first Zelda game was so old and primitive that it might as well have happened in the stone age. Like so many Nintendo milestones, I didn’t play it until years later when it was on a GBA cart. You can imagine my surprise that I really enjoyed it a lot. Zelda 1 is right up there with Super Mario 2 and Castlevania as far as NES games I’ve played the most times.

From the time I launched IGC in 2011 and continuing to the present day, the average age of my readers is around ten years older than me. It’s actually closer to seven-to-eight years older now, but amazingly, even though I’m now 36 years old, they’re still older than me. Well, this summer I’ve done a ton of games from the childhoods of my readers, with only WarioWare being a pivotal game of my own youth, and I don’t think anyone would call that a major milestone game. So, one of my next reviews will be for Wind Waker, which I first played at the age of 13, because MY childhood matters too, dammit! By the way, I used to make fun of people who used their shiny new $500 game consoles to play retro games and now I’m one of them. Remember kids, you will grow up to be that which you mock now, so try to mock lovingly. You’ll feel like less of a horse’s ass in the future.

The second thing that stood out was how, of all the NES games that serve as launching points for franchises, the first game in the Legend of Zelda series is easily the title that aged the best. Playing it now, in 2025, I admit I was a little surprised by how much of the core Zelda formula has remained unchanged from this first game. The overworld format with distinct areas like lakes, deserts, graveyards, coastlines, forests, mountains, rivers, etc? It all started here. Really, the only major area not debuting is any form of a town. The dungeon format is in the same boat. The map, compass, enemy pacing, and goal of finding the key items and slaying a boss to collect the macguffin? It all started here too. A lot of the enemies that would be Zelda staples are introduced here, as well. Mummies? Here. The centaurs that are major characters in Breath of the Wild? They debuted all the way back here. So did Octoroks, Moblins, Zoras, Tektites, Wizzrobes, and Darknuts. Some have evolved more than others, so maybe the roster isn’t as close to modern counterparts as, say, a Mario game, but they all feel kin to their modern counterparts. For a series as complex as Zelda, that’s pretty remarkable.

Actually, the weakest enemy to battle with in all of the original Zelda is easily Ganon himself. The gimmick with him is he becomes invisible and teleports around the room, and the only way to beat him is to just mash the attack at NOTHING and hope he eventually teleports his intestines into your sword, then after the fourth hit (assuming you have the magic sword), you have to finish him off with a silver arrow. That part is fine, especially since the silver arrow is hidden within the final dungeon itself. But the fight up until the killing blow? What were they thinking? Who the hell wants a final boss that’s beaten by stabbing blindly at air? Ganon, as generically evil as he is, is still one of my favorite gaming villains and he would eventually go on to become a great final boss (Ganon > Ganondorf IMO, the human version of him is TOO generic), but his debut is one of the very worst boss battles Nintendo ever did. Actually, I think it might be at the bottom. A terrible idea executed horribly.

I played both the first and second quests of Zelda 1 for this review, and in the case of the second quest, I had never played it past a few minutes. It really was like a brand new experience, and it was refreshing given what happened in the first game. In the first quest, I had doubled my hearts from three to six and acquired every item you could get out of the overworld or purchase in shops (except the Magic Sword and two heart containers) before I ever played the first dungeon. You can’t exactly tackle the levels in ANY order because one requires the raft to reach and others require the ladder to win (assuming you’re not using glitches), but there’s still a lack of tightness of design. Really, the modern Zelda format as seen in Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom feels closer to this original game than the Zeldas of my childhood, in that both lean into a sense of overwhelming vastness.

LOOK AT THAT ARTWORK! I want an anime that looks like that! Now, I grew up in the tail-end of the instruction book era, BUT I STILL READ THEM! Instruction books have since gone the way of corded controllers and game rentals. Mention instruction books to my nieces and nephew and they’ll sort of cock their heads to the side and say “in….truck…..shun…… books? What’s a book?” Kids these days, I swear to God. But I checked and if you bought this game for the NES back in the day, the book would give you pointers to get to the first level and then a map of where the second level was, but THAT WAS IT. While researching this feature, I also found out that Nintendo published a pocket-sized guide to Zelda called “Tips & Tactics” that also says “instruction book” on it. I’m not sure if this was sold separately, bundled with the game, or originally sold separately but then bundled with later pressings. If you had Tips & Tactics, let me know in the comments! I want to hear if you remember how you got it! I’ve mostly heard from readers that they got their Zelda maps from Nintendo Power or the precursor to Nintendo Power, the Nintendo Fun Club Newsletter. So, I went through those. The third issue of the newsletter has a complete overworld map and maps for the first four levels. The fourth issue has a guide to the bosses. NOTHING offered a complete walkthrough, though the first issue of Nintendo Power did include complete maps for the second quest’s first six levels and the overworld. If you truly got stuck, you had to call a 900 number to have someone walk you through it. “What’s a 900 number?” Kids these days.

On the other hand, nobody can bitch about Zelda 1 getting off to a slow start. My Wind Waker review will probably contain a lot of complaining about how damn long it takes for the game to feel like you’ve actually finished the tutorial section and are now playing the game properly. Seriously, it could take hours. Zelda 1 just kind of drops you off into the world with no real direction on what to do or where to go. In the above caption, you can see the lengths gamers had to go to in order to find help with Zelda. If you didn’t have access to those things, well, you’re on your own. I only played the first quest as well as I did because this was like the fourth or fifth time I beat the game. The first time? Oh, it’s overwhelming. But, that loose structure also opens up the possibility to make a mockery of the developer’s intent.

In the Famicom Disk original build of Zelda, you can use this heart container, combined with the whistle, to max out your health early. By blowing the whistling and summoning the whirlwind while standing next to this heart, you’ll collect it, but when you return, it’ll be back. I SHOULD have played the FDS build but instead I played the US game, where the only glitch I activated was the famous Level 1 door glitch.

This especially extends to the dungeons. You can purchase keys for locked doors within the dungeons in the overworld’s shops. That’s weird enough on its own since the dungeons provide more than enough keys that nobody should have to search too far to find one, which was a mechanic MY era’s Zeldas leaned heavily into. In playing Wind Waker, I realized the small keys play a larger role in maintaining the game’s tempo than I initially realized. When you get a key in that game, or any of the future Zelda games, it’s a MOMENT. That is not the case in Zelda 1 at all. The original game might have incentivized exploration, but it didn’t put a premium on maximizing the real estate. You actually don’t need to fully explore the overworld OR the dungeons. When I did the second quest, I realized there were large parts of the game, especially in the upper left-hand corner of the overworld’s map, that I had never been to in any of my previous play sessions.

Amazing how many icons of the franchise are in Zelda 1 and FEEL like prototypes for the ones I played as a kid. Gohma, who is the first boss in both Ocarina of Time and Wind Waker, debuted in Zelda 1 and is probably the scariest villain. A gigantic one-eyed crab that spits fireballs? Jeez, that’s nightmare fuel.

The keys show off this haphazard use of space the most. By the second level of the first quest, there are so many alternative routes within dungeons that you can completely circumvent MOST of the locked doors. As a result, I had collected so many keys that went unused that I decided to not grab the magic key in Level 8. I had eighteen keys going into Death Mountain and was curious if I could still beat Death Mountain, and if so, how many would I have when I rescued Zelda? Would I need to use ten keys? Five? Would I finish with a dozen keys? Because surely Death Mountain won’t drop keys when a magical unlock-all key is one of level eight’s items. Well, to my surprise Death Mountain also drops normal keys, and like any other level, it had pathways I didn’t need to take. I ended up finishing +1 over what I had when I entered the level and beat Zelda with nineteen total unused keys (having bought none in stores). It’s safe to say that what evolved in Zelda wasn’t so much the sublime combat or the format as it was the tightness of design.

Zelda is probably wondering who the f*ck is this locksmith that rescued her. I assume the keys in the shop thing was some kind of holdover from an earlier build that was put into the game as a means to prevent a soft-lock if a player (1) used every key as soon as they found it and (2) picked the wrong sequence of locked doors. Perhaps at some point, it was possible to pick the wrong door to unlock and end up with no option but the shop. But given the layouts of the final game, with the sheer amount of destructible walls, I can’t imagine it’s possible to do that now. Even if you somehow found yourself stuck or missing a key, it’d be quicker and cheaper to grind Moblins until one drops a bomb pick-up than it would be to spend $100 on a key.

Don’t get me wrong: most of Zelda’s play mechanics hold up to the test of time. It might have the best offensive mechanics in the entire NES library. The sword is VERY satisfying and the concept that it shoots a laser out when you have full health is both bonkers and inspired. Unlike the majority of classic gaming tropes where you say to yourself “someone WOULD have come up with something like this eventually” I don’t think the laser-shooting sword is the type of idea that was inevitable, you know? And honestly, I still think the NES version of it is the best one in the franchise. It’s kind of weak in future games, but here, it feels powerful and cathartic, with perfect sound design and that little explosion it makes at the end being the chef’s kiss.

In the second quest, these things that you can grease with one arrow show up long before you get the bow. In the Famicom Disk version, you can blow into the microphone to kill them. In Zelda’s second quest, you have to just hack at them with a sword for a few hours until they croak. HAVE FUN!

To go with the excellent sword, the enemies are generally well made. Probably the best roster of enemies of any early NES game, if not the best overall roster on the entire platform. Given the limitations and the overall experimental nature of the game, the cast is HUGE, but the enemies do feel distinct. Okay, so the mummies are kind of just the skeletons with more hit points (well, at least until the second quest) and the bosses are a little too cinchy. Actually, with the exception of the multi-headed dragon, I found the Wizzrobes and Darknuts to be worse to deal with than ANY boss. Like, they certainly overuse the dinosaurs and the four-headed Manhandla. Uh, this thing:

Overused or not, one-shotting it with a bomb is one of those “stand up and cheer!” moments.

But they utilize the enemies in a way that gives both the dungeons and especially the overworld personality. Zoras always show up in the water to give those areas a sense of menace. The moblins rule the forests, while the centaurs control the mountains, and the spider-like Tektites only appear where it’s rocky. Forty years later and Hyrule STILL feels like a real, living world because of where they put the enemies. It’s just so smart. The Legend of Zelda’s offensive game gives you everything you would want in combat with no real downside besides not getting the best out of the roster of enemies (see the below caption). Nearly forty years later and the combat STILL isn’t boring. What else can you say at that point?

I don’t think they maximized the potential of the roster at all. There’s a lot of repeat bosses, some of which are just baffling. The dragon that’s at the end of the first level also shows up as the boss of the seventh level, but without being buffed-up. By that point, he might die in two shots. Why not replace him with one of these things, called Patras, that are only found in Death Mountain? I get that they wanted that level to feel climatic by having some dangerous creatures, but the Patra feels like a boss. Hell, there’s even two types of them, one of which has the orbiting eyeballs curve differently. There’s also fast moving, dangerous worms called Lanmolas that feel like bosses that are exclusive to Death Mountain. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that they intended for these creatures to show up earlier and then lost their nerve because they didn’t want the game to be too hard.

However, Zelda’s defensive game isn’t as strong. It feels arbitrary when the magic shield works or not. Like, it’ll shield you from the blasts of the Zoras in the water but not from identical looking blasts from bosses. So frustrating, especially since hearing that PING of a shot successfully deflected is just delightful. Also, the difficulty scaling is pretty bad in general. Level seven could have easily been level three for how much of a cinch it is. I assume they placed it near the end on the assumption players would be hard up for the cash to buy the enemy bait since it’s the only time you NEED it in the first quest. Meanwhile, levels five and six feel like they could be bumped up a slot or two.

“Hey bats, if you have a moment I’d like to have a word with you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ.” “Ugh, someone hit me with a boomerang, already.“

They also ran out of ideas for useful items to fill out the stages. The magic wand and book are just about the most useless items in any Zelda game. One of those “sh*t, we gotta put SOMETHING here for the players to find!” And there were other options. Hide the letter to the lady in a level! Hide the arrows! Hide the ability to carry bombs in a level! Hide the power bracelet in a level! That one really befuddles me. It’s found in some arbitrary spot on the map under one of the statues that comes to life in both quests. It’s so subdued for such an important item. Except, it’s not really important. All the power bracelet does is make it so you can shove rocks that reveal warp zones, at least in the first quest. They could have changed it so you need the bracelet to shove anything in the overworld, making it essential towards getting the magic sword out of the graveyard. My point is, they had better options and the wand sucks. But Legend of Zelda doesn’t suck. It’s one of the best 8 bit games ever, to this day.

The second quest doesn’t f*ck around. Yes, you permanently lose a heart container if you choose the first option.

Even with the rough pacing, sloppy difficulty scaling, and somewhat underwhelming boss roster, it goes without saying that Zelda is a masterpiece that leaves the test of time laying dead with a sword through its heart. There’s nothing I can say that you’ve not already heard before, and the world certainly wasn’t aching to hear what Cathy Vice thinks of the first Zelda game. Finding something unique to talk about was tricky. And then I beat the game, saw that Link was now holding up a sword, and I remembered that Zelda had a second quest that rearranged a lot of the locations and order of the items and upped the difficulty. This is so underplayed that the famous wiki Zelda Dungeon doesn’t even have a walkthrough for it. Until I started this review, I genuinely don’t remember hearing anyone really talk about the meat of the second quest in features or casual conversation. Even the GOAT of NES coverage, Jeremy Parish, pretty much glosses over it. So let’s talk about it!

Famously, you can also enter “ZELDA” as your name and skip right to the second quest. If you’ve never done it, trust me, it’s worth a look.

The second quest of Zelda is a completely different beast. Of the nine dungeons, only the first one remains in the same location. The other eight? They’re somewhere out in the world. Good luck! Some are where dungeons were already previously located, though in different orders. Level four in the first quest is still a dungeon, only now it’s level five. Other levels are in such arbitrary locations that I would never have found them without a guide. Level eight especially is insanely well hidden. The starting sword, white sword, a couple of the heart containers (including the ladder one and the raft one), the bracelet, and some of the burnable bushes are the same. But, the item order is totally different. The bow? You don’t get it until the fifth level. The whistle you normally got in the fifth level? It’s now in the second level, and there’s a LOT more hidden stuff to uncover with it in the overworld, in places you wouldn’t normally think to look. You don’t even get the ladder until the sixth level, and it’s impossible to grind-up heart containers and get the white sword before you start gathering the Triforce pieces.

Even the letter from the old lady that you need to buy medicine isn’t found until VERY late in the game. It was literally the last thing I found before entering the new Death Mountain. In the first quest, it’s in the above door, but it ain’t there anymore. Instead, this is just a shop now. I did manage to grind up enough money to get the Blue Ring before playing the first stage. The shop that sells it I found by accident, as it had previously been a location of a high-yielding coin drop.

And then there’s the dungeons, which have an entirely different vibe to them. They’re MUCH more maze-like this time and some are pretty hard to find their way through. That’s not just because a lot of them put tougher enemies much earlier than you previously encountered them, either. It’s how you find your way through them. Instead of just having a ton of bombable walls (dear auto-correct: bombable is a word, dagnabit), you might have to just walk THROUGH the walls, like this:

The design logic dives really hard into the invisible doors. In fact, a key item is hidden in one of the levels BEHIND the Triforce piece. The second quest’s progression is based more around confusing players after the first quest and having no real rules or flow to the progress, though it mostly works. Mostly, but the level design itself can be problematic. The layouts of the first five stages spell out the word E-A-L-D-Z. I have no clue why the letters are not in the correct order. I assume they were at some point in development and it was changed due to the difficulty, but either way, the third level, the “L” is probably the single worst dungeon in the entire history of the franchise. Hell, it doesn’t even climax with a boss battle. You know those things that throw boomerangs? The big finale to the third stage is a room full of them.

The locked door? It’s the Triforce room. Yes, really! The room on the right directly across from the Triforce room on the map contains the blue boomerang, and you have to use the enemy bait to get it. So these things are the bosses. They’re not even the tougher blue versions! I thought this was supposed to be the harder second quest?! She said after already dying once.

Okay, so when the second quest is bad, it’s REALLY bad, but it never gets worse than that third stage. Other levels have several clever twists to them. The skeletons? Their swords shoot lasers now, just like Link’s does when you have full health. Full sized bosses appear more frequently in dungeons (in fairness, that happened in the first quest too, but not to this degree). There’s red herring keys laying around that there’s hypothetically no way to get since you won’t have the ladder yet. I mean, unless you return to the dungeon at some later point in the game to collect them. It feels like the second quest’s main objective is to trick players and take away any sense of predictability. Some of the staircases might send you to a room that doesn’t have a return staircase, and it becomes easy to get lost or go around in circles.

The “staircase drops you off in a room without a return staircase” gag that I found hugely annoying is paid off in a big way during the game’s climax. It’s actually the key to solving Death Mountain in the second quest.

While some aspects of the second quest can be taken out of order (for example, I beat level four before level three), it’s a lot harder to cheese by getting the sword upgrades or other key items before the game wants you to have them. It wasn’t long into the second quest that I started to wonder if some of the locations and dungeons were actually the original concepts for the main quest that were moved to the bonus after-game content because they were too hard. Like the mechanic with the bubbles in the caption below? That just feels like something that was meant to be in the game all along. It’s too elaborate to have been an afterthought. The same with the walking through the walls bit. While the Z-E-L-D-A shaped dungeons probably weren’t part of the main design, I think most of the gameplay mechanics from the second quest likely were. Maybe. The story behind the second quest is kind of one of those “spilled mold into bacteria and it killed” moments.

Like (like) I’m pretty sure I can’t reach this key yet. I think they did these things to send players on wild goose chases.

Because of how the memory on the NES worked, all the Zelda maps had to be made to fit like a jigsaw puzzle on a grid, and the second quest only exists because Takashi Tezuka only used up half the available space for the nine dungeons of the first quest. Okay, fine. It was a happy accident. But I’m still willing to bet that they used the opportunity to dump gameplay ideas that were deemed “too hard” and deleted from the original build back into the game. These are just too elaborate, too thoughtful, and dare I say it, too elegant to have been throwaway bonuses that only happened because someone only used up half the memory they were supposed to.

The biggest change to the monsters is with the bubbles. In the first quest, if you touch a bubble, you temporarily lose your sword. In the second quest, bubbles come in three colors: the normal ones that shift between red and blue that temporarily take away the sword are still around. But now, there’s also ones that are always red and ones that are always blue. The always-blue ones are harmless and have no negative effect on Link besides causing him to recoil as if he’s taking damage. The always-red bubbles are by far the most dangerous and annoying things in the entire game. If you touch one, you lose your sword permanently until you do any one of the following things: (1) touch a blue bubble (2) visit a fairy fountain, and yes, the effect will linger even if you leave a dungeon (3) use a potion or (4) get a Triforce piece. This isn’t a rare thing, either. Many rooms will have multiple red bubbles and a single blue bubble, while others might have quite a journey between rooms that have red bubbles and rooms that have the blue bubbles you need to regain your sword. There’s a couple REALLY annoying rooms full of red bubbles where you have to hug the wall and there’s no room to dodge in any direction. Since the bubbles have no preset attack pattern and can change direction without any warning, they’re very, very dangerous.

And it’s not a throwaway bonus. In the second quest, there’s an undeniable method to the madness that should make it a stronger experience for veterans of the franchise. I’m SO happy I finally played it. Again, nobody needs me of all people to recommend playing one of the most famous games ever made. BUT, I suspect a lot of my readers have never tried Legend of Zelda’s second quest. It’s not just more of the same. There’s hints of that, but what the second quest really has going for it is that sense that the gameplay is what Zelda 1 would have been like all along if they didn’t have to consider how new this whole idea was. Because there had never been a game like Legend of Zelda (well, except Tower of Druaga, the NES version of which I reviewed for Namco Museum Archives Volume 1), I’m guessing they had to significantly tone back aspects of it. The speed of the darknuts. The red/blue bubbles. The skeletons shooting swords. I suspect that somewhere between the first and second quests is the definitive version Big Shiggy Style and Tezuka WOULD have made if they weren’t breaking new ground. And I think you’ll get that vibe too if you give it a try.
Verdict: YES!

Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 (Game Boy Review)

Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3
Platform: Game Boy
First Released January 21, 1994
Directed by Hiroji Kiyotake and Takehiko Hosokawa
Developed by Nintendo
Included with Nintendo Switch Online Subscription (Standard)
Listing on Mario Wiki

*I made a mistake when I first published this and said Wario Land is on Switch Online. It is not.

From here out, if there’s an option to do color versions of classic Game Boy titles (meaning more than just four Super Game Boy-like colors), I’m taking it. If home developers are going to go to all the trouble of colorizing these games, at least one person with a semi-big review platform should acknowledge them. All the color screenshots in this feature are from Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 Color Edition by korxo, who did a very good job given the limitations.
Link to the Patch

The fire attack and the dash attacks don’t show up all too well in screenshots. Thankfully, I barely used the dragon hat.

Okay, I’m pretty sure this is the last game that’s officially part of the Super Mario franchise’s 8 bit and 16 bit era that I haven’t reviewed. Like Yoshi’s Island, it’s only technically part of the Super Mario franchise thanks to a subtitle and really exists to act as the starting point for its own spinoff franchise. As of this writing, there’s been eight Wario Land games (assuming you count Wario World for GameCube and Wario: Master of Disguise for Nintendo DS as “Wario Land” games, and I do), and it all started here with a game that built to the strengths of the Game Boy. It’s certainly not Mario-like. Wario Land is actually more of the spiritual successor to the legacy of Doki Doki Panic and later Super Mario Bros. 2. It’s a much, much slower action game with a focus on exploration. There’s no B-running and no fast reaction times required. Even when you’re being stalked by a killer Thwomp, the tempo is kept pretty low and the focus is on creating tension, not panic.

Actually, it does the “chase” gimmick twice, with the second time turning the Thwomp into a boat at the end.

Which isn’t to say there’s no action in Wario Land. Wario’s tackle is satisfying enough, and it’s always fun to pick up a downed enemy and throw them off their perch and to their death, hopefully involving lava. If it worked perfectly, the combat would be S-tier for 8-bits, but that’s not the case. Wario is one of the first 2D retro games I’ve reviewed where the physics are wonky to the point of being genuinely unpredictable, mostly thanks to the level layouts. If you attempt to pick up an enemy with any structure nearby, whatever you’re carrying will be knocked out of your hand, and the enemy might instead shuffle around like they’re square dancing upside-down around your sprite. There’s a roughness to Wario Land that’s obvious right from the start and sticks around until the bitter end.

This is not a traditional hop ‘n squash game. I took more damage fighting the most basic enemies than I did in all other Mario games in this marathon combined. I don’t know if a single goomba so much as nibbled at the tip of my boots in the Mario games, but these little things called Pirate Gooms got me several times. Usually because they recovered right as I was reaching them. I may or may not have lost lives to them as well. (cough) Hey, it wasn’t MY fault. It was the physics. I swear.

Thankfully, the combat takes a deep back seat to stellar level design, but even that has this undeniable roughness to it. Wario Land has one of the strangest progression structures I’ve encountered, as some early levels have multiple exits and branching paths, one of which leads to an entirely different game world that’s otherwise inaccessible. Hell, the very first level in the game takes place on a beach, and the level’s format changes after you beat the first game world and the tide comes in. It’s a great idea that had me so pumped-up to see what other wacky changes would happen to the game world.

And then, after the 23rd of 40 stages, the “multiple exits” concept is abandoned completely, never to return. In total, only five stages have hidden exits. Imagine if Super Mario World didn’t have any key holes after the halfway point. Well, Wario Land actually does that, and it’s so goddamn weird for it. The idea of changing world maps is also largely abandoned, as I’m pretty sure there’s only one instance of it with any consequence after the secret exits stop. A lot of games give off the impression of having more ambitious plans that were left on the drawing board, but with Wario Land, I really think that might be what happened. The only way I can make sense of the structure is that they ran out of time and had to delete multiple exits and possibly stages when the time came to code the game, only many earlier ones had to be left in because they stuck a game world off in the corner, where nothing else on the map can logically reach it, and there was nowhere else to hide the treasures within.

Unlike Mario World, the keys that unlock the fifteen hidden treasures are often placed away from the skull doors that hold them. Sometimes, they’re on the total opposite end of the level, and carrying the keys from Point A to Point B is a pain in the ass. In a good way, I mean. Thankfully, the keys don’t vanish if you scroll them off screen, and you can also use them to kill enemies.

The good news is that hidden doors aren’t the main thing you’re searching for in Wario Land. What you’re really trying to do is accumulate money to buy a bigger house than Mario lives in after Wario’s attempt to claim squatter’s rights in Super Mario Land 2 didn’t work out. The plan is to steal back a gold statue of Princess Peach that was stolen by Captain Syrup, the ruler of Brown Sugar Pirates (why is it always food-based names? Does Nintendo not feed their developers? It would explain a lot!). Surprisingly for a Nintendo game, Wario doesn’t intend to fetch the statue in order to court Peach. Oh no. Wario might be a greedy Mario doppelgänger, but he’s a greedy Mario doppelgänger who follows the golden rule: don’t stick your d*ck in crazy, and when the ruler of a country commissions a golden statue of themselves, it’s a safe bet they’re f*cking nuts. Go ahead and cringe, but Wario played Super Princess Peach. He knows what’s up. So he plans on ransoming the statue to raise funds to buy a castle. It’s the most petty reason to go on a harrowing adventure, and it ends with Mario stealing the statue anyway.

As luck would have it, the final boss is a genie and, once Wario has won the fight, he gets to make a wish. He probably should have made it “I hope that my action-adventure franchise doesn’t completely evaporate by the 2010s” but I’m getting ahead of myself. Because the absolute monarchy of the Mushroom Kingdom is so capitalist that even a genie needs to get a bag, to make Wario’s wish come true, you need to accumulate as much money as possible. The hidden treasures are given value in coins after you beat the genie, and I’m fairly certain that if you find all fifteen of them (and complete all forty courses as well), you will max out the coin bank and get the best ending, which is Wario getting his own planet.

Update: WRONG, you will need about 10K in coins plus the fifteen treasures plus have an all-clear for the forty courses to get Planet Wario.

Mario would later top this by getting his own galaxy. Always a bridesmaid, huh Wario?

Finding the treasures IS hugely satisfying because the game doesn’t tell you where they are. While the five stages with hidden exits are marked on the overworld map, there’s no indicators for which levels have treasures (something Virtual Boy Wario Land did). The only thing you can really use to help is the fact that the fifteen treasures have spots sequentially on the scoreboard. So if you’re missing the “G” treasure, it’s going to be found in one of the levels between where you found treasures “F” and “H.” I love this, and the only thing I wish for is that, once you found the treasures, the game told you what stages you found them in. I also wish Nintendo would build a much bigger game based around this idea. I found MOST of the treasures on my first playthrough, but the act of getting them was rarely a layup. In fact, the second-to-last one I could not find for the life of me.

When you do find the treasures, it’s a moment. It never feels anything short of great.

As a proof of concept first attempt at a new franchise, Wario Land holds up shockingly well. I don’t think it will be for everyone. The slow movement will be a major turnoff for a lot of players, as will be the clunky mechanics. It also has some exceptionally weak bosses. At one point during a boss fight, I was dodging attacks and hunkering down for a typical “three hits and your dead” type of battle. But after a few passes, nothing was happening, so I charged at the boss and it worked. When he was stunned, I picked him up and threw him in the lava and the fight was over. Curiosity got the better of me so I rewound the fight and this time, I charged as soon as I could. It worked.

Even with satisfying combat, I wouldn’t recommend playing Wario Land specifically for it. It’s just not polished enough for that. From an action perspective, it’s for sure the roughest 2D combat I can remember Nintendo doing, including Kid Icarus. But as a true treasure hunt game, I was constantly surprised by how much fun I was having. Wario Land has NO bad levels among the forty total courses, which is nothing short of remarkable given the limitations of the Game Boy. And, as I said, even the basic enemies can pose a threat, so you can’t sleepwalk through it like you can the Virtual Boy sequel that was the only Wario Land I really ever played through all the way. Okay, so the difficulty is largely thanks to the janky physics and stiff jumping, but it’s charming even when it feels like it doesn’t work the way the developers intended.

The later levels that take on maze-like characteristics are so strong that I wouldn’t have minded if EVERY level had been that way. They basically did have that mentality for the sequels.

I’m sure a lot of people will say Virtual Boy Wario Land is the superior game, but I’m not going there. Both games are vastly underrated, but once you stack the eagle helmet and dragon helmet in VB Wario Land, it’s all over but the shouting. The game becomes too damn easy, and that broke my immersion a lot more than the eye-melting red and black visuals did. While there’s a few pits that I feel are too touchy and the collision is never as good as you want it to be, Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 never allows you to go on cruise control. It’s an imperfect build of the perfect 8-bit mix of platforming, action, and exploration. But even the imperfection feels like it fits Wario like a glove. What other character could get away with a game that feels this unfinished? I assume since it was 1994, they thought the Game Boy was near the end of its life cycle and they had to rush it out. Hah.
Verdict: YES!

Donkey Kong Country (SNES Review)

Donkey Kong Country
aka Super Donkey Kong (Japan)

Platform: Super Nintendo Entertainment System
First Released November 18, 1994
Directed by Tim Stamper and Chris Stamper
Developed by Rare Ltd.
Published by Nintendo
Available with Switch Online Subscription (Standard)
Listing at Mario Wiki

Well, um, the rain still looks like rain! Or oatmeal. It kind of looks like oatmeal. But RAINING oatmeal.

I swear to God that I didn’t deliberately review this back-to-back with Super Mario Land 2 because both games were more focused on looking pretty than being mind-blowing from a gameplay perspective. Actually, I thought Donkey Kong Country had a much better chance of scoring a YES! than Super Mario Land 2 because it would still have the horsepower to pull off clever level design. And sometimes it does! Like, take a look at this:

Oof, that does not look beautiful. I bet it did in 1994, and that’s literally the only time it had to. No matter what anyone thinks, even Nintendo games (or games Nintendo paid to have made, as is the case with DKC) are ONLY made to appeal to gamers at the time of release, and if they happen to be valuable as catalog titles later, that’s just a bonus. I know people want to believe the mighty Nintendo plays 4D chess and has this big roadmap of when catalog titles will be worth money again, but they don’t. Nobody does. That’s why gaming licensing planks are so very, very one-sided and sh*tty. 

You have to hit those STOP/GO barrels to freeze the red-eyed enemies, which turn into stones. You never know how much time you get for each barrel, and they staged the level in a way where the last few only give you a split second. It’s quite exciting, and the enemies are creepy enough. I just wish there were more stages that made me sit-up like that, but that wasn’t the point of Donkey Kong Country. It was made only to be 1994’s big smash hit, and if it’s worth some scratch in the 2020s, hey, lucky us. So when people say “Donkey Kong Country doesn’t hold up” it’s okay to say “well duh!” It accomplished exactly what it set out to do in 1994: curb stomp the 3DO into oblivion while keeping Nintendo fans on the hook while they got the platform that would come to be known as Nintendo 64 ready. “Holding up to the test of time” was not on the agenda.

You can’t say that they overplayed level gimmicks. Despite the fact that the STOP/GO barrels had legs as a gimmick, they only show up in that one level. These parrots only show up once too, though they’ll be featured characters in the sequel.

So in a sense, it’s kind of remarkable that any aspect of DKC holds up at all. I think my frustration with Donkey Kong Country is that it doesn’t feel like it squeezed all the potential out of the gameplay concepts it has. Maybe they were saving-up for the inevitable sequel, but I dunno. I’m a big fan of leaving it all on the court, and Rare sure as hell didn’t do that. It’s actually one of the most conservative games I’ve reviewed lately. As a franchise builder, few first steps are rarely this enticing and leave you wanting more in a bad way. Maybe any more bold ideas were canned for being too difficult when they were trying to make a game to appeal to everyone, including very young gamers, whom I’m guessing will like DKC in 2025 more than I did. I hate to guess on these things, but Donkey Kong Country seems like a great starting title for introducing young children to platforming. From what I can remember about the sequels’ difficulty, I’m guessing I won’t be able to say that about them.

Then again, there’s moments that feel like the bottom of the barrel is being scrapped. No pun intended, but this evil barrel is my least favorite boss trope: fighting the same regular enemies you’ve been killing en masse this whole time.

Even the Stampers recognized the game was too easy, but I think that could have been fixed by adding a difficulty toggle. A hard mode wouldn’t have been too hard. Just remove a lot of the DK barrels from stages. I took plenty of damage playing DKC, but I never had to wait more than a few seconds to undo that, so there was no tension. Still, the addition of Diddy Kong was probably the smartest move. What Donkey Kong Country really does right is removing hit points in favor of having two different characters, and whoever you’re playing as is lost when you get hit, at least until you find the next DK barrel two seconds later. Being able to swap between two characters who have different skills was also inspired. Diddy Kong can cartwheel through enemies and seems to have more hangtime when you cartwheel off a ledge before he has to jump. Plus he carries barrels in front of him, which makes it easier to uncover hidden doors. Meanwhile, with Donkey Kong you can do such tactics as tagging Diddy so you can use him instead. Again, a great idea that would be utilized better in the sequels. Are you noticing a theme here?

The only time I used Donkey Kong was when I was afraid of losing Diddy. It became clear really quickly why he’s not playable in the first two sequels.

Unlike Super Mario Land 2 which, besides having a lot of pointless bonus levels, really did nothing wrong besides having too basic of level design, Donkey Kong Country did PLENTY to leave me terminally annoyed. The methodology of 100%ing the game (or 101%ing because ain’t that quirky?) is strange. Every level has K-O-N-G tokens to find, some of which are so well hidden that I couldn’t find them. Sounds great, except they don’t contribute to the final completion percentage. Instead, acing the game only requires finding every bonus room. Probably not the best way to do it since there’s too many of them and they completely bust the game’s flow. My favorite levels were usually the ones that back-loaded the bonus rooms near the end of the stages. Those tended to have above-average level design. Hell, I normally hate swimming stages, but at least none of those have bonus rooms, so they were some of the better levels.

I found myself carrying barrels and walking up against walls because I was more focused on getting 100% than I was just enjoying the boilerplate, paint-by-numbers level design.

What wrecks the game’s tempo even worse than the bonus rooms are the animal tokens. No matter what you’re doing or where you are in a stage, once you collect the third and final token of any set, you drop what you’re doing and enter that specific animal’s bonus stage. It would make so much more sense to instead bank the reward until after you beat the level. That’s a time honored gaming tradition, right? But no, it’s an interruption, and not always (or ever) a welcome one. The levels take a while to finish, and it gets worse, because sometimes after the round is finished, it takes you quite far back in the level you were playing. Maybe even to the start of the stage.

Okay, so the animal bonus rounds are fun. Well, until you have 99 lives. Then they become annoying.

I did end up 101%ing Donkey Kong Country, but the irony is, I probably would have enjoyed my time with the game a lot more if I hadn’t bothered. I mean, not enough to give Donkey Kong Country a YES!, but it would have been a lot closer. I found myself deliberately avoiding animal tokens and losing the bonus rounds as soon as they started just to make them go faster. When just the act of finding the rooms is all you need, why bother? DKC is a game where lives are so plentiful that you’ll almost certainly not game over even if you struggle with some later stages. That’s a big if, by the way. The only stage I died more than twice on was the second mine cart stage, which shows up pretty late in the game. And it’s not that I never enjoyed the exploration aspect. Actually, I was happy that, if you miss a bonus room and have to replay the level, you don’t have to finish it to get credit for the stuff you missed. As soon as you locate the bonus rooms you missed, you can pause the game and press select and return to the map with full credit.

If the game had required all the letters, I would still be playing DKC, but it didn’t, and instead I’m trying to finish up this review as fast as I can.

There are a handful of gimmicky levels to keep the experience somewhat fresh, like the above screenshot. That treadmill runs on fuel barrels that you have to collect, and it kept my attention for the full length of the stage. The mine cart stages are some of the stronger auto-scrolling types of levels I’ve experienced, and a stage where you slide up and down ropes automatically actually provided a solid, enjoyable challenge. I’d say around a third of Donkey Kong Country holds up and remains clever today. But two-thirds of the game is too basic to hold up to the test of time. You never quite shake the proof-of-concept feeling when playing it, and that makes sense because the gameplay isn’t what they had to get working. Nintendo paid for a game that looked high tech enough to buy them time for the Nintendo 64. Donkey Kong Country for the third best-selling SNES game, so they got it. But being more bold and experimental with the level design? That came later, with the sequels.

Donkey Kong Country’s bosses are all dull, but King K. Rool takes the cake. His arena is much bigger than the screen, and his attack pattern is basically adding one pass across the full length of the arena after every hit. So when he drops cannonballs across the screen, instead of an exciting pattern like dodging them for several seconds, the cannonballs drop one at a time across the length of the screen. It’s the most unimaginative way of handling any boss, let alone a final one.

As a prototype for better games to come, Donkey Kong Country is a good start. It’s never BAD from a level design point of view and the barrels that you fire out of are fun enough, though not quite barrels of fun. The controls are pretty good, and it’s easy to get a feel for how long you can roll or cartwheel off a platform and float in the air before you have to jump. But the level themes are basic and dull and there’s not a big enough cast of enemies. The bosses are REALLY bad, too, and since they take even longer to fight than enemies in Mario games, they come across as punishment for finishing a world instead of a reward.

The barrels are certainly a great idea and probably the one aspect of Donkey Kong Country that I feel they didn’t hold back on. They got every molecule of gameplay out of them without being boring. I really think they’re why this ended up such a potent franchise.

The test of time is cruel, and no games have a tougher time facing that test than games based around cutting edge graphics first and gameplay second. Since the graphics were the main selling point, I figure I should mention I thought the game was pretty damn ugly. The character models are fine, I guess, but the architecture is really rough, with backgrounds often looking like Sega CD levels of splotchy. The funny thing is, after Donkey Kong Country became the last big mega hit for the SNES, Nintendo would have given anything to have Yoshi’s Island look like this game, and the only reason it didn’t happen is because it was too far in development to change the entire art direction. That’s kind of hilarious, because Yoshi’s Island still looks good in 2025 including all its cutting edge special effects. Donkey Kong Country, well, doesn’t. These days, DKC is just another middle of the road SNES platformer that looked better in 1994 than other middle of the road platformers, but it did leave a franchise with much better games in its wake, so it has that going for it. Take that, Plok.
Verdict: NO! But I want to talk about one last thing.

Donkey Kong Country: Competition Cartridge

My best score for Competition Cartridge. I couldn’t find what the highest scores were but there’s people who have scores in the 3,000s. Most of my runs also ended around the same spot, too.

There’s a version of Donkey Kong Country that acts as a spiritual successor to the 1990 Nintendo World Championships cartridge (which I reviewed in Tetris Forever: The Definitive Review’s bonus section). It’s really well made, too and actually the one aspect of Donkey Kong Country that unambiguously holds up. The timer stops during all transitions. There’s no overworld map, so finishing one stage takes you automatically to the next. They even redid what’s inside the bonus rooms to make the scoring for entering those rooms more logical, and the scoring system is, you know, fine. I actually had a lot more fun playing this than I did in anything in Nintendo World Championships: NES Edition. It’s fast-paced and genuinely exciting. So, why isn’t THIS on Switch Online? Unless Blockbuster Video’s IP holders also hold the publishing rights (don’t rule this out) I can’t think of any good reason. If you get a chance it’s worth checking out, though it’s probably not worth the $5,000 it fetches on Ebay.
Verdict for Donkey Kong Country: Competition Edition: YES!

The math checks out.