The Fall of Elena Temple (Review)

The Fall of Elena Temple
aka Elena Temple 2.

Platform: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, Playdate
Released April 30, 2024
Developed by GrimTalin

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Most games don’t require the most in-depth reviews. Take GrimTalin’s new indie sequel to their cult hit The Adventures of Elena Temple. That game was based on searching a fifty-screen map for treasure. This time around, Elena stars in a single-screen puzzler based mostly around the concept of falling. And it’s a really, really short game at only twenty stages. I don’t know exactly how much time I needed to finish them all, as I knocked out a few stages at a time, then did something else, then turned on the game and knocked out a few more, and so forth. The fact that I played The Fall of Elena Temple like that and still finished the whole experience in a single day says something. All in? It probably took me an hour-and-a-half. A really fun and perfectly acceptable ninety minutes, mind you. I can honestly say I was never bored. Unlike the previous Elena Temple adventure, this is 99% a puzzle game, with only the faintest hint of platforming, making this feel more like a spin-off than a proper sequel.

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This is especially true thanks to the graphics looking a bit like Game Boy and a bit like Playdate. The previous Elena Temple was themed around a game by a hapless game developer who kept making their flagship game for the wrong platforms. This time around, it’s more like “hey, remember Game Boy?” You can zoom as far in or out as you wish. I needed to zoom all the way in, but your mileage may vary. The object is to collect all the coins and then get to the exit. The big twist is that most rooms have an item that grants you the ability to undo your previous fall from a platform, only you get to keep any progress you made towards the whole coin collecting. It’s actually a pretty good twist, but it’s also one that puzzle aficionados should be able to reverse-engineer with only a bit of trial and error. It’s intuitive to use, at least. The amount of falls you’re able to undo varies from room to room, and each fall is numbered so you know where the undo button is sending you. It works wonderfully and it does make for a fun gimmick. In fact, it’s so fun that I was sorry when it wasn’t in a room.

Probably the best thing I can say about Elena 2 is that it successfully creates “THE BIG OVERWHELM” which is my term for puzzle games where, at first, a level seems so vast and multi-dimensional that you initially think “okay, maybe time I’ve met my match.” The beauty of THE BIG OVERWHELM is that it doesn’t require a complex puzzle, but only the appearance of one. Look at Portal, where none of the puzzles are THAT hard, no matter how the scenario is presented. The payoff is, when you actually finish the stage that looked so overwhelming at first glance, it’s that much sweeter. The Fall of Elena Temple pulls that off, which is pretty impressive for a minimalist puzzler. Plus, Elena 2 keeps throwing twists at you the entire length of the game. Crumbling floors. Disappearing/reappearing floors. Boots that let you skip a space. Hearts that let you absorb one hit of damage. Keys. Snakes. Spiders. All of it paced out so that there’s something new in nearly every level, right to the bitter end. Actually, past the bitter end. I couldn’t believe my eyes when a never previously used magnet showed up in one of the three bonus stages, and then even more stuff is added after that. Hey, finally “bonus stages” that live up to the name. I can’t stress enough: this is GrimTalin’s best game and one of the absolute best puzzlers I’ve played in the last few years. The Fall of Elena Temple is really good.

Even with THE BIG OVERWHELM, Elena’s levels are rarely actually as overwhelming as they look. Oh, and it took me about half the game for my brain to stop needing to tell itself “you can’t climb the vines, stupid.”

But, there’s really two big problems with the whole “stay fresh until the end” design mentality. The first is that, when you only have twenty levels, by necessity, the learning curve is going to be more like a gentle slope. You need the difficulty to scale, so you can’t do simple tutorial levels with the new items, but you also can’t really go completely bonkers with them either. Which, don’t get me wrong: I prefer Elena’s scaling to something like Gateways, where the learning curve was more like a straight wall made out of middle fingers (and mind you, that’s a game I liked a lot). But, there were also maybe, at most, only three or four levels that really had me scratching my head, and one of them was a “bonus” stage. The other big problem is that most of the ideas for special items are fun, but with the exception of the undo mechanic, they all feel underutilized. The twenty-three levels combined absolutely does not feel like it stretches the limits of what this puzzle formula can do. I suppose GrimTalin could do DLC, or a special edition later on like they did with the first Elena Temple. Hell, I’d be fine if they released level packs at $1 a pop for, say, ten new stages and just kept releasing new ones for quick cash, since that initial $3 felt underpriced to begin with. $3 for ninety damn fine minutes of puzzle goodness? What else are you going to do with $3? For me, I had to decide on a large lime slushie or this. I’m sure I made the right choice. Pretty sure. No, wait.. yea, I’m sure.
Verdict: YES!
$2.99 was parched in the making of this review.

Atari 50: The Definitive Review – Part One – The Atari Reimagined Games & Yars’ Revenge

Hey, have you heard of Atari 50? Well, I started reviewing it in November of 2022, then I actually read what I’d done and it SUCKED. It was my worst work ever by far, because the joy I felt playing this collection didn’t come across at all in what I was writing. That was late 2022. Now, it’s mid 2024, and I’ve decided to give another crack at it. I really need to, especially since Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include is one of my most popular features. For those games, read Parts One, Two, and Three, and E.T. got its own review! I figure before I do Part Four, I should really talk about the games Atari 50 DID include.

There’s a LOT of games in Atari 50. After a free expansion to the original collection hit, the total became 115, and there’s still a ton of games left they could add that require no license. Hell, they can even add Berzerk now that Atari owns it. Hopefully even more additions will arrive, especially the coin-op games. I’ve decided to break this up into four parts. Doing it this way allows me to take a break between parts if I get worn out.

Atari 50 costs $39.99. That means it has to generate $40 in value. Spoiler: it gets there easily. My usual compilation format is going to be anti-climatic, so let’s make it REALLY fun. Instead of setting a universal value on quality games, like say, $5 for a good game, any game that gets a YES! can be awarded any value. Besides, when I do the Atari 2600 section, I can’t very well say with a straight face that 3D Tic-Tac-Toe, a YES! game (yes, really) is worth $5. I need flexibility with Atari 50. So, any game can be awarded any value up to $40, the cost of Atari 50. And I’m going to start with the original games created by Digital Eclipse for this set.

I already reviewed LED memory tester Touch Me in LCD Games IX. It got a NO! Since it’s counted as one of the 115 games in Atari 50, I have to count it too. It’s just a typical memory game that isn’t remotely fun at all, though I’m happy it’s here to represent Atari’s attempts at handheld gaming before the Lynx. What would have been REALLY cool is if they could have included ports of unreleased Atari LCDs like the Cosmos system or the Super Breakout LCD that was designed by Tod “Pac-Man 2600” Frye. Digital Eclipse, I’m telling you: an LCD collection at $30 or under would probably do pretty good if the popularity of my LCD Games of the 1980s features are any indication. Verdict: NO! Scorecard: 0 YES! 1 NO!

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m friends with several people at Digital Eclipse and some of the designers of the games, old and new, included in Atari 50. That doesn’t factor into my reviews. They wouldn’t want to be my friend if it did.

We’re going alphabetically.

Haunted Houses
Platform: Atari Reimagined
Year: 2022
Designed by Dave Rees

This is cute and everything until you really stop and think about the fact that you’re playing as disembodied eyeballs.

When I review games, I dislike saying “it accomplished everything it set out to do.” It just seems wishy washy, doesn’t it? I’ve had people who are fans of a game I disliked ask me “did the developer accomplish everything they set out to do?” I usually fire back “I don’t know! I wasn’t there! Maybe they set out to make a totally different game and this was the best they could do?!” That’s not the case with Haunted Houses, where “the developer accomplished everything they set out to do” is spot-on. Well, presumably. If Dave Rees set out to climb Everest and this was the end result, fail. If he set out to remake the Atari 2600 classic Haunted House in 3D while retaining the gameplay and feel of the original, good job. It does just that. You’re a pair of eyeballs that can only pick up items if you’re actively using some kind of light. To win, you have to get the three randomly placed pieces of the urn to the front door.

For those not playing on Nintendo Switch, Haunted Houses offers a lot more meat. Stuff like finding all the radios, jump scares, etc, award you achievements. For people playing on Nintendo Switch, such as myself, the existence of all these things not only serve no point, but they actually create confusion. A sense that you’re missing something integral to finishing the game. It wasn’t until a couple hours of gameplay that I bothered looking up why all these things are there. It’s a massive oversight by Digital Eclipse to not include a checklist of all the hidden aspects of Haunted Mansions for Switch players. I have no objection to fake achievements in Nintendo games. You can’t just leave things in a game that make sense on other platforms without creating an alternative for everyone else, unless you want to generate a whole lot of confusion, FOMO, or both.

But, it’s not a one-to-one voxel remake, as there’s just enough modern gameplay mentality to prevent Haunted Houses from feeling like it’s shackled to gaming’s past. The biggest change is in the scoring system. The levels are set on a timer, but it’s not a “do or die” timer. If you run out of time, instead of dying, you just get paid less money at the end of the level. You lose more money if you run into the spiders and bats that knock your light out. Also, every single time you activate your light source, you lose $10. You have unlimited lights, but each one costs you. At the end of a stage, assuming you don’t run out of lives from getting caught by the ghosts, you’re assigned a letter grade based on how you did. The levels themselves are full of references to other Atari games and the occasional jump-scare. Old school, yet distinctly modern. THIS is how you pay tribute to classic games, folks.

Haunted Houses is full of references to all kinds of VCS games, including a few that aren’t in Atari 50. I don’t know if this is clever or cruel. I mean, hey, here’s the sprites from Space Invaders. Look, there they are! Enjoy them, because this is the closest you will come to playing Space Invaders in Atari 50. It’s not one of the 115 games included. I have thoughts on that, mostly based around how other game companies could admit that VCS ports hold little to no value outside a collection like Atari 50 and they could have done the gaming world a solid and come to terms on a cheap ass license for Atari and Digital Eclipse.

In a way, Haunted Houses feels like the type of oddball game that could have been a cult hit on the Nintendo 64. I just wish it had more levels. A dozen would be perfect. I’d settle for eight full-sized stages. How many levels does Haunted Houses actually have? Three. Four if you count the tutorial. Haunted Houses feels almost like a proof of concept (the glass half full point of view) or a novelty appetizer that’s set apart from the classic games main course of Atari 50 (the glass half empty point of view). Taking the glass half empty point of view, Haunted Houses is too married to abstract design. There’s moments where your torch goes out that are seemingly tied to jump scares that serve no purpose on Nintendo Switch, and it’s not always clear what you need to do to trigger them anyway!

For a voxel game, this is actually pretty eerie at times. I feel that deserves extra credit given the absurdity of this whole thing.

There’s also too many bats and spiders that tend to cluster-up with apparently no way to defend against them unless you’re holding the scroll, which causes them to ignore you. But, since you’re limited to carrying one item at a time like you are in the 2600 game, if you’re using the key or retrieving the urn pieces, the scroll doesn’t help you at all. It’s only after you beat the third stage that you gain access to a character that can attack the ghosts, but honestly this guy is so overpowered that it sort of nerfs the game. Level balance is an issue too. Assuming you count the tutorial as level one, I found the fourth and final level to be too easy. I beat it on my second attempt in a way that made it feel like pure luck. The third level is much bigger and more complex, and even level two took me a lot longer to finish. It’s even worse, because as the last stage, it assures that Haunted Houses ends on a massive let-down.

The ghosts are creepy, so mission accomplished there. You can even defeat them with the starting character if you have enough time to charge up your torch to create a temporary ring of magic. If you can lure the ghost into that ring, it dies. Well, I mean.. actually now that I think about it, it’s probably already dead. So you actually purgatorize the ghost.

If you take a glass half full view, Haunted Houses really does feel exactly like someone took Haunted House and cast a spell on it to make it a 3D game. A perfectly decent and quite entertaining 3D game. Nice camera. Good controls. Crisp graphics. It just works well. Not only does the formula feel authentically VCS-if-3D, but all the charm of the original game is retained. The premise is a little bit silly. The settings are a little bit spooky. The ghosts are a little bit frightening. This IS Haunted House, only 3D. And that’s funny because there’s been multiple attempts at creating follow-ups to Haunted House over the years. 2010 saw an Xbox Live version of Haunted House that’s still for sale that got middling-at-best reviews. Last year ANOTHER 3D remake of Haunted House that completely slipped under my radar, this time a roguelike, was unleashed upon the masses. Even indies have gotten in on the action, as 2005 saw a homebrewer create a sequel to Haunted House by doing a ROM hack of Adventure. That was apparently good enough to be included in Atari 50. I’ll be reviewing it when I get to the Atari 2600 games of the collection. I had no idea that Haunted House was so beloved that it would spawn that many remakes. That’s why it’s especially weird that the best remake of it is this throwaway gag game that’s part of a 100+ game collection.

Haunted Houses works really well as a co-op game. Well, assuming your partner remembers they can do something besides soiling themselves when they see a ghost.

I figured it was probably smart to keep Haunted Houses short, as there’s no way the novelty wouldn’t wear off by the time I finished the last level. Not only was I wrong, but I feel like Haunted Houses has so much left on the table that Atari really should commission a full $19.99 – $29.99 game based on this engine. It just works so well. That there’s only three real levels further hammers home the whole “proof of concept” vibe. It feels like there’s so much more you could do with this formula. Haunted hospitals, hedge mazes, schools, bunkers, etc. Increase the levels, make the set pieces just a little more interactive, and maybe add hidden trinkets to find to enhance the replay value, and Haunted Houses has potential to be a flagship game for the new era of Atari. It does one of the best jobs I’ve ever seen of replicating a specific 2D title’s gameplay in a 3D environment. The fact that it’s basically a +1 afterthought for a massive collection of games is heartbreaking enough, but the fact that it’s unlikely to advance beyond the three full levels we got is downright depressing. It would be like finding out the game that provided your favorite demo at E3 got cancelled. A painful punch in the gut. I suppose it’s fitting for a game where you play as a pair of eyeballs, because Haunted Houses has legs that we’re never going to see.
Verdict: YES! – $5 in value added to Atari 50
Scorecard: 1 YES!, 1 NO!
Total Value: $5

Neo Breakout
Platform: Atari Reimagined
Year: 2022
Designed by Jason Cirillo

Spoiler Alert: the classic Breakout games won’t be getting the most glowing of reviews. I respect the franchise’s contribution to gaming, but without authentic paddle controllers, they didn’t have a prayer of winning a YES! from me. That’s why I’m so completely shocked by Neo Breakout.

The first time I played Neo Breakout was the exact moment I couldn’t believe Atari didn’t sell the Reimagined games as their own collection. It runs neck-and-neck with Strikey Sisters as the best brick breaker I’ve ever played, and it does it without the aid of wacky power-ups. That alone is insanely impressive. Instead, the twists are mostly tied to the bricks themselves. The one that matters least to me is that you get bonus points by hitting identical colored bricks in a row. I just don’t have enough skill at aiming the ball to even think about utilizing that strategy deliberately. I will say that it’s really cool how the giant cube in the background changes colors to represent the active color you want to aim at in the chain. There’s also themed bricks. Some of them create new bricks if you hit them from the bottom, while another does the opposite and shatters bricks it shares a column with. There’s also crush bricks, which move in the opposite direction they’re struck and break any brick they run into. This includes the otherwise indestructible iron bricks. I’ll get to those in a little bit.

Playing the two player mode, alone or with family, was about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Nobody could keep a ball in play. In it, the object is to create enough bricks to reach the end zone of your opponent. Every time you miss the ball, the center line is moved closer to you, and hitting the center line creates new bricks on your opponent’s side. It’s a clever idea, but games of it tended to last FOREVER even when we did play well. Did I have fun? Not really, but thankfully this is a bonus mode to a bonus game. The single player stuff more than holds its own.

The other twist is that most of the levels in Neo Breakout have one of three kinds of game modifiers added to them. Speed modifiers only apply to rooms with a red ceiling. If the ball hits the ceiling, its speed increases dramatically. It only happens once per ball, but it lasts until the ball dies or you clear the room. Levels with a blue ceiling cause the paddle to shrink if the ball hits the ceiling. Again, it lasts until you die or the room is cleared. Finally, rooms where the wall gradually becomes yellow drop the blocks one row closer to you every time the yellow completely fills-in. Some of the rooms stack multiple modifiers. The concept of special rules for certain levels is well implemented and works to make Neo Breakout feel new and fresh in what should be a very tired genre. The restraint shown by designer Jason Cirillo to forgo even basic Arkanoid style power-ups, let alone the overpowered type of items typical for modern brick breakers, was astonishing. But, the end result is a game that’s better than any games that do.

Mostly fun room themes, too. There’s fifty-one levels, and only maybe three or four stink.

The closest Neo Breakout comes to having power-ups are the “whammy ball” and the “cavity balls.” The whammy ball is completely optional and activated entirely by the player. In fact, I beat Neo Breakout without knowing of its existence because I didn’t read the instructions. You’d think after Fantasia I’d have learned my lesson, but no. If you hit the left trigger just before the ball makes contact with the paddle, the ball becomes a fireball that travels at a very high velocity for the remainder of the stage, or the ball’s life. While the fireball is active, you score double the points. Meanwhile, only some levels feature cavity balls that can be released on the playfield. Once a ball stuck in a cavity enters a clearing where their trajectory is no longer trapped above their starting position, they become playable balls. The one time this failed, on the 41st stage, it was to my benefit. While the ball was technically free, I never once needed my paddle to play it, which I think technically means it should have remained an inactive ball that bounces harmlessly off the bricks. I don’t know what activated it, but it happened near the top of the screen. The downside was the ball kept bouncing at the same leisurely pace it would have if it had remained trapped. So yea, Neo Breakout is a bit glitchy, and I think most of the glitches are tied to the metal blocks. Call it a hunch, but every time something went wrong, they were there. The biggest offender of which was this:

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The gimmick with the iron bricks is that they’re indestructible. In theory, a line of them is a solid line. Except that obviously isn’t the case, as the ball literally bounced itself right through a gap that sure looks smaller than the ball itself. Now, I really, really like Neo Breakout, but hooooo boy did I have a tantrum when this happened. Granted, that was mostly on account of me trying to playfully act like I was going to throw my controller, only my timing was so far off that I popped myself right in the chin with my own controller. And mind you, this wasn’t the only time the ball behaved in weird ways around the iron bricks. It wasn’t rare at all for the ball to ricochet downward off the side of one when it was on an upward trajectory. In fact, that one happened constantly. Also, sometimes I finished a couple levels without breaking every brick. I’m not even sure what happened in those stages. When it happened a second time is when I finally consulted the instruction manual and found out about the Whammy ball. Finishing stages even though there’s still bricks left? Sometimes more than one? I found nothing, so I’m just going to assume the stages surrendered to my awesomeness. Stop snickering.

My hunch tells me the whammy ball was really included as a sneaky.. and clever.. way of helping lessen “last mother f’n brick syndrome” that’s common to the genre. That’s because the activating hit travels upward in a straight angle, making it the easiest shot to aim in the game. It’s not an automatic way of eliminating an annoyingly-placed final brick, as you still have to get the rebound directly under it. But, just having it as an option I found worked well for eliminating the often sloggy end of stage moments that plague brick breakers. Gosh, how I wish I had read the book, as this would have come in handy in the later stages.

Okay, so Neo Breakout is slightly unstable, but hey, so am I and I’m doing pretty good, and so is Neo Breakout! Technically, it’s a bonus throw-in for a retro game collection anyway. But, it’s also my choice for the best of the Digital Eclipse originals in Atari 50. It even has hidden value in the form of Double Neo Breakout. On the second title screen, press the Y button (or presumably the square button on PlayStation) until you hear a chime, and you get a double paddle AND get to play two balls at once. It’s not even a throwaway extra, either. It’s a genuinely fun experience that plays just slightly different enough to be worth everyone checking out once. It’s seriously a lot of fun. All of Neo Breakout is a lot of fun.

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The only part I didn’t enjoy was the versus mode, where my fun was muted by the fact that nobody in my family could keep the ball alive (including myself). Otherwise, Neo Breakout is one of my favorite games in Atari 50. It helps that the controls are some of the most intuitive non-dial controls the genre has ever seen. There’s even dual-stick gameplay, as the left stick moves the paddle at a normal speed while the right stick moves it at super sensitive high speed. If I have to complain about something, it’s that the right stick is too fast and there’s no option to adjust it. Unless I was using it to catch a rebound next to a wall, the right stick was too dangerous for me to use and led to overshooting more than it was actually helpful. Thankfully, all other options are available. You can adjust the main paddle’s sensitivity to find your comfort zone, and if you wish, you can set the paddle to return to the center of the playfield when you release the stick. So, yea, rough and glitchy as it can be, Neo Breakout feels like a true love letter to the Breakout franchise. It’s the rare franchise tribute that’s authentically, no doubt about it tied to the series, but in a way that feels totally new and modern. I literally can’t believe this is part of Atari 50. It could easily have been sold all on its own. Then again, that’s true of most of these Digital Eclipse games.
Verdict: YES! – $15 in value added to Atari 50.
Scorecard: 2 YES!, 1 NO!
Total Value: $20

Quadratank
Platform: Atari Reimagined
Year: 2022
Designed by Mike Mika

You can do any combination of AI or human players. You can even do four AI, but the instruction book says to please not use it for betting. Pssh, you ain’t the boss of me. $20 on ole’ bluey!

I didn’t get the best possible multiplayer experience out of Quadratank. It wasn’t a matter of finding players. I had my nieces and nephew, ages 8 to 12, along with my sister, a couple of her friends, and my parents. Everyone but my dad and I spent the entire game whining about how hard it was to control the tank. If you grew up with an Atari 2600 and put a lot of time into Combat, you probably won’t have any problem steering in Quadratank. For everyone else, yea, this is pretty tough to get the hang of. There’s even three control schemes that you can switch on the fly with the simple press of a button. While that sounds great in theory, when you’re playing with disinterested children or grown-ups who act like children, it’s inevitable they’ll accidentally press the “change controls” button when they don’t mean to and then whine even more about how tough the controls are. Quadratank is also pretty limited in terms of flexibility. Three maps, two gameplay modes (three if you count two-on-two combat and two-on-two capture the flag separately), and two types of terrain: normal and icy. The most important options are the starting weapons, which includes ricochet shots. I highly recommend that mode. In fact, I wish I had turned that on at the start. It was the final mode we tried for this review and it was closest the larger group came to having a good time. But, by that point everyone had already made up their minds that Quandratank wasn’t for them.

There’s only three arenas as far as I can tell, with only two modes. If there’s unlockables, besides being able to unlock Combat Two in the Atari 50 library through highly convoluted means, I ain’t found them.

Back in 2022, *I* had a good time playing Quadratank, but it’s worth noting that it was one of three party games my family played that month, along with indie hits Hidden in Plain Sight and Chompy Chomp Chomp Party. Since then, we’ve played HiPS a dozen or more times. We even broke it out for our Super Bowl party earlier this year, and Chompy has gotten a replay or two. The one Christmas 2022 game nobody wanted to touch again, including me, was Quadratank. In my case, it wasn’t because I disliked the game so much as it’s no fun to play a game where everyone else never stops bitching. When we busted out video games to pass the time this last Christmas Eve, when everyone was both excited and feeling festive, my mother and some of the kids specifically said “not the tank one!” So, you can imagine how everyone reacted on a Friday in 2024 when I all but begged for thirty minutes so that I could write a game review none of them care about for a blog they don’t read.

The only two games that even got the faintest hint of smiles from the heartless jerks I was playing with were ricocheting shots and rockets & lasers.. ON ICE. Of course, those two modes were pure chaos. That’s always fun even if it’s not exactly elegant gameplay. Congratulations are in order to Mike for creating a game where slippery ice improves the game.

Two years later and nothing changed. I enjoyed playing Quadratank. My father had a good time. Everyone else whined about how hard it was to control. It’s not that we didn’t have ANY fun. Again, I made the mistake of starting with the most basic default settings. Bad move on my part. But, even with the settings at their wackiness, the amusement came from the sheer chaos, and not the merits of the gameplay. Sixteen months after the game didn’t go over as well as I expected it would, and even with the kids being almost a year-and-a-half older, history repeated itself. I don’t think it’s entirely on the age group, either. Quadratank DOES have problems, the biggest of which is there’s a very sharp learning curve to the controls for anyone not used to tank games. Another issue is that it’s easy to lose your place in the mayhem. Despite that complaint, it’s a shame this couldn’t be an eight player game. My niece astutely pointed out that the arenas are too big for only four players, and she’s right! Sure, that prevents you from being spawn-killed, but it also causes the action to be too stop-and-go. Either way, *I* still like Quadratank, but it’s got a very specific audience and apparently I don’t have that audience to play with. More than any other Digital Eclipse original in Atari 50, Quadratank feels like a bonus extra instead of a legitimate featured game, and that’s perfectly fine in a set like this.
Verdict: YES! – $1 in value added to Atari 50.
Scorecard: 3 YES!, 1 NO!
Total Value: $21

Swordquest: Airworld
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 2022
Designed by Dave Rees

For what it’s worth to Dave Rees, this is the hardest game to review in my nearly thirteen years of doing this blog. Remember the whole “achieved what it set out to do?” thing I talked about with Haunted Houses? This is the dark side of that.

Swordquest was meant to be the ultimate video game contest that combined the efforts of three Warner Bros. subsidiaries: Atari, DC Comics, and the newly acquired (as in 1980) Franklin Mint. The plan was to create four action-adventure-puzzle games in the Swordquest series, with each game getting bundled with a DC comic book. Players would find clues in the games that pointed to pages in the comic that contained different clues that players would use to solve an ultimate puzzle. The basic exploration is the same in all four games: a series of interconnected rooms based on mysticism themes. Some of the rooms had mini-games that needed to be completed once. BUT, the real gameplay was basically picking up junk from one room and dropping it in another room. If you dropped the junk in the right room, it would point you at a specific page in the comic book. The gameplay was as abstract as you can get, but if you could sort it all out and mail in the correct answer, you would be invited to come to Atari’s HQ to compete with other correct guessers in a specialized version of the game. The ultimate winner of each individual game’s final contest would win corporeal junk work $25,000. Then, the four winners would come together and compete for a jewel-encrusted, gold-handled sword worth $50,000. Still with me? Okay, here’s where it goes nuts.

Do you know what I think is the strangest part of all of this? The Swordquest comic books are actually pretty dang good. That’s especially surprising, given the fact that other Atari comics, like the one included with Yars’ Revenge, were TERRIBLE. For Swordquest, all three comics that were released are in Atari 50, inside each game’s instruction manual. The writing is on-par with DC’s output from this time, maybe even a little better, and the art is top notch. Even Waterworld (panels of which are pictured above), the one that you’d expect to be phoned-in, is really high quality for this time frame. Sadly, while we got the video game conclusion to this, we never will get the comic book conclusion, as DC comics apparently never even got to the writing/inking part, and creating a new comic from the ground up was a bridge too far for Digital Eclipse. I can’t say I blame them. Unless they hired actual comic artists, it would never live up to the expectations. Strangely, people can make convincing Atari games in the 2020s, but comics that feel distinctly “80s” are a bit of a lost art form.

For the first game, Earthworld, eight people got the correct answer and were flown to Atari. For the second game, Fireworld, so many people got it right that Atari had to issue homework as a tie breaker. I’m not even joking. The seventy-three players who got the right answer were told to write an essay on what they liked about Swordquest: Fireworld. From those essays, Atari selected the fifty entries most likely to be able to afford to lawyer-up who had the best essay on the game, scout’s honor. Then came Waterworld, and much like the Kevin Costner movie of the same name, everything went to hell. By this point, it was 1984, the video game industry had completely collapsed, and one of the guys who helped create the Marlboro Man was now in charge of Atari. That must have been quite the change for him, going from customers dying from his product to the company itself dying because of the product.

I’ll be reviewing the other three Swordquest games when I get to Atari 50’s 2600 games. God help me.

Warner Bros., who was looking to dump Atari, wanted to cancel the contest. But, their lawyers said the Waterworld contest had to go forward because they already advertised for the specific game’s release and accompanying contest. So, Atari sold Waterworld only via mail order to Atari Club members. That’s why it’s a sought-after rarity among collectors today that’s rated a 9 out of 10 in rarity by AtariAge, who will be proud to hear Google’s spell check knew that their name is one word: AtariAge. According to my Atari collector friends (hi Steve!), people whose entire hobby is seeking out finding games at yard sales and junk stores would be considered incredibly lucky to find one game rated a 9 out of 10 without using the internet.. well, ever. So, in the case of Swordquest: Waterworld, we’re talking VERY few copies circulating, then and now. And yet, it somehow got even worse. While the Waterworld contest was considered active, Atari was sold to Commodore founder Jack Tramiel, who again tried to get out of the contest. In fact, apparently people who entered the contest were told they were ineligible, but once again, the lawyers said “NO!” Allegedly, the Waterworld contest was held in secret and a winner secretly crowned.. literally. They won a crown. The remaining contest could legally be cancelled with each of the prior winners and the Waterworld finalists accepting cash buy-outs instead of competing for the grand prize sword. Of the five gaudy prizes created by the Franklin Mint for this epic disaster, only one is still believed to exist. What a fiasco.

If you want to learn more, including the ultimate fate of the prizes, go here or here.

I’m not a lawyer, but TECHNICALLY didn’t they advertise a four game contest? It sure seems like it. I know there were probably disclaimers up the wazoo. Not that it matters, for reasons I’m about to get into.

Apparently the fourth and final Swordquest game was something of an urban legend in Atari circles. Despite being probably the most sought-after prototype of all time, no Swordquest Airworld prototype has ever been found. Given the sheer volume of unreleased Atari 2600 games that have been discovered over the years, combined with all the work-in-progress builds of released games, if Airworld hasn’t been found yet, it’s likely that no prototype exists at all. While Tod Frye says he started work on it, not even so much as a screenshot exists. Only concept art for the box, and nothing more. Knowing Digital Eclipse, if they had anything to work with, they would have said so. They didn’t, so for Atari 50, they created a whole new Swordquest: Airworld from the ground up, keeping only the promised theme of the game. Each of the Swordquest games are based on mysticism. Airworld uses the I Ching, just like how Earthworld used the Zodiac, Fireworld the Tree of Life, and Waterworld chakras. The end result is a monster-sized version of Swordquest that dwarfs the other three combined, with a map that looks like this:

The biggest difference, besides the girth, is that there’s no comic book to reference clues this time. Instead, Airworld gives players a very detailed instruction manual that presents players with sixty-four riddles; one for each room, and fifty-six items, some of which there’s duplicates of. You’ll want a pen & paper when playing this game, or you can open up your phone and take notes like we did. Sometimes, the clues are outright spelled out for you. The clue for Room #25: Innocence is “let simple and natural forces guide you, like a kite on the wind.” One of the items is a kite, so obviously you’re not using the upper jaw bone in that room. To use the items, you really just pick them up when you find them and put them down in the corresponding room. You can hold five items at a time. If you drop the correct item(s) inside the correct room, instead of being told which comic book page to look up, you’re given the hexagram for a different room. It looks like this:

Like previous Swordquest games, sometimes rooms will have minigame challenges that must be completed in order to get all the junk in the room. If a room does have a minigame, once you’ve completed it (and gotten all the coins out of it if there are coins), you don’t have to play it again for that room. There’s four minigames in total, all of which repeat several times with varying degrees of difficulty, and three of which play and control a lot like the 2010s unfathomable fad hit Flappy Bird. In the case of one of the games, Tianma’s Flight, it really is Flappy Bird with what feels like a slightly oversized character sprite. In it, you move horizontally and have to continuously flap your wings while avoiding barriers. A couple of these levels are actually pretty dang tough. The hardest one took us probably close to twenty attempts to finish. If you fall or collide with a barrier, you have to start over.

Tianma’s Flight. Actually, it’s one of the better Flappy Bird-likes (please don’t use the term “clone”) I’ve played. It helps that, by being part of a larger game, this version of Flappy actually feels like it has stakes. Plus, each round of it is kept short.

Another game, Draconic Descent, has you flapping while moving downward, though this time you can drop pegasus pee underneath you. Barriers get in the way that you have to shoot to remove, all while stationary dragons shoot fireballs across the screen. While you can take out the dragons with a single dribble of pee pee, you don’t have to. In fact, many times I accidentally fell several stories, bypassing all the obstacles. Mind you, you actually do have to collect the coins (if there are any) in each stage, so there’s some incentive to keep flapping and not just dive blindly towards the unseen goal.  If you get shot, or if you miss the exit, you have to restart from the beginning.

Draconic Descent was the easiest of the four minigames in Airworld. It’s not even close.

The final of the Flappy-likes, and the bane of my existence, is Atmospheric Ascent. In it, you have to fly upward. If you touch anything, you temporarily lose your ability to flap. It’s really a cross-the-road style game where sometimes you get very little clearance to advance. On top of that, sometimes the channels of obstacles are so close together that it’s hard to keep a rhythm of flapping that keeps you between them while you wait for an opening. If you touch anything, you could get stun-locked by multiple rows of clouds or birds or whatever and end up falling all the way to the bottom. One round of this took me and my father THIRTY MINUTES to finish. That was totally our fault for having the wrong strategy, but by time it was over, my hands were sore and I was in a foul mood. A big part of the problem is that none of the games scale “naturally.” You repeat each of the games multiple times, BUT, the difficulty of each one is tied to the room it’s in, not the order you played it. Or maybe it’s tied to the numerical order of the rooms, which are scrambled up, and I didn’t notice. I could be wrong, but either way, I’d prefer if the first time you played a game, no matter which room it’s tied to, you played the easiest version, then the next one up, etc, etc. None of the three Flappy Bird-like games are particularly fun, but Swordquest isn’t exactly famous for fun minigames so at least it’s true to the source material.

Oh how I hated Atmospheric Ascent. You do want to sort of move along with the scrolling obstacles, but the timing is super hard. It’s akin to trying to thread a moving needle while pumping the fingers holding the thread up and down.

Storm Siege, the best of the four minigames, and indeed the best minigame ever in the Swordquest franchise, is a clever take on Space Invaders. It’s really just Space Invaders, but with a twist that actually works wonderfully for adding stakes and plenty of close calls. As you shoot the targets on the playfield, instead of UFOs scrolling across the top for bonus points, clouds drift from left to right. Every-other cloud is a rain cloud, and if you don’t shoot it fast enough, it shoots lightning. You have a protective barrier, but it can only take so many lightning strikes before it wears off. You have to clear the entire playfield of all the targets before the enemies reach the bottom OR before the lightning strikes the ground. This reminded me a lot of From Below, which is just plain old ordinary Tetris where a tentacle pokes the stacked blocks up sometimes. It’s the smallest of changes, yet that change yields massive gameplay dividends. The same goes for Storm Siege’s cloud/force field formula. That one change amplifies the excitement far beyond what such a small change should do. If Digital Eclipse does further expansions to Atari 50, they should consider expanding this to a full game with scoring.

Oh and you can only shoot one bullet at a time. It makes you kick yourself every time you miss.

So the minigames went 1 for 4, but the overall puzzle in Airworld isn’t bad. It’s also not as good as I remembered from my 2022 play session. I’ve now finished it twice, and by far my biggest complaint is all the red herrings in it. The majority of the items have no purpose, but all sixty-four rooms have riddles, and since we’re using fortune cookie logic, there’s really no way to tell what is a room that requires you to drop items in it and which are just there to distract you. In reality, only a little over a quarter of the sixty-four rooms are part of the item-dropping puzzle. Some of the “red herrings” have gameplay implications if you’re holding them when you enter a minigame, but if you play this blindly, it’s not like you can replay the minigames (I don’t think at least) to experiment. The only way to really do it is to purposely lose levels and fall back to the main puzzle, then swap the item you’re holding one at a time. There’s fifty-six items! It’s not practical.. though I can probably guess one of them in retrospect.

Dear Atari: I want my $25,000 Philosopher Stone. I mean, I did sort of write an essay on all the reasons I like Airworld AND Atari 50. So, do I win? No? Crud. Eh, it was worth a shot.

Like I said at the beginning, this is the hardest review I’ve ever had to do. At its best, Airworld offers the same type of “okay, I get it, ta-da” and high-fives all around enjoyment of escape rooms. But, the actual solution is such a fraction of the bigger game that it might be the least tight puzzle of this type ever made. Yes, the other Swordquest games had false clues and red herrings, but it’s taken to such an extreme here. Going back to the escape room analogy, which isn’t a perfect analogy in Airworld’s case as there’s no time limit, but, if I did an escape room where there were sixty-four puzzles but only sixteen were actually valuable for getting out of the room, me and my whole family would be f*cking furious. That’s not good puzzle design. That’s just dirty pool. Do you know how we beat the game? BOTH TIMES? While trying to find the rooms to drop the stuff in, we accidentally triggered a previously unheard audio cue that you’ve stepped in the room that’s the start of the final pathway to victory. That’s when we stopped trying to find what room the boomerang goes in and checked our notes, and victory happened about 15-20 minutes later. We stumbled upon the final sequence. Twice. At least we have the excuse of the two sessions taking place sixteen months apart, but I could have sworn there weren’t as many red herrings as there were. There’s too many.

UPDATE: So, the 64 riddles thing is legitimately part of the I Ching itself. So, while I still stay firm on the belief that it’s inevitable players will go on wild goose chase, Atari and Digital Eclipse stayed true to the nature of the theme itself. Commendable. Infuriating, but commendable.

For all my bitching, seriously, this was a surreal, almost magical experience. I can’t imagine what this would mean for fans of Swordquest. Airworld proves how much Digital Eclipse loves its audience, because folks, THIS is a love letter.

So, how the heck do I review this? First off, if you’re a genuine, no BS fan of the original Swordquest games.. not someone who played with them for like two minutes after watching the Angry Video Game Nerd’s episode but an actual FAN who got deeply into solving the puzzles.. ignore everything I’ve said. FOR YOU, putting hypothetical value on a priceless experience is pointless. If you really love Swordquest, Atari 50 is worth buying just for Swordquest: Airworld. Even without the comic book, it’s everything you’ve wanted for forty years now. There’s even an option to unsmoothen (I don’t care what my spell check says, because that’s a word, dagnabit) the HD graphics and add VCS jank if you so wish. For everyone else.. eh, it’s a lot better than any of the three Swordquest games Atari put out in the 80s, but beyond that, it’s give a little, take a little. GIVE: you actually can logic-out the riddles. TAKE: only 1 of the 4 minigames is fun. GIVE: that goes up if you’re a big Flappy Birds fan. TAKE: it goes down quite a lot if you hate Flappy Bird. GIVE: All the charm of an authentic Atari-developed VCS game is here and beautiful. TAKE: except there’s no DC comic tie-in. GIVE: My Atari-loving father and I had a good time. TAKE: my non-fan mother and sister thought we were out of our minds. It’s my blog, and while I’m not a fan of Swordquest at all, I enjoyed the experience a little more than the downtime that frustrated me. Airworld is a dream game. Just not my dream game.
Verdict: YES! – $5 in value added to Atari 50
Scorecard: 4 YES!, 1 NO!
Total Value: $26

VCTR-SCTR
Platform: Atari Reimagined
Year: 2022
Designed by Jeremy Williams

This is not a game that lends itself to screenshots.

I have a feeling this is going to be like Undertale, where even though I really like the game, fans of it will be livid with me for not liking it as much as them. VCTR-SCTR is a tribute to Atari’s vector graphics output. It’s also the most arcadey-game in the Atari Reimagined lineup, for better and for worse. The idea is you play a sequence of snippets of Atari vector classics. There’s four games that go in the following sequence: you have to clear a screen in Asteroids, land a Lunar Lander, clear out all the UFOs in a shooter that combines aspects of vector games not included in Atari 50 such as Speed Freaks and Battlezone, then finally clear out all the Flippers (the red x-shaped things) in Tempest. Once you complete a cycle, a new cycle at a higher difficulty immediately begins. Getting the biggest problem out of the way: making Lunar Lander part of this was incredibly misguided. Mind you, I’m a really big Lunar Lander fan. It’s one of my favorite coin-ops ever, but it does not fit-in at all with VCTR-SCTR.

And I’m not even factoring the tethered mode into that statement. VCTR-SCTR can be played two ways: a single ship or two ships tethered. In the solo mode, the sequence of games is spot-on in terms of difficulty: Asteroids first, Lunar second, VCTR-SHMP third, and Tempest fourth. That sequence makes NO sense for the tethered mode, where Lunar Lander is easily the hardest of the four games. The green ship has no thruster. You have to land the dead weight on a separate platform. In the tethered mode, Lunar Lander should have been the fourth game in the sequence. No doubt about it.

Sometimes having games feature a wildly-shifting tone works. It doesn’t work here at all. Having three very intense shooting sections broken up by a game that’s about finesse and conservation is akin to placing a braking section on a roller coaster after the initial 80 mph drop. Then, after thirty seconds doing 10 mph along the ground, following it with a launched 80 mph section to complete the rest of the track. Nobody would do that, because it wouldn’t be fun. The Lunar Lander segment is just plain not compatible with the other games. Even more problematic is that it doesn’t yield enough points to provide any stakes at all. It’s as close to dead air as I’ve seen in any action game. Again, Lunar Lander is one of my favs, but I wouldn’t want it to show up in the middle of a game of Asteroids or Tempest, which is exactly what this does. I’m certain that the huge fanbase of VCTR-SCTR is going to be furious with me for stating that, but sorry, they’re just plain wrong. The third segment, a new game designed just for this, proves that Jeremy has the chops to come up with something that fits-in with the other three games better.

There’s two co-op options, one of which tethers the players together. Ironic for a game that involves shackling players to each-other, it’s bound to drive people apart. Also, worth noting is that the children who I could barely get to play Quadratank *HATED* VCTR-SCTR because of the Lunar Lander section, which they never got past. Not once. I tried to calmly and gently explain the concept of easing on the gas, conserving fuel, and feathering the analog sticks. They didn’t care, got frustrated faster than I thought humanly possible and quit almost immediately. I asked one of them how on Earth he could recreate set pieces from Attack on Titan in Minecraft but he couldn’t grasp the concept of barely touching the analog stick. I’ve never feared for a coming generation more than I did after trying to explain Lunar Lander to kids. Good lord, the planet is so screwed in thirty to forty years.

The rest of the game is brilliant. It works as a homage to an era of gaming that never got its due. This is especially true of the third segment that I’ve dubbed VCTR-SHMP. The blistering speed it cuts, along with the close calls and near misses that comes from dodging enemy fire, made for one of the most exciting games I’ve ever played. So good is the third segment that I’m kind of bummed that it didn’t get further expanded into its own game. Fans of VCTR-SCTR will be REALLY pissed at me for saying that I almost wish it had been the whole game. Seriously! As much as I enjoyed the Asteroids and Tempest segments, I’ve played those games. They’re in Atari 50, along with Lunar Lander. The third segment is one of those “it’s like every arcade game you’ve played and no game you’ve ever played before” type of situations. I haven’t played a game like that since Donut Dodo, which I loved! If the third segment was ALL of VCTR-SCTR, I honestly don’t think I would have missed the other three segments at all. That’s why it’s kind of sad that it’s here in Atari 50, where the concept is likely to never be expanded upon. If you did this same game, with more enemies and obstacles, dare I say it could be an action game of the decade contender.

To be honest, I wasn’t in love with the Tempest or Asteroids segments either. Oh, they’re great here, but that’s because they’re great by themselves. Which anyone would know since they can play them by themselves in Atari 50. At this point, I’ve played Asteroids and Tempest to death, and I’m not even of the Golden Age of Arcades generation. I’m going to be 35 in three months. I missed the arcade era altogether. I imagine people older than me are going to have put even more time into VCTR-SCTR’s inspirations. Even though I love VCTR-SCTR, the only standout sequence is the one created just for it. I want a lot more of it.

As much as I’ll daydream about a game that will likely never exist, I really did have a blast with VCTR-SCTR. The only big thing missing from it is online leaderboards. Yea yea, they didn’t have those in the good ‘ole days. Well, they didn’t have the internet or consoles more powerful than all the world’s Atari 2600s combined, either. If it would have bumped the price of Atari 50 by $10 or even $20, hell, this is the greatest game collection ever, and I have a feeling such a price hike would not have affected the sales at all. Besides, challenging for high scores is the whole point, right? Then again, my best score was just under 100,000. I never got past the fifth wave. Oh, and do you know what else is missing that would be perfect for this type of game? A time attack mode. It’s such a no-brainer that I’m stunned that’s not an option. Not that it NEEDED it, obviously. The best thing I can say about VCTR-SCTR is I told myself I would play this one a couple hours at most. I ended up spending a whole day on it, dying and dying and dying, but trying and trying and trying. And, like so many of these Atari Reimagined games, the passion held by the developer for this type of game is loud and clear.
Verdict: YES! – $10 in value added to Atari 50
Scorecard: 5 YES! 1 NO!
Total Value: $36

Yars’ Revenge: Enhanced
Platform: Atari Reimagined
Year: 2022
Designed by Mike Mika

And hell, I might as well do the original while I’m at it since it’s (almost) the same game.

Yars’ Revenge
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Howard Scott Warshaw

This is one of those situations where I had to merge two separate screenshots in order to make one that represents the appearance of the game. You see, Atari can’t run that many sprites at the same time, so it cheats by having one frame load half the objects and the next frame holding the other half. If an Atari game has flicker, that’s the reason why, and it makes taking screenshots of Atari games a pain in the ass that creates extra work for me to do the review. It’s even worse when you take clips on Nintendo Switch, as it skips every-other frame. That means a video of Atari gameplay taken on Switch looks like half the content is missing.

Atari fans might want to have a paper bag handy to breathe into. Ready? Yars’ Revenge is a teeny tiny bit overrated. STOP! Deep breaths. Calm. It’s okay! We’ll get through this! Listen, Yars’ Revenge is also a lot of fun and certainly one of the best.. if not THE best.. arcade-style games on the 2600. It’s possible to be both fun AND overrated. There’s no game that’s true of more than Yars’ Revenge. Fans talk about it like it arrived on our planet alongside baby Jesus, who was holding the polio vaccine in one hand and the first loaf of sliced bread in the other. Of all the games to get that kind of reverence, why this one? I like Yars’ Revenge a lot, but I also don’t get why it’s practically been deified. It’s a perfectly fine arcade-style shooter. Smack your bug against the force field of the enemy to charge up a cannon. Then, line-up with the enemy and fire the cannon, with the twist being you have to duck out of the way of your own projectile after firing it. It’s a good idea and it works wonderfully. It makes for a relatively intense experience, especially given the hardware limitations at play here. It almost feels like you’re playing a game of chicken with the enemy since you have to run up and dry hump the barrier around it.

The funny thing is, Yars’ Revenge wasn’t even going to exist. It started life as a licensed game based on the Cinematronics (of Dragon’s Lair fame) vector graphics hit Star Castle. The problem was, Howard Scott Warshaw determined the 2600 could never create a port that lived up to the arcade game. Some tinkering later, and a brand new hall of famer was born. Also, the name is a pun on then Atari president Ray Kassar. Y-A-R/R-A-Y, and the instruction manual says the game is set in the Razak system. R-A-Z-A-K/K-A-S-S-A-R. Ray Kassar’s Revenge.. on Activision’s designers. Yes, really, the name and storyline are petty in-jokes because some of Atari’s best game designers left to become millionaires instead of making $26K a year and getting no credit and heartless “bonuses” like a free frozen turkey because your game was a best seller. Let petty vindictiveness rule the day!

There’s only two levels that repeat on harder difficulties each cycle, which is a bit of a bummer, but this was the Atari 2600 era so it’s to be expected. The replay value comes in the form of a couple extra modes. I’d never played mode 6 before, aka Ultimate Yars’. I’m so happy I did, as this is easily the best way to play the game. In it, instead of charging up the cannon just by bouncing off (“eating”) the force field, now the cannon operates on a scoring system. You have to collect five units of power called TRONS by eating the shield (1 unit per cell), touching the enemy, aka the “Qotile” (2 units) or catching your own missed cannon blast when it ricochets off the shield (4 units). Oh, and yea, in this mode, your cannon ricochets off the shield. The fastest way to charge-up unwatchable Jeff Bridges sci-fi movies is by touching the enemy itself. If basic mode Yars’ feels like a game of chicken, Ultimate Yars’ feels like when Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck plant a big, sloppy, sarcastic kiss on Elmer Fudd before hopping away, taunting him. Even better is you can bank more TRON points than the cannon needs, giving you multiple shots at the Qotile. Finally, to load up a cannon shot, you just have to touch the left border of the screen. I loved this mode. And I really like Yars’ Revenge. It’s fun. One the best ever? I’ll settle for one of the best games from this era, but even playing Ultimate Yars’ in the enhanced version, it got old quickly. In 2024, Yars’ is instead the type of game I’d play with a few minutes to kill. Hey, the world needs those games too.

Now here’s the part where the fans REALLY get angry..

As for the Enhanced edition, it’s literally the same game. No new levels. No new modes. It’s supposed to be a 1 to 1 remake of the 2600 game that even uses the same code. But, it doesn’t feel the same. Maybe it’s just the placebo effect and I’m imagining things, but Yars’ Enhanced sure feels like it plays faster, especially when it comes to the swirly attack of Qotile and your own cannon blasts. Because of this, the gameplay feels much more intense, and I loved it. And that’s hardly the only upgrade. For a game saturated in so much bloom that it’s like playing video games in the middle of a nuclear explosion, oddly enough, I ultimately prefer the enhanced edition to the 2600 original because I found it much easier to see what was happening. In the 2600 version, by far my most common reason for dying.. besides shooting myself in the ass with my own cannon.. was getting killed by the little dot that slowly stalks you. I was constantly losing it when it crawled into the neutral zone in the middle of the screen.

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In Enhanced, the dot is replaced by a galactic space triops that’s just plain easier to track. Visibility matters, and being able to see what’s going to kill you makes games more fun. Plus, the score and your remaining lives are on the screen, and if you play Ultimate Yars’, the amount of cannon shots you have is displayed on the bottom. So, Enhanced is the clear winner for me. Besides, there’s nothing inherently sacred about the original Yars. It’s just the old version. It only looks the way it does not because of artistic merit but because that was the literal best the console was capable of doing in that era. If you like it more, hey, whatever floats your boat. Given that Atari recently put out another remake of Yars’ that offers 30 waves, I’m fine with this upgrade to the 2600 game staying true to the original. In fact, Mike did such a good job that the only real downside is that Atari 50 didn’t have more enhanced 2600 classics like this. Maybe Atari 100 will, and that’s assuming I live to be 83. Finally, an excuse to start doing CrossFit.
Verdict for Yars’ Revenge for the Atari 2600: YES! – $3 in value added to Atari 50.
Verdict for Yars’ Revenge Enhanced: YES! – $10 in value added to Atari 50.
Scorecard: 7 YES!, 1 NO!
Total Value: $49

As I suspected, the original games by themselves are worth more than the price of admission alone. And to think, we’re just getting started. Next time: the coin-ops of Atari 50!

We ♥ Katamari: REROLL (Review)

We Katamari: REROLL
aka We Love Katamari: REROLL
First Released June 2, 2023
We Katamari First Released July 6, 2005
Developed by Namco & Now Production
Published by Namco
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, PlayStation, Steam
Version Played: Xbox Series X

I needed a break from pinball, saw this was on sale, and bought it. I didn’t expect to do this review, but I have a lot to say.

I think everyone said “I have to play that!” the first time they saw a picture or a video of Katamari Damacy. It wasn’t even originally going to come out in America. Too weird. Too Japanese. But, it got a lot of attention at a workshop at Game Developers Conference and the press was swooning over it, so Namco rolled the dice. The next thing you know, it’s a global hit that has spawned multiple sequels. Granted, sequels that have almost none of the charm of the first one, but as long as you avoided the handheld spin-offs, the sequels all played better and had more to do. So when I played Katamari Damacy REROLL a while back, I remember thinking it wasn’t very good as far as remasters go. I was also perplexed as to why they went with the original game when an HD remastering of Katamari Forever, an all-encompassing tribute to the franchise, would have made a LOT more sense. The first game felt like a proof of concept that was short and limited, while the series started to really get good with We Katamari. Yes, there’s more than just a graphic overhaul, but as a “remastering” that doesn’t remaster gameplay, whatever annoyances were left intact are now especially annoying because gaming has come a long way. It took a while, but the second Katamari game finally got its REROLL, and this one is much better, but only because it feels a tiny bit less lazy. Only a tiny bit, as the problems are still amplified by virtue of age.

We Katamari: REROLL is the first collectathon in forever that I 100%ed. I suppose that says more about its quality than any review I could write. Just make sure to put bandages on your thumbs BEFORE playing instead of waiting for after. Also, 100% doesn’t mean I collected a million roses or got 100% of the items, but rather I found all the cousins and the hidden Namco stickers.

If you’ve somehow never played a Katamari game, the concept is simple: you control a tiny prince who rolls a ball that everything sticks to.. eventually. The catch is that the ball can only roll-up things smaller than it, but as the ball grows, so does the range of stuff you can roll-up. In preset-benchmarks, the ball “levels-up” and the world becomes smaller, giving you all new junk to collect. You start by rolling up things like paperclips and eventually reach the point where you’re pulling up skyscrapers and landmasses (though that really only happens in the final basic level). Using dual stick tank controls, you have to cause the end of the world, more or less. Oh, the world will be fine, as the ball seems pain free. In the first game, the framing device was the King of All Cosmos got drunk and blew up all the stars in the sky, and every ball you rolled up became a replacement star or constellation. The King of All Cosmos is an overbearing asshole who mentally abuses the prince, but it ultimately gave the prince a sense of pluckiness that had a charm to it. That charm is completely gone in the sequels, because they’re far too meta and self-congratulatory, to the point that even staunch fans began to find it obnoxious.

The first game had this “we had to come up with SOME reason for this bananas concept to make sense” vibe that felt authentically kooky. This sequel, and in fact all Katamari sequels, feel like they’re trying too hard.

In this game, fans of the first game and the concept of Katamari Damacy in general essentially pray to the King of All Cosmos to make their Katamari dream scenarios come true. Much like how I’ve never found a person who brags about having a high IQ to be impressive, I’ve never once found a person or entity that fancies itself as charming to be the least bit charming at all. That’s especially true with all the Katamari sequels, where the characters are just annoying. Actually, the King might be the most annoying character in the history of video games. He never shuts up, ever. When you’re in the zone and trying to focus on beating your best times or your best scores, having the King’s dialog block the screen is ridiculous. You have to press A (or X on PlayStation) to make it quick scroll. If you don’t and just let it scroll on its own it could be quite a while before you have a clear screen again. It might be a funny gag if it happened once per a save file, but every time? Blech. There’s no method of turning it off, either. If you find one of the 39 cousins of the prince for the first time in a specific stage, the King will say the same lines every replay about finding that cousin.

My personal idea of Gaming Hell is a Katamari with only the Cowbear level where the King’s dialog can’t be removed from the screen and the catchy soundtracks are replaced with Baby Mario’s crying from Yoshi’s Island. I’d like to believe that’s what OJ Simpson is playing right now. Satan couldn’t give him a football based-hell since he already played for Buffalo.

We Katamari has only five basic stages, each of which has two variants based on making as big a ball as possible within a time limit, or reaching a target size as quickly as possible. Those stages are easily the best parts of the game, as each starts you small and in a confined space, but eventually you work your way up to the point that you’re struggling to find new things to grab onto. There’s a lot of smoke and mirrors involved, as set pieces constantly repeat, only redressed with new materials to roll up. This becomes especially true if you play the three “Eternal” modes of the game, which are a new addition to We Love Katamari REROLL that didn’t start until later games. Each of the Eternal stages has a hard cap in how big you can get and how much stuff there is to gather. By the time you reach the point where you’re rolling up both clouds and the ground underneath you, the game itself is no longer taking into account all the stuff on the ground. You can even get achievements, presents, cousins, and collectables you’ve missed in the Eternal modes. However, you can’t make new planets, so when you quit, your ball will be turned into stardust for the space level. I wish there were a LOT more themes and areas, but what’s here is fine. The themes are mostly fun locations. If I had to complain, I’d say I wish there were a lot more things specific to each stage.

The racing level is probably my favorite of the special modes. It controls like operating a rocket-powered shopping cart after you’ve slammed all the hard liquor in the world, but it’s crazy fun.

The special stages are what differentiate the Katamari games, and most are fun. In the racing mode, you can’t stop the ball, which has one speed: too fast. It crashes into everything and goes flying off even the slightest hill, but the out-of-control rocket vibe works for a game like this (though I can’t stress enough: I would NOT want a whole game like that). You’d also have to be trying to lose deliberately to actually fail at it. There’s three stages where you have to guess how big your ball is and try to get it as close to the target size as possible. Thankfully We Katamari isn’t operating under Price is Right rules, so going over is okay. The most memorable stage is probably the one where you have to roll around an oblong sumo wrestler, where the only items that count are food. It’s a shame rolling up people doesn’t count as edible, as a little implied cannibalism is the type of thing that can put a game on the map. The sumo is really tough to roll since he’s not fully round and has a bad wobble. That is, unless you can maneuver yourself so the sumo is completely horizontal. If you can do that, it’s so satisfying to get a long straightaway. Also, that last sumo level is tough. Easily the stage I lost the most on.

God, how I hated these levels. Also taking the extra 24 seconds here got me a whole mm bigger. Did I mention I hated these levels?

On the flip side, when the special stages are bad, they’re really bad. One of them has you collecting fireflies that just sort of linger without any real rhyme or reason besides a few sections where more than an average amount swarm. One has you build a snowman and it’s SO tedious. The above one has a fire that goes out if you don’t collect items fast enough. And there’s a big river right in the center of the stage with a sloped edge, and if the ball falls into the river, you get punished by the vengeful king, who REALLY never shuts up when you fail a stage. There’s a stage where the items have a numeric price placed on them which is really just the same thing you’ve been doing for several hours, only with items having often arbitrary values. Then there’s the end-game special levels where you have to roll up all the planets you’ve created over the course of the game, and one where you have to roll-up countries and then catch a comet that’s about to hit the earth. They both sound more fun than they are, which is not at all. But, by far the worst stage is the Cowbear stage, which has to be a contender for the worst level in a good game ever. So, of course THAT stage got brought back for Katamari Forever (the finale of the console franchise as of this writing).

You can’t see it, but I’m about to run over a teeny tiny statue of a bear. Trust me, that’s not a good thing.

In the Cowbear stage, the level ends as soon as you roll up your first bear or cow. You don’t get the option to keep rolling with your current ball. And also the game has a very odd definition of what is a cow or a bear. A road cone that has the marking of a dairy cow? That counts and the level is over. A vending machine with the markings of a dairy cow? That counts and the level is over. Teeny tiny little toy bears? Those count, and the level is over. It turns Katamari; one of the most fast paced, frantic, exciting game concepts, into a slow paced, unfriendly bore. You have to literally inch your way around a stage where things that are painted in a way vaguely resembling the patterns of hair on cows are scattered everywhere. Your starting positions in most stages are semi-randomized, and in the Bearcow stages, the designers usually surround your starting ball with the smallest (thus lowest-scoring) bear or cow objects. And mind you, it’s not like you have perfect visibility. Most of the time, the ending of the stage took me by surprise. I usually spent a minute or so staring at the screen while trying to figure out what exactly I touched that counted as a bear or a cow. Since your goal is to create a massive ball that blocks most of the visibility in front of you, this was a VERY dumb idea. So dumb that it should have been killed on the drawing board before development even began, and the person who proposed it should have been fired. By that, I mean they should have been loaded into a cannon and fired out of it, preferably into a brick wall. This is an example of taking the quirk too far.

What did my parents get me? MALIBU KAT-A-MARI!! I’m a ballerina! GRACEFUL!

Along for the ride in this REROLL are five “new” stages, or rather five new challenges that recycle We Katamari’s existing settings, that literally have no consequence: the Royal Reverie stages. While they keep high scores, you’re not creating new planets to roll-up or anything. In terms of quality, I’d rank all these new stages a couple Everests above the Cowbear level but several Matterhorns below the levels that are actually fun. All five, at best, feel like ideas that never made it past spitballing at the initial planning meeting. Besides hiding stickers in them (more on those next), the crappy reward for completing them is costumes for the Prince not good enough to be costumes in the original release. In the screenshot above, you have to find four ballerinas in the zoo. In another, you have to find five hidden musical instruments in the school, with the catch being that the school is full of ghosts that end your round if you touch them. One is a car stage that actually allows you to stop, where the only item that counts towards your score are any tires. One is a quick one minute sprint in the bedroom and HOLY CRAP were they ever stretching for ideas there. The final one recreates the firefly stage that’s already second-to-last in the terrible idea department, only the fireflies are replaced by actual fire that represents your FIGHTING SPIRIT to quickly drain an opponent’s health bar. These levels are AWFUL and not worth a new purchase if you still have your PS2 copy.

I chose to use this pic to show the sticker challenge because it can’t spoil the locations of them for you. Seriously, this was what kept me playing for four straight days.

Easily the coolest addition to We Katamari: REROLL is that nearly every level has between one to three stickers of classic Namco characters. They’re divided into one for each “challenge” in the game for a lack of a better term. Like how each of the five basic stages have a How Large challenge and a How Fast challenge? Well, each of THOSE has a sticker in a different location somewhere on the map. You don’t roll them up. Instead, you have to equip the camera present (it should be the first present you get) and, when you find one, you have to snap a photo of it, which removes it from the stage and adds it to your collection. This is a “just for funsies” thing that has no achievements or practical usage, but holy cowbear, did I ever have a good time finding them! The stickers turn the world of Katamari into a 3D version of a Where’s Waldo book, and I mean that in the most complementary way possible.

This totally makes up for the fact that they took the second worst level in the game, changed it from night to day and pretended it was a new level. The “Fighting Spirit” stage is even worse than the firefly original.

It’s such a thrill to find the stickers, especially in the bigger levels. They’re almost never in an arbitrary spot. By time I got to the bigger levels, I had an understanding for the “logic” of the type of the places they’d be hidden, so it wasn’t like a needle in a haystack. Actually, the difficulty was nearly perfectly balanced, to the point you’d think they were pros at it. Mind you, you have to operate within the rules of each stage while snapping the pictures, which is why the tutorial, car stage, and space levels have no stickers to find. Thankfully, unlike presents and cousins, you keep the stickers you snap pictures of win, lose, or quit. But, like with the fire stages, you have to keep your Katmari fire burning while you search. If there’s a time limit, you have to work with it. Cowbear? You still have to avoid touching cows and bears, which is probably good life advice in general. There is a problem with the sticker search: it seems to have inconsistent stability. I’m going to spoil ONE sticker location for you because it’s one a lot of people are having problems with. Not so much the “finding” part as the “getting credit for finding it” part. It’s this one:

This was the second-to-last sticker I found, in one of the “pick up a million roses” bonus stage that doesn’t actually expect you to pick up a million roses in a single setting. I’m only spoiling this because of how crappy it is to get it.

And yes, that’s the hockey mask from Splatterhouse. You’ll also note I took a picture and didn’t get the sticker. I have no idea why. Several times, I collected stickers from quite a distance away, partially obscured, off-center, and not completely in frame. I still got them. But, in this specific instance, the camera simply didn’t register that I had taken a pic of it and thus collected it. So, how did I get it? I honestly don’t know! The house was out-of-bounds, so I couldn’t get as close as I wanted to. No matter where I stood, it wouldn’t register. This had happened once before with a previous sticker, but then I quit the stage and restarted it and, the next time, the camera worked on the first try and the sticker was collected. Not this time. I was really worried that the game was glitched, and if it didn’t work a year after release, it was likely to never work at all. I know the camera is sensitive enough because on the cowbear level, I collected the sticker by accident when photographing something that turned out to be wrong, but the real sticker was in the frame and I got it anyway even though it wasn’t REALLY visible. Meanwhile, the Jason mask wouldn’t register even though I took several unobstructed photos. I kept bumping up and down against the fence over and over and over and even tried a selfie with it. Finally I found a gag between the fences and, after several attempts to bump myself as close to the invisible barrier as possible, the stupid thing actually registered and I collected it.

This is the tallest you get in this Katamari, or maybe one click higher. But future editions of the series had you transition from the Earth to rolling up continents to rolling up space. This one has the Earth stuff and space in separate levels, and the space one doesn’t tell you how big your Katamari ball is. Instead, it just tells you how many objects you’ve rolled up. Fun fact: in the EU versions of We Love Katamari, and ONLY the EU versions, each of the cousins you found got their own planet for the space section. REROLL is the first time the cousin planets get a global release.

My biggest complaint about the sticker concept besides mechanical issues is that there isn’t more of it. I would love for the photography to be a major part of the Katamari series. In keeping with the Where’s Waldo-like feel of the Namco sticker hunt, they could use the photography feature in the same way the checklists at the end of Waldo books add replay value. “Take a picture of a flying elephant! Of a bear playing the piano! Of a swordfish poking out of a life ring!” That type of stuff. I’d still be playing it, and having the time of my life. Seriously, I kind of want a 3D Waldo game now because of Katamari. It just works, and it’s such a tease that there’s not more of that in the game. Just the cousins and presents, of which there’s nothing new hidden in the stages. No new cousins, and all the new costumes are tied directly to completing the five Reverie stages. They’re not presents hidden inside them. If nothing else, it’d been nice if they changed all the locations of the cousins and presents, or just added more. I say that because they’re so fun to find. If I had just played the levels until they were beat, there’s only a couple hours of content in the game. With the cousins, presents, and especially the stickers, there’s several multiples more.

I came two milliseconds short of having the clock read all 2s and I was so proud I took a picture, even though it means nothing. I think I need help.

For all my whining, I have to admit that I couldn’t put We Katamari down, and I’ll regret it for days to come as the blisters all over my hands heal. Katamari is a fill-in-the-blanks game. Whatever you want out of it, be it a relaxing game to chill out with or a white knuckle high score challenge, this will do. When I wasn’t treating it like a 3D Waldo game, I was challenging my own best times and highest scores, and the only time I ever got bored was on the Cowbear level and the firefly level (and it’s Reverie rehash), both of which are glaring blemishes on an otherwise pretty dang addictive game. It even has a lame as f*ck versus mode if that’s your thing, but there’s something for everyone here. I didn’t like the remaster of the original game at all, but the additions of the stickers (there’s also two in each of the five new levels), significantly faster load times (at least on Xbox Series X) and less technical hiccups make this a solid $29.99 investment, or in my case, under $10 investment. At the same time, it’s still the same game from 2005.

My favorite of the “mop everything up” type of levels is the Hansel & Gretel level.

The thing about Katamari as a franchise is there’s really only been three console games and one all-star compilation. The handheld games were REALLY bad, which is probably to be expected since those had to make all kinds of concessions based on the hardware. The last console release, Katamari Forever from 2009, was made up almost entirely of older levels and challenges. Touch My Katamari, a game ruined by the rear touch panel on the Vita, was the last non-mobile game, and it was another game made up of older levels. And that was it! This blog is younger than the latest new console Katamari game, and this blog is thirteen years old this year.

The cloud stage is one of the stages that didn’t make the cut for Katamari Forever.

While the existing Katamari games are a ton of fun, this is a frustrating series because it feels like it hasn’t peaked yet. Fans of the franchise, I ask you this: doesn’t it feel like the perfect Katamari video game is still waiting to be released? What I think happened is Keita Takahashi and his team burned out after releasing three Katamari games in a three year span, the last of which had massive production issues. Beautiful Katamari, aka the one where critics started turning on the series, only released on Xbox 360 (it’s still for sale on the Xbox Store), but it was originally going to be on Wii and PS3 too. The PS3 version ran into “porting problems” and, because the PS3 had lower sales, they canned it and focused on a Wii version that also never saw the light of day. Also, the Xbox 360 version was SLAMMED for having DLC levels coded into the disc itself, where the DLC fee was really just to unlock content already on the disc. It felt cheap, because it was. That’s why the PS3 got Katamari Forever, which was mostly a retread of Beautiful Katamari with some content from the first two games sprinkled in.

2024 and I’m still playing new releases (or in this case, remasters) where the camera gets stuck behind a solid object that drowns out your entire field of view. This is a VERY common occurrence in We Love Katamari.

That’s why these re-releases really frustrate me. Games are just better now than they were in 2005. 3D games especially. Do you think a game like Katamari could benefit from, say, a better camera? How about better fluid simulations? Handling more moving objects at once? Being able to give moving objects more elaborate moving parameters? Well, that game doesn’t exist. Even with the visuals now having less jaggyness and real time shadows, this is a 2005 game, and it feels like it. Everything that moves does so using shallow, preset parameters. Objects are CONSTANTLY clipping through surfaces, and the camera is just plain bad at what it does, to the point that you often can’t see what you’re doing. Hey, I had a ton of fun with We Katamari, even if I can’t eat salty foods without searing pain in my fingertips for the next couple days. Needless to say, I’m happy with my purchase, especially since I got it on sale. I’m also happy the first two Katamari games got a modern re-release. I’m all about preservation and legal access to older games, and I have no objection to those older games getting quality of life mods and bonus content. BUT, I really hope they have something better planned for next year’s twentieth anniversary of Katamari Damacy. 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.
Verdict: YES!
$9.89 (normally $29.99) got rolled up in the making of this review.

Project Blue (Review)

If you play Project Blue on the Nintendo Switch or Xbox, there’s NO ability to save your progress. There are no save files, and despite being an NES game running on an emulator, there are no save states. That means if you want to play this on your Nintendo Switch and intend to finish the game, you can’t play anything else until you defeat the final boss. That might change eventually via a patch, but keep in mind that Project Blue is a fairly difficult game, even on its lowest difficulty setting. It’s also a game that features lengthy levels with two tiers of checkpoints: “lose a life” checkpoints that are much more generous and “game over” checkpoints that could potentially send you quite a ways back. While it’s a lot of fun, it also means you can’t knock out one stage at a time while playing other games. You can put your console on sleep mode, but once you turn off Project Blue, you have to start over from the beginning. If this was a twenty hour game, that’d obviously be a deal breaker. However, Project Blue thankfully only has four levels that I’d think an average player would need three to five hours to finish. At least on their first attempt. It’s still very annoying that a game in 2023 doesn’t use our space age technology to allow you to record your progress, but you could finish Project Blue on your first attempt during a screening of Avatar. You know, keeping with the blue theme.

What the Xbox/Switch package DOES come with is a damn good instruction book. Seriously, this thing is so NES authentic WHILE being kind of morbidly dark. Hey, it made me smile. I should also note that this is the ONLY WAY you can get the story of the game. While the graphics are good enough to immerse you in the in-game universe, you really don’t get a whole lot of story out of it. What story there is, well, just read the book. It’s all kinds of delightfully twisted.

I didn’t beat Project Blue on Switch. I swapped over to my PC and an NES emulator, because I wanted to play other games on my Switch too. Oh, and because I wanted to cheat. A lot, actually. With rewind and save states. Mostly save states, because those allow for SOME challenge. It’s how I maximize my own enjoyment, which is the whole point of playing games. Also, with a game like this, or any other “difficult” platformer, I normally prefer to knock out a few rooms at a time, then take a break. I probably should have played this more this week, because now it’s 1:19 in the morning and I’m rushing to get this out by time the game releases on Switch and Xbox, because Project Blue is really good and I want people to see this review as it launches. Take all my guesses on how much time you’ll need with a grain of salt. You’ll probably play Project Blue better than I did. It kicked my ass. And I kind of loved it for it.

I’m almost certain this would break your neck. By the way, there’s a handful of different colored borders if you get the Switch/Xbox version. I found the red one to be distracting, but the other two work really well AND took actual effort. Some of the best borders I’ve seen, and I play a lot of games that use borders. I just did Taito Milestones 2, which phones in the borders for 9 out of the 10 games. “Who does this bitch think she is? The border patrol?” Thank you! Don’t forget to tip your waiter!

Project Blue is maybe the most conventional NES game I’ve played as of yet that also pulls double duty as an elite-tier indie game. Despite being made within the last few years, there’s no modern strings attached. Which.. yea, come to think of it, the whole “you cannot save” thing tracks with that. But I’m speaking in terms of raw gameplay. You, me, and anyone else could believe that this is a genuine lost 1988-1991 NES release that somehow fell through a time warp. It didn’t succumb to the temptation of featuring gore or swearing like so many modern NES indies, nor does it use state-of-the-art (for NES at least) graphics chips to buff up the appearance. It passes the eye test, but it’s not just the presentation that makes it convincing. I’ve played four NES indies now (along with last year’s Garbage Pail Kids, micro-sized metroidvania Böbl, and Tetris tribute From Below) that are good enough to crack my top 100. Project Blue is probably the most believable as a genuine 80s/90s NES release. Defeating Garbage Pail Kids for that title is no small feat. It’s close, but I think the authenticity edge goes to Project Blue.

Even on the “normal” difficulty, this is a tough one.

Do you know what the secret sauce is? This is going to sound incredibly counter-intuitive, but the way to make your game perfectly NES-like is through imperfections, especially in movement and controls. Now, keep in mind that I don’t mean BAD controls. If you have unresponsive or sluggish inputs, your game is probably going to suck. Rather, I’m talking about good controls and movement physics that have a sharp learning curve to them. When that happens, it hearkens back to a time when developers (including Nintendo) hadn’t quite perfected the art of jumping around. In the case of Project Blue, it’s a game based around platforming and shooting your way through a series of interconnecting single-screen rooms. While enemies play a big role, I found the majority of the excitement came from the level layouts. The rooms are built around creating as many hold-your-breath jumps and close calls as any 8-bit game could possibly squeeze in. It’s nearly non-stop, even after you reach the point where the physics are intuitive. Project Blue is like an assembly line that turns out nail-biting platforming moments. And mind you, this isn’t a Super Meat Boy-like punisher. This is more like a Mega Man-style hop ‘n pop action game.

I confess that, after the first boss, I was worried that future boss encounters would be the low-point of Project Blue. But all the other bosses are an absolute blast to battle. Difficult, but clockable and fair. I really love this one, folks.

You don’t hold a button to run, but rather your movement speed builds automatically. Project Blue leans heavily on having to get a running start to make both high jumps AND long jumps. This premise, combined with movement that has a real sense of momentum and inertia, makes for a truly thrilling 8-bit experience. One that somehow feels totally unique while also feeling like dozens of other era-specific games. You get a little bit of Mega Man, but also a little bit of Blaster Master, or maybe Metroid or Journey to Silius, and probably tons of other NES games I’ve never even played. It feels like the developers set out to make each of the rooms feel unique from all other ones, but they didn’t stop there. Enemy placement is so measured and works in collaboration with the harrowing jumps that it feels practically scientific. Some rooms are optimized for combat, while others are optimized for jumping bits. Some combine the two, and some even have the enemies hopping off springs with you. But the bottom line is that nearly every single room offers some kind of unique challenge. Project Blue never feels repetitive. It never feels like they’re just recycling layouts. It never feels like they phoned it in and said “screw it, just shove a placeholder in here!” There’s nothing lazy about Project Blue. It really feels like it explored most everything the basic engine they created could do.

Project Blue also avoided the very worst NES platforming tropes. While I certainly won’t say there’s NO “gotchas” (I legitimately injured my throat trying to comically feign outrage at one death) there’s no invisible floors, no sliding on ice, no enemies that snipe you as soon as you enter a room, no invisible traps, and the bosses aren’t spongy. Project Blue’s challenge is as pure as the driven snow. I genuinely have no clue why driven snow is especially pure. I don’t know, folks. It’s the term. Work with me here.

And I swear, while the movement and the jumping physics are tough to learn, especially compared to modern 2D games, it DOES eventually become second nature thanks to stellar level design. Early on in the game, I struggled with measuring out which jumps I would need to build-up speed in order to clear. By the end of the game, I knew as soon as I entered a room “okay, that last platform I’m going to need a full running start for.” You typically have time to plot out a course. There’s only a couple “think fast” levels sprung on players, and they don’t really happen until the very end of Project Blue. The funny thing is, despite borrowing heavily from sci-fi run-n-jump shooters, the combat takes a back seat to the platforming. Honestly, I think I would have liked Project Blue equally as much if there was no shooting. It’s the rare action game where you could remove that element entirely and lose almost no excitement. It’s not as if the combat is crap, either. But, when I decided the safest strategy was to avoid enemies and leg it for the door, IT WAS STILL EXCITING! Holy cow, when does THAT ever happen? Where a game has good combat, but it could still do without it and be just as well? Almost never. That’s how special Project Blue is.

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Sometimes the decision to make a run for my life was made for me. Not all enemies can be killed, and sometimes you have to weave your way around them while hopping over instakill cliffs AND keeping enough momentum to reach the final platform. Especially once you near the end of the game, the biggest gameplay theme becomes “try not to stop moving.” It’s almost Sonic-like in that regard. And hey, that’s yet another classic game this seems to take inspiration from. That’s the thing about Project Blue: it’s not just borrowing ANY bits from classic games. It’s taking their best parts AND maintaining a sense of originality. It’s really remarkable in that regard, and it also doesn’t feel like it cheated by doing things that modern games would take for granted. It has a minimum amount of enemy designs, like so many NES games do. But, it’s not about how many enemies there are, but rather what the developers could do with them. In Project Blue, their usage is stretched to their absolute limits. Just when you think you’ve seen every possible way the invincible tanks can put up a challenge, you’ll enter a room with a pair of them flying off springs and hitting walls in perfect synchronization. Wow. Project Blue pulls off situations like that all the time, and it always took my breath away.

It’s a looker, too. Lots of tiny little details that give the world a lived-in sense.

Okay, besides those opening paragraphs, this is a little too lovey-dovey of a review, so here’s what I didn’t like: what you see IS what you get with Project Blue. If there’s hidden rooms, breakaway walls, etc, I didn’t find them. There’s only one gun upgrade that has limited ammo. With no permanent weapon upgrades and a linear level design, Project Blue kind of feels a bit on the bare-bones side. It also looks like you’re navigating a series of mazes, but you really aren’t. I figured the game would feature Kid Icarus-style mazes along the lines of the temple levels in that game, but that isn’t the case at all. I never got lost once. For the most part, each room has one entrance and exit. Typically if there are multiple points of entry and exit, they’re blocked off until you zig-zag around in a very linear fashion before coming back to them from a different angle. There ARE moments where I know I could have gone in another direction, typically via some ultra-long jump. But, I didn’t hit those jumps, and I didn’t want to replay Project Blue until I did. I don’t know what I missed, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. When I finished the game, as much fun as I had, I was also ready for it to be done. At least with Project Blue 1. If they ever do a sequel, I’ll be first in line.

With rewind/save states, I needed about ninety minutes to beat Project Blue, but mind you, I had beaten the first world three times before. It takes about thirty minutes per world with cheating. Without? Probably an hour per world. Ninety minutes, max.

BUT, if they ever do a sequel, what my challenge to the development team would be is to turn the worlds into genuine labyrinths that require navigation and maps, and maybe even permanent upgrades. I’m not suggesting they do a full-blown Metroidvania. There’s so many of those nowadays that it’s exhausting. Stick with levels, BUT, make them mazes. Clearly the developers have the talent to pull that off. I can’t stress enough: I have NO nostalgia for the NES. I’m a child of the PlayStation/Nintendo 64/Dreamcast era. This isn’t my wheelhouse. The novelty of playing an era-authentic NES indie in 2023 doesn’t mean squat to me. I’m never going to play Project Blue on a cartridge. No, for as minimalist as Project Blue is, it really holds up on its own as a truly great video game experience. Project Blue is intense and exciting and white knuckle. The combat is solid, but the level design shines like few other back-to-basics action games can do. It doesn’t matter if Project Blue feels like it comes from a different time or not, because all its best qualities are timeless.

Project Blue is Chick-Approved
Leaderboard Ranking: #36 of 309 Indie Gamer Chick-Approved Indie Games*
Top 94.4 Percentile of All 640 IGC-Reviewed Indie Games
Top 88.4 Percentile of All 306 IGC-Approved Indie Games
*Rankings based on time of publication. Check the Leaderboard for updated standings.

Project Blue was developed by toggleswitch, FrankenGraphics, and M-Tee
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, Itch.io

$9.99 sang the blues in the making of this review.

A review copy was supplied for Nintendo Switch. Either a second Switch copy or an Xbox copy will be paid for out of pocket by Indie Gamer Chick. Or, rather her father, who wants to play it too. He’s cool like that.

NEScape! (NES Indie Review)

“Oh GOD, she’s doing another escape game.” Yea, in case you haven’t noticed, my family is obsessed with escape rooms, including mail-order “escape crates” and board games that are functionally single-use mysteries that may or may not be destroyed in the process of playing them. Hell, they even make Clue-branded ones now. Of course, our favorites are the actual brick & mortar ones. They’re like real life video games. It’s you, your friends and/or family, and a room full of puzzles. The object is to just get out the door, typically within a one hour time limit. Taking an experience that’s supposed to replicate the feel of a video game IN REAL LIFE and putting it in, well, a video game, seems redundant, but I’m so happy they exist. Escape Rooms can be hell of expensive (we spend usually $100 to $150 per one hour session). Not only do video escape rooms let people test the waters to see if this is the type of thing they’d like to go try, but they’re cost-efficient too! But, they have to be done right. Escape Simulator has shown how (just stay away from the user rooms unless you like old-school adventure video games since that’s what users tend to do with the engine). And hell, they don’t even need to be truly 3D or “high tech” to do well. Look at Cape’s Escape Games on Nintendo Switch. We’ve enjoyed them all, along with the Japanese Escape Game series that uses basically the same interface but is apparently a different company. There’s also tons of 3D escape rooms of, shall we say, less than stable build quality. About the only thing the Vice Family has not attempted is an 8-bit escape room. Until now.

Even the title screen is a puzzle. Thankfully, you can skip it if.. likely WHEN.. you need to replay the game.

I wanted to like this so much. Going into NEScape, I figured it’d be a novelty-at-best experience. Hey, it’s the Escape Room phenomena, only as a Nintendo Entertainment System cartridge. But, my expectations were quickly tempered. There were a few warning signs, the first of which was the hideous cover art that looked like absolutely no thought or consideration was put into it. At the point of sale, your first impression is the cover/logo for your game. You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but when the cover art looks like this:

.. yea, that’s a red flag. Why not have 8-bit pixel art showing escape room elements? That’s the point of the game, right? The only reason you’d want to play it: an 8-bit escape room on the NES. Not only that, but there are people who specifically like pixel art style games. I’m one of them. But, if I had seen this on the store page, I’m not entirely sure I’d of clicked the page to see what the graphics actually look like. Not with this cover. Just having “NES” in the name isn’t enough. Yes, that’s an incredibly nit-picky thing to whine about, but a pet peeve of mine is bad cover art. It bothers me even for games I don’t like. You went through all the effort of making a video game, and THIS is the first impression you want to make at the point of sale? NEScape actually has really good graphics as far as NES Indies go, but you wouldn’t know it from this.

So, that was ominous sign of the type of consideration that went into making this. But the real canary in the coalmine was the instruction book’s warning about time running out and how not to give up, because you’ll make it a little further every time. Oh dear. Yes, hour time limits are the primary challenge in real escape rooms. But, strict time limits should not carry over to video game escape rooms. Among other reasons, real rooms have a better user interface. It’s called reality. You don’t have to figure out the controls of reality. You just act. You can pick stuff up and examine it with your own hands. You can move about freely. You can focus on whatever you want to without having to move a cursor around to switch rooms or click on objects to get a close look. Escape Rooms also need the time limit because they’re a business that has to do multiple sessions every day to be economically viable. On days where they’re not jam-packed or have no walk-ins, most generally allow players to continue past the time limit if they fail (especially if they’re close to the end). Strict time limits only make sense in real rooms on busy days.

There’s four “rooms” to look at (hypothetically one room with four sides. This house wasn’t made by Thomas Jefferson). There’s a curve to figuring out where to click to advance to the next room.

In the non-corporeal world of video games, you DO have to fumble with interfaces. You DO have to fumble with a cursor. You DO have to fumble with navigation, like where exactly on the screen you click to change rooms. You DO have to fumble with item usage. You DO have to fumble with what’s clicklable and what isn’t. Video games are always going to be more clunky, and you have to take that into account. NEScape doesn’t at all. It seems to expect players to fail and then start over from the beginning. That’s why the instruction book says this:

By the way, that design logic is fine.. provided you make a game that’s fun to get back to the part you died on. An escape room is almost never going to be that, randomized puzzles or not. You already know what item you use on what thing, and that part doesn’t change. Even the random elements won’t matter because it’s not WHAT the solution is but how to come to that solution that’s the fun part. Staring over from the beginning and working your back to the part you lost on is just a chore, and it’s going to be a longer chore every single time you fail. Well, NEScape goes strictly by the timer. The moment it runs out, you return to the title screen. They didn’t even do an alarm or a gong or anything. I mean, come on! It’d be like a Mario game without the death animation and fail music. Have a little pomp to your game! I’m surprised they didn’t have a buzzer, because the one good thing I can say about NEScape, besides having good graphics, is that it has pretty good sound design too. I really liked that the game changes to a different chip tune every time the lights dramatically cut-out to signify a major turning point in the ultimate puzzle. That’s a great idea and I hope other video escape rooms do something similar. But, that’s where my complements end.

Ah, video game logic. There’s a piggy bank and you need to open it. In the wacky world of video games, you need to find a hammer. In real life, piggy banks have a cork in the bottom that you can use to get the money out. Everybody knows this. Also, the ground exists. Why bother with a hammer when you’re presumably a person and not ghost. Just pick it up and throw it against the ground, right?

Another red flag was that the press kit I got for this game also included a complete walk-through, along with the solutions to every puzzle. Uh.. seriously? You don’t have to use it. We didn’t, and in fact, full disclosure: we didn’t finish the room. We played the game earlier this week and quit on the sliding puzzle when we got into an argument over what moves to make (yes, the guide has literal step-by-step instructions on how to solve that part, too). We fired it up a second time last night, but timed out late into the game. Look, I’m not above using a guide to beat a game. I do all the time. But it’s really, really rare for a developer of a game to send a step-by-step guide on how to beat the game to the people they’re presumably asking to evaluate it. Especially when that game has no action. They’re just puzzles, and when you tell someone how to solve the puzzle, that defeats the whole point of it, right? One of the most common mistakes indie developers make is telling play-testers how to play the game. Especially if they see the players get stuck or confused, or if the design is too obtuse. The correct way to do it is to just stand and watch, and not offer assistance even if the players ask for it, and then making adjustments based on OBSERVATION. Many people consider Portal to be the greatest video game ever made, and it got there because they watched play testers but offered no help to them. If they had done play testing THAT way, it wouldn’t be the intuitive masterpiece it is today. Unfortunately, many developers tend to hover over players and basically Mommy-them through the game. In eleven-and-a-half years of doing Indie Gamer Chick, I can’t remember a puzzle game developer sending me the game AND the solution to the game. “Ooooh.. that doesn’t sound promising” I thought when I saw that. And I was right.

If you’re deaf, you’re going to need the guide (in fact, I think the game should have a disclaimer saying as much on the store page). Some of the puzzles are based around sound, including digital voice samples that tell you the password for certain things. I don’t think any of the “random” elements are musically based, so you should be good there. In fact, having now read the guide (since I’m never playing this again, so screw it, why not?) the only random element is apparently a Simon game near the end.

NEScape isn’t exactly the most original escape game. The classics are all here. A puzzle where you have to tap the right piano keys? Check. A puzzle where you have to move the hands on a grandfather clock? Check. A puzzle where the solution is based on assessing the correct order of picture frames? Check. That’s not a knock, by the way. The classics are classics for a reason: they work. Hell, they’re probably the best puzzles in the game. If NEScape stuck to these, it’d make for a neat novelty game. Because that was the ceiling here. The creativity begins and ends with “..only this time, it’s for the NES!” And it’s not a particularly strong game on its own merits. There’s no story besides “I woke up in a room” which, fine, whatever. The puzzle is the attraction. But, instead of focusing on typical escape room logic, you also have to solve mini-games, and this is where it really falls apart.

It’s never a good thing when a game causes my normally docile family to erupt into a screaming match. The magic of sliding puzzles.

Like, early on, you have to do a sliding puzzle. For me, the attraction of escape rooms is doing them with my family. We all have a notepad, and we cooperate to solve the puzzles. You can’t do that with a sliding puzzle. You also can’t do that with a ball-in-a-maze tilt puzzle (one that even the guide advises you go slowly on). There’s even a “spot the difference” puzzle in this, and it’s one of the dumbest things I’ve seen in any game. For god’s sake: it’s 8-bit graphics and collision boxes in tiny windows we’re dealing with here. It wasn’t exactly QuickSpot. Like the other non-escape room stuff, it just stinks of busy work made to shave time off the clock and force replays. We still might have beat the clock, but during the fourth chapter, we ended up spending too much time trying to solve frame-swapping puzzle. At more than one point, we knew we must have solved it, but nothing happened. The design of it was.. well.. 8-bit enough that we weren’t 100% sure, so we kept tweaking it over and over.

This is the swap puzzle in question, which should not have been clickable until it was the next puzzle in the sequence.

Well, it turns out, that wasn’t supposed to be the next thing we did. What happened was the lights went out, and when they came back on, there was this nonsensical gibberish on the typewriter. We knew there was a clue in it, so Mom and Angela took a pic on her phones to study it while I exited the screen to explore. Upon exiting the typewriter, the telegraph tile-swap puzzle was right there and opened in the same room we were already in, so we worked on that. Unknown to us, a hammer had spawned in another room during the last interval, and the puzzle associated with THAT was the next puzzle we were supposed to do, with the telegraph not working until that part was completed. It’s the type of design logic that’s there to deliberately mislead you and shave time, which is what bad escape rooms do. Granted, this was made in 2019, where what’s called “red herring design” was more common. It’s a design trope the industry has largely phased out, because they learned people are more likely to become repeat customers from winning and not timing-out and coming back to do the same room again. But, for us, it was the final straw. You can do this type of “not this puzzle YET” design in real escape rooms because your party can split up. Divide and conquer. In video escape rooms, everyone is tied to one screen. Should we have explored first before wasting time on the puzzle? Maybe. But, that’s the risk the developer took on when they designed it that way: that they’d piss off the players for deliberately wasting time with the obvious attempt of forcing a restart.

Well, it does.

Do you know what I’ve noticed? My friends who actually liked NEScape were not escape room fans. Indie Gamer Team’s Aki liked it. My friend Daria liked it so much she considers it one of her favorite NES Indies. If you’re a fan of games like Shadowgate or Uninvited or Deja Vu, where dying and starting over is expected, you might like this a lot more than we did. Meanwhile, my family hated this so much that we went to an actual escape room this morning just to get the nasty taste of NEScape out of our mouth. This is a terrible video escape room. There was no point in the strict time limit. Hey chaps: the game wasn’t very fun to begin with. Forcing a from-the-start replay was going to be especially annoying with all the busy-work you created between the puzzles. WE considered restarting. In fact, Angela worked out the game’s typewriter puzzle while we sat around bitching about the red-herring, time-eating sequence issue. She was going to get us back to the spot we were on, but when she got to the sliding puzzle, she said “oh right.. I forgot about this stuff. Yea, I don’t want to do this stuff again.” C’est la vie!

This isn’t a puzzle. It’s a time sink. One that you have to heeltoe your way through to avoid having to restart it. These mini-games are what ultimately sealed NEScape’s fate for us. I can deal with clunky interfaces, and I can even deal with having to redo puzzles (stupid and self-destructive as that idea is). One thing I can’t deal with is being bored, and the greatest sin of NEScape is the padding it chose is BORING!

So, that was that. If the thought of replaying the same puzzles over and over again until you finally open the ultimate door sounds like a good time to you, hey, you might enjoy this, ya weirdo. We didn’t. If it had just stuck to the puzzles, this would have been fine, I guess. Certainly not great. The interface was too clunky to rise to that level. Unfortunately, NEScape set itself up for failure with the strict time limit, which forces you to replay mini-games I didn’t even want to do one time, let alone multiple times. And FYI, a strict time limit would have likely sunk Escape Simulator or the Cape’s Escape Games as well. This is especially true of Escape Simulator, which has a short timer. But, that game doesn’t end when you time out, nor are you penalized for it. It’s more of a high score or time trial type of thing. The mini-games weren’t the deal breakers by themselves, but they did make me dread that replay. When Escape Simulator, Cape’s Escape Games, or Japanese Escape games do mini-games, I find them annoying too.. BUT I’M NOT FORCED TO REPLAY THEM! Escape Rooms require a different mentality from other games. They’re one-and-done. Replay value is not expected, and I’m not sure the developers understood that staple of the genre. BUT, if you want replay value, the way to do it is by adding hidden objects. It’s not by forcing you to redo the same puzzles with the same solutions over and over. That’s not fun, and NEScape isn’t fun. Lock this one in a room and throw away the key.

NEScape is not Chick-Approved

NEScape! was developed by KHAN Games
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, NES Cartridge (Coming Soon?)

$4.99 timed out in the making of this review.

A review copy for Nintendo Switch was provided for this review. Upon the game’s release, an Xbox copy was purchased by Indie Gamer Chick.

 

Dragon’s Lair Trilogy: The Definitive Review (Complete 3 Game Review + Rankings)

2023 marks the 40th Anniversary of Dragon’s Lair, a pioneer of “more fun to watch than play” gaming. I was born in 1989, and while Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp technically counts as “my lifetime” really, two-year-old me wasn’t playing anything besides peek-a-boo by that point. Fast forward to the 2000s, when we ended up owning Dragon’s Lair on DVD. “Have I got a game for you!” Dad said to teenage me. He threw it in and handed me the remote control (which was NOT a very good controller) and it was just about the worst thing I’d ever experienced in my life. Even Dad admitted that playing it with a DVD remote control was not the smartest idea. We tried it on a game console but it kept clicking-through to the DVD control menu. Fast forward to Christmas morning, 2010, and waiting for me under the Christmas tree, again from Dad, is Dragon’s Lair Trilogy for the Wii. The look on his face was so precious, a look that continued later in the day when I threw the disc in and proceeded to get totally demolished by the games.

Dragon’s Lair, Space Ace, and Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp are games that never stood a chance against the test of time. They’re famous for three things: being beautiful to look at, being difficult, and barely qualifying as video games. They served as little more than novelties, or “attractions” for arcades. Well, Dragon’s Lair did. In my eleven years on social media, I have never once heard a single person trade a tale of Space Ace in arcades. Not once. On the other hand, I had one reader describe Dragon’s Lair’s reign as king of arcades like a bright, beautiful shooting star. Look away for a moment and you risk missing it completely, but if you saw it, you’ll never forget it. No game that has aged as badly is remembered so fondly by the generation that experienced it in-person in arcades. Sadly, it’s a phenomena I’ll never be able to fully understand no matter how hard I try. When Dragon’s Lair 3D: Return to the Lair released in 2002, to 13-year-old me, it was just another game, and not even a good one. The excitement of actually playing Dragon’s Lair was lost on me and my generation. A “you had to be there” we can’t understand.

Or, maybe not? The only way I can know for sure is to put these games through the wringer.

This is pretty much how my reviewing appears to developers.

Dragon’s Lair Trilogy retails for $19.99 on PlayStation, Nintendo Switch, and Xbox, with each individual game being sold separately on platforms like Steam for $9.99. Since that’s the sold-separately price, we’ll round it up and say a quality game in this set is worth $10 in value. I’ll round up the $19.99 price and say Dragon’s Lair Trilogy must get $20 in value to win my Seal of Approval. But, before I figure up the value of the games, I need to look at the slate of extra features in the set. Oh, before that, I have to mention the menus of Space Ace. Take a look at this screenshot from when you pause the game.

What option do you think is highlighted here? Believe it or not, “Continue” is the highlighted option, while nothing is highlighting the bright “quit” option that stands out a lot more in this screen. This is such an obviously bad choice that I’m convinced it’s an accident. That they MEANT for the brightened option to be the highlighted one, but whoever designed the menu accidentally crossed their 1s with their 0s and got it backwards. By the way, in every menu option where there are only two choices, this problem is there. Why not have an arrow? You know, that time-honored symbol you use to point at something and say THIS ONE! The other menus aren’t that much better. For Dragon’s Lair, is purple THIS ONE, or is it red? You would know from the front menu of the game since there’s more than two options to choose from and only one is a different color. But, if you weren’t paying that close of attention when you started the game, you wouldn’t know. Combined with the distinct lack of options for one of the extra features that I’ll get to and you can tell they just didn’t really care all that much about presentation. I would have looked past it and just called this lazy, but then I keep going back to the gold/faded gold highlighting decision. I’ve been playing games my entire life and that’s the absolute worst menu select choice I’ve ever seen. I’m fining Dragon’s Lair Trilogy $5 in value for this. From here out, this will be the standard Definitive Review fine for bad menu design in classic game collections.

EMULATION EXTRAS

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Dragon’s Lair Trilogy provides a few options for playing the games, though the one I wanted most is notably absent. You can choose three or five lives for each game. It really sucks that there’s no option for unlimited lives and a modern-style death counter for these games. There is every possibility that such an option might have made the difference between winning and losing. The lives system only makes sense if this is trying to suck money from players in $0.50 intervals. These days, the fun is in seeing how many times you croak before reaching the ending. It’s been years since this released, but if Digital Leisure wanted to attempt to appeal to modern gamers (and why wouldn’t they? We spend money too!), you don’t have to lower the difficulty. You just have to, you know, make it fun to die.

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There’s also adjustable difficulty for the first Dragon’s Lair and Space Ace and a cabinet mode for all three games that I didn’t like one bit. Having played a lot of retro collections, there’s something about how this set handled scan lines on a TV screen that I found unconvincing. Dragon’s Lair allows you to play either the “Arcade” or “Home” versions. In the arcade version, you move to another screen if you die, whereas in the home version you have to repeat the stage until you complete it. Also included is a “Director’s Cut” option to play Dragon’s Lair II that changes the second-to-last level, making it shorter and nowhere near as memorable. I’ll talk about that more in the review of that game.

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The most important addition is the “move guide” that you can optionally add to the bottom of every game. This is not the same as the flashing-light indicators the games originally utilized to guide your actions. It’s a directional overlay that tells you the exact button press, and you simply have to be quick on the draw. The cabinet mode also has lights that tell you which direction to press located around the joystick. Unless you have the games memorized, you basically have to play with either the move guide or the cabinet mode turned-on. Especially the first Dragon’s Lair and Space Ace. Take, for example, the very first scene in the entire game. Dirk falls through the rotten wood on the drawbridge and a monster pops out of the moat. You’re supposed to swing your sword at it, but the sword doesn’t flash yellow. You’re just supposed to know to use your sword, I guess. In fact, both Dragon’s Lair and Space Ace don’t always use the yellow indicators for both the action and the movement, and sometimes you just plain have to make an educated guess. By the time Time Warp came around, they had included it with every move, but even with it, I found I couldn’t make progress at all without the move guide.

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Of course, the downside is, they cover up the animation, which is the whole point of playing these. Instead of watching the whole screen, you’ll inevitably stare at the bottom of the screen waiting for the next prompt. I suppose you can think of this as a trainer to memorize which moves you do on what screen, but that’s assuming you actually want to get THAT good at forty-year-old games. Either way, the move guide is a welcome inclusion, but I’m not at all satisfied with the lack of options. Given how you can watch each scene bit by bit in the media extras, why not let people play and practice them? Why not have the option for a death-counter instead of lives? I would hope a modern re-release of a Dragon’s Lair collection (which would hopefully solve licensing issues and include more games) would do more in the future. As for this specific set, for all the emulation extras, I’m crediting no extra value to Dragon’s Lair Trilogy. If they gave you the option to replace the lives system with a death counter, I would award $5 in credit towards the set, and $2.50 for being able to practice individual scenes.

MEDIA EXTRAS

“The fish was about this big..” “That’s not how a big fish story is supposed to go, Rick!”

Dragon’s Lair Trilogy comes with a couple media extras, the highlight of which is an interview with Don Bluth, Gary Goldman, and Rick Dyer. It runs a little over twenty minutes and, if you’re a fan of this stuff like I am, it’ll leave you wanting a lot more. Not because this lacks the good stuff, but because the interview is so well done. Dyer especially comes across as a cool guy. The type of guy you want to see succeed. A mad scientist who, more or less, invented the FMV format as we think of it today. For better and for worse, I suppose. The problem with this interview is that there’s no option to rewind or fast forward. There’s volume issues, and if you mishear something, you have to restart the whole video and watch it again. That really sucks and I have to cut what I would reward this feature by half as a result. I wish it had been broken into separate segments. It makes no sense why they didn’t, especially since the actual feature does have title cards for each different part of the interview.

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Dragon’s Lair Trilogy’s only other notable extra is a deleted scene for Dragon Lair II: Time Warp. It runs under a minute and is a partially voiced storyboard for a level set on a pirate ship, complete with what parts would flash yellow to indicate an action. The scene looks like it would have been dull. What’s frustrating is that the original Dragon’s Lair had many deleted scenes, including a full new “room” where one-eyed gargoyles hurl spears at Dirk. The scene is shown in the interview above, but you can’t watch it separately. Even more disheartening is the scene was apparently completed and colored by Digital Leisure, presumably with the intent of making it playable, but it’s nowhere to be found outside the interview. A quick glance at YouTube also makes it appear that there were multiple unused death animations that never made the game. It sure would have been swell to have all those. Space Ace gets no deleted scenes.

Dirk the Daring: the one hero in gaming who has irrefutable proof that he actually scootilypooped with the damsel he rescued. Of course, this leads into one of the great mysteries of video games: how the hell did Princess Daphne squirt out ten kids in what looks like a span of ten years and still maintain her figure? Clearly she messes around with the dark arts, which would explain why the forces of evil are always trying to kidnap her. They want to know her secret!

In fact, Space Ace feels pretty unloved by this set overall. Right before I finished this feature, I found out that a conversion kit for Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp was created in 1991 that could turn it into a more difficult version of Space Ace that used diagonal moves. This is not included in this set. Space Ace’s only two “special features” are also included for the other two games: the attract screen and the ability to watch the full game without having to play it. That last one is the best feature, and it really says it all about this set, doesn’t it? The best part about Dragon’s Lair Trilogy is the ability to just watch it without playing it.

They never mentioned which drugs produced the concept for Dragon’s Lair II.

Also, they got the three main guys behind the trilogy together to do a really good interview. Why stop there? DO AN AUDIO COMMENTARY!! Like, duh, right! Angela, future Spielberg of her generation, has helped me to rediscover the greatness of a well done feature film audio commentary. Dragon’s Lair and Space Ace especially could have benefited from hearing how game designer Dyer and animation expert Bluth came together to make one of the most famous games of all time. At one point in the interview, they touch upon how Bluth would interpret Dyer’s storyboards and create animation that didn’t work from a video game perspective (suddenly I have a hunch what went wrong with Dragon’s Lair II). Which scenes? In which ways? We don’t find out, and an audio commentary could have corrected this. Maybe we’ll get one eventually. Anyway, for all the media extras, I’m crediting $2.50 in value to Dragon’s Lair Trilogy. Had they offered more flexibility with how to watch the interview, I’d have called it $5.

THE ULTIMATE VERDICT ON THE COLLECTION

For those not familiar with my way of thinking of how retro games should be reviewed, I take NO historical context into account. 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 Space Invaders’ 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 enough to merit playing today and is not worth seeking out, and certainly not worth spending money on.

For Dragon’s Lair Trilogy, the final score was as follows:

YES!: 1 ($10 in Value)
NO!: 2
$2.50 in Extra Value
$5.00 in Fines
TARGET VALUE: $20

TOTAL VALUE: $7.50

Dragon’s Lair Trilogy does not earn my Seal of Approval. With only one game worth playing today, and a game that you can buy separately on a few platforms, it’s not worth buying the whole set. Frankly, I’m still stunned that I could give any game in Dragon’s Lair Trilogy a YES! at all. I had previously planned to have “I HATE FMV GAMES” etched on my tombstone. But really, there’s no reason to own all three games, one of which isn’t THAT bad but not good enough and one of which is one of the worst coin-ops ever made. I suppose you can still feel free to grab this set REALLY cheap. Like, under $10 cheap. Even then, I’m sure you can get Dragon’s Lair by itself even cheaper.

GAME REVIEWS

Dragon’s Lair
Released June 19, 1983
Designed by Rick Dyer
Directed by Don Bluth

One of the problems with adapting Dragon’s Lair today, in the 2020s, is people would have a cow about a character like Princess Daphne. As if friendly but vapid airheads don’t exist anymore. Or perhaps they wouldn’t if not for portrayals in media, like this? I think that’s the argument. Frankly, I don’t care. Besides, Dirk himself is completely brain dead too. They are gaming’s most fit couple.

Man, did I ever get it wrong about Dragon’s Lair. I got fixated on the whole “it’s really just playing Simon Says with animated cues” aspect. Which, by the way, is still there. As far as elephants in the room go, this is an especially large one that’ll always be around, like a photo-bombing wooly mammoth. But, when you really stop and look at the set pieces and the timing and themes of Dragon’s Lair, you realize that, more than any FMV game ever made, Dragon’s Lair succeeds at creating the illusion of video game-like interactivity. Not only that, but it does so in a way that is practically clairvoyant. That read the tea leaves flawlessly on where video games would go eventually. It’s ironic that the sequel is called Time Warp, when really, it was the original game that saw the future. The type of boss fights and challenges in games that didn’t exist in 1983 but do now. Come to think of it, many were probably inspired by this!

I think one of the aspects that makes Dragon’s Lair stand out is that literally every single character is memorable. It’s such a shame that nobody has managed to make a truly great game based on this franchise in the forty years since the original. All the pieces are certainly in place.

You can’t talk about any of these games without talking about the Don Bluth animation. Before we start, I want to qualify myself: I am NOT an expert at animation. I just watch a lot of it. People talk about Dragon’s Lair like it’s right up there with The Secret of NIMH or An American Tail or The Land Before Time. But, it’s actually not that high of quality. It’s somewhere between a really expensive Saturday morning cartoon and a feature film. Whenever a corner could be cut, chances are it probably was. There’s a lot of reused animation throughout the game. People, including myself, overlook that, but when you’re paying attention, they stand out. Space Ace is worse about it, but it’s there throughout Dragon’s Lair. On the other hand, I love the use of color and I think the backgrounds are just beautiful. I think they went a long way towards making Dragon’s Lair work. It feels like an adventure because it looks like one.

The later Dragon’s Lair 3D tried to recreate set pieces like this to various success. Had Dragon’s Lair 3D featured the smooth controls and lightning-fast responsiveness of a game like Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, for all we know, it might have gone down as one of the all-time greats. But, Dragon’s Lair 3D had sluggish controls, a problematic camera, and this RIDICULOUS recoil whenever you ran into a wall or object. AND YET, it still managed to be just a little bit alright, but nothing special. For a game with that many problems to still step across the “alright” threshold makes me wonder what if? about it. What if it had good play control and didn’t have that absolutely stupid recoil? Would it have been an unprecedented hit and reignited the franchise? We’ll never know, I suppose. I’m sure eventually they’ll re-release it, but I hope they don’t in its present state. Dragon’s Lair 3D turned twenty-years-old in November, and gaming has come a long way. Scrap it and go again with modern technology and maybe, at long last, Dragon’s Lair will be the franchise it deserves to be.

Having said all that, I think the understated part of what makes Dragon’s Lair work, besides the beautiful use of color and the striking backgrounds, is that every room creates the illusion of an interactive video game. The last third of Space Ace and pretty-much all of Dragon’s Lair II come across like watching a movie that someone shoehorned button prompts into. That happens in Dragon’s Lair too, but it’s most rare in this game. The rooms are designed like video game challenges. Swinging left to right (or right to left if the room is mirrored) across flaming ropes. Dodging giant, rolling balls that are set to a pattern. You’re always acutely aware you’re not really controlling Dirk the Daring, but Dyer and Bluth did everything in their power to suspend your disbelief anyway. They even manage to succeed in some rooms, where the framing and directional options are unambiguous: the challenge is right, so move left. The beast is coming at you, so use your sword. It takes proper staging to pull off, but sometimes they did, and suddenly, Dragon’s Lair ain’t too bad a game at all.

The rafting sequence is one such area. The timing of when to press the prompts and the various hazards that take place during this sequence just plain work as a magic trick that makes you feel like you’re in control of an already animated cartoon. I love using the magic trick analogy with Dragon’s Lair, because you never forget what you’re doing isn’t real. It’s not immersive at all. Instead, it becomes okay to allow yourself to play along anyway. That’s what makes stage magic fun, and Dragon’s Lair is basically stage magic as a video game. We know the score, but we’ll pretend we don’t, because we want to have fun.

Dragon’s Lair has more moments like that than any FMV game I’ve ever played. But, that doesn’t always mean the results work. Some of the rooms don’t do enough visual cues to make it predictable what the move will be. Moments where, logically you would think you’re going to press one direction, but really, you’re supposed to press another. Take this moment:

Assuming you weren’t using the move guide, which tells exactly when to press a button and what to press, what way would you press in the above screen shot? The flashing thing is to the left of you, but also in front of you. Hell, in theory, it’s also lower than you, which could imply you have to jump downward towards it, right? Well, the correct answer is you’re supposed to press UP. Even though the flashing target is in the lower left hand of the screen. I can’t imagine how many quarters a person would have needed in 1983 to commit this to memory. One recurring story I keep hearing from people is gathering around to watch someone in an arcade who could run through the entire game effortlessly. I’d not had the patience to get that far at all. I did make a good faith effort to play without the guide, but I couldn’t figure out what moves to do, and frankly I didn’t have any fun trying to figure it out.

In some areas, there’s no way to anticipate what move could possibly be the next move. You have to wait for a cue, or just watch the guide. Well, at least with Dragon’s Lair, I found I could do both.

Oddly, Dragon’s Lair is the only game in the trilogy where you can play with the guide on and still watch the cartoon too. It’s not a visually complex story. There’s not a lot of screen clutter. You don’t have dozens of moving objects, or even if you do, they’re staged correctly to not distract from the point of PLAYING the game. It’s a “clean” presentation that remembers what it’s asking of players: enjoy the show, but also do things based on what the show does. That’s why Dragon’s Lair succeeds even forty years later while Space Ace and especially Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp crash and burn. It IS an interactive movie, like few attempts at such a thing have been able to pull off. Even with the guide, you won’t miss anything with Dragon’s Lair. It’s something I didn’t appreciate until I played the other two games. How I tested this is I replayed each game a third time in three days and had my father and sister quiz me on details of the games. NOTHING unfair, and they understood what I was aiming for and went for details anyone playing the game should notice. For Dragon’s Lair, I answered six out of seven questions correctly. For Dragon’s Lair II, it was two out of seven. For Space Ace, it was only one out of seven, with the one that I got right being from early in the game.

This memorable scene is an example of “this would be so cool if you could actually play it!” that certainly was NOT cool to play when you really could in Dragon’s Lair 3D. And actually, the scene is a little overrated in the arcade game. The patterns the knight taps out on the floor don’t always seem to make logical sense in terms of which button you’re expected to press.

Let me be clear: Dragon’s Lair isn’t a great game by any stretch. Besides the occasional “why would you press that direction at that moment?” issues, the game also makes you eventually repeat each room, only with the animation mirrored so every left/right move is reversed. Of course, if they didn’t do this, a game of Dragon’s Lair would only take about six minutes to complete. The biggest knock I have is against the historically terrible finale sequence. The rooms are all relatively short, which serve as logical checkpoints if you lose a life. In fact, I consider the smallness of the rooms to be a highlight of the game. It makes it feel like a real castle you’re exploring.

That’s probably the most underrated aspect of what makes Dragon’s Lair work: some rooms can be as short as one action. None of that minute-and-thirty-second short film that you have to replay over and over crap from the sequel.

Except for the final room with Singe the Dragon, which has no checkpoints, and the game grinds to halt and becomes agony. First, Singe nearly wakes from his sleep, which takes a while of just waiting around and doing nothing. AND THEN, FOR NO REASON, Princess Daphne very slowly explains that you need to retrieve a magic sword that’s in the room and use it to get the key around Singe’s neck. And she’s doing stripper poses the entire spiel. Mind you, this explanation was totally unnecessary. If it was a new and unique gameplay method, FINE, but it wasn’t, so what the hell were they thinking? You’re not doing anything different than you were doing leading up to this. You’re still just pressing buttons based on prompts. If you die.. and you probably will since the timing of this room can be brutal.. you have to watch this whole sequence again, from Singe’s nearly waking up to Daphne’s striptease-instructional video. No means to skip it. It’s torturous to sit through even once since a game about constant action-reaction now suddenly has you just standing around waiting for the game part to start again. AND YOU HAVE TO REWATCH IT EVERY TIME YOU DIE! I get they probably wanted this room to feel climatic, but when you’re playing a game called DRAGON’S Lair and you slay a dragon and rescue the girl, that ought to be climatic enough. It’s one of the worst finales to a game I’ve ever seen. It ain’t a deal breaker, but it almost was. I had to think about it.

I actually didn’t kill Singe here. He died of old age after hearing the unskippable dialog for the three-dozenth time.

Okay, so Dragon’s Lair didn’t exactly stick the landing in its final act. But, everything up to that point is a lot better than I’ve ever given it credit for. It’s not fantastic or anything, but I enjoyed my time with it. Just think, all it took was basically creating the perfect FMV game to get me to finally say YES! to one of these things. And yet, I still wasn’t sure why the generation before me holds this up so fondly. Why they still get starry-eyed as they share tales of epic failure and sessions that lasted under a minute, or gathering around to watch that one weirdo who blew his life savings memorizing every sequence. Despite its relatively short window of fame, brutal difficulty, and all the truly-awful games in the franchise that followed, Dragon’s Lair is still a game you want to enjoy. Why is that? I have to believe it’s for more than just the Don Bluth animation, or the hilarious yelps and squeals of Dirk the Daring, or what is just alright gameplay that is ultimately probably the best the format is capable of. So, I again asked myself: what could have possibly made those memories of Dragon’s Lair echo so loudly across the decades?

These two would go on to have ten kids.

I think I have the answer. Because the set pieces and art and characters all came together to make what players in 1983 wanted games to be like, but they weren’t. Not yet. Although it wasn’t their intention, Dragon’s Lair feels like a promise to gamers: this is where the medium is going. One day, games will look and sound this good and have action this exciting, only it will be you in control. Well, we all know what happened over the next forty years. Dragon’s Lair survives through history because it represents the promise of gaming kept.
Verdict: YES! **FLIP**

Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp
Released June 16, 1991
Designed by Rick Dyer
Directed by Don Bluth

Pictured: Cathy’s brain melting from peeling back all the layers of awfulness from Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp.

If I was too hard on Dragon’s Lair before, I wasn’t hard enough on Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp. Talk about losing the plot! This sequel forgot literally everything that made the original game (and some of Space Ace) work. Dragon’s Lair, for all of its FMV-based flaws, still does everything in its power to look like a video game adventure. Time Warp doesn’t at all. It’s a series of disconnected animated vignettes that completely fails in every imaginable way. In the annals of bad games, it’s astonishing that nobody ever brings this one up. Perhaps because it’s an FMV game and that’s too low of a low-hanging fruit. Perhaps because the Don Bluth animation is so beautiful and vibrant. Perhaps because the nine segments of the game are so memorably bonkers that you wonder if the game was co-written by cocaine. But, actually playing Dragon’s Lair II, it’s shocking how many different ways a simple FMV sequel to the FMV game of the Golden Age could be so bad. How could they get it so wrong?

Time Warp starts off with Dirk’s mother-in-law trying to murder the man who rescued her daughter in the first place and is likely the only person capable of rescuing her again. In terms of intelligence, the apple fell about two inches from the tree on that one.

The most obvious problem with Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp is that it really doesn’t make any effort at all to feel like a video game. In Dragon’s Lair, the game randomized all but the first and last levels of the game. It worked there because they were all short and they all flowed seamlessly into each-other. Time Warp’s nine levels are longer, linear, and with the exception of the first level, have no checkpoints at all. They’re also all, more or less, self-contained animated shorts that don’t fit-in with each-other. The moments where it feels like they were trying to animate some form of a video game trope in order to invoke the expectations of what a game should be like are few and far between. In Dragon’s Lair or Space Ace, whether you were swinging across ropes, timing when to move between spikes, leaping across platforms, or fighting monsters, the designers created the illusion that you were controlling Dirk and Dexter (well, until they forgot to do that in Space Ace too). Time Warp feels like a totally disconnected animated short that someone surgically grafted button prompts onto.

This is Eve. As in Adam & Eve. As in the Garden of Eden, which is the fourth stage of the game. Whereas Dragon’s Lair felt like an actual video game where a knight searches a castle looking for a damsel in distress, Time Warp feels like a series of two-minute-long Silly Symphony clips that someone attached a video game to long after the fact. Which isn’t far off from the truth. The Alice in Wonderland sequence for Dragon’s Lair II debuted on television in 1984 and the game was apparently fully completed between 1984 and 1986. It never came out until 1991 thanks to the bankruptcy of Cinematronics.

They must have realized how poorly flowing this would work as a video game, so in Time Warp, every single move does the yellow flashing prompt. You’d think that would make this the most playable game, but often the actions are too brief and the visuals so loud that you might need a couple lives to see them. Of course, every time you die on a stage, even if it’s the very last move on that level before you finish it, you have to start all the way over at the beginning. These aren’t teeny tiny rooms, like in Dragon’s Lair. These levels last over a minute of basically non-stop quick-time events where one mistake means you have to start over from the beginning. What’s especially annoying is they seem to have animated each level with moments that were clearly meant to be checkpoints. In the first level, you go from being chased by your mother-in-law into entering the castle from the original game, and if you die after the dungeon, you restart from there. Makes sense! Well, even though there’s a moment like that in each of the animated segments that follows, like a turning point in the action, it’s not utilized and you have to start over if you die.

Dragon’s Lair has lots of beautiful art, but it also remembers that players are focused on the game itself. All the stuff happening on the screen is done in service to the gameplay. Dragon’s Lair II is filled with sight-gags and small details that you will die if you watch, because you’re not focusing on the next button prompt. I’m sure this was done in service to the days where people would gather around and watch someone play the game, but it’s a game that constantly forgets it’s game.

It stinks of a game that has no interest in giving players value. Instead, Dragon’s Lair II is completely focused on trying to squeeze as many quarters as possible. But, if you thought the lack of checkpoints was greedy, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp gates players out of the final two levels unless they find all eleven magical items that are hidden throughout the first seven stages. It’s a sleazy move that made me feel unclean as I played it. Imagine playing through this in an arcade in 1991 and being interested in it enough that you spend enough money to GIT GUD and make it past the Ancient Egyptian level (ironically the only level in the entire game that feels remotely like the first game), and then suddenly the game just restarts from the beginning because you didn’t gather all items. In a game where you have a single second to make a decision, and ten times it will flash in two directions at once because one of the choices has the item, and you have to choose correctly, going ten for eleven, or else you.. keep going but actually will now have to replay the whole game from scratch eventually too. What a load of crap. Also, yes, ten times. For the playing card in stage three, they didn’t bother to animate the indicator that it’s one of the items you must get. Even worse: because of the Alice in Wonderland theme of that level, you wouldn’t even think that it’s THE item. It’s just right there and blended seamlessly with the rest of the design. Actually, some of the items that do flash do so in very visually-loud sections. The butterfly in the Beethoven stage is practically invisible!

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I should also note that the arcade game had a scoring system that was removed completely from the home version. I didn’t even know that until I started researching whether the arcade game actually told players anywhere that they HAD to get the treasures to finish the game. It does.. at the bottom of a three-second long instruction screen that is briefly seen during the extended attract mode that runs on an over one-minute long cycle. It’s shamefully greedy on the same level that Ghosts ‘n Goblins forced full-replay was. Even worse: logically the way to not screw players is to make them only replay the levels where they missed an item, right? Well, Dragon Lair II has contempt for its players, so you have to replay the whole game from the start. Wow. Leland Corporation’s bankruptcy was well-deserved after pulling crap like that, and good riddance.

The best scene in the entire game is the eighth level, where Mordroc actually gets the Death Ring on Princess Daphne, who turns into Ganon if Ganon were a drag queen. BUT, if you play the Director’s Cut, this never happens. It starts exactly the same, with Mordroc clearly putting the Death Ring on Daphne and Dirk throwing his sword through his arm. Then, the scene changes from the original, and suddenly Daphne is out of the shot and the Death Ring isn’t on her. In a shorter, more plodding and less fun scene, you dodge Mordroc’s attacks before knocking the ring onto his finger. The one good call this game made was going with the Monster Daphne sequence. Too bad everything leading up to it was an unprecedented disaster.

So, that’s Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp. I have nothing positive to say about it as a game. Dragon’s Lair wanted you to feel like you were in control of Dirk. Dragon’s Lair II feels like it wants you to appreciate the amazing art of Don Bluth while it shakes you down for quarters. We can do that without this button prompt stuff or the schoolyard bully robbing you of your lunch money routine this game pulls. The on-screen action feels completely disconnected from the controller. The item collecting system and lack of checkpoints practically makes Dragon’s Lair II a mugging. It’s astonishing to me that the same people who crapped all over the Sega CD’s Mighty Morphin Power Rangers game for having absolutely nothing to do with the on-screen prompts rewarded Dragon’s Lair II with raving reviews when it did the exact same thing. If you want to know whether a game critic is shallow or not, see if they did a review of Dragon’s Lair II, and if they did, see how much they focused on the incredible artwork and not on how it factors into video game logic. Because this is BAD. As in I literally can’t believe nobody brought this stuff up in 1991. Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp should be listed among the worst arcade games ever made. Sure is pretty, though.
Verdict: NO!

Space Ace
Released December 21, 1983
Designed by Rick Dyer
Directed by Don Bluth

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I spent the last three days going back and forth on whether Space Ace would get a YES! or a NO! On one hand, I think it’s the most beautiful game in the trilogy, with a fun theme, an awesome concept, and a white-knuckle pace. On the other hand, like Dragon’s Lair II, it forgets it’s a video game and not an animated short about two-thirds of the way through it. It’s also the most frustrating from a technical point of view, as with-or-without the move guide, the timing of Space Ace in certain aspects feels like it genuinely isn’t lined-up properly with the on-screen action. This game was rushed through production, and it shows.

Fun Fact: Don Bluth himself provides the voice of both the villainous Borf and Dark Dexter, while animator Will Finn (who later worked for Disney during the 90s on basically every one of their good movies from that time period) provides the voice of Ace. I’ve been playing video games my entire life and, trust me, I know how bad things can be when developers grab whoever is handy, be it Sally in Accounting or John from Human Resources to do voice work. For someone who is NOT a professional voice actor by trade, Finn does a dang good job voicing Dexter. I’d genuinely never guessed this wasn’t his actual profession.

As always, the animation is jaw-dropping gorgeous, and the characters are memorable. The story and gameplay also have a tiny bit more going for them. The heroic dude-bro Dexter, aka Space Ace, is emasculated by the villainous Borf and turned into a pathetic weakling. Borf then kidnaps Kimberly and you must go on a daring adventure to rescue her. The twist is that sometimes you can “energize” and turn back into the big, buff, cocky Ace. There are times where, if you don’t do this, you die. But, most of the time, energizing branches the game into different types of sequences. There’s also a lot more “choose a random direction” moments, but since you’ll have to play out every scene anyway, there’s no point in having these. It only creates the illusion of unseen areas. It’s fine, but the problem is that Space Ace doesn’t put it all together properly and sort of ruins the whole experience in the process.

When Space Ace tries to invoke video game tropes like patterns and timing, it might actually be better than Dragon’s Lair. Take this scene in the first “level.” I mean.. look at that! That looks exactly like something you would see in a video game, right? A 2D timing challenge. If you’re going to do a fully-animated FMV video game that aspires to create the illusion that you’re actually controlling the character, yep, that’s the way to do it. But, at some point, it forgot to do these parts.

Like Dragon’s Lair, you have to repeat every major set piece and room once. But, unlike Dragon’s Lair, instead of mixing up the order, in Space Ace (at least on the highest difficulty setting), every sequence that repeats is done back-to-back. You play a room once, and then the screen goes black for a split-second and then it just repeats, only mirrored. It’s so lazy and jarring and it takes the wind right out of Space Ace’s sails. I cringed every single time it happened. Honestly, in Dragon’s Lair, I came to appreciate the mirrored levels. “Alright, I’ve done this room! What was the order?” I’d ask myself. That excitement wasn’t there for Space Ace because I literally just did this section. And, unlike Dragon’s Lair, which is set in a castle that would have many rooms, in Space Ace the narrative doesn’t lend itself at all to the repeating rooms. Not one bit. It’s Dexter running down an identical corridor, being caught in an identical plastic bag, energizing at the exact same moment with the exact same pose.. it’s just so badly done. Not even comically bad, but just sadly bad.

The flashing that was used in Dragon’s Lair and especially Dragon’s Lair II occasionally happens in Space Ace, but sometimes it doesn’t. Like right here, it doesn’t at all. I can’t imagine playing without the move guide, where the timing is totally guesswork. In fact, I’ve heard Space Ace machines had the joysticks wear out a lot from people slamming them in the direction repeatedly. If you were wondering, here you would press LEFT.

And then you get to the areas where the on-screen action stops feeling like a video game and starts feeling like an animated short that someone just super-glued button prompts onto. This is the game I could make the least progress on without the guide. The game just plain quits helping sometimes, and guessing which direction was the correct direction, or WHEN to press the buttons for that matter, was purely luck-based. But, even when the indicator lights do flash, at some point a clear disconnect between controller actions and story narrative happens. The motorcycle sequence and the battle with Borf feel like just an ordinary cartoon where you have to press a button every couple seconds to make it play. It’s no longer directed like a video game. It’s just a cartoon by that point. Which.. I guess that’s what all three of these games are, but what I mean is that it no longer feels like you’re playing Space Ace. You’re just advancing it.

The end sequence sealed the NO! for this one. As an animated short, it’s satisfying, but as a video game, it’s a bit of a nonsensical disaster.

To Space Ace’s credit, it provided one final gaming highlight for me in 2022. I’d partially written these reviews for an abandoned article in 2021, and I needed to replay the games just to make sure I could. With my reaction time fading, it was basically now-or-never for this feature. While playing Space Ace, I game overed fairly quickly. Well, it turned out to be my only game over. To my absolute shock, I ran the table from there, losing a couple lives but still beating the game without needing another continue. What the fudge? ME? Are you kidding me? That felt really amazing. No joke. The lives I lost were of the “something about the button timing and the animation doesn’t seem to match-up at all” variety, but I didn’t mess-up after that. It felt great!

By the way, there’s both a Dragon’s Lair and Space Ace animated series by Ruby-Spears. In the Space Ace cartoon, which unlike Dragon’s Lair was done as part of the Saturday Supercade lineup, Kimberly is voiced by Nancy “Bart Simpson” Cartwright. I tried to watch these cartoons but I found them to be poison for the brain.

On the other hand, I pulled this monster final score off by not even watching the cartoon at all and instead focusing completely on the move guide. That’s what ultimately made the difference with these two games. With Dragon’s Lair, you can both enjoy the spectacle and play the game at the same time. It’s not a visually busy game. Space Ace always has a LOT going on, and if you take even a microsecond to appreciate that, you might find yourself losing a life. And now, it makes sense why nobody trades tales of Space Ace despite looking every bit as visually impressive as Dragon’s Lair. The fact that the first game proves you can get away with a visually nice animated game guided by a series of quick time events means I can’t excuse it for Space Ace. It needed to take a less-is-more approach, and it didn’t. Most telling of all: while I thought Dragon’s Lair II was more distracting, I actually scored lower on Space Ace in my quiz test. This was the game where Dyer and Booth lost their way.
Verdict: NO!

FINAL RANKINGS

How I determined the rankings is simple: I took the full list of games, then I said “I’m forced to play one game. Pick the one I could play the most and not get bored with.” That goes on top of the list. Then I repeat the question again with the remaining games over and over until the list is complete. Based on that simple criteria, here are the final rankings. Games above the Terminator Line received a YES! Games below it received a NO!

  1. Dragon’s Lair
    **TERMINATOR LINE**
  2. Space Ace
  3. Dragon’s Lair II: Time Warp

I seriously can’t believe I did that score though.

Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum (Review)

I didn’t grow-up with Garbage Pail Kids. I was born in 1989, and the final set of stickers during the original 80s fad was set to release that year, but it got cancelled. After looking at the archives at the excellent resource site GeePeeKay, yea, good call that was. I mean, Christ! That’s some sick shit in those cards. It feels like, by the end, Garbage Pail Kids became more about being mean-spirited, like they were trying to deliberately bait controversy because that grew the franchise in the first place. Having said that, I wasn’t unfamiliar with the brand. When my Godfather’s son gave me his comic book collection when I was six, the boxes they came in were covered in GPK stickers. Plus Topps occasionally revived them for brief comebacks starting in the 2000s. Hell, for a while, my LaserDisc collecting father had the god awful Garbage Pail Kids movie listed on his “treasure hunt” list of discs he hadn’t added to his collection (in turns out it never even released on LD, maybe. There’s still debate on if it came out in Japan, I think). It’s one of those brands that an outsider looking-in can’t believe was as big as it was at its height. It was easily bigger in the 80s than the 90s fads of MY childhood like Tamagotchi or Furbies. I’m telling you, I would have made a much better child of the 80s than I was as a 90s kid. I mean, have you seen how shitty our Transformers looked? And don’t even get me started on our Voltron!

MIND BLOWN!!

Of course, the one thing missing from Garbage Pail Kids was a video game. 1984 was too late to end up on the Atari 2600, and it never would have been on Colecovision for.. uh.. obvious reasons. Nintendo would never have allowed the brand on the NES because they used to think bodily fluids were the devil’s brew, and Sega didn’t get cool until 1991. Garbage Pail Kids just had shitty timing all around to transition to gaming, really. And that’s why the real story behind Retrotrainment’s Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum literally, no joke, brought tears to my eyes. Because kids of the 80s used to spread rumors that they heard a Garbage Pail Kids game was FOR SURE coming to the NES, even claiming they’d seen it listed in game magazines. It never actually happened, because no such game was ever in development. Since kids knew it had to be coming because their friend said their uncle worked at Nintendo and told them it was happening, they assumed Nintendo had put the screws to it. Well, it took 35 years, but someone did something about it! Retrotainment teamed with The Goldbergs writer Adam F. Goldberg and Topps Trading Cards to make that mid-80s elementary school recess fantasy come true. They even created an elaborate meta story behind the game that it WAS developed in the mid-80s, then cancelled and buried until the ROM was unearthed in 2022. The trailer for this was so convincing that my friend Ryan was open to the possibility it was actually true. It’s absolutely criminal this video only has 11K views as of this writing. This just did not find its audience, and that’s heartbreaking.

That’s why I hadn’t even heard of this new Garbage Pail Kids game leading up to this week. Somehow, it just didn’t spread through social media. So, for those who don’t know, this is a 2022 NES game that you can actually pre-order now on cartridge. OR you can buy it right now for all modern platforms, where it plays on the same excellent NES emulator by Digital Eclipse used in collections like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Cowabunga Collection or SNK 40th Anniversary. If you buy this on Nintendo Switch, Xbox, PlayStation, or Steam, it comes with a boatload of extras. On the emulation side of things, you get a fully-loaded “Infinity Gauntlet of Emulation” which is my term for the six key “Gems” of emulation: save states, rewind, flicker removal, screen filters, button mapping, and a full tool-assisted play-through video that lets you take control of the action any time you want. Media extras include the soundtrack, two short films (including the above trailer), concept art, and more. My favorite feature was the side-by-side comparisons of the real GPK cards and their in-game 8-bit counterparts (48 total characters from the cards are used somewhere in the game). I got a kick out of seeing how close some of the game sprites came to the real cards, while others weren’t even in the ballpark.

And now I want a sequel more than I want to live to be 60.

Of course, if the game itself was no good, all these extras would be downright obnoxious. Which would be fitting for Garbage Pail Kids, and then I could crack jokes like “it belongs in the trash.” But alas, it’s one of the best original NES games of the homebrew era. Seriously, no joke, this is a phenomenal platformer. The meta concept of “lost 1986 – 88 licensed NES game” had me worried. Let’s face it: most licensed games on the NES from that era sucked, with rare exceptions like Goonies II or Capcom’s work on Disney properties. A developer aspiring to pay a mostly-accurate homage to both Garbage Pail Kids and 80s licensed games could have turned in a barely playable LJN-like effort and said “GET IT?” But, instead, Retrotainment gave us a game that feels genuinely true to the GPK license while also serving as a proper tribute to the best licensed 8-bit efforts from companies like Konami and Capcom. Nice graphics. Really good play control. Feels like they weren’t just stuck with the brand as part of a cash grab and they’d rather be doing anything else. No, this is a labor of love, and you feel it every single second of gameplay.

The humongous bosses feature some really impressive graphics. YES, you can sometimes “see the seams” of how they’re really not that big (this one here is a good example, the arms never move) but it feels so gosh-darn true to the time period that you can’t help but be charmed. Most importantly, all six bosses are fun.

You have four player characters, six decently-sized levels, six very fun boss fights, and extras to collect. I’ll start with the one and only major complaint: Garbage Pail Kids is let down by very mediocre sound design. I’ve never been a sound or music person, as I have legitimate physical issues that muck up music for me. But just the sound effects alone really take the punch out of GPK. It’s a really light, overly-conservative set of sound effects that just didn’t work for me, and in fact, it took away greatly from the OOMPH of the combat. In eleven years of doing game reviews, I can count on one hand the amount of times sound effects were so poorly done that they stood out to me, and I’m not happy they happened here, because most everything else is really nice.

Enemies comically fly off-screen when you kill them. That part works, but I just hate how little pizzazz there is to the sound effects. This is one of those games that I hope other developers study, where the whole game is incredibly fun and polished to the point that it makes you wonder how they got the sound so wrong?

There’s also some inconsistencies with collision boxes, especially when using the main Mad Mike character. It’s never a deal breaker, and the collision issues almost universally favor the player, but it also combines with the poor catalog of sound effects (and I don’t think the music is very good either, but again, that I can’t claim expertise in) to take away from the action feeling like it has real-world weight, velocity, and inertia to it. Imagine if you played Super Mario 1 and you went to stop a Goomba, and the stomp happened with visible distance between you and it, AND that famous Mario “WOO BOOP” sound when you do the stomp was instead a subdued “pff.” I’ve always said gameplay is king, but GPK is a prime example of how skimping on sound becomes distracting. In a game as good as this, that one area being really bad sticks out like a sore thumb. Which is probably a GPK card, come to think of it.

Garbage Pail Kids were “Trading Card Stickers” and the “trading” part is worked into the game with a fairly good system. Each stage has a guide character that you’ll encounter throughout the level who offers you tips and then offers to trade cards with you. There’s 39 cards total to collect. 4 of them actually can be used for special abilities in the game, the most valuable of which brings a character you’ve run out of health with back to life. 35 of the cards are for decoration only and can either be acquired via trading or by finding them randomly in garbage cans placed around the stage. When you trade, each card is assigned a 1 – 10 value, and you must trade cards equal to the value (or within one point) to get a trade to happen. Do you know what part of GPK lore they didn’t use? STICKERS! Gotta save something for the sequel, I suppose. (Shakes Fist) AND THERE BETTER BE A SEQUEL!! So help me God, I can’t be responsible for actions if there isn’t one!

Now, let’s get to the great stuff: if Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum had really come out in 1988, it would be remembered as a legend of the NES era. The six levels are all incredibly fun to explore, especially so with how they designed the player characters. You swap between the four on the fly with the SELECT button. Each of the four characters has unique abilities, and three of the four are so different that they fundamentally change the sub-genre of the game. Use Mad Mike and GPK feels like a 2D sword game, something like Rastan or Wizards & Warriors where you have to attack enemies directly (the bonus to this is he does the most damage). Use Leaky Lindsay to essentially turn GPK into a gun-based platformer like Mega Man or Contra as she fires snot projectiles at enemies. I used her the most. Use Patty Putty and the gameplay feels really different, as GPK becomes a Mario-like hop ‘n bop style game. The only of the four who feels like he’s not world-altering is Luke Puke, who can vomit out puddles which are effective on enemies below you. I used him the least, BUT, I did find plenty of uses for him. The level design feels like it’s well-suited for all four characters and has sections designed with specific characters in mind. It’s like a very gross, lower-budget Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon, only with just as much vampires.

Hiroshi Yamauchi is doing backflips in his grave.

Each of the six levels (sorry, no finale level or ultimate boss), which can be taken in any order, feel completely unique from each-other and there’s not a stinker in the bunch. None really stand-out, either, but I mean that in a good way. Garbage Pail Kids is that rare game where the level design is consistently fun from start to finish. There’s no weak-links and plenty of surprises. A stage themed around dinosaurs suddenly has a summer camp area. A stage themed around hell suddenly has a cafeteria. The team behind this really stretched their imaginations on this one and created a dazzling variety of settings that you want to see more of. My only real complaint is the rare blind jump, and even then, you actually can sort of circumvent them (or peek at the jump by holding down). There’s a nice assortment of enemies, only one of which I was annoyed by (a girl being struck by lightning, which caused a screen flashing. I don’t have seizures as badly as I used to but that stuff can still make me pretty sick). If I had to complain, I wish they did more with locating buttons to open doors, as I liked the exploration elements most of all. Plus, the difficulty felt just right for me. There’s four adjustable difficulty levels, and you can make your own challenge.

Some “fans” are actually demanding that Retrotainment and Digital Eclipse remove the multiple difficulty settings and emulation options and make GPK “Nintendo Hard.” I’m really not kidding. Can you imagine how full of yourself you have to be to demand a developer not try to make a game for as many people as possible? First off, how fucking insecure must you be in your own ability to just not use those options if you don’t want them? It’d be like an alcoholic going into a bar and demanding they stop selling drinks. So, Mr. MAKE IT NINTENDO HARD, is it that you have no self-control, or is that your way of trying to brag to the world you’re some kind of master player on the down low, because either way is laughable. Also, if you ever used a guide or a cheat code back in the day, or a Game Genie, bitch, you ain’t no more Nintendo Hard than anyone who uses rewind on an emulator. I wonder how many of these people who cry about rewind or save states can recite the Konami Code by heart. Seems like people who demand Nintendo Hard shouldn’t be able to do that, right?

Garbage Pail Kids also never strays from platforming, but given that it can often be disastrous when platformers veer too far off course, that might have been the right call. Instead, there are two mini-games, one of each hidden in every stage. Outhouses take you to a button mashing mini-game that I hated. I can’t mash buttons these days. I even had to have my Dad beat one for me, which is pretty sad. I’m 33, he’s 73, and he got it on his first try. The better mini-game is Buggy Betty’s. She’s hidden in every stage and offers a usable card if you can complete an electric maze without hitting the walls in three tries or less. There’s no bonus for collecting all 39 cards, but I wanted to anyway. It wasn’t that hard to get them all. I figured out that if you enter and exit a stage over and over, you’ll get a chance to trade for different cards every time. I finished the game with 35 cards and only needed maybe two post-credits minutes to get the remaining four.

The controls for the fly girl mazes were perfect, as was the collision detection. There were some tight squeezes too, like the one seen here. Yet, it was never unfair. Side Note: Buggy Betty is also one of the four super-power cards in the game. Pause the game and activate her card and you turn into her for ten seconds. There was only one section in the entire game I needed to use her, and another where I used Adam Bomb’s clear-all-the-enemies power.

Garbage Pail Kids for the NES (and by virtue of emulation, all modern consoles) is maybe the biggest surprise I’ve come across in years at Indie Gamer Chick. I’m stunned by how much I loved my time with it (which was only about two hours of total playtime, maybe). I was NOT this game’s target audience. I’m NOT nostalgic for Garbage Pail Kids. I think Garbage Pail Kids are stupid and gross and I don’t get the appeal in them at all. Transformers I get. G.I. Joe I get. Garbage Pail Kids? What the hell, 80s kids? Garbage Pail Kids are fucking disgusting! Yuck! So, being immune to GPK memberberries, this had to stand entirely on its gameplay merits. Boy, does it. It’s one of 2022’s best games, indie or otherwise. It’s a genuinely great game. Ignoring the sound design issues, everything about this works. As I neared the end of the final level, I didn’t want my time with GPK to be over! The entire time, my enthusiasm to see what came next never dipped even a little bit. The bosses, especially, were both fun to battle and felt like amazing rewards, like proper boss fights should feel. With no a smidge of love for the source material, I walked away from Garbage Pail Kids thinking “you heartless bastards better support this because I WANT MORE! I need a sequel and I need it like five minutes ago!”

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Garbage Pail Kids as an IP means nothing to me. BUT, it meant something to the people who came together to make Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum. I’m always mindful when I review games at IGC that whether I love them or hate them, they could very well be something that the developers had in mind from the time they were little kids. My job here is to play and review those dreams. But, it’s rare that the dream in question actually gets to use the actual dream license from the designer’s childhood. Usually, they have to “file the serial number off” it and do their own creation. This is one of those very rare instances where the dream came completely true: working with the license, and making the game they always dreamed of. Imagine how hard it would be to say THAT game sucked. Thankfully, I’m off the hook. Garbage Pail Kids is a wonderful game by an elite indie developer, one of 2022’s best video games, and one of the best indies I’ve ever played. It feels true to the license, true to the time frame it was supposed to have been “lost” from, and most importantly, true to the dream. And it’s a dream come true. How can you not admire that? And now, by virtue of making this game, some kids that talked about how they heard a Garbage Pail Kids game was coming to the NES on a playground at school in the 80s have now become part of that very franchise’s lore.. forever. If that doesn’t bring a tear to your eye, you have no heart. Hell, I bet they even made a GPK card of that, too.

Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum is Chick-Approved
Leaderboard Ranking: #16 of 305 Indie Gamer Chick-Approved Indie Games*
Top 97.5 Percentile of All 639 IGC-Reviewed Indie Games
Top 94.8 Percentile of All 305 IGC-Approved Indie Games
*Rankings based on time of publication. Check the Leaderboard for updated standings.

Garbage Pail Kids: Mad Mike and the Quest for Stale Gum was developed by Retrotainment
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, PlayStation, Steam, NES Cart (Limited Edition)

$9.99 said “there’s only one Cathy with a C card in the history of GPK? OH COME ON TOPPS YOU BUTTHOLES” in the making of this review. I will not stand for this discrimination of Cathys with Cs. Everyone knows the Kathy with a Ks are objectively awful people!

YOU HEARTLESS BASTARDS: Escape Goat (Nintendo Switch Review)

 

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m listed in the Special Thanks area of the Escape Goat’s credits. I had nothing to do with its production and was listed by developer Ian Stocker out of gratitude for my efforts as an evangelist for Xbox Live Indie Games in general and Escape Goat specifically. He also stuck Sweetie, my mascot, in Escape Goat 2 as an Easter Egg. If that sounds too lovey-dovey, I should note that I  *REALLY* wanted Escape Goat for the Indie Gamer Chick Bundle for Indie Royale in 2013, which was a bundle I curated with them that was based around the best PC conversions of Xbox Live Indie Games. I didn’t make any money for that, either. I don’t want to. This is my hobby, not my career. Anyway, Ian declined, and since that day I’ve had to call him daily to tell him where I’ve hidden the antidote to the lethal posion I put in his tea. Oh Ian, BTW, it’s behind the couch cushion today. NO, not that one. The love seat. On the left. There you go. Hey, don’t give me that look. YOU’RE the one who left me explaining with a straight face that Little Racers: Street was among the best games on XBLIG, you heartless bastard. Okay, on with the review…….OH HEY, heartless bastard! I have an award for that!

Like OMG Zombies before it, Escape Goat isn’t a You Heartless Bastards “winner” that nobody played. It did okay on various platforms eleven years ago. So, what’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t most indie developers kill for “okay” sales and awareness? Of course they would. But, most developers don’t have games that are this good. That feel decidedly old-school, like a more platforming-centric Solomon’s Key, but also quintessentially modern, like Celeste if it made mozzarella cheese. They don’t have razor-sharp play control, or the perfect balance of testing your brains and raw reaction time, never putting one above the other. There’s thousands of good indie games out there. This very blog has cataloged hundreds over the last eleven years. Escape Goat was one of the first I reviewed, and having just played its re-release on Nintendo Switch eleven years later, it’s still one of the very best. So, forgive me for this predictable outburst, but..

YOU HEARTLESS BASTARDS!

How could you let an excellent game like Escape Goat slip through the cracks of history?

Yea, a big part of it going so far under the radar is it got its start on Xbox Live Indie Games. So did I, and like me, it’s been stuck with a following that can be generously described as modest at best. But, at least I have a valid excuse: I ain’t everybody’s cup of tea. On the surface, Escape Goat doesn’t seem like it will be either. It’s a puzzler, and eleven years of staring at my traffic figures has given me an inkling that puzzlers are a tough sell for most gamers. So, what if I told you that Escape Goat is really an action game and that puzzles are the setting but not necessarily the genre?

Solomon’s Key is the closest comparison, and I’m not exactly thrilled to make it on the grounds that it’s not exactly the most famous game of its era, either. Shame, because Solomon’s Key is a damn fine game. You might see me mention in at some point this week on my Twitter timeline, hint hint.

Challenging people’s perceptions of genres is my go-to argument when I try to convince any game’s apprehensive hold-outs to give it a shot. While I’m always sincere, sometimes it can seem like I’m grasping at straws. Like, for example, trying to convince people that Shadow of the Colossus is actually secretly a horror-suspense masterpiece. Thankfully, in the case of Escape Goat, the argument isn’t ambiguous. It is an action game. What struck me most about my replay over the last couple weeks is how my platforming skills carried me to victory a lot more than my puzzle solving ability. Of the over the fifty levels, only a couple made me really stop to think-through the solution. Escape Goat’s puzzle design is simple to reverse-engineer, since it’s built around switches and buttons, some one-time use only, that alter the layout of the level. Sometimes the switches move around the walls, or unveil hidden platforms, or they set-off a chain reaction. It’s usually not hard to figure out what button order will take you to victory. If you mess up, restarting only takes about a second (can’t stress enough that quick-resets are the secret sauce for games like this) so experimenting isn’t a slow, painful process, like trying to follow the Kama Sutra.

This looks like some kind of complicated multi-faceted puzzle that will take a while to work out. In reality, this is a precision-jumping level with a self-evident solution that presents itself to even novice players quickly. Escape Goat leans heavily on thinking on your feet. All four of them. Many puzzles leave you dead within seconds if you don’t start moving, and others, like this one, require you to sprint from point-A to point B when the coast is clear.

So, don’t think Adventures of Lolo or Baba is You. Think Super Meat Boy if the levels were based around brain teasers. You even get a double jump, along with some of the most intuitive movement/jumping physics the genre has. There’s really only one enemy: a grim reaper that shoots fireballs at you when you cross in front of them. Oh, and their fireballs just as often factor into a room’s solution as they do its challenge. Mostly, you die at the hands of environmental hazards, like saw blades or moving platforms. You have to press the right button/switches to grab the keys and open the door. BUT, you have to get to them first, and more than Solomon’s Key, Escape Goat bases that on platforming than puzzling. You get a mouse that can walk up walls, hit buttons for you, and go through small gaps you can’t squeeze through. But, sometimes it also acts as your metronome, and you have to time your own movement through the stages as it hits buttons or draws fire for you. Escape Goat has puzzles, and damn good ones. But it’s about precision movement first and foremost. You know, like an action game.

Super Meat Boy is a better comparison than you’d think. There are multiple absolutely nail-biting jumps and near-miss moments throughout the game. Not one-offs. Escape Goat and its later sequel, which hasn’t come to Switch.. yet.. have to be in the conversation for the most white-knuckle puzzlers ever, which is why they withstand the test of time.

Sigh. I want to shoot straight with you, my readers. I’ve been sitting on this review all week. I’ve rewrote it a dozen times, at least. I feel like I already said everything I could about Escape Goat back in 2011 and have nothing to left to add. Besides any new readers, I don’t think I’m going to convince many hold-outs to give Escape Goat a chance. Or, maybe you already bought it and it’s somewhere on the bottom of your ever-increasing to-do pile. I’m guilty of that with hundreds of games. I get it. But, I do wish people, even those not normally inclined, would give Escape Goat a shot. I know this doesn’t sound like the cocky, wicked Indie Gamer Chick of old who gave developers panic attacks just by saying I was starting their game. I don’t take it personally when I unearth a hidden gem and people don’t line up to bite. You can’t. But, when a game that’s great doesn’t achieve success on the level I feel it deserves, it does hurt my heart. 

There’s a game on Steam called Plug Me that is such a clever action game. Simple concept: the timer is also a platform. So simple, yet, it’s so smart. I adore it. I’m charmed by it. I love it! And I’ve cried over it, because nobody knows about it. I reviewed it, but nobody read it. I name drop it constantly, but nobody can find the time to play it. I’ve bought several copies out of pocket for old friends, and for AAA managers and executives, and for content creators. And all that did nothing for it. Not every game finds its audience, and that shouldn’t be okay, should it? It’s not even that highly ranked on the IGC Leaderboard (#72 out of 637 indies I’ve reviewed), but it’s the principle of the matter, you know? Clever games that are well executed should rise to the top, but they often don’t. How can that not break your heart?

That goat was me.

So, this is being posted 3,994 days after I first reviewed Escape Goat. Nearly eleven years later, and I’ve still not played twenty-five indie games better than it. And yet, eleven years later, and it still feels like this precious hidden gem that I know about and a few people who listen to me know about, but it didn’t gain any real traction among general gaming. Look, it did okay. If Steam user reviews are the barometer, it has nearly 400, so it’s not nothing. It’s not like it ate shit and lost money. So, here’s what I say: give it a shot. And then dig through your ever-growing backlog of games you picked up on sale and give some of them a shot. And tell people about them, and do it from different angles. Look for ways to convince people that they really need to give a quality game that only you seem to know about a shot. And if you find the silver bullet that actually works, make sure to let me know.

Escape Goat is Chick-Approved
IGC Leaderboard Ranking: #25 of 303*
Top 96.1 Percentile of All 637 Games Reviewed
Top 91.7 Percentile of All 303 IGC-Approved Indies
*Rankings based on time of publication. Check the Leaderboard for updated standings.

Escape Goat was developed by Magical Time Bean (Published on Switch by Adam Spragg)
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Steam

$4.99 pondered that GOAT now means “greatest of all-time” when it USED to mean “the person who cost their team the championship” and hey, both of those could apply to LeBron James so it works in the making of this review. Now go play games you’ve been sitting on you heartless bastards.

 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection – The Definitive Review (Complete 13 Game Review + Ranking)

Well, everyone liked the Capcom Arcade 2nd Stadium review, and the “definitive review” format has been getting praised. At long last, I finally got the retro collection review style correct. I’ve tried a few styles, but this one seems to be catching on. And what do you know? The perfect collection to test the format out just released.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection is a set of thirteen games released between 1989 and 1993. Well, actually, it’s nine different games. You get both the 1989 Konami coin-op Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the NES conversion Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Arcade Game. Turtles in Time includes both the SNES and Coin-Op versions, and then there’s THREE versions of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters (NES, SNES, and Genesis). So, nine “base” games with four variations are part of this set, right? Actually, it’s even more complicated than that. Hyperstone Heist for the Sega Genesis is really more of a shortened remix of the two arcade games that eliminates the most satisfying attack (throwing the enemies at the screen) from Turtles in Time. And the three Tournament Fighters games are all made by different development teams and aren’t merely variations of one game. While the base concept, a Street Fighter type of game with Ninja Turtles characters remains the same, each of the three games were made by different teams at Konami. They use different engines. They have different rosters. It’s three completely different games that merit their own separate review. Thus, there’s really only two games that are truly variations of the same exact game, and that’s Turtles II for the NES and Turtles IV for the SNES. Like I said, this is a great game to test the Definitive Review format.

Look, Ma! No hands!

The set retails for $39.99. I feel that $4.99 is a fair price for a good retro game from this set, so the target is to score eight YES! verdicts, right? Well, not so fast. Unlike Capcom Arcade 2nd Stadium, The Cowabunga Collection features a wealth of bonus material. I don’t mean like instructions on how to play the games or a couple common emulation features. In my opinion, retro sets have no excuse to not have detailed instructions on how to play the games along with the ability to use save states or rewind. But, Cowabunga Collection goes above and beyond what you’d expect in this type of retro game collection, and thus, I have to put a value on the extras.

EMULATION EXTRAS

Cowabunga Collection features save states and rewind, which are such must-haves that I’m just as likely to penalize a retro collection these days for not including them. That alone would have been enough to satisfy me, even if you can only rewind 30 seconds of gameplay. In my opinion, a minute or longer is optimal. But, they did what they needed to do, and that should have been enough. But the masters of retro gaming, Digital Eclipse, took it a step further with the greatest feature in the history of emulation. Those who remember me drooling over SNK 40th Anniversary Collection’s “watch a full gameplay video that you can stop at any time and join the game at that exact moment” will be happy to hear that feature returns for Cowabunga Collection. I know that it’s actually not that big a deal because of how emulation works, but it’s not as common a feature as I wish it was. To me, it’s practically witchcraft.

Watch the video, which is a perfect no-hit run no matter which game you play. Hit the PLAY GAME button at any time and you take control from there. It’s awesome. I love it.

It came in handy when I played the 1989 NES Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and went to upload media right before I started the infamous underwater sequence. After I finished uploading, I was horrified to see that the game didn’t pause from me using the system guide button. Seriously, I was actually close to penalizing the set for that. Dear game makers: whenever the guide button on any console is hit, pausing the game should be a gimmie. Anyway, I put myself in a position where there wasn’t enough time left for me to beat the stage. But, I was able to use the video to return to that exact spot, like nothing happened. Actually, I was in better shape because the video is a perfect run of the game, with no damage taken. All thirteen games include the video play-through with jump-in ability, and that alone is worthy of a bonus, but we’re just getting started.

While the removal of flicker and slowdown doesn’t save the NES version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from the NO! pile, I’ll note that I played the Technodrome battle with the slowdown/flicker turned on and it was unplayable. I’m VERY happy Digital Eclipse did the right thing and gave people the ability to turn them off. Hell, in my opinion, THAT should have been the default setting and turning them back on should have been the thing that was optional.

In addition to having both the Japanese and US ROMs, all thirteen games have optional “enhancements” of various quality. They’re usually based around cheat codes that required button inputs, and how useful they are isn’t consistent. The NES TMNT offers flicker reduction and slowdown reduction. Neither are 100% perfect, but playing with them turned off, you can easily notice the difference. Turtles 1 is a game that spams the screen with enemies, and bosses like the Technodrome basically have slowdown going non-stop, which also makes the controls less responsive. You can eliminate those issues now in the first TMNT plus the other two NES games. Turtles 2 and 3 on the NES offer other options too, like extra or infinite lives and easier menu navigation. The arcade games offer both “God Mode” (invincibility and one-hit kills) and “Nightmare Mode” (lots more enemies). Turning both God Mode and Nightmare mode on DO make for quite the satisfying brawling experience. The Game Boy games are the least consistent. The first one offers only the ability to practice the bonus game. The second gives you the option for infinite lives and to change which level you start on. The third one offers you only the ability to turn-on a better map. Sure, I wish they had really amazing options for every game, but there’s something helpful that improves the overall quality of every game at least a little bit. Oh, and there’s online play for the two arcade games, Hyperstone Heist on the Genesis, and the SNES version of Tournament Fighters. For all the added emulation extras, I’m crediting $10 to Cowabunga Collection.

EXTRA MEDIA FEATURES

Any licensed game that’s not TMNT-related that appeared alongside a Ninja Turtles game in advertisements is treated like it’s in the witness protection program. Oh and since the LCD games are shown here, WHY DIDN’T WE GET THOSE AS A SUPER DUPER SPECIAL THROWN-IN BONUS? Would have been nice. I did a seven part LCD review series, 100+ games, but apparently nobody emulated the TMNT ones.

There’s a lot of extras in Cowabunga Collection. Hell, there’s so many that Digital Eclipse included the ability to search them in the menu. Dang. There’s boxes and manuals for all the home games from North America and Japan. Regardless of what console you’re on, you’ll see the Nintendo branding and seal of quality in all its glory, along with Sega’s branding on the Genesis game. They even have the arcade schematics too. There’s tons of ads from magazines and catalogs. Those can be weird, because if a Ninja Turtles game shared the space with another game from another IP, the other IP’s game is removed by blacking it out. Also included is every single cover for six different eras of Ninja Turtles comic books and still shots from four different Ninja Turtles TV shows (no Power Rangers crossover, sadly). There’s complete soundtracks and strategy guides for the games, and I actually did use it to help me finish the first NES game. There’s behind-the-scenes documents, and this is where the really good stuff is. Included in this section is stuff the IP’s “style guide” which is what IP holders send to licensees to show them how the characters MUST be drawn. Finally, there’s design documents for seven of the home games that show you concept art, portraits, sprites, storyboards, etc. If you can’t read Japanese, you’ll need to turn on the captions, and I’m not sure why translations weren’t set as a default but I’m happy they’re there. I spent over an hour sorting through the extras and never got bored. For all the media extra features, I’m crediting $10 to Cowabunga Collection.

THE ULTIMATE VERDICT ON THE COLLECTION

Really, only three of the games NEED the built-in strategy guide: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (NES), Radical Rescue (Game Boy, map shown in pic) and the SNES Tournament Fighters (to learn the special moves). But, I’m happy the maps were there. They really went all-out on this set.

Even though I’ve played most of the games in this set before, and in some cases, had already given my complete thoughts on them, I gave all thirteen games a fully clean slate. Only the Cowabunga Collection version of the included games counts for this feature. For those not familiar with my way of thinking of how retro games should be reviewed, I take NO historical context into account. 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 Space Invaders’ 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.

With $20 in credit earned and the value of a good retro Ninja Turtles game fixed at $4.99, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection needs to score four YES! votes to win my seal of approval.

YES!: 5
NO!: 8

indie-gamer-chick-approvedTeenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection is Chick-Approved. Having an official re-release of Turtles in Time for the SNES is a pretty amazing thing, but this collection has a few surprises as well. I didn’t expect to like the original arcade game, and in fact, I enjoyed my time with it a lot. I didn’t expect to like any of the Game Boy games, but two of them were acceptable time wasters. I certainly didn’t expect to enjoy the two hours I spent with Manhattan Project for the NES, yet here we are. Five totally solid Turtles games, emulated to perfection, plus a whole lot of bonus material, makes this a set worthy of purchase.

FINAL RANKINGS

How I determined the rankings is simple: I took the full list of games, then I said “I’m forced to play one game. Pick the one I could play the most and not get bored with.” That goes on top of the list. Then I repeat the question again with the remaining games over and over until the list is complete. Based on that simple criteria, here are the final rankings. Games above the Terminator Line received a YES! Games below it received a NO!

  1. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles IV: Turtles in Time (SNES)
  2. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: The Manhattan Project (NES)
  3. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Arcade)
  4. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Radical Rescue (Game Boy)
  5. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Fall of the Foot Clan (Game Boy)
    **TERMINATOR LINE**
  6. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters (SNES)
  7. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Arcade Game (NES)
  8. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time (Arcade)
  9. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Hyperstone Heist (Genesis)
  10. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (NES)
  11. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters (NES)
  12. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Back from the Sewers (Game Boy)
  13. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters (Genesis)

GAME REVIEWS

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
for Nintendo Entertainment System
Released June 25, 1989

One of my major annoyances with TMNT-NES is how enemies spawn. In this screen, you can see the playfield is spammed with enemies to such a degree that there’s basically no way you won’t take damage. Enemies respawn if you walk off the screen too, which is common on the NES, but TMNT-NES is really weird about how scrolling works, so backing up to have room to fight might scroll the screen more and cause the enemy to respawn before you’ve even killed the original.

By far the most interesting game in Cowabunga Collection is the very first Ninja Turtles game. Don’t mistake that for being “good.” It’s not. TMNT-NES is a complete disaster. But, it’s a compelling disaster. I’ll give it that. Basically, everything that can go wrong does go wrong here. The most important thing is that it feels nothing at all like a Ninja Turtles game. Even with the Turtles and their signature weapons. Even with Bebop, Rocksteady, the Technodrome, and Shredder. I first played Ninja Turtles a couple years ago when I ran through almost the entire NES library, and I walked away with a niggling suspicion that this started development as a completely different game that was converted into TMNT as soon as Konami got the license so they could strike while the IP was red-hot. Apparently, it’s not true. There was no asset flipping or sprites from unused games. They just rushed this through and came up with enemies as fast as possible on the assumption that the Ninja Turtles fad could burn out at any moment. The hurried development shows. The complete lack of polish and unrelenting swarms of enemies that would normally make the NES chug like a freshman at homecoming are things that should never have made it to the final product. The Cowabunga Collection version of TMNT can muffle the slowdown and non-stop flicker (there IS still a bit of both, but nowhere near as noticeable now) but that only makes the terrible design choices of TMNT stand out more.

The Giant Mouser and the Technodrome are the only two boss fights that feel “epic.” The rest feel like fights against normal enemies. If anything, the Mouser fight feels like it’s straight out of Contra.

What annoys me most about TMNT-NES is that there’s a great game buried within this dumpster fire. Not MISSING from the game, but already in the game. Well, actually, this could have used a lot better level design in general, but the basic concept of how the levels work is very solid. I like the idea of traversing an overworld and searching sewers and buildings for the correct pathway to the end of each stage. New York City is maze-like, after all, so why not take advantage of that? I like that part. It’s the only good idea the game had, and even then they bungled it by having too many dead-ends and “red herring” buildings. Sure, there’s pizzas or items in them, but the way enemies respawn often isn’t designed with moving forward and backwards through the levels in mind. Often, you’re better off just running for it and not engaging the enemies at all. If not for the abysmal collision detection.. which is seriously among the worst in the history of video games.. the combat would be pretty satisfying. At least when you use Donatello. His staff is slow but has the most reach and causes the most damage. That’s right: getting poked with a large wooden stick is more lethal in the world of Ninja Turtles than being stabbed or sliced with sharp, pointy metal. If you think of this as Donatello: The Video Game, it works a lot better. With practice, you can even use his unique striking style to damage enemies behind you. Donatello is the man, and I only used the other Turtles if I had acquired a subweapon using them or if I didn’t want to take damage with Donatello. Hell, unless you have the other three Turtles loaded down with sub-weapons, the second-to-last boss, the Technodrome, is pretty much impossible to beat without him. You can’t disable the electric fork in the front with anyone else’s weapon. They don’t have enough range. What was Konami thinking when they green-lit this?

Oh you bastard. You bastard. There’s nothing I can say that others haven’t already said about the infamous underwater sequence. It’s every bit as bad as its reputation suggests. For my money, it’s the worst level in the history of video games. Not even the Speed Bike stage on Battletoads is this bad, because at least there the controls and collision aren’t awful. When you finish this review, go watch this video that explains how the awful collision ruins this stage. It’s truly jaw-dropping how badly coded this game is. You didn’t expect that from Konami games of this era. They were only months away from releasing Castlevania III in Japan when this came out, a contender for the best game on the NES.

For a set that’s loaded with extras, I’m a little more than ticked off that it was never explained anywhere in the game (the original instruction manual or Cowabunga Collection’s built-in strategy guide) that each turtle actually has unique special attributes. Leonardo does the least damage, unless his health falls below four bars, at which point it doubles. Because that’s how swords would work, or something. Raphael has the fastest weapons in the game but can’t do a down-thrust. Michelangelo can’t attack downward either and he has poor range, but like Leonardo, his attack power doubles when he’s under four bars of health. I feel like this is one of the great missed opportunities of the NES era. This isn’t a side-scrolling beat-em-up. It’s a full-fledged platforming adventure with labyrinthine levels. Assigning more unique abilities to each Turtle could have made for a more strategic, enticing game. But that’s not what Konami did. There’s really never a point when you’ll want to use a Turtle besides Donny, and that’s especially damning. Honestly, it feels like everything was put into making level one good, so that kids would rent it and pester their parents to buy it. Pretty much the whole game from level two onward becomes so unfair that I actively wonder why Ghosts ‘n Goblins became the poster child for mean-spirited game design when TMNT outsold it 3 to 1 and is nearly as unfair. For all the crap the dam level gets, that final stretch before you get to Shredder is straight-up bullshit. Then again, most TMNT owners never made it past level three from what I can gather, and 99.9% certainly never made it past the Technodrome.

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After level one, there’s just nothing really enjoyable left to do because TMNT-NES loses all semblance of balance. The enemies can be spongy, cheap, and too quick to respawn. Most of them have literally nothing to do with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise and feel like they’re unused character sprites from horror games or sci-fi games. Not badly designed or ugly character models, but I can’t imagine a child in 1989 understood at all why their TMNT game felt almost nothing like the show or movie or comic they fell in love with. I’m not even a Turtles fan myself, as it had already kind of dried out by time I was the right age for it, and even I’m like “what the hell are all these monsters from?” The answer is not from THE Ninja Turtles franchise. Hell, the Giant Mouser feels like a Contra boss. Speaking of bosses: after a couple hours worth of cheap enemy placement, swarming bosses, and unavoidable damage, I entered the final room with Shredder and beat him without cheating in ten seconds without taking a single hit of damage. If there had been someone in the room with me who had a trumpet, they would have played WOMP WOMP at that moment. Despite all the problems I have with Ninja Turtles, I feel like there really is a potentially great game here. While it never feels like a TMNT game, it always feels distinctly NES Konami-like. If you altered some jumps, tightened the collision detection, eliminated the time limit and changed how swimming works in the underwater area, adjusted the respawning, and gave the empty buildings an actual purpose besides being a wild goose chase for players, TMNT could have been one of THE greats on NES. Of course, what I just said is basically “if you change the whole game, it could have been a masterpiece!” By the way, this was the best-selling 3rd Party NES game of all-time. Go figure, right?
Verdict: NO!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #10 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
for Arcades
Released October 11, 1989

This came out exactly two months after I was born. There’s actually no value to that useless fact, but I figured I would share it.

Being a weirdo, I played the NES port before playing the arcade game. I’m famously not a fan of the Simpsons arcade game, and I thought I wasn’t of the TMNT arcade game. It makes sense, right? Same development team. Same engine. Same sense that the game was rushed to the market to strike while the iron was hot. Now, I’m racking my brain trying to figure out if I ever played the arcade game before. I’m not entirely sure I have, because I had a pretty good time with it. In stark contrast to the slow, plodding, extremely stripped-down NES game that somehow earned a reputation as a really good port, I actually really enjoyed my time playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Arcade Game. A big part of that is that it breezes right on by at an astonishingly fast pace. Compared with the NES port, where after about twenty minutes, I felt like I was going to burst into tears every time I realized I wasn’t on the last level.

Yea yea, you’re supposed to play this multiplayer. Well, my family enjoyed doing the recent indie Shredder’s Revenge with me (yes, it’s an indie) getting them to play retro games is like pulling teeth.

The arcade game has only two major flaws. The first is that the handful of flying enemies feel like they have inaccurate collision boxes compared to the plane of existence you stand on. Lining yourself up to damage them is extremely frustrating. The fight with Baxter Stockman is particularly annoying, and after throwing drop kicks from every angle and hitting around one out of six times, the game gave me a mercy ruling and he just flew away. Wow. Thankfully, the issue with flyers isn’t a deal breaker. The bigger problem with TMNT Arcade is there’s very limited OOMPH! to the fight. Your attacks feel kind of weightless, and that drops this out of the realm of “best brawlers” because you need that sense of violence for immersion. So, it’s remarkable that I still had a good time.

The only truly putrid element of TMNT Arcade is the Baxter Stockman fight. It’s not just lining up to score a hit that’s a pain in the ass. He drops too many mousers, which require you to button mash to escape. It’s a terrible arena for the battle too. I hated everything about this fight. The only thing the NES port did better was this part.

But, I never got bored with the gameplay. Konami stretched a lot satisfying combat out of two button gameplay. Satisfying enough, in fact, that I opted not to simply spam the special attack that kills foot soldiers in one hit. This is before those type of attacks came at the price of a sliver of health, but I enjoyed using my basic attacks, and often did. That’s something that’s completely gone from the NES game. The moments where the bad guys attack from every angle don’t even frustrate, because it feels true to the spirit of the property. As far as licensed games from this era go, the original arcade TMNT has to be among the best at making the game feel like the IP. The bosses, especially early ones, aren’t the total sponges. TMNT Arcade’s bosses are basically the prototype for the “Konami Style Brawler Boss” that I adore. The last couple do get borderline spongy, but it feels climatic. Shredder’s one-hit instakill felt a bit “quick! Wring every last quarter out of the little bastards” cynical, but otherwise, I had a lot of fun with the 1989 TMNT arcade game, and I didn’t expect to at all.
Verdict: YES!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #3 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Arcade Game
for the Nintendo Entertainment System
Released December 14, 1990

The Shredder fight is especially tedious. He clones himself, and you can only tell which is the real one by knocking his helmet off. At this point, the fake one usually hangs out close by the real one so that you accidently kill it, at which point another spawns. Oh and the instakill death ray is bullshit. At least here, it’s doesn’t feel like it’s trying to squeeze as many last-second quarters out of players as possible, I guess. Oh, and play the JP version if you insist on playing this, where the dropkick causes as much damage as the special attack, and the SP attack is easier to do.

Calling the NES port of the arcade Ninja Turtles “boring” is sacrilege to an entire generation that came before me, but I’ll proudly wear the blasphemer tag before I say anything nice about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Arcade Game. It’s boring. Like, really boring. This is NOT a good port of the arcade game. I was stunned when I played the arcade game after playing this and saw how many more moves just hitting the attack button could do. In addition to the normal attack, Donatello could lift enemies up over his head and throw them, a fairly satisfying move. That’s gone here. In fact, I didn’t want to use basic attacks at all because the enemies tended to counter attack them too quickly. That left only two other options: the lone type of drop kick you get (the arcade version gives multiple) and the power attack that kills all the foot soldiers in one hit. Levels take a lot longer to slog through, and to really add insult to injury, they added two more levels that have some fairly cheap GOTCHA! type of hits. They also changed the fight against both Bebop & Rocksteady to a fight against the fly version of Baxter. Okay, fine, there IS one positive thing I can say: it’s easier to kill flying enemies in this version, but that’s on account of some very generous collision with them. TMNT 2-NES has overall bad collision detection, spongier bosses, and levels so long they could be called eras. You kids from generations before were far too easy to impress, because they turned a fun, fast-paced romp into a slow, plodding, padded slog.
Verdict: NO!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #7 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Fall of the Foot Clan
for the Game Boy
Released August, 1990

I genuinely go into all these games with as open a mind as humanly possible. Having said that, I’m floored I gave a YES! to Fall of the Foot Clan. I figured the second and third Game Boy TMNT games had a shot, but that there was no way in hell a first-gen GB game that was likely rushed through development as fast as possible to cash-in on the Ninja Turtle craze before it stopped being profitable had any chance of being fun.

Fall of the Foot Clan is a pleasant surprise on the same level as when you put your pants on and find a dollar bill in one of the pockets that you didn’t know was there. It’s not exactly cause for celebration but it’ll put a smile on your face. This early Game Boy release is one of the stronger third party GB titles from that early period, easily out-classing Konami’s first attempt at a Castlevania for Game Boy. It’s not exactly the most ambitious title. In fact, it’s so generic that they could have made this any IP and it would have felt the same. The Turtles have no variation between them besides how their weapons look, at least from what I can tell, and it’s not like the Game Boy can show the different colored masks. The gameplay is as basic as it gets. You walk right and enemies jump onto the screen and you whack them with your weapon. Occasionally you have to jump, but mostly, you just walk right. There’s no power-ups besides life-restoring pizzas. There’s an awful lack of variety in both enemies and the way they attack. Fall of the Foot Clan’s gameplay is as shallow as a mud puddle. Honestly, the levels often feel like LCD type action games with better animation.

What gave me the LCD vibe is how the enemies tend to attack in the exact same way. Foot soldiers jump in from the left and the right, slightly out of sync, so that you can smack one, then turn around and smack the other. This attack pattern is repeated almost non-stop throughout the game. Little robot enemies will buzz across the top before lowering down so you can smack them. You’re moving right. You’re jumping over gaps. You’re changing levels. But, the same attack pattern with the same enemies repeats over and over. I’ve never seen a non-LCD action game that mimics the LCD spinning-plate-style like this before.

But, I never got bored with it! It helps that the action is pretty much non-stop, plus this became the first TMNT home game with accurate collision detection. Enemies drop pizza slices in regular intervals, and if you want a little variety, you have an unlimited supply of ninja stars to throw at enemies when you duck, though they do less damage than your sword and I never really needed them. Fall of the Foot Clan is super easy and goes by quick, barely taking thirty minutes to complete the five-level quest on your first play-through. I was stunned that I even lost one life, which happened when I fought Shredder at the end of level four, which was the literally the only part of the game that felt like there was any type of nuanced challenge besides just full-speed-ahead attack. Has Fall of the Foot Clan aged well? Oh god, no. Is it still somewhat fun? Yea. This might be the worst retro game I’ve ever given a YES! to, but I never got bored and wanted to finish it. That counts for something.
Verdict: YES!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #5 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time
for Arcades
Released March, 1991

A major, game-defining aspect of Turtles in Time on the SNES is how easy it is to pull off the two special moves (throw at the camera and the repeating slam). The arcade game feels like it picks random times to work. Even the “hit both buttons to do a special attack that takes a tick of life off” move is SIGNIFICANTLY harder to do in the arcade version. It’s just not a fun game.

Before playing Cowabunga Collection, I’d already had plenty of experience with Turtles in Time. I had it when it was given a terrible facelift and called Re-Shelled back in the day. Years later, I ran through the SNES game during #IGCvSNES. There was this interesting phenomena while I did the SNES game: a lot of people noted that it far out-classed the arcade counterpart. Now, there’s people who insist the NES port of the original arcade game is better because it has (checks notes) two extra levels. Allow me to wave my hands around my head while saying OOOOOOH sarcastically. They couldn’t have been more wrong, of course. TMNT II: The Arcade Game on NES is terrible. But, when I started Cowabunga Collection, I once again started catching word that Turtles in Time was inferior in arcades. This time around, the buzz was spot-on. If anything, people understated just how bad Turtles in Time arcade is. It has better animation than the SNES game, and it’s also absolutely horrible.

When it comes to arcade games, there’s a difference between “fair hard” and “borderline scam hard.” Turtles in Time has so many cheap shots or enemies that interrupt your attacks that it feels like a scam. Yea, that’s the accurate term. If one of those redemption games that spits out ticket is rigged specifically to make players think they have a better chance to win than they really have, we call that a scam, right? Why not do the same for arcade video games, since the ultimate goal (trick players into paying real money to play) is the same? Turtles in Time has one goal and one only: suck quarters. The faster players die, the better. When you don’t have to put quarters into the game anymore, all it has left is to suck.

This might be Konami’s worst arcade game of the 90s. Talk about a major downgrade from the previous game. The play control often feels unresponsive. As a result, there’s NO oomph. Seriously, this might be the least OOMPHful 90s brawler. The violence feels like feathers doing karate moves on cotton balls. Pulling off the cool special moves is nearly impossible to clock. The swarming enemies interrupt your combos like it ain’t no thing. There is a slightly better variety in enemies in the arcade (and the annoying shield-wielding foot soldiers aren’t that bad here) but with combat that isn’t satisfying at all, what’s the point? The same issues with airborne enemies from the first arcade game return here, along with other issues with what plane you’re on. The out-of-sync enemy attacks that often don’t let you get-up was the final straw for me. Actually, it was the final straw twice, which shouldn’t even be possible! Cowabunga Collection’s “Nightmare Mode” stacked with “God Mode” made Turtles in Time fun. For a while. Then I got to the Neo Night Riders stage and the flying foot soldiers used their guns out of sync, so not only could I not fight back, but I couldn’t even get up. It’s amazing that they turned this piece of crap into what might be the best brawler on the SNES, but this feels like a prototype that wasn’t finished. It does have value as a case study for OOMPH, because the SNES version actually has it.
Verdict: NO!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #8 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Back from the Sewers
for Game Boy
Released December 1, 1991

Apologists for the game note that the perfect no-hits run in the video shows you don’t have to heel-toe it. I am so sick of the speed run argument when I complain about a game with pacing issues. The argument is essentially “if you spend enough time to become an expert at a game that already bores you, you can beat it faster.” Well, yeah. That’s usually how it works. But why would anyone want to become an expert at a game they find boring in the first place? There’s like a million games out there. I have better options than a 1991 Game Boy product tie-in that zero effort was put into to actually be fun.

They had more than a year of extra time to work on Back from the Sewers. So, how is it so similar to Fall of the Foot Clan? Actually, change that. How come it’s worse than Fall of the Foot Clan? I’m not going to call Back from the Sewers unplayable. It’s even worse than that. You CAN beat it, but in order to do so, you’re forced to play the game in the most cautionary, plodding, opposite of fun manner I’ve ever seen in any “action” game. Take the same basic enemy attack patterns from the first Game Boy game.. and I mean the EXACT SAME ATTACK PATTERNS, only with different character sprites. Now, have that sequence of attacks happen every time you scroll the screen a half step forward. On “normal” difficulty, the game spawns an absolutely comical amount of enemies that you have to whack with your comically short weapon, then take a step forward and repeat the process. The first game felt like an LCD game that with the limited amount of attack patterns that repeated throughout the game. Well, if that was a Game & Watch, this would be the B mode. The same game, only with the patterns happening at a faster rate. More ambitious level design based on zig-zagging through buildings or aircraft is undermined by enemies or turrets that fire so fast you’re basically forced to take damage. Who on earth wants to play a game where the only way to play well is to essentially crawl your way through it? Back from the Sewers? I think not. This belongs back IN the sewers, because it’s crap.
Verdict: NO!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #12 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: The Manhattan Project
for the Nintendo Entertainment System
Released February 1, 1992

I’ll get my only knock with Manhattan Project’s controls out of the way: it’s too easy to do the life-draining special move. I know that in previous games I complained that it’s too hard, but here I often went to jump to do a drop kick and ended up doing my special move instead. If I hadn’t had infinite lives on, I’d of game-overed just from accidental special move usage alone.

Dinosaurs do not show up at any point at all in this game. Absolutely shameful cover art. Reprehensible, really. If this was a new release, I’d give this a NO! on principle.

To say that I was completely taken by surprise by Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III on the NES is an understatement. Here’s what I knew going into it. (1) It used a modified version of the Turtles II: The Arcade Game’s engine, and I hated that game. (2) It’s still the NES, so gameplay is limited to two buttons and stuff that can be done with 8 bits of horsepower. (3) The full-length gameplay video included was nearly two hours long. I could barely keep my eyes from glazing-over playing TMNT II: The Arcade Game and this was over twenty minutes longer. (4) It had a reputation for being insanely difficult. The most frequent thing I heard from players was that it starts fun but finishes with a thud because of prohibitive difficulty. Granted, they likely didn’t have access to the infinite lives that Cowabunga Collection allows you to apply. (5) Konami opted to save a few bucks by not going with the same special chip they used to make Dracula’s Curse possible. Of course, this set allows you to turn off flicker/slowdown inherit to the NES, but the point is TMNT 3 didn’t aspire to max-out the NES’s 1991/92 potential. That’s five completely valid red flags. For those reasons, I’d been dreading the time I’d have to spend with the Manhattan Project more than any other game in the set.

Given the limitations of the fighting engine and the 8-bit console, they kind of got the bosses perfect. This was especially surprising given how boring the bosses in TMNT II were. A big part of that is none of the bosses in Manhattan Project are too spongy. Just when you think they’re about to get boring, the blinking starts, meaning they’re almost dead. Each has a unique style and twist. Most importantly, they’re all fun to battle. Every single one, which is a feat no Turtles game, NOT EVEN SHREDDER’S REVENGE, has pulled off. Only this late-stage NES game. Well done! Outstanding! And one of the most unexpected, delightful surprises of my now five-year-long retro gaming adventures.

My fears were unfounded. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: The Manhattan Project was pretty awesome. It cleans up most of the things that killed TMNT II on the NES. Collision detection, first and foremost, is completely fixed. There was a couple weird instances involving Michelangelo where his weapon actually had more range than the graphics let on (specifically the “lift over head” move) but those were limited to him. Beyond that, this has some of the best combat collision of any game of this type on the NES. The controls are much more responsive too, and it makes the combat a lot more satisfactory. Plus, this time around, each turtle has their own unique special move. Raphael, who I usually avoid because of his teeny tiny weapons, actually has the best special move by far, a torpedo-like headbutt, and thus he became my primary character. Michelangelo, another turtle I usually avoid using, has a neat handspring kick that, with proper timing, can cause two hits for the price of one. Of course, they fixed the issue with the power moves coming at no cost. This time, whether you hit the move or not, using the special moves takes a tick of health off, and the game is ultra-stingy with the life-refilling pizza so you’ll want to space the special moves out. But, once you get down to your final sliver health, you get unlimited special moves, and with Raph especially, I was spamming them like crazy.

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Manhattan Project feels like it squeezes as much content out of the formula as two button gameplay on an eight bit console allows. Right up to the eighth and final level, it’s still introducing new enemies. The variety of foot soldiers rivals Shredder’s Revenge, a game released 30 years later. This is a seriously impressive effort. There’s even some unique stage ideas, like an area taking place on a conveyor belt where you have to brawl while jumping over lasers (or not jumping sometimes). I think it went a bit too long. Six levels that had mid-bosses would have worked a lot better, and in fact, the best levels were the ones that had mid-bosses. Two hours is a lot of time to spend with a beat ’em up this limited, though it never becomes fully boring. That’s probably because, unlike Turtles II, TMNT III feels like a labor of love. As for the notorious difficulty, well, some people say that you’re not really beating a game if you cheat and use infinite lives or save states or rewinding. I say, if that’s the only way a game can be enjoyable, so be it. Besides, it’s a brawler and even with one added basic move and unique super moves, it’s still gameplay as shallow as your mother in law’s contempt for you. It’s supposed to be cathartic. Yea, I’m happy I can beat Double Dragon NES if I really put my heart in it, but that also kind of nullifies the fun. You have to buckle down and play efficiently, even if it’s not as fun that way. Without the pressure of playing the game well, I could enjoy TMNT 3 just fine. I could use the basic moves, which are actually FUN to use this time, something the first arcade adaption on the NES completely failed at. Seriously, it’s a chore using the basic moves in TMNT 2, and they don’t feel rewarding when they land. That’s fixed. It’s all fixed. This is as good as an arcade brawler on the NES can be, and kudos to them for pulling it off. Surprise: TMNT 3 is quite fun.
Verdict: YES!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #2 of 13
Winner: Biggest Surprise of the Set

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles IV: Turtles in Time
for the Super Nintendo Entertainment System
Released August 15, 1992

I think this is my favorite boss in any side-scrolling brawler ever made. Someone at Konami must have realized it was just so satisfying to throw foot soldiers at the screen, so they made it a lot easier to pull off on the SNES, then built a boss fight around it. It’ll take something spectacular to top this battle.

Now this is more like it. Despite the arcade game having more fluid animation and sharper graphics, the Super NES version is better in every imaginable way. It controls better. It sounds better (well, okay fine, it doesn’t have most of the arcade’s voice samples or the Pizza Power rap during the attract screen). It plays better. It’s a kinder, gentler lover, like I imagine Shredder really is deep down♥. Turtles in Time on the SNES is a nearly non-stop joy to experience. The feathery, weightless combat of the arcade is replaced with weighty crunches, bone-breaking slams, and weapons that feel like they would actually hurt to get struck by. Whereas the added levels were not to the benefit of the NES game, which was already thin on gameplay and terminally slow, the added content here is welcome. There’s four new bosses and all of them fun to battle. Levels have either been added or heavily altered, including turning the two “surfing” levels into bonus stages, but ones that still have bosses. The Super NES has a lot of great arcade ports, but few actually improve on the coin-op. Turtles in Time MURDERS its arcade counterpart and was likely the best home-to-arcade port until SoulCalibur in 1999.

A bizarre extra feature exclusive to this port is the time trial mode. There’s three “courses” that take bite-sized segments from the main game, called “laps” here and times how long you take to beat all the enemies. It’s weirdly slow, as you spend as much time waiting for the next lap to finally load as you do actually “racing” the timer. It’s not the worst idea but the execution is frustrating because of the agonizing wait between laps.

Do you know what my only semi-real problem with Turtles in Time is? I object to the name. Really, the “time travel” aspect barely works. Going back to fight foot soldiers in the dinosaur era? Nice. But the train you’re on could be a train from any time period. Same with the pirate ship. Same with the Technodrome, for that matter. Hell, you have to finish about a third of the game before you even start “traveling through time.” So, yea, the time travel stuff outside of the dinosaur stage and the hoverboard stage is weak sauce. Everything else is superb. A big part of that is the OOMPH (my pet term for violence in a video game feeling like it has real, impactful weight to it) is wonderful. When you hit a strike in Turtles in Time, it feels like it inflicts pain. Which it probably doesn’t because you’re mostly fighting robots but my point still stands. In the arcades, it’s like paper dolls fighting. On the SNES, when you grab an enemy by the limb and start slamming them back and forth on the concrete like Hulk does to Loki in Avengers, it might be my favorite brawling game move EVER. It’s just so damn cathartic, especially when you clear out a screen full of enemies while doing it.

Turning Neo Night Riders into a Mode 7 showcase was another smart move. You’ve already done one “Sewer Surfing” stage. In arcades, it’s just more of the same, and futuristic facade feels paper-thin. On the Super NES, the Mode 7 graphics make it feel fresh and kind of novel. The weird thing about Mode 7 is it shouldn’t impress at all in 2022, but it always makes me sit up and take notice whenever I’m playing any SNES game.

The sound design factors into it, but the controls being a lot more responsive than they are in arcades is the real difference maker. That fluid animation that does look so good in arcades seems to also be why doing combos, getting attacks interrupted, and general unresponsiveness is present. On the SNES, it feels like when you give the command to crush an enemy, it’s done. I could almost do the “slam on the concrete” move at will (which really helps in the time trial mode) and when I needed throw enemies at the screen, I could always do so with minimal effort. Of course, unlike the NES arcade game, just using basic attacks is actually satisfying as well. So is the running shoulder block that makes for the perfect set-up for the concrete slamming. Turtles in Time’s move-set is relatively limited, but what moves you have are very satisfying. My wish list would only include more satisfying/effective aerial attacks.

The OOMPH isn’t quite as good against bosses, but hell, even the best Capcom brawlers where you could practically feel the bones shatter also struggled with that too. Boss OOMPH is a tricky balancing act because if you get it wrong, you make the enemy look weak and it takes the stakes out of the fight. One thing Turtles does get right is having all the bosses feel like they’re different. They require different patterns to defeat. You can’t just spam attacks. I like that.

Well, if I’m going to get nit-picky, I guess I wish there was a bigger variety of enemies. It’s mostly just foot soldiers of various colors/weapons. The second most common enemies are these stone guys that aren’t as fun to fight, as when you try to slam them, you just sort of toss them like a sack of potatoes. Rarely, mousers or these giant alien-looking things show up. My hunch is the dev team focused all their energy on the bosses, which was probably wise. The variety of bosses is spectacular and they all feel different, but I’m bummed becuase Turtles in Time was maybe five or six basic enemies away from being the undisputed best brawler of its era. Of course, everything I feel is missing was actually done with the recent Shredder’s Revenge, and probably the best thing I can say about Turtles in Time on the SNES is it set the bar that game had to clear very high indeed. Turtles in Time might not be the best Ninja Turtles game anymore, but that it held that title for twenty years and barely showed any wear from the test of time is a testament to what Konami accomplished here. The SNES port is a truly amazing piece of software and I’m so happy I got to play through it a second time. Let’s leave it here and not re-re-remake it, please. I’d rather have Shredder’s Revenge 2.
Verdict: YES!
Ranking: #1 of 13 **BEST IN SET**

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Hyperstone Heist
for Sega Genesis
Released December 11, 1992

They took the Krang Fight from Neo Night Riders in Turtles in Time, same attack patterns, and made him a boss without the cool futuristic facade or the hoverboards. Like so many things with Hyperstone Heist, it feels stripped-down.

I legitimately can’t believe there’s any debate on which is the superior 16-bit home TMNT arcade game. A lot of people seem to really like Hyperstone Heist. I’ve never seen a game this terrible that has so many people falling over to apologize or make excuses for it, or even call it good. I mean legitimate PASSION from fans who stand by Hyperstone Heist as one of the best, if not THE best, TMNT games ever made. YIKES! I’m not just talking fanboys either, but professional game critics! Hyperstone Heist has made lists like “The 20 Best Genesis Games.” I checked, there’s at least twenty-one Genesis games, which means they’re not awarding this by default. They’ll say “the graphics and sound are better!” Who cares? Turtles in Time in the arcade looks a LOT better than the SNES game, especially the fluid, cartoony animation. But, the gameplay is worse, so the SNES game is better. That’s just how it is. If you value a game having better animation or sound at the cost of gameplay, my reviews are not for you. And while we’re at it, what people consider “better” with Hyperstone Heist is very debatable.

I was already miserable playing Hyperstone Heist for reasons I’m going to get into right about now, but at least I wasn’t completely demoralized. Then a boss showed up I already beat, and I was only on the fourth stage. “Uh oh” I thought, a chill coming over me. Then, after beating Leatherhead for the second time, Rocksteady showed up, and I just felt completely dejected. A goddamned boss rush. And since there had only been three bosses up to that point, it was one of the most pathetic boss rushes I’ve ever seen. Unbelievable. Then it ended with the Baxter Stockman fight from the original TMNT arcade game. Hey, wait.. Rocksteady is in the game but Bebop isn’t? That’s like Simon without Garfunkel! ♫GENESIS DOES! YOU CAN’T DO THIS ON NINTENDO (unless it involves a mutant warthog)!♫

A lot of people lead off with “the music is better!” I’ve never understood why anyone would go to music before gameplay, but fine, let’s start with the music. The Wikipedia page describes Hyperstone Heist as having the same music as other TMNT games, only faster. The faster part I’m not entirely sure was deliberate. It has the same music tracks from previous Turtles arcade games, only they’re sped-up. The thing is, the voices of the Turtles when they die (“ohh, shell-shocked!”) sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks, because they’re ALSO sped up. Then you realize the various bonks and baps from the combat also sound kinda similar, but weirdly so, and it’s because they’re the same sound effects sped-up too. Why would you speed up the sound effects too? That makes no sense at all, unless they just screwed up the soundtrack and sound effects and decided to call it a feature instead of a bug. It must work because people cite the soundtrack as a reason this is better than the SNES counterpart that has more levels, more bosses, more moves, more set-pieces, better play control that makes pulling off advanced moves easier, and has heroes that don’t sound like they’re on an all-helium diet.

The Sega Genesis version of TMNT has only five levels and six bosses, three of which you have to fight twice, BUT HEY, it has one boss.. ONE SINGLE, SOLITARY BOSS.. that’s not in any other Turtles game. You can practically see the Genesis fanboys showering themselves with confetti while singing “GENESIS DOES WHAT NINTENDON’T!”

But, it’s the claim that Hyperstone Heist has “more aggressive AI” that I object to the most. Apparently it was Konami’s “selling point” for the game. “More aggressive AI” in this case is the most meaningless buzzword on the Genesis since “Blast Processing™©™®™.” But, people fell for it. Reviewers at the time noted the AI was “more aggressive.” The Wikipedia page notes it. People telling me I’m wrong about Hyperstone Heist have said it to me. I don’t know where this “more aggressive” shit comes from, because when *I* played Hyperstone Heist on Normal Difficulty, the enemies kept backing away from me when I walked towards them. They would back all the way to the far-far-far edge of the screen, so much they often weren’t on the screen at all, before they finally stood still long enough for me to kill them. Of course, that means when I hit my strikes, I could only hear that I was doing it and didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing the enemies die. This was consistent from the start of the game until the end. One of my biggest issues with the beat ’em up genre in general is the action too often migrates to the edges of the playfield, but Hyperstone takes it to a new extreme. “Well Cathy, enemies in a real fight WOULD back away from you!” OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, IT’S A VIDEO GAME! In real life, a fire breathing, princess-kidnapping turtle dragon wouldn’t choose to make its final stand on a bridge with an axe that the hero could use to drop it into a lake of fire, either, but in the make-believe world of video games, it’d be weird if it didn’t! And it’s weird that so much action in Hyperstone Heist is against enemies you can’t see!

Might as well have put a giant Pizza Hut advertisement in the the center of the screen. It wouldn’t have blocked the action at all.

I think by “aggressive” fans of the game mean the enemies are complete back-fighting, sucker-punching cowards. The overwhelming majority of enemies don’t swarm you. They sort of fall back, and they only move in to attack when your back is turned to them and you start swinging your weapon to the other side. They also have pitch-perfect timing on counter-attacks. But, combat mostly consists of chasing enemies to the edge of the screen for the kill. Many of the enemies are straight-up programmed to just sit on those edges and throw their projectiles in preset intervals. For a game that’s allegedly “faster-paced”, you sure do take FOREVER to get up when you get knocked down. The dramatic knockdown-rolling-sit-up animation is agonizing every time it happens, and most of the time, the enemies begin their attack animation with perfect timing so that you’re going to get hit again at the very nanosecond you make it to your feet. I don’t care how much fans of this game regurgitate Konami’s 1992 marketing of Hyperstone Heist as “more aggressive” and “faster-paced” because the actual gameplay unfolds a lot slower. It’s stop-and-go gameplay on steroids, and thanks to Cowabunga Collection, you can play this side-by-side with Turtles in Time on the SNES and see that it’s actually the SNES game that’s “fast paced” and has more aggressive enemies, because they don’t run away from you like complete lilly-livered yellow-bellied scaredy-cats. Isn’t the point of a brawler being fed an army of cannon fodder to punch?

The only nice thing I can say about Hyperstone Heist is it had the most playable version of this Baxter Stockman battle. So hey, +1 for having the best version of my least favorite boss from the original arcade game.

While I’m at it, where is all this other “better gameplay” at? You can’t throw the enemies at the screen, which is one of the most satisfying moves from Turtles in Time. It’s much harder to pull off the “slam enemies into concrete” move, and the other foot soldiers you hit doing it take less damage. Your own life bar can be drained too quickly, as the amount of damage caused by environmental traps or even by random hits from bosses or foot soldiers often is several of your health points. The OOMPH isn’t as good as the SNES game. It has less than half the bosses the SNES game does at 13 to 6. If you object to me counting the fights against Bebop & Rocksteady as two different bosses, and the same for Tokka & Rahzar, the tally is still 11 to 6, a not unsubstantial gap, and the SNES game didn’t make you replay bosses you already beat. “The stages are longer!” Yea, but they don’t do anything. They’re not fun set-pieces at all. I was excited for a “haunted ship” because those can be cool, but it had nothing haunted about it. It was just decrepit. Going off this game’s definition of haunted, my Mom is becoming haunted. So, where’s this better game play? Oh, because the dash button is separate? Well dip me in shit and roll me in bread crumbs, Genesis wins! ♫GENESIS DOES! YOU CAN’T DO THIS ON NINTENDO! GENESIS DOES!♫

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When presented side-by-side against the SNES Turtles in Time, I can’t understand why anyone would say Hyperstone Heist is the better game, unless they NEED Hyperstone Heist to be better because they still base their self-esteem on the fact that, thirty years ago, Sega successfully marketed their console to them better than Nintendo did (or their parents saved some money buying a Genesis instead of an SNES and then gaslit the kid into believing they really wanted a Genesis all along). Well, sorry Genny fans. The Genesis library beat the SNES library in many ways, but Hyperstone Heist isn’t just bad compared to Turtles in Time. In fact, on its own, compared to no other game, Hyperstone Heist is just boring. An already short game that feels very heavily padded, with bad enemy AI, a limited moveset, and dull set-pieces. But hey, you were told thirty years ago it was faster-paced than other Turtles games and had “more aggressive” AI, even though the AI clearly spends much of the time backing away from the fighting, and who are you going to believe? The best marketing teams money can buy or your lying eyes?
Verdict: NO!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #9 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Radical Rescue
for Game Boy
Released November 25, 1993

Each of the Turtles has a super power that lets you access a previously unacceptable area. For some reason, Leonardo’s is turning into a drill.

Metroidvanias are my favorite genre, and I’m one of those people that has very little problem with short games. The next IGC review will be an indie NES Metroidvania that takes only a few minutes to complete, and I consider it a perfect game in the sense that the only complaint about it is its ultra-short length, which isn’t really a complaint. I’d rather play twenty to thirty minutes of absolute perfection than two hours of great or six hours of good. Perfection is so much rarer. So, I have no problem with the smallish map and brief runtime of Radical Rescue. Even if you get lost, it probably should only take you under two hours to finish, but that’s fine. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with this game longer. It’s a pretty decent, if basic, Metroidvania that has a major issue with enemy placement and boss fights. This is one of those games where the developers fine-tuned the enemy placement specifically for cheap-shots and unavoidable damage. It happens non-stop throughout the runtime, and it’s such a shame because otherwise Radical Rescue might have become my go-to game for baby’s first Metroidvania.

I have a big problem with the bosses. They don’t quite telegraph their moves enough to give you time to dodge, and man, do they blink a LONG time when you hit them.

The game only has a couple environments that are as bland and flavorless as it gets, and it doesn’t really do a great job of teasing “you’re in a place that you can’t access.. yet, hint hint” that Metroidvanias are ideally built around. But, they actually did a good job of building around starting with Michelangelo and needing to rescue the other turtles. The concept of beating bosses for keys to jail cells works wonderfully. Each of the Turtles has a unique ability required for exploration, which is exactly what I wanted TMNT-NES to do, and I’m gratified that I was right to say it needed it. The boss fights are super annoying. I’ve never seen a game of this type that had the bosses blink with invincibility after taking damage as painfully long as Radical Rescue does. Thankfully, with the glory of save states, you can replay them with no penalty (use the save states over rewinding. Each boss takes a minute or two to beat). Ultimately, the #1 thing I want from a Metroidvania is a good map, and Radical Rescue has a very good map with a nice path to victory that requires the exact right amount of backtracking (or lack thereof) that never becomes annoying. I just wish this had been on a platform like the NES, Genesis, or SNES instead.
Verdict: YES!
Cowabunga Collection Ranking: #4 of 13

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters
for Sega Genesis, Super Nintendo Entertainment System, and Game Boy
Released September 4, 1993 (SNES/Genesis) February 1994 (NES)

They all have such boring rosters. Oh, and the Genesis version (pictured here) is the only game in all of TMNT Cowabunga Collection that features Casey Jones. That’s an absolute travesty.

I don’t really have a ton to say about the three TMNT Tournament Fighter games. I’ll start by noting the Genesis game is basically unplayable. Of the three buttons they had available, one is used for taunting, which is just stupid. The fighting mechanics are extremely bland and even on the lowest setting, I couldn’t beat the enemy AI. It’s easily the worst game in Cowabunga Collection. If I gave a hypothetical “so bad that it occupies multiple spots in the rankings” for the Genesis version, Back from the Sewers on the Game Boy would be #12, then there would be five to six gaps and the Genesis Tournament Fighters would be #17 or #18. Absolutely abysmal. And you know that Digital Eclipse must have agreed. This is literally the only game in the entire collection that doesn’t have a section in the set’s built-in strategy guide.

It looks like Raph is kneeing Leo in his nardos here.

The NES game is actually better, but still not fun at all. It feels exactly like one of those modern “demakes” that you’ll see indie developers come up with as a cutesy novelty. You can only choose to use the Turtles in the one player mode, and once again, the AI is just too dang good. The big difference in this one is a dodgeball will occasionally be dropped onto the playfield for the players to use. The only nice thing I can say about the NES game is that I’d rather play it than Back from the Sewers on Game Boy.

I don’t understand the whole “Cyber Shredder” thing. That’s what he’s called in Radical Rescue too. Does he have online sex or something. Because I’d totally cyber with him. Damnit, I can change him!

Really, the SNES game is the only one of interest. Four button gameplay for heavy and light punches and kicks, so at least the action has substance and nuance to it besides button mashing. The OOMPH! is decent, there’s a nice variety of special moves, and the super move meter that penalizes usage of the block was ahead of its time and inspired. So, why didn’t I like it? Honestly, this felt to me like one of the more bland entries in SNK’s fighting game franchise. Besides Shredder and the Turtles, I didn’t recognize any of the characters, and the only fun character to play as is Shredder. The weird game show-like theme between stages threw me off, and frankly, I didn’t think the fighting was all that. It felt like they aimed for competent more than spectacular. I think a modern Turtles fighting game with cel-shaded graphics could be interesting, but for its time, this was just a wannabe Street Fighter that might have worked for kids in 1993 who recognized the characters. For a non-TMNT fan in 2022, this wasn’t for me.
Verdict: NO!, NO!, and NO!
Cowabunga Collection Rankings
SNES: #6 of 13 **BEST OF THE WORST**
NES: #11 of 13
Genesis: #13 of 13

A review copy for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection was provided by Konami for this feature.

Return of the Obra Dinn (Review)

Plot spoilers (but no solutions to the game) ahoy, as this is a four-year-old game and I really want to talk about the plot.

I think a lot of people wanted me to finally get around to reviewing Return of the Obra Dinn because they thought it could contend for the #1 position on the Indie Gamer Chick Leaderboard. Heh. Yea, no. It’s good, but it ain’t that good. Hell, it missed leaderboard’s top 50, which I expect to be controversial even if it just barely missed it. For many journalists and gamers, this was 2018’s game of the year. It’s a major tent pole indie and basically unlike any game that has ever come before it. It came with the pedigree of being from the guy who made Papers, Please. And I missed reviewing it in 2018 and getting those sweet, sweet clicks. Oh, I didn’t deliberately skip it. In fact, I even started playing it on Steam when it came out. It didn’t hold my attention and it just fell off my radar. I’m not entirely sure why, either. I like a good mystery game, and there’s NEVER been a mystery game like Obra Dinn.

“You unlock this door with the key of imagination..”

I’ve been thinking about that a lot this last week. My Dad, an old-school Macintosh fanboy, saw this on the Switch eShop. He wasn’t ever much for gaming, at least until recently, but the graphics style caught his attention. That same style wasn’t for me at all. I kind of think Obra Dinn is ugly looking. Like so many graphics types, old computer games looked the way they did because the of limitations of hardware at that time. There’s nothing inherently sacred about them. Creators of the legendary PC games of the era would have crawled across hot coals on their bellies to have more colors or higher-resolutions.

The chicken did it. NEVER TRUST THE CHICKEN!

I’m also not so much into high seas adventures. In fact, the only nautical game I’ve ever really enjoyed is Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker, and I don’t even know if that counts. Weirdly, it’s my favorite 3D Zelda by a mile. Finally, I’m not huge into nonlinear storytelling. It can be interesting when done right, but when done badly, it can be ruinous. Look at the recent remake of Stephen King’s The Stand on Paramount+. The original made-for-TV mini-series with Gary Sinise and Molly Ringwald was badly acted, had terrible special effects, and was nine-ways of awesome. The 2020 remake (an all-time contender for “Worst Timing Ever” given that it’s a show about a plague that was produced before a real life plague hit) begins with 99.9% of the world’s population already already dead. I mean, come on, that’s the fun part! Each episode cuts between different time periods. The Stand doesn’t work at all as a nonlinear experience and it renders the entire nine-episode limited series unwatchable.

Actually, nonlinear storytelling was only one of many problems. That entire series was one of the most embarrassing dumpster fires I’ve ever seen in my entire life. TERRIBLE performances by actors capable of so much better. Even J.K. Simmons is bad in it. Bryan Cranston is uncredited as the President of the United States, doing a voice over that reminds you the man got his start playing the voices of the monster of the day on Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Then, there’s the “fresh” takes on characters. Odessa Young’s Frannie is so unlikable that it makes you cheer for the embodiment of all things dark and evil. I have never hated a show I was all set to love more than I hated The Stand 2020.

Obra Dinn leans heavily on nonlinear storytelling. The game opens with the ultimate final fate of the final handful of surviving crew. To its credit, it’s immediately jarring, as you see the captain blow some poor SOB away, which is no doubt the cap to a mutiny. The problem is, Obra Dinn uses the jump-around too much, and not always in service to keeping the player engaged. There’s a moment where most players are like “okay, wait, this isn’t just a ship where a series of random calamities happened” where you see the crew fighting a giant mutant crab monster that looks like something out of John Carpenter’s The Thing. It’s genuinely jaw-dropping, even if my Dad and I both started giggling at how silly the plot was starting to become. By this point in the game, you’d already seen the crew fight a giant squid, but that’s a fairly common nautical trope. Creepy ass giant crab-spider things being rode by spooky, shapeless riders? Not so much.

The design of these is some of the creepiest, most eerie shit I’ve ever seen in a game.

And that element doesn’t have the same impact if Obra Dinn introduced the monsters at any other point. The scene where they’re climbing onto the ship (pictured above) would have still been a “oh shit” moment, but not as startling or meaningful as seeing the crab do its thing. Nonlinear works there. But for the later mermaid attacks, you’re now expecting that type of thing. Seeing that chapter take place at the tail end of the attack (no pun intended) has lost all impact. Once you’ve already seen that the story involves a giant squid and shapeless warriors riding giant spider crabs, it would have been a lot more chilling to see the mermaid attack sequentially. Of course, the game couldn’t do that because of how you see all these events in the first place. The mermaid sequence requires you to go in reverse order, using the “scene within a scene” aspect of the gameplay where you click on freshest carcass in someone else’s moment of death as the go-between of the segments. It’s safe to say that, by the end of Obra Dinn, that sense of awe and foreboding had long since abandoned ship.

You don’t matter, and you don’t matter, and you don’t matter, and you don’t matter..

If Obra Dinn’s plot itself was part of the checklist that you had to solve, the solution would be “RETURN OF THE OBRA DINN was SMOTHERED by TOO LARGE A CAST THAT NEEDED TO BE THINNED OUT BY A PAPER-THIN FANTASY PLOT.” I’m going to go ahead and say it: Obra Dinn’s story absolutely fucking sucks. Once the sci-fi elements and the magical treasure chest that lures the monsters comes into play, the story dies a miserable death. All the intrigue is gone. All the interpersonal dynamics no longer feel like they matter at all. The answer to “cause of death” for around half of the crew was “killed by horrible beast.” And they had to use “horrible beast” as a catch-all for the mermaids, spider crabs, and kraken, because otherwise it would have spoiled that those elements were in the game. I hate that I didn’t like it, or that the game lost a lot of its enjoyment once the treasure/mermaid plot revealed itself, but from that point on, I just didn’t care about the characters anymore. Their lives, their intrigue, and their fates felt arbitrary. I don’t know why it annoys me so much. I guess I thought it was going to play out like I would be Tim Curry in the Clue movie (Cluedo for you non-Yankee types) meticulously explaining that so-and-so set up a booby trap with a barrel of gunpowder and lured someone to their doom with each character, and instead 50% of them were chalked up to death by monster.

And you don’t even need to be EXACT with the cause of death for most of the characters. Hell, for some of them, you don’t even need to get the exact entity that caused the death. This is one of those multiple-outs type of games. So, for example, if a person’s head is shot off with a cannon during the Kraken fight, you can blame the Kraken, or the guy who shot the cannon, and for cause of death, the game accepts “exploded” or “decapitated” or “shot” or many other things. Now, I’m totally cool with having multiple definitions for the same effect, but I thought I was signing up for a tight mystery full of plots and murder most foul. There’s only teeny tiny hints of those things, but most of the solutions come down to “who died during each monster attack?” God, I can’t properly convey how much of a let down that is.

Do you know what I like most about Obra Dinn? I’ve always said “gameplay is king.” It’s been my unofficial motto at Indie Gamer Chick. I can be wowed by incredible stories. I can be dumbfounded by incomprehensible stories. I can be bored by mundane stories. But ultimately, I play video games to be absorbed by compelling gameplay. Return of the Obra Dinn will now forever be the game I point to that shows the power of gameplay to overcome all. For all its flaws, the actual sleuthing in Obra Dinn never gets boring. It works because of the wise decision to only reveal correct answers in groups of three. We got five or six of the characters correct just by guesswork, but always after a process of elimination that left only three or four options. Granted, we did score one group of three where we didn’t have a definitive answer for any of the three, but when the game cut to the WELL DONE screen, we completely lost our minds in celebration, hooting and high-fiving until we were hoarse. It’s never NOT satisfying to see that you’ve correctly guessed the solution, and that’s the hallmark of a great mystery game, shitty story or not.

The zooming in feature was helpful because, a lot of the time, I couldn’t tell the faces apart from each-other. A lot of characters look similar. And the accents really didn’t help me at all. I could NEVER tell those apart, and I’m a stickler for accents in real life. I can’t tell voices apart either, but at least that ruins nothing here, unlike Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture.

Obra Dinn isn’t exactly Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot. It feels more like Columbo, where you’re looking for the teeny tiny details that would never actually hold up in court. Ultimately, you’re just picking faces out of a crowd. The cause of death is the easy part. You’ll see the weapon embedded in their corpse, or dialog will say “yep, that guy sure was sick before he died” or something equally on the nose. In fact, there’s a strong chance you’ll have in the neighborhood of 80% of the checklist filled with the causes of death for each face before you have a name to go with any of them, but the game lets you do that. You have to base the rest on how they dress (there’s a glossary included in the journal that explains different ranks and jobs and where those people would be on a ship) or accents or location. Not every character has a 100% “this is the clue to their identity” moment, and instead you score them by virtue of eliminating all (or most) other options. There’s four members of Asian royalty (who helpfully have their very own picture separate from all other characters), four people from China, and X amount of officers that you can suss out once you have the cause of death listed just by rearranging them. Once the game starts thinning out characters, that becomes even easier. You’ll almost certainly get a few just by plugging a placeholder name into a character. EVEN THEN, you feel like you’ve done a good job when you get it right. Obra Dinn might be one of the most immersive games ever because of that sense of accomplishment.

The “scenes” are like walking around a big diorama, and when you think you’ve gotten every possible clue out of one, chances are you’re going to be forced to return because actually there were characters present you didn’t even realize were there.

Sure, the gameplay isn’t perfect. I hate the whole “see a scene for a minute, then it fades out, then you’re back in it” part. You want that shit to end as fast as you can so you can start inspecting in a productive way. I also wish that you could just click something in the book to let you relieve the scenes instead of having to go back to the original spot in the ship. That especially becomes annoying in the end game, when there’s corpses all over the ship, many of which look kind of samey, and keeping track of which one opens what chapter in the narrative becomes overwhelming. Then, sometimes you have to click on one corpse to enter a scene THEN click on even more corpses over and over until you get to the scene you want. The end game is going to require you to go back and look for the clues you missed. There’s just no way you’re going to be perfect the first time around, but it’s not at all convenient to do so. And don’t say it was for immersion in a game where you use a magical pocket watch to see a freeze-frame of the exact moment of someone’s death. Just let us click something in the book to see the scene again. The way it’s set up now is really just creates busy work. I haven’t seen such obvious padding since that time I wore my Mom’s bra when I was 10 years old.

Competitive marathon running claims another victim.

Finally, I hate that there’s two endings. My Dad left the ship too early because we couldn’t figure out what we were missing and because the journal has a chapter that says you can’t see it until you leave the ship. So, he left the ship, and the game ended and we ended up with the bad ending because we hadn’t solved everything. At this point, I absolutely blew a fucking gasket. Not at him, but that it was even possible to do this. We didn’t know the game would say “okay NOW you’ve solved everything you can do on the ship, so now you can leave the ship and see the final parts you missed.” I mean, it doesn’t say it like that, but that’s the jist of it. If we had to start over at this point, this would be the angriest review I’d ever done in my life, but after seeing the bad ending and credit roll, we got to restart where we were without any loss progress. Thank god. But the game should NEVER have allowed this. It’s unnecessary.

When a new scene reveals itself, you have to watch this trail of smoke or light or whatever fuck around on the ship, sometimes circling back around before settling and turning into a dead body that you can then click on. It’s not bad, I guess, but sometimes I wish it used a compass instead. I can’t tell anything apart of a ship. I don’t even know what side of a ship is the starboard side. Just because I cuss like a sailor doesn’t mean I know shit about fuck in regards to boats.

Presumably this was done so when people say “there’s no replay value” smug asshats can say “well, actually..” NO! There’s no replay value, AND THAT’S FINE! $19.99 is a perfect price.. hell maybe undervalued.. for a one-and-done experience. You can even say that the captain killed everyone and net an achievement for it if you’re especially lazy. No, Obra Dinn’s story didn’t “do it” for me. I don’t think this tapped all the possible sea-going calamities, or high intrigue for that matter. The mutiny that climaxes the story but in reality starts the game off is rendered kind of moot in the grand scheme of things. There was no pirate attacks. No drunken fool hitting the whiskey too hard and falling overboard. Nobody croaking from scurvy. Nobody catching a fatal case of the clap from a gnarly wench. No jealous husband killing the wench because that was HIS clap, dangnabit! I know the message is about the perils of desire and greed, but Jesus, really? Mermaids? Spider crab monsters? Eh, fuck it. Obra Dinn is still an absolute must play experience, because gameplay is king. Long live the king.

Return of the Obra Dinn is Chick-Approved
Leaderboard Ranking: #51 of 302
Top 92.9 Percentile of All 636 IGC Reviews
Top 83.12 Percentile of All 302 IGC-Approved Indie Games
*Rankings based on time of publication. Check the Leaderboard for updated standings.

Return of the Obra Dinn was developed by Lucas Pope
Point of Sale: Steam, Nintendo Switch, Xbox, PlayStation

$19.99 was torn apart by a terrible beast in the making of this review.

Lucas Pope is now officially an Indie Gamer Chick Certified Developer Who Does Not Suck!