Monster in My Pocket (NES Review)

Monster in My Pocket
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released January, 1992
Designed by Shiro Murata & Etsunobu Ebisu
Published by Konami
United States Exclusive

NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

Konami games often look glitchy in screenshots. It’s because their techniques create graphics that look great in animation but poor in screenshots. Monster in My Pocket looks fine, but it’s certainly one of the lower-mid-rung games in their lineup.

Monster in My Pocket was a short-lived toy line that was like M.U.S.C.L.E. with monsters instead of wrestlers. Like Dynatron City, there was a failed TV pilot (which they cover the failure by calling it an “animated special”), and an NES game. This one is by Konami, who was the obvious choice for this. I imagine MIMP creators Morrison Entertainment Group did their research and decided the Castlevania people would be PERFECT for their game about bite-sized monsters. You can’t fault their logic, but sadly for them, Konami completely phoned this one in. I think Konami assumed this was a media franchise aimed at little kids, so they built the game accordingly. I’ve played plenty of NES releases that I guess are made with younger kids in mind, but I don’t have to guess this time. It’s baby’s first horror game. That’s the only explanation that makes sense, given the circumstances.

This could have just as easily been a Honey, I Shrunk The Kids game. Replace Dracula/Frankenstein with the boy and girl from the film, and the monsters with bugs. Boom, Honey, I Shrunk The Kids. It’s not even much of a stretch, really.

Konami was capable of creating amazing gameplay and awe-inspiring set pieces by this point. Monster in My Pocket has NONE OF THAT. It’s a shockingly bare-bones platformer with the only real twist being a double jump. You have one attack, and one attack only. There’s no weapons. There’s no power-ups. There’s no items beside a single type of health refill. The level design is incredibly basic, with only two “moments” that change-up the gameplay formula: a brief section where you run down a staircase rail and a brief section where you ride a crane. Either of those could have easily happened in any game where the concept isn’t being small. Hey, I think the idea of tiny creatures having an adventure in a giant-sized world has legs, but it can’t carry the game all by itself like Konami seems to believe it would. It’s just a facade. We, the player, know that it’s just the background theme, which in the limitless world of video games can be made to look like anything. You could replace the background visuals in Monster in My Pocket with any other theme and it wouldn’t change a single thing, because Monster in My Pocket just doesn’t do enough to make you feel small.

Hell, some of the level themes don’t even lend themselves to the concept. The caves that make up the final stage are a gaming staple, and it comes with having no sense of scale at all. I have no idea how big Dracula could or couldn’t be by looking at this. But even when it does have scale, it’s not like the gameplay is better for it. It put the mildest smile on my face when I had to hop-up a chain link fence, but that smile quickly vanished, because that’s the gag in its entirety. You’re only small because the background graphics say you are. Nothing in the gameplay does anything clever to make the concept feel consequential.

Besides completely botching the theme, I can honestly say that Monsters in My Pocket does nothing wrong. Which is not to say it’s good, because it’s not. Ironically for a game that’s about being tiny in size, it’s too short. At only six normal-sized levels, I think the average gamer will only need around 30 minutes to finish it. Combat is okay, but nothing special. You just sort of swipe at enemies with your hands, creating a “force wave” in front of you. It’s satisfying enough at the start, but when you realize it’s the ONLY thing in the entire game, it gets old quickly. In fact, by the midpoint of Pocket, I was often opting to instead leg it. The only thing players are given to break-up the monotony is the occasional oversized item to throw at enemies. In the first level, it’s keys. Which is really confusing the first time you play it. Keys are the universal gaming symbol of having doors to unlock. Here, they’re just generic crates to throw. Reusable, though. If you wish, you can keep picking them up and tossing them at more baddies until you get bored with them. Which you will.

I’m getting bored again just looking at these screens.

What irks me is it didn’t have to be this way. You can choose to play as Dracula or Frankenstein, but both play identically. Talk about a missed opportunity. A quick check of the toy franchise shows that there’s literally hundreds of figures. Even by 1991, when this went into production, the variety was staggering. Only having two playable characters that have identical skills, attacks, and jumping was, frankly, a little lazy. This seems to have been done for the sake of co-op, so neither player would be stuck with “the bad one.” With the sheer variety the figures offer, why not give players four to six characters? Or maybe have a different character with different abilities for each stage? Or maybe even a Mega Man-like adventure with six to eight characters who then join your party when you beat them? Konami was literally handed a license to go nuts and they turned in one of the least imaginative platformers they’ve ever done. It’s shocking, frankly. They really did make a children’s Castlevania game, only with none of the fun parts of Castlevania. Or, if not Castlevania, they were trying to do for the platformer what Ninja Turtles did for the brawler. Either way, this is one boring game, and one I think even little kids will grow tired of.

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Oh, and it ends on that laziest of tropes: a boss rush! Only this boss rush has no health refills between the first five bosses in the sequence. Thankfully, you do come back to life immediately after dying. It’s padding, plain and simple. Again, it’s not that Monster in My Pocket does anything wrong. But, it is proof positive that all the talent in the world doesn’t mean anything if you don’t apply it. There’s nothing memorable about Monster in My Pocket. That by itself is frustrating, because you know Konami is capable of so much better with these themes and characters. It’s so basic that you’d think this came out a year before Dracula’s Curse, not two years after. Or, to further put it into perspective, this came out just after Super Castlevania IV. Inexcusable. Monster in My Pocket is as shallow as the flop sweat it seems to be covered in. I’m not mad at you, Konami. I’m just disappointed in you.
Verdict: NO!
And why the hell is this an NES game? Shouldn’t it be a Game Boy release?

Defenders of Dynatron City (NES) and The Cheetahmen (NES & Sega Genesis) Reviews

Defenders of Dynatron City
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released July, 1992
Designed by Gary Winnick
Developed by Lucasfilm Games
Published by JVC
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

Cheetahmen and Cheetahmen II
aka Game #52 in Action 52

Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System & Sega Genesis
The Cheetahmen Release Date: 1991 (NES) 1993 (Genesis)
Cheetahmen II: Work-in-Progress Prototype “released” in 1996

Developed by Active Enterprises (NES) Farsight (Genesis)
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

Pictured: Defenders of Dynatron City. That is one ugly game.

Sometimes, I don’t really want to chain myself to a bad game long enough to actually write-up a review. Today, I found Defenders of Dynatron City, and then about an hour later, I quit Defenders of Dynatron City having never made it out of the first level. It comes from the co-creator of Maniac Mansion, and boy oh boy, is this awful. If you’re curious what a game review about a game so bad that I couldn’t stick it out to the end would look like, well, this is it. This soulless 1992 NES title was supposed to be part of a massive media rollout about a new team of superheroes. They had planned the whole nine yards, including six Marvel comics that actually did come out, a children’s animated series, and presumably action figures, lunch boxes, and this very NES game. I just watched the pilot for the TV series, produced by DIC, and it’s absolutely dreadful. A cynically bad origin story with characters pathetically desperate to be TOTALLY RADICAL, DUDE! in order to appeal to children. It’s got a DUMB GUY and he shoots his head off! And it’s got a girl with a buzzsaw for legs, and it has a dog except it’s green and it flies. And then, f*ck it, the inorganic toolbox just comes to life and becomes the smart one. Ain’t that quirky? It’s so forced and insincere, with some of the worst writing I’ve seen in any children’s show from this era, making it brutal to sit through. But, I can honestly say the game is a lot worse.

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Dynatron City is a pseudo-brawler type of action game where the biggest challenges come from a confusing navigation system, and the act of lining-up your attack with enemies. You start with four superheroes, but you can swap them out with two others along the way. It doesn’t matter who you use, because enemies only register damage if you’re on one very narrow plane of existence in front of them. Naturally the enemies tend to wobble up and down, especially as you get deeper into the level. The object to navigate the city within a VERY strict time limit and defeat all the waves of enemies. This is the first retro review I’ve done in a long time where I didn’t finish the game. Frankly, I didn’t try. Dynatron City doesn’t deserve it.

“He’ll be like our Michelangelo! The dumb, fun loving one. I’m telling you, the kids will throw away their Ninja Turtles. They’re going to LOVE Jet Headstrong!” Oh, and as a fun aside, the villain, Doctor Mayhem (oh my god, did they take all of five seconds to come up with these names?) was originally voiced by none other than Christopher Walken. Then, after they recorded the voice, they FIRED HIM and replaced him with someone more “villainous” sounding. Presumably they then tugged on Superman’s cape and then told Michael Jordan he needed to work on his jump shot.

It doesn’t look good. It doesn’t sound good. The combat, when you actually CAN score damage, doesn’t have a nice crunch to it. It’s so flimsy and ugly and unlikable. LucasArts, subsidiary of one of the most famous fantasy filmmaking studios, really put out a game this visually bad? And the characters aren’t fun to use. The best is the buzzsaw lady. She’s the only one that makes sense, since she runs fast and her attack has range. You’re on a VERY tight time limit here. Using the slow main character, Jet Headstrong, will lead to you timing out. Oh, and the game encourages exploring and then penalizes you for doing it with that timer. Really, the timer is the ruinous element. It was straight-up dumb to put this type of design on such a short timer, or any timer. It’s not a risk/reward thing. It’s just thoughtless.

Allowing players to swap with the SELECT button would have helped a teeny, tiny bit. But, nah. START and SELECT both do the same thing.

Would it have really been that hard to make the map make sense? Instead of going down streets, why not just have blocks, and then a map that’s grid-based? Or would it have been so bad that you can pick up an item for another character and just assume they got it, instead of forcing players to pause and swap characters? Not that it matters. When you base your entire game around rushing through combat, then deliberately dick players around by making the combat as sluggish and frustrating as possible, you are a waste of mine and everyone else’s time. Look at this sh*t! I try not to assume bad intentions or “review developers” here, but this wasn’t some fly by night operation. A LOT of money and resources went into this. Did those making this game play this, see how impossibly hard it is to line up your attack with enemies, enemies who are LITERALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, and say “this is fine!”

And please note that the “specific plane of existence” rule only applies to you, the player. The baddies can hit you from many more angles. It’s not fun. It’s not challenging. It’s intentionally frustrating. Which, hey, at least one aspect of Dynatron City succeeded as it seems to have been intended to be that way But, given how transparently desperate this franchise was to appeal to kids, you would think the video game that this whole endeavor seems to have been banking on would try to be appealing to all ages and skill sets. Instead, it’s a complete slog, with some of the worst combat of any action game on the NES. You ever seen Action 52? The notoriously unplayable collection of lazy games that retailed for a couple hundred bucks? Dynatron City looks like one of those games! And it’s every bit as cynical as the Cheetahmen games from that series. Dynatron City is one seriously ugly game, with bad graphics, ugly character models, and ear-ripping music. This has to be one of the worst NES games out there. I really wanted to play this more, but given that enemies get even more evasive as you go along, along with the strict timer and the sprawling map, and I just decided that I owed this as much effort as it made. Which is to say, none.
Defenders of Dynatron City Verdict: NO!

The fact that the cynicism of this entire property made me think of Cheetahmen says it all. You can imagine grown-ups in 1992 saying “KIDS WILL LOVE THIS! IT’LL BE LIKE NINJA TURTLES, ONLY BIGGER! EASY MONEY!” I got the same vibes from Wild West C.O.W. Boys of Moo Mesa, but at least Konami didn’t phone that sh*t in. So, let’s take a look at Cheetahmen, which was released to both the NES and Sega Genesis. And honestly, does Cheetahmen look THAT much worse than Dynatron City?

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Cheetahmen was the flagship title in Action 52, a notoriously grift collection of fifty two games that retailed for $199.99 in 1991 dollars, or roughly $460 in today’s money. It was sold on the value, because instead of paying $30 to $50 for one game, you were paying $200 for 52 games. It was marketed specifically at gullible parents, because the people who made this were complete bastards. None of the games had anything resembling effort or quality. Each was probably coded in less than a day, with one exception. Cheetahmen is your flea market Ninja Turtles highlight of the set. It genuinely feels like the type of off-brand toy you’d find at a thrift store. It’s humanoid animals that do kung-fu crap. What more could your parasitic little crotch goblins want? I know it’s probably mean of me to say that Dynatron City feels like it shares the same cynical DNA, but it absolutely does. In fact, the best thing I can say about Dynatron City is that it couldn’t be part of Action 52 on account of the fact that it actually works. Like all the other games in Action 52, Cheetahmen is a badly coded, often not-working, and damn near impossible to play crime against gaming.

Saddam Hussein is one of the enemies, because he’s one of the sprites in one of the other 52 games. And no, I’m NEVER reviewing the rest of Action 52. At least on the NES. It’s a waste of my time. I might do the Genesis version at some point because at least that seems to have had something resembling effort.

I’m sure fans of LucasArts will lose their sh*t for me saying it, but I was close to saying Cheetahmen was better than Dynatron City. The only thing that stopped me is that Dynatron City, as bad as it is, isn’t fundamentally broken and Cheetahmen, you know, is. In fact, I don’t even think it’s possible to finish it. I couldn’t get past the fifth level, where you’re a giant sized sprite that shoots arrows, and you get swarmed by heat-seeking enemies that aren’t in your attack range until they hit you. There’s absolutely zero effort to make this a decent game, and it combines with the rest of Action 52 to be truly gross. Parents were conned into spending $200 for 52 “games” that would rank at the bottom 52 in quality on the entire NES platform. AND, that’s even assuming the games work! While playing Cheetahmen, the game got frozen from the act of pausing, though that wasn’t consistent. Neither was the collision detection. Levels just end without any warning. So do boss fights. I wasn’t disappointed at all when I couldn’t finish the fifth level. After twenty minutes with this thing, I was ready to do anything else with my life. Like suddenly I found myself staring at my toilet and saying “I wonder what a swirly feels like? I bet it’s actually a relief when the flushing part happens!” Totally nailed that one.

Cheetahmen is game #13 on the Sega Genesis version of Action 52, and it’s actually worse than the NES one, in my opinion. At least the NES version has an Ed Wood like campiness, even if you have to ignore that because it’s a product made with bad intentions. The “improved” Genesis version is just boring. Punching has basically no range. The first level, which is the only one I would play, has cheap enemy placement and one-hit deaths. Also, you die from falling too far and there’s too much graphical noise blocking most of the action. It’s every bit as lazy and cynical as the first Action 52, and dressing it up in a working engine and nice graphics doesn’t change that. The best thing I can say about it is that the game didn’t crash.

A lot of people have found humor in Action 52. I find it to be morally reprehensible. It was aimed directly at exploiting one of the more expensive hobbies children can have by presenting itself as an incredible value for their parents. The last game your child would ever need. Do you know who bought Action 52? Well-meaning parents who loved their children with all their hearts. And sh*tty people preyed upon that. It’s disgusting. The only thing that’s funny about the whole situation is Cheetahmen II. These chucklef*cks actually thought they had such a good thing with this Cheetahmen concept that they started thinking “FRANCHISE!” Now THAT is laughable. The developers had to be the most clueless mother f*ckers alive to look at how the first Cheetahmen was coming along and think they had anything of value. The game never actually got an official release, but 1,500 copies were discovered housed in Action 52 cases. Those are now a highly sought collector’s item among Nintendo fans. It’s more or less the same game with character sprites too big and enemies too small. It’s inept and awful, and I can’t believe anyone would spend the type of money that could score you a quality used arcade game on it.

Cheetahmen II. Just think, they had a third game planned. (shrugs) Civilization was a mistake.

My favorite quote comes from Conan O’Brien, and I’m paraphrasing here: “I hate cynicism. It doesn’t lead anywhere.” He wasn’t whistling dixie. That’s why the games of today’s feature rubbed me so wrong. They don’t feel like they came from a true place of creative merit. They feel like ploys for quick cash that vastly underestimate their audiences. It doesn’t matter if it comes with a multi-company synergistic campaign, like Dynatron City’s rollout, or if it’s the type of shady, money-grubbing operation that birthed Action 52. Kids can detect heartless cynicism. They might not know what it means, but they know it when they see it. Do you know who is a lot less likely to recognize it? Their parents. One the tragedies of growing up is that the majority of us will lose our ability to detect bullsh*t along the way. I consider myself to be a pretty cool person. I mean, you know, relatively speaking. But, I’ve found out that I’m just as guilty. I have two nieces and a nephew who are all preteens. I have managed to embarrass each one of them at least once by misjudging what they would or wouldn’t find “cool.” That’s why products like Dynatron City or Action 52 get attempted in the first place. It isn’t the kids buying this crap. It’s their parents. That’s why you have to give credit to the children of 1992. They’re the ones who rejected Dynatron City from the moment it was born. So, to all you game developers out there: listen to your kids. They know what’s what.
Cheetahmen Verdicts: NO! to all of them.

The Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak (NES Review)

The Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak
aka The Flintstones II

Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released October, 1993
Developed by Taito
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

Barney was always the real star, anyway.

Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak is one of the three games in a trilogy of Taito NES games, along with Little Samson and Power Blade 2, that are worth a buttload of money. All recent copies listed on eBay sold for around $1,300. It’s one of the reasons why I can’t help but wonder if Taito is leaving a lot of money on the table by not putting out a collection of their Flintstones games. At first, I thought maybe they would be too generic, but then I played Surprise at Dinosaur Peak. It retains the engine from the previous game, Rescue of Dino & Hoppy. Fred’s sprite and various poses are virtually identical, as is his club attack. So, you can imagine my surprise that everything wrong with the first game has been cleaned-up here. Collision detection is improved enough that your club doesn’t clip through enemies, and it now feels like it has real world weight behind it. And, they even added a reason to charge up your club, as a fully-powered strike now creates a rumble that shakes the entire screen. As a result, the combat is very satisfying in Dinosaur Peak. It’s one of many elements that makes this not only the superior NES Flintstones game, but one of the most underrated titles on the entire platform.

Sports are back, only this time there’s no superpowers to be won. You really are just getting 1ups this time, I think. There’s only two events, with hockey going first and basketball returning for the second. I literally couldn’t believe they brought back basketball, almost identically as it was before. Except, this time you can do a running jump shot. If you time it right, it almost looks like a dunk. Oh, and this time around, each game is divided into two 30 second halves with Fred going first and Barney second. These are terrible, and since there’s a pause every time a score happens, they take a LOT longer than 60 seconds. If Dinosaur Peak gets a re-release, I sort of hope they cut these.

The biggest change is the addition of Barney. They couldn’t have implemented this better, as pressing select instantly swaps Fred and Barney. No special effects. No puff of smoke. No delay at all. In fact, there’s a couple moments built around this. Fred’s ability to grab most cliffs and pull himself up returns for the sequel, a maneuver his neighbor can’t perform. Instead, Barney can hang from wires or poles, then pull himself up and stand on them for a brief moment. He can even jump once he pulls himself up. Fred can’t do any of this, and there’s moments in Dinosaur Peak where you have to pull yourself up a wire with Barney, then jump up and swap to Fred mid-air in order to grab a cliff. It’s actually a lot trickier than it sounds to pull-off, which is why I’m thankful that type of design doesn’t show up until the end of the game. I should also note that the final sequence before the last boss requires some of the most precision movement I’ve seen, so you’ll want to practice. Thankfully, this go around the gameplay is smooth and the controls are damn near perfect. If there was a flaw in the last game, chances are it’s corrected for Surprise at Dinosaur Peak.

There’s even a brief shmup sequence that takes you to the final couple levels. A lesser game would have leaned too hard into this, but the Flintstones II’s shmup stage is over really quick, making it an enjoyable distraction.

Most of my complaints are really minor ones. Barney’s slingshot weapon is nowhere near as fun as Fred’s club, nor is there really any point where it feels like it’s necessary to use. Dinosaur Peak does a remarkably good job of mixing the platforming elements equally between Fred moments and Barney moments, but that didn’t carry over to the combat or enemies. Admittedly, I was fine with that since the club is so much more satisfying to use anyway. While the level design in general is consistently good, it never reaches the heights of true greatness. As much as I enjoyed Flintstones II,  it never once managed to produce a single moment that made me sit up and go “wow!” It’s a game stuck in cruise control, and perhaps the best thing I can say about it is that it’s that rare game where the cruise control doesn’t drive it right off a cliff. That’s a minor miracle itself, because the bosses are very generic and the set pieces are unmemorable, except for the aforementioned shmup portion that’s really a glorified mini-game. Really, the most remarkable thing about Flintstones is that it proves the previous Flintstones had potential to be one of the best games on the NES, only the lack of polish wrecked its chances. This Flintstones realizes the potential and becomes one of the best platformers on a console defined by platform games.

This donut is actually a relentless chaser and an instakill nightmare. Dinosaur Peak made being chased by a killer tire a thing before the 2010 horror classic Rubber made people afraid to get their tires changed.

Easily my #1 complaint is the sudden extreme difficulty spike that happens right before the final boss. After nine stages of relatively breezy platforming hijinks, the game introduces a malevolent tire that relentlessly chases you through a series of narrow corridors. There’s spikes everywhere, and while they don’t instakill you, your damage animation will take long enough that the tire, an instakill element, will certainly catch you. It’s not a short segment, either. It goes quite a long time, culminating with an astonishingly brutal final stretch. In it, you have to use Barney to climb up a shaft of tightropes, THEN switch to Fred to smash rocks in your way THEN switch back to Barney to climb the ropes again. The last boss in the next room is a cakewalk compared to this crap. It’s one of the most frustrating and difficult precision movement sections I’ve played recently. Up to this point, I think Flintstones II was right up there with Wacky Races in the “excellent game for children under 10” category, but that final area makes me second guess that, as it doesn’t allow any room for error. I think the average child will probably need a lot of help getting through it. I had built up 16 lives by this point, and hell, I’m pretty okay at this gaming thing. I ended up burning through all 16 lives and ultimately ended up reloading a save state. I literally couldn’t believe how overboard they went with this! You can almost hear the developers say “let’s see the little bastards get through this!”

Actually, the Haunted House before this was a tricky one too. In it, you have to hit switches that briefly open doors, then sprint to them while not stopping for even a moment to do battle with ghosts that can be stunned but not killed. A few sections in this stage took me multiple attempts to finish. BUT, I don’t think a player is likely to die on that level. That wheel gauntlet at the end, on the other hand, is so cruelly brutal. I don’t understand what they were thinking. Perhaps this is one of those cases of “rental proofing” that I’ve heard about, where difficulty is ramped up in order to assure children can’t beat a game in a single weekend rental. Well, except for the fact that they didn’t produce many copies.

Even with that wheel section, I would call Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak one of the all-time most underrated NES games. I’m now officially operating under the assumption that the post-Super Nintendo era of the NES was secretly a second golden age for the console. And instead of continuing this Hanna-Barbera marathon, I’m now much more interested in exploring this. What’s most heartbreaking of all is Flintstones II is so rare that it carries that wallet-busting $1,000+ value. That tells me that NES fans in 1993-94 likely never got to play it. Sure, anyone can use an emulator these days, but that doesn’t help an NES owning child in the mid-to-late 90s, does it? Dinosaur Peak deserved to be one of the titles that ushered the NES officially into gaming’s past. A wonderful title to remind everyone why the Nintendo Entertainment System was the savior of console gaming. It’s really good, and as a member of the NES’ most popular genre, it should have been celebrated as one of the final standard bearers of arguably the greatest gaming platform of all-time. That Flintstones: Dinosaur Peak is instead famous only for its holy grail rarity is a bonafide gaming tragedy. Hey Taito, it’s time for a compilation. Here’s your anchor game.
Verdict: YES!

The Jetsons: Cogswell’s Caper! (NES Review)

The Jetsons: Cogswell’s Caper!
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released December, 1992
Directed by Isao Matono
Developed by Natsume
Published by Taito
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

“Stop playing your own game on the job! You’re having another seizure!”

And yea, before I get to the review, I have to note that if you are photosensitive in any way, you probably should not play The Jetsons on the NES. Every boss has violent strobe effects when defeated, as does every instance of activating a switch that reverses gravity, which happens several times. There’s multiple other areas where the same violent flashing effect happens. These days, with my medications and the precautions I take, it’s rare that I have to stress about a game giving me a seizure. So, it’s pretty telling that my father felt compelled to literally yank the controller from my hand while physically blocking my view during the final boss fight. Because gravity-flipping factors in so much, the final stage has a LOT of strobes, but the moment you enter the boss chamber, the NES Jetsons starts to strobe continuously, to the point that it doesn’t stop until the credits start to roll. Literally, as you jump straight from that sequence to the end credits. It’s so excessive, unnecessary, and reckless even by 1993’s standards. I have never heard of any game that strobes contiguously for the entire final boss, a strobe that continues after it’s defeated, where you then have to make your Metroid-like escape. Had the Jetsons come out during the NES’ prime, I’m certain some child would have discovered their epilepsy directly from this game. It’s THAT bad. If this were to get a re-release, there’s no way even a disclaimer would be enough. The game would require alterations. No modern publisher would allow this much flashing. Here’s the video, and needless to say, BIG EPILEPSY WARNING! Thank you to my nephew T.J. who finished the game for Aunt Cathy.

Now then, game review. Jetsons is one of many games that rode the coattails of Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers, building an entire platformer that’s based around picking up and throwing crates at enemies. As much as I love the first Rescue Ranger, those aren’t as strong of coattails as you would think. Look no further than the game I believe started life as the Game Boy version of Rescue Rangers, Mickey’s Dangerous Chase. Or, if we’re being honest, the second NES Rescue Rangers was kind of a disaster. If done right, crate-throwing will assure satisfying combat for the full length of an NES platformer that lasts an hour or two, but you still need fun level design and stand-out set pieces to make it over the finish line. You also have to assume that the game doesn’t have technical issues, and Jetsons does. As a post SNES holiday release, I’m guessing that Isao Matono, the man who led Flintstones: Rescue of Dino & Hoppy and the Jetsons’ Game Boy release, felt pressure to push the graphic capabilities of the NES so that it didn’t look too old fashioned now that the 16-bit era was well underway. The result is a game with a consistently chuggy frame rate, albeit one that never devolves into full-blown slowdown.

It looks great in still images.

And Jetsons IS a looker, but it doesn’t remotely succeed in replicating the look of the show at all. Instead, Cogswell’s Caper has a rough hand-drawn appearance with so many sharp edges to the sprites that it looks more like the cartoons of my childhood from the 90s and early 2000s. That look, combined with the less-than-smooth frame rate gives Jetsons an almost homemade vibe, like a big fan of Rescue Rangers tried to make their own sequel to it. That said, the box combat isn’t a complete rip-off of Rescue Rangers. You only throw screen-length line-drives like Disney’s rodents when you jump up and throw the box. Otherwise, George Jetson sort of bowls the boxes along the ground. Thus, aiming in general takes much more effort in Jetsons. You also lob boxes in a way similar to Simon Belmont’s axe from Castlevania games. Several boss battles seem tailored to this style of throwing. Overall, the combat works, especially with the BAM graphic from the Flintstones NES game returning, only this time, the OOMPH is there.

Talk about extra effort. When you meet Elroy at his school, kids are playing basketball. If you get the ball and throw it at the hoop, the ball makes the same BANG that happens when you hit enemies and then falls down through the hoop. It doesn’t do anything, as far as I could tell, but it’s a nice touch. Meanwhile, the Detroit Pistons are going to see this review and be like “quick, when is this Jetson guy set to be born? Maybe we can pick him up in the second round!”

Jetsons features nine full levels, plus a handful of “event” type stages. While I’m the latest in what seems to be a long line of critics who compared Jetsons to Rescue Rangers, I actually think this does set pieces better. There’s several memorable sequences in Jetsons, including a flying sequence set during one of Judy Jetson’s rock concerts, and a race against giant gears that were both really exciting. Both these segments run out of gags really fast and go too long, but they still manage to be welcome changes of pace. At the same time, I’m disappointed that the Jetsons often forgets its supposed to be “futuristic.” Half of the stages are archetypal of the platforming genre with little in the way of Jetsons-like gags, with the exception of the occasional (and seizure-inducing) anti-gravity sections. Unlike the Game Boy release that did such a good job of incorporating the anti-gravity into the level design, I feel it’s just a gimmick here with little to justify having it at all.

Reverse-gravity boots are also one of five superpowers you get during the game, though it’s baffling why they decided to do that. Whenever the level design utilizes reverse-gravity, there’s always a switch to activate it first. Giving to players whenever they want is beyond stupid. It’s even worse because the sky is functionally a pit, and if you use the boots when there’s no ceiling, you die. I never felt a need to use them.

I suppose the argument could be made that the baddies being robotic or aliens fits in with the Jetsons setting, but those types of things aren’t that special in the land of video games. Not that the Jetsons couldn’t do the clichĂ©s like lava or gardens, but it doesn’t do enough to make it feel like you’re in the universe of the franchise. Like, for example, a giant spider fight happens, even though it really doesn’t thematically fit with the Jetsons. Thankfully, a couple factory-based stages feel quintessentially Jetsonian, and I can’t stress enough how much that rock concert scene really did feel almost like a music video on the NES. My gripe is that it just doesn’t consistently maintain the theme. At times, Cogswell’s Caper feels like it could have been based on any cartoon series. But, overall, Jetsons offers enough enjoyable settings and surprises to never be boring. I don’t know if I’d call it “clever” but the stages are well made and the enemy placement is spot-on, along with the placement of the crates that are used for the combat. The boss fights stand out as well, with that battle against Cogswell being pretty enjoyable. Really, this is a pretty underrated game. I’ve noticed a lot of post-SNES 8-bit games tend to be. Bonk’s Adventure got no love either. The NES seems to have had this low-key prime of life after the Super NES launched.

The flying stage goes about a minute too long, but it’s not bad.

The biggest flaw in the Jetsons involves the five “superpower” types of items that are accumulated over the course of the game. Four of them are completely useless, while the first one you collect is insanely overpowered. Using the powers requires you to collect pills (yes, really! Jetsons is basically a pharma-game) with each power taking a fixed amount of points to use. Except the previously mentioned gravity boots, which cost 1 point per second. They’re one of four useless items. There’s an invincibility shield that takes a whopping 20 points to use (pills are picked up 1 at a time, max 99) for a pitiful 3 to 4 seconds of invincibility. There’s a screen-clearing bomb for 10 points, and finally a platform that you can float on that vanishes as soon as it hits anything. It’s so clear they were taking a cue from Mega Man’s dog, only the powers all lack the NEED to use them. Well, except the first item you get. It’s a drone that, for 5 points, will kill any one enemy on screen. It works to do one damage per hit on the bosses and can nerf the challenge significantly. I’d have used it a lot more, but like the Game Boy release, SELECT goes unused, so you have to pause the game to activate your powers. Why not use SELECT, then hold UP and press B? I’ll never understand why so many developers from this era did that.

Speaking of Mega Man, the battle with Cogswell is remarkably similar to various NES battles with Dr. Wily. He even has three forms in his spaceship. AND, like the Mega Man games, it’s a fake-out, as there’s one final level and boss after this that I can’t comment on as I didn’t get a chance to play it due to epilepsy concerns.

As rough as it is, Jetsons is a far superior game to the Flintstones: Rescue of Dino & Hoppy. I don’t think it’s the best of the NES Hanna-Barbera games, as I think children would probably enjoy Wacky Races more, especially since that game seems tailored more for younger kids via its low difficulty. Jetsons requires much more precision platforming and has some pretty intense moments. It’s not an elegant game by any stretch, but it is a pretty dang fun game from start to finish. And yet, I can’t help but wish that the NES game was just a bigger version of the Game Boy release. That game felt like a truly inspired effort that built around the superpowers the different characters have. Jetsons NES gives you all these powers and no reason to use them. That could have been costly if not for the fact that the level design was solid enough and had just enough set pieces to allow the excellent combat to do the heavy lifting. It’s strange too, because Flintstones: Rescue of Dino & Hoppy had a much more professional appearance about it. It felt like a big tentpole release that didn’t quite live up to the effort. Jetsons feels sloppy as all hell, with graphics that look hand drawn in Mario Paint. Yet, it’s the better game of the two. In fact, it’s not even that close. I don’t know what it says that, as good a time as I had, I still wished this played more like its Game Boy counterpart. This whole Hanna-Barbera gaming franchise is weird. Anyway, fun game, but lose the strobe lights.
Verdict: YES!

The Jetsons: Robot Panic (Game Boy Review)

The Jetsons: Robot Panic
Platform: Game Boy
Released October, 1992
Designed by Isao Matono
Developed by Taito
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

HEY.. this ain’t too bad at all!

The first big surprise of my Hanna-Barbera marathon is that the Jetsons on the Game Boy is a very good game. Not quite great, but for the hour it lasts, likely less, it’s a pretty decent platforming romp that incorporates the entire Jetsons family. Except Astro, which is baffling. They couldn’t come up with one more level for the dog? He’s such a good boy, too! The rest of the family are all given one level to shine, along with their own unique superpower, except George Jetson, who gets all three. Before you play as him, you can take the Elroy, Judy, and Jane levels in any order. All four Jetsons can pick-up and throw crates, and although it’s not as satisfying as Rescue Rangers, enemy placement and especially puzzle design is based around the crates, making it work. They did a pretty good job in overall level design. Elroy’s the only one who has a projectile. He can throw a ball that takes out enemies, with my only real complaint being that it doesn’t have satisfactory OOMPH. Also, his stage is mostly auto-scrolling, pausing only when you enter rooms that contain health refills or heart containers. I’m not the biggest fan of auto-scrolling, and while it’s never bad by any means, Elroy’s stage is the most basic and uninspired in the game. Thankfully it seemed like it’s the shortest of the game’s five stages

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Then the Judy and Jane stages happen, and Robot Panic makes the leap into the upper-tier of licensed Game Boy games. Literally! Judy’s special power is anti-gravity boots. Not only do the boots allow her to walk on the many spikes in her level without taking damage, but in many areas you can walk across the ceiling. There’s even puzzles that involve picking up boxes so that when you reverse the gravity in the room, you have enough clearance to get to the door. Jane, meanwhile, gets a jetpack. Both Jane and Judy’s powers have limited fuel, which becomes problematic, especially when their powers transfer to George for the final two levels. The turd in Jetson’s galactic punch bowl is that you have to pause the game and manually select the powers, watch the character blink a few times, then unpause and continue. Since Judy and Jane’s powers use fuel that relatively slowly refills, you don’t want to leave their powers on (especially Jane’s jetpack). It’s frustrating because the Game Boy has a select button that goes completely unused, when it would have been much more efficient to act as a real-time item select. It doesn’t ruin the Jetsons but it does slow the tempo down.

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If not for that one mistake, I dare say Jetsons would be in the pantheon of OG Game Boy platformers. Solid, responsive play control, surprisingly decent graphics, and level design that fully embraces the superpowers with lots of clever layouts lifts Robot Panic into the discussion for best licensed black & white Game Boy release. It goes without saying I had low expectations for this one. Boy, was I wrong. Even the short length doesn’t bug me. I don’t really want to be stuck with any Game Boy action game that long. Give me forty minutes and four out of five really good stages over twenty stages that wear out their welcome any day. Jetsons maintains consistently entertaining level design from the start of Judy’s stage and never lets up. It even features an alright (if unspectacular) boss fight that was well done enough that I regret they didn’t roll the dice on putting bosses for the other characters. How come nobody talks about this one? The Jetsons is one of the most underrated releases on the Game Boy and might be the best thing to ever come out of the entire franchise!
Verdict: YES!

The Flintstones: The Rescue of Dino & Hoppy (NES Review)

The Flintstones: The Rescue of Dino & Hoppy
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released December, 1991
Developed by Taito
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

I’ll say this for Taito’s first crack at the Flintstones: there’s some damn gorgeous sprite work. I’m not entirely sure why they drew some of the Asian enemies in the Chinese themed stage to be literally yellow. Surely this was not cool even in 1991. If Rescue of Dino & Hoppy gets a re-release, it’s going to need someone to go in and change the appearance of the enemies.

The first Flintstones game didn’t release on the NES until a couple months after the Super NES launched in North America. In fact, it barely made it out in time for Christmas the year most NES children were probably hoping Santa brought them the upgraded Nintendo console. If not, Rescue of Dino & Hoppy isn’t the worst consolation prize. Actually, it’s not a bad game by any stretch. Over the course of its one hour or so playtime. There’s only one brief section I consider to be genuinely bad. A literal sliver of a single level that takes maybe fifteen, twenty seconds to complete. That’s pretty impressive for a platform game from this era. The problem is none of the rest of the game rises above being just alright. By golly, this really is an authentic Flintstones experience!

Even the name is bad. Given the heavy emphasis on the hanging mechanic, the name could have been “Fred Flintstone Hangs Around.” I haven’t really watched all that much of the show, so I thought Hoppy might be the name of the saber-toothed cat that throws Fred out of the house. No, it’s the family pet of the Rubbles. Why didn’t they make the game “The Rescue of Pebbles & Bamm-Bamm?” Hey, I like animals as much as the next person, but come on!

The big hook to the game is Fred’s ability to hang from and pull himself up most (but not) ledges. With the exception of moving platforms, all of which can be grabbed onto, the general rule is that a ledge that comes to a point is the one that can be held from. However, there are enough exceptions to that rule that it makes judging what can and can’t be hung onto a little frustrating. Also frustrating is pulling yourself up. You just hold the button and press up, but it doesn’t always work as fast as you’d want it to. This goes back to the “only bad section” I talked about, where you have to climb a vertical shaft that’s rapidly filling with instakill lava. For the life of me, I thought I was doing something wrong in this part and that there was some kind of “quick pull” technique I was unaware of. I wish I had looked it up, because I would have discovered there was a lot more to this Flintstones adventure than I realized.

Superpowers are won by playing three identical games of 1 on 1 basketball. I figured I was winning free lives or coins or something. I think I was half paying attention during my first play session. Oh, and I want to note that I was impressed that they actually worked in a jump shot mechanic AND that Fred flicks his wrist on the shot. I’m gushing over Fred Flintstone having good shooting form in a thirty-two year old NES title’s basketball minigame, and people think I’m some kind of ogre?

I didn’t know that there’s three superpowers I actually did unlock, but I didn’t know I had them. Hey, I never paused the game to discover them. Not that I was missing much. All three superpowers cost coins to use once you have them, so only one of the superpowers is generally useful: the high jump, which allows you to spring off a dinosaur high into the sky for five coins. The other two, a pair of wings and scuba diving equipment, are pretty much worthless because each flap of your arm besides the first one when you activate the powers costs you four coins. In the case of the wings, they’re theoretically useful to save you if you mistime a jump and aren’t falling to your doom, but the only time I tried using them, I died anyway because I didn’t have enough coins to get back up to the platform. In the case of the scuba gear, I never found a single situation where it was useful.

Cost to use the wings? Four coins per flap. Cost to Fred’s self esteem for dressing like a choad just to rescue the family pets? Incalculable.

To the Taito’s credit, they were all-in on the hanging from ledges mechanic. Every single level is built around using this for navigation, start to finish. If you’re going to use a movement gimmick to stand out, Flintstones is proof that you really ought to stick with it, through thick and thin. The hanging carries the game over the finish line, because god knows the combat doesn’t. You would think bludgeoning your enemies to death would be satisfying, especially since it has an accompanying POW! impact bubble with each landed strike. But, the combat in the first Flintstones NES game is kind of awful. The collision isn’t sprite-for-sprite accurate, and it’s not rare for your swings to go right through an enemy. Even worse is that they seem to be given a lot more latitude in hitting your collision box than you do with them. It’s never a deal breaker, but the club feels oddly feather-like and lacks the OOMPH that I desire from such a weapon.

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Sticking with the sub-weapons makes more sense. There’s three, and all are useful at various times. The axe is straight out of Castlevania, thrown in a big arc that goes high in the air before coming down. The slingshot is a straight-forward long range weapon, and then there’s the egg. It’s a literal screen-clearing bomb, and yes, it works on bosses, though with them, it takes a few hits. In fact, I used it to beat all three forms of the final boss. The club can be charged up, but I never really found it all that useful. There’s a couple basic enemies that move slowly and are so ridiculously spongy that I genuinely, no joke, think they only exist to finally give the players an excuse to charge-up the club. Oh, and I used it on the ice level’s boss, but only because I ran out of coins. The bosses also suffer the same collision issues the basic enemies have. Usually, games like this need the bosses to be satisfying to fight. Flintstones is weirdly the opposite: the level design, set pieces, and the small handful of one-time special events carry the day, while the bosses nearly burn away all the goodwill. They’re boring at best, and far too spongy. The collision is mediocre and the movement is slightly sluggish, but it’s not bad, either. Flintstones NES is one of those games that is right in the middle, just above the divider line.

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At only eight levels, one of which doesn’t even have a boss, Rescue doesn’t last long enough to wear out its welcome, and there’s a couple unexpected set pieces that put a smile on my face. The fact that they worked in some cartoon gags, like Fred ducking by his head retracting into his shirt? That’s cute. It’s a sweet-hearted game and it’s okay. The best thing I can say about the Flintstones is that kids who didn’t get to upgrade to the NES had one decent, visually spectacular (by NES standards) game for the 1991 holiday season. While playing Rescue of Dino & Hoppy, it was really clear that Taito wanted to do for Hanna-Barbera what Capcom had done for Disney with titles like DuckTales. In a way, they completely succeeded, since Hanna-Barbera has always been a poor man’s Disney. Sorry fans, but it’s true. Not that their product is bad, necessarily, but they’re always in Disney’s shadow. That’s the case with the Flintstones. It’s fine. It’ll do, but it’s not in the same league as the best 8-bit Disney games. Assuming this really were a Disney game, it’d be a B-Tier one, above Adventures in the Magic Kingdom but below Mickey Mousecapade. In a sense, the Flintstones is one of the most accurate licensed games ever. It’s a b-lister game for a b-lister media franchise.
Verdict: YES!

Flintstones, The - The Rescue of Dino & Hoppy (USA)-240522-141432

Barney Rubble is clearly high on peyote here. “I told you not to eat that cactus, dum-dum!” Oh and that’s NOT Pebbles & Bamm-Bamm. That must explain why Wilma is in her mourning dress. The kids were probably eaten by a dinosaur while Fred was having his adventure. That also explains Barney turning to drugs. Thank god the review is over, because this is starting to go to the dark place.

The Flintstones (Sega Master System Review)

The Flintstones
Platform: Sega Master System
Released November 1991 (1988 on Home Computers)
Adapted by Paul Marshall
Published by Grandslam Entertainments
Released Only in Europe

NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

That green thing above Fred’s head is the paintbrush. I never understood half the jokes in the Flintstones. Logically, the joke that they use living animals to replace electronic appliances makes sense, right? The humor is supposed to be they’re the MODERN stone age family, with all the conveniences a typical nuclear family of the 1960s has even though they don’t have electricity. Instead, animals are their electric can openers, garbage disposals, or laundry machines. In fact, that’s the Flintstones punchline in its entirety. Why a living paint brush though? Why is using an animal more convenient than a stick with hair? Do the Flintstones need the satisfaction of knowing, when they stare at their living room wall, that an animal suffered SO MUCH to make it that color? It’s funny they use an animal that lives under their sink as a garbage disposal, in part because we really used to stick pigs in our outhouses and rain shit down on them. They loved it! They never ate better! But Michelangelo didn’t take one of the piglets and use it to paint the Sistine Chapel! At least when it was still alive. I can’t say with certainty The Last Judgment wasn’t painted with the snout of a dead piglet, but he was definitely not using a living one. It’d squirm too much!

It’s rare that I play a game so bad that I think the developers should be ashamed of themselves, but that’s the Flintstones for the Sega Master System, and presumably the earlier 1988 home computer games that this version copied. An absolutely atrocious, lazy licensed game that has no soul at all. It’s divided into four segments. First, you paint a wall. Do I even need to go on? It’s not even a fun video game type of paint the wall, either. You have to catch the paintbrush, because, well, Flintstones. Then, you have to dip the paintbrush in the paint bucket, which you cannot move. Then, you put some paint on the walls. Then you repeat this step until the wall is done. The challenge is a strict time limit, moving a ladder into the right place, and the fact that Pebbles escapes the crib and draws on the bottom part of the wall, ruining your work. The collision detection makes no sense for where your paint will be, and this is made worse by the fact that your brush runs out of paint really fast. Also, it still consumes paint to do a portion of the wall you’ve already done. It’s awful, but once I figured out that Pebbles being out of the crib too long doesn’t lead to a fail condition, I won pretty quickly. I just painted the top part of the wall and most of the bottom while she sat there doodling. Then I dropped her in the crib, caught the paint brush, and finished the bottom. This was so boring that I’m half surprised level two wasn’t “now watch it dry!”

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The second level is a very quick drive to the bowling alley that lasts under a minute. Over the course of a few screens, you have to hop over rocks. The collision is god awful and the timing is weird, but it’s over with fast. Then, an actual full-sized game of bowling is the third level. It’s one of the worst bowling engines I’ve ever experienced. At the point of impact, the balls and pins are replaced with a BAM graphic. Even when the ball is being delivered right into the pocket, the head pin and other pins COULD be left over. Even with this problem, once you find the sweet spot and the right amount of left hook and power, getting a strike is easy. In my first full game, I had a 230. It should have been a 220, but whoever made this doesn’t understand how bowling works. The 10th frame has a max of three balls. Not complicated, right? Except when I played the tenth frame, I got a strike, a 9, and then got the spare.. and it gave me another ball. Are you kidding me? By the way, the object is to beat Barney’s score, and he’s a terrible bowler. I won 90 to 230. It wasn’t even close, but it might actually be entirely random. While I was learning the mechanics, at one point Barney had a double strike and was neck-and-neck with me. Once I understood what I was doing, I couldn’t miss and Barney couldn’t hit. What a bizarre game.

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After all this, the game suddenly becomes a terrible platformer. Flintstones’ home computer roots show here, as it’s along the same lines of the type of sloppy, unpolished shovelware that my older readers had to slog through to find the rare quality games on their Amigas or Sinclairs. You make your way up a shaft, dodging enemies and compensating for gusts of wind. There’s a helmet that, once you grab it, you don’t even have to bother dodging the nuts and bolts that try to crush you later. Grab Pebbles and bring her back the way you came and.. that’s the whole shameful game. I have played some doozies at Indie Gamer Chick, but Flintstones might be the most cynical. I got the distinct impression this version of the Flintstones was not a game anyone wanted to make. There’s no heart to it. There’s no polish. What little extra effort there is to be like the cartoon is undone by atrocious gameplay. Anything resembling charm is entirely dependent on the connection to the show itself. Like, hey, Fred does his tippy-tingle-toes approach before releasing the ball in bowling. That would be commendable if the game was good, but it ain’t, and so that effort becomes obnoxious instead. The best thing I can say about the Flintstones is it looks the part, but that actually takes on a sinister vibe when the gameplay is as horrendous as it is here. They knew what they needed: the license and the graphics to look enough to get kids to pester their parents to buy it. That’s cruel, isn’t it? The Flintstones is the rare game that’s so bad that it’s borderline evil for it.
Verdict: NO!

Little Nemo: The Dream Master (NES Review)

Little Nemo: The Dream Master
Platform: Nintendo Entertainment System
Released September, 1990
Designed by Tatsuya Minami
Produced by Tokuro Fujiwara
Published by Capcom
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

The object is to find the keys. The meta object is to avoid throwing your controller through the screen.

Capcom was able to do some amazing things with the 1983 hardware standard that was really created only to be able to run a convincing version of Donkey Kong. By 1990, they were releasing instant classics like Mega Man 2 & 3, DuckTales, and Rescue Rangers. It’s one of the hottest hot-streaks in the entire history of gaming, so much that a game like The Little Mermaid sticks out so much more because it’s this oddly subdued and kind of boring blip on the radar that’s so clearly on a lower level than the highs they were reaching. I mention that because one game often lumped in with the hot streak is Little Nemo: The Dream Master. It’s one of the most famous NES games, and maybe their highest profile NES game that never got a re-release. And I don’t get it at all. Little Nemo is one of the absolute worst NES games I’ve played yet. A title that has no redeeming value from a gameplay perspective. Sure is pretty though. Well, I mean, assuming you overlook the endless flicker. And then it’s mostly just stark colors in the background. In fact, I’d say this has the most overrated graphics on the NES. Most of the settings are pretty dull and there’s only one set piece that stands out. It’s not ugly to look at, but it ain’t all that either.

I would not have been able to use the bee suit if autofire wasn’t an option. Christ, and I thought the arcade version of Balloon Fight was bad.

You have to search levels for six to seven hidden keys. Well, at least to start, and “searching” isn’t always involved. The sixth level just puts the six keys right next to the exit. You can barely jump and there’s no ropes or ladders to climb. The only “advanced” move you can do is swim. Otherwise, to navigate, you have to use a variety of animals that you put to sleep by feeding them candy. Candy famously being something that puts you to sleep. The implied drugging of animals should have been good for a laugh, but actually playing Little Nemo: The GHB Master is agony. Oh, and everything kills you, INCLUDING the animals that you pacify with your roofies. There’s even a window between feeding them the third and presumably lethal piece of candy and the moment they actually finish swallowing it and slip into a coma where you can still be damaged by touching them. Without the animals, Nemo gets no offensive move until the last couple stages. You can stun enemies by throwing candy at them, but I only found this useful two or three times over the course of the game, especially if there’s no animals around. Capcom usually does such a good job with enemies, so it’s downright shocking that the combat is so boring and so needlessly cruel in Little Nemo.

This is one of those games where spikes are instakills, no matter how much life you have left. Oh, and see that little evil dandelion seed? They all but ruin the game.

What’s truly remarkable is that every opportunity Little Nemo has to ping a cheap shot on players is taken. Enemies are always placed in a way to assure that you will take damage, especially the dandelion seeds that heat-seek you and continuously rain from the sky in several sections. There’s no elegance at all to the enemy design, placement, or combat in Little Nemo. No finesse. No balance to it. It feels like a sadist said “wouldn’t it be funny if we put this enemy here?” Not really, because it just makes the whole game miserable to play. Often with the old NES games that people call “Nintendo Hard” I can at least see some redeeming quality that makes me understand why someone would convince themselves it was a good game. You know, when they were children. Battletoads has some good fisticuffs and amazing OOMPH for a two-button NES brawler. Batman had fun combat and, well, it’s Batman. But Little Nemo? I literally have nothing positive to say about this one. Having decent-to-good graphics becomes obnoxious when the gameplay is as terrible as Nemo’s is.

I quit the US version and switched to the Japanese one on the off chance that maybe it was easier, even though Cutting Room Floor didn’t mention it. Some games have easier versions in different regions, most famously The Adventures of Bayou Billy (which I reviewed in my Definitive Review of Zapper/Super Scope games). Sadly, this one was not such a game. The only difference was a couple characters had cigars in their mouths. By the way, in the train stage you need six keys to unlock the door, but it gives you two at the start and two at the finish. Between those two points, the train ride itself, which is the entire stage, offers up five keys. You can actually finish with nine. As far as I could tell, this is the only stage that does that.

The levels themselves aren’t particularly well made. Besides the train level as seen in the above picture, the stages are sprawling, but in a way that makes them feel underpopulated and empty. The one and only consistent theme is dickhead enemy placement. Wherever you have to climb, make a jump, or change screens, enemies will be positioned in a way where you’ll almost certainly take damage. The animal helpers that have means to attack are basically worthless, with the exception of the frog. With it, you can jump on enemies in the classic Mario hop ‘n bop tradition. The others might as well not have an attack at all. The giant gorilla’s punch barely extends beyond its body and has a big recovery delay. The same with the hermit crab, and if you do miss, you end up buried in the sand. Usually if I tried to play offensively, I was just as likely to take damage. This is mostly because your hit box apparently becomes MASSIVE, while enemies, well, aren’t.

And then you have moments like this one, where the animals walk away from you and hide where you can’t get to them WHILE other enemies continue to attack, and you might have to wait quite a while before they actually move back to a useful position. In fact, usually if there’s an animal close by, there’s some kind of targeting enemy zeroing in on you while you’re trying to subdue the animal. The evil dandelion seeds, or these birds dropping eggs on you, or tadpoles if you’re underwater. It always takes three candies to put an animal to sleep, and usually the area where they’re located is closed in and cramped. Remember, the animals hurt you if you touch them. There’s so many no-win situations. I’m guessing maybe 0.1% of all players ever beat this fair and square and most “fans” are fans in the sense they played it for a single rental, maybe two, made it to the second world, third at most, and quit. Unless they had a Game Genie or used the level select code.

The collision might be the worst of any popular game I’ve played. For me, the most telling section in the entire game is when you have a mouse with a mallet that can break through special blocks, but the blocks seem to have a single pixel of vulnerability that isn’t in the center. Even standing right in front of them, the hammer often just plain doesn’t work. It just clips through the breakable blocks like they’re a background wall. At first, I thought they were. I spent a while looking for the right blocks, because it was just unfathomable to me that even the worst Capcom game could mess up such a commonplace gaming trope as “breaking a block that’s in your way with the special block breaking item.” You know, that thing that’s so common, even from games of this era, that it’s a clichĂ©? Well, the first blocks were the right blocks. The breaking block mechanic is just broken. I had to sort of jump at the blocks from an angle to get the collision to register. There’s tons of NES games that could do the “break a block” mechanic. How could they not get this right? This is basic stuff to screw up. I walked away from Little Nemo with the impression that the people who worked on this game didn’t want this assignment and simply didn’t give a sh*t how it turned out.

Right through the blocks.

It really speaks to how popular Capcom was during this era that even Little Nemo: The Dream Master can be famous for being a fun game. I do have a question for its fans: did you actually play this for more than a rental? Did you ever make any progress at all? Without using a Game Genie or Level Select code? Because I kept waiting for this legendary game to show up, and all that happened was one GOTCHA after another. That is, when the world isn’t just a dead maze of spikes or “puzzles” that involve breakable blocks that don’t want to break. Even after the keys are ditched and the combat is opened up, it’s not like you spend most of your time fighting enemies. You still need the animals, which means you’re mostly not using the scepter. Instead, that’s saved for the three spongy, lazily-designed boss fights. Capcom usually does great boss battles, but these are more about sponginess and hard-to-hit attack patterns. Oh, and you have to charge-up the scepter for maximum effect, because of course you do. I have never been more baffled by a game’s popularity than Little Nemo’s. It’s never fun. Not even a little bit. In fact, it feels like the brakes are slammed every time the potential for fun presents itself, as if the developers said “whoa, whoa, let’s not do it like that. Someone might enjoy this!” The big hook, the use of the animals, is subdued and dull because they aren’t really aren’t useful for anything but temporary transportation. You don’t feel empowered in them. It often feels like you’re just opening up whole new ways to take cheap shots and lose lives.

To be honest, I expected the dandelion seeds to rain down on you during the last boss. I don’t know what it says about Little Nemo’s design that the three bosses couldn’t compare to a basic enemy.

This is the one time where I’m completely convinced that nobody actually likes Little Nemo and that they only say they do because critics gave it high marks. That includes other critics, some of which place this on “best of NES” lists. Are you f*cking sh*tting me? I just refuse to believe anyone had fun with this, but nobody wants to be the one standing alone saying otherwise. The attitude seems to be hey, if you’re not having fun, it’s probably your fault you’re not, right? After all, everyone else is having a good time. Why aren’t you? It couldn’t be because the game is impossibly difficult, or that the level design is really empty and boring, or the collision is god awful, or that some mechanics just plain don’t work, or that taking over a fairly large variety of animals isn’t anywhere near as enjoyable as it seems like it would be on a paper, right? Actually, yea, all those things are true and it’s okay to come out and say it: Little Nemo is Capcom’s worst NES game that doesn’t involve Micronics, and hell, I’m willing to say it’s their absolute worst 8-bit game. At least Ghosts ‘n Goblins has a fun theme to it and is remarkably true to the coin-op. Little Nemo doesn’t have that going for it, nor is it so inept that it’s actually kind of funny, like 1942. Little Nemo is the terrible game that walks like a masterpiece, and I absolutely f*cking despise it.
Verdict: NO!

Nemo (Capcom Arcade Review)

NemoNemo
Platform: Arcade
Released November 20, 1990
Directed by Yoshiki Okamoto
Published by Capcom
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

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In December, I reviewed Capcom’s arcade anti-classic Willow. A terrible game that everyone goes gaga over that’s directed by Yoshiki Okamoto and based on a middling movie. Six months later and I’m reviewing Capcom’s Nemo. A wonderful game that nobody ever talks about that’s directed by Yoshiki Okamoto and based on a middling movie. When people think of “Capcom” and “Nemo” they likely think of the NES game Little Nemo: The Dream Master. Both the coin-op and the NES game beat the film to the US market by a couple years, not that it matters. This is one of those licenses where people should have known the film was going to bust. The joint Japan-US production with a script from Chris “Goonies/Home Alone/Harry Potter” Columbus spent years in development hell, then released four days after I was born in 1989 only to become a historic box office bomb, losing about sixty million bucks (adjusted for inflation). Like Krull before it, this is one of those situations where the coin-op is the best thing to come out of the whole fiasco. Actually, I’d call this easily Capcom’s best arcade platformer from this era. It’s also the rare Capcom coin-op that doesn’t feel like a quarter shakedown. I’m sure the two things aren’t related and it’s a complete coincidence. Uh huh.

If Capcom ever does release this, I hope they restore the two deleted levels that are still there, in the game code. This one especially, where you slide across a rail, is both original and has a sense of childlike wonder about it that few games from the cynical early 90s achieve. I really had a good time playing Nemo. This is exactly the kind of lost classic I started covering retro games for. If you want to play the deleted levels, Cutting Room Floor has the instructions.

Nemo is such a blast, and I say that thinking the movie is BORING. It’s a favorite of my father, who loves anime feature films, but for me, I was like.. man, this ain’t no My Neighbor Totoro. Imagine the degree of difficulty Capcom had in adapting THAT to a viable platform game, but they nailed it! Unlike the NES game, there’s no animal shenanigans this go around. Instead, most enemies can be killed by jumping on them. That old chestnut. If that’s not to your liking, you can also use the scepter from the movie as a weapon that functionally works like a sword. It’s satisfying enough by itself, I guess. It’s not an amazing weapon or anything, but it can be. It can be powered-up by grabbing the famous Capcom pinwheel, turning Nemo red and letting you create a chain reaction with the enemies, IE hitting them back into each-other. Now THAT’S the good stuff, and my only regret is that they didn’t build the game more around this. A couple bosses are, though. Bosses where you can hit them directly, but it’s more efficient to knock smaller baddies into them. During these fights, the pinwheels might even continuously spawn for players. Collision is pretty good all around and the enemies are fun and imaginative. For the thirty to forty minutes or so you’ll need to finish Nemo Arcade, fighting the basic enemies never gets boring. That’s half the battle right there!

You can also pick up and throw crates and barrels. I threw one once that rolled so far that I was racking-up points for a solid 10 seconds even though it’d scrolled off the screen. I LOVE THIS GAME!

And the level design is pretty impressive too. Capcom took a very high risk by not starting off with a basic “move right, jump over pits” type of design you’d expect from a first level. Instead, it’s an auto scrolling train. I hate auto-scrolling, but I loved that stage, and I loved that Capcom took it on faith that players understand the concept of a platform game at this point. After that, Nemo relies on spectacular set pieces, including a memorable haunted forest, a sinking steamboat, and adventures in the clouds. Even when the level design devolves into straight corridors, the enemies are spaced out and fun enough to do battle with that it never gets boring. To further break-up the action, there’s hidden chests all over that reveal themselves after you step on their platform, and unlike many Capcom games, there’s no whammies in them! How come nobody talks about the coin-op Nemo? I hear about the sucky NES game all the time, but this? It’s great! It’s such a shame that Capcom didn’t roll the dice on porting this to something like the Genesis, which could have used a marquee arcade platformer.

I hate that it’s unlikely this will get a re-release. Capcom should just reload the license and then release this with the NES game in a 2 for 1 pack for $14.99. People with fond memories of the NES game will be burned thanks to being drunk on nostalgia. BUT, they’ll have a hell of a surprise by what is the REAL reason to own such a package.

If I have to complain, it’s that there’s not enough upgrades to the scepter. Get this: I didn’t even realize until my second playthrough right before going to press on this that there WAS an upgrade to the scepter. In fact, judging by the screenshots, I even picked it up without realizing it. It gives a subtle, nearly imperceptible electric effect to your attack that doesn’t functionally feel stronger, more energetic, or whatever the hell they were going for. Obviously, since I didn’t even realize I was doing it when I did it. I also think the bosses are too spongy. It’s a Capcom coin-op, so if that wasn’t the case, I’d be shocked, frankly, but it does matter quite a bit. Your scepter often needs several wacks to even cause the boss meter to drop a tiny sliver. For many bosses, hit points are weighed too heavily on extracurricular hits, IE throwing crates or using the red-Nemo power to knock enemies back into them. This is a little troublesome because there’s a learning curve to picking up the objects you can throw. Your sprite might be physically on the object’s sprite, but you’re still not able to pick it up because you’re not ALL the way on it. As a result, some of the bosses cross the line into being.. gasp.. boring. In the case of the 4th boss, a giant gear, really boring, actually. F’n thing took me probably 20% of the playtime by itself. When I noticed the stage timer stopped working on bosses, I literally LOLed because it’s a genuinely laughable solution to the problem. “Well, we can’t get rid of the sponge. We’re Capcom! (shrug) Just stop the timer!”

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On one hand, I’m grateful the basic enemies weren’t also damage sponges since they pretty much sealed Willow’s fate, but on the other hand, balancing bosses is a big deal too. The sponge might also be because Nemo is a co-op game, but I didn’t get a chance to test that. I will update this review if I get a chance to play with someone else, but I can’t imagine it would be any better even with two players. And nothing I just complained about is a deal breaker because most of the bosses, spongy as they are, still manage to be fun. Only the third and fourth ones really feel sloggy, which happen to be the two bosses based mostly around throwing stuff at them. So is the giant tree but the means to do it isn’t something you have to work hard at. It’s such a shame that Capcom didn’t roll the dice on porting this to something like the Genesis, which could have used a marquee platformer in 1990. In fact, Nemo vanished from gaming’s collective memory. I’ve found it on Capcom arcade lists a couple times and immediately forgot about it. Nobody talks about this one, and I don’t get it. After playing both the NES and arcade versions of Nemo, I think the wrong Capcom Nemo game is the famous one.
Verdict: YES!

Spatter (Sega Arcade Review)

Spatter
aka Sanrin San-chan, aka Tricycle-San
Platform: Arcade
Released in December, 1984
Designed by Yoshiki Kawasaki
Published by Sega

Never Released in America* (See Caption Below)
Coin-Op Never Re-Released

*Yes, a newly developed port of Spatter was included in the second Genesis Mini, but technically that’s not the arcade game, and it doesn’t do much to help console owners anyway.

Sega threw their hat into the maze chase ring a few times with titles like Ali Baba and 40 Thieves, Congo Bongo, Pengo, etc. I figured I’d played all of them, but I was wrong. I’d never even heard of Spatter until my friend Dave said “you’re going to review Pac-Mania eventually, right? (UPDATE: Here’s my Pac-Mania review!) This is like a proof of concept for Pac-Mania.” Hey, I like Pac-Mania! So, I gave Spatter a try and actually, he’s right and wrong. He’s right in the sense that Spatter is one of the first maze chases that features a maze bigger than the screen itself. And he’s also right in the sense that Spatter is one of the first maze chases that offers players an unlimited dodge move. But, the similarities end there, because Spatter offers something most maze chase games don’t: unlimited knock-outs of your pursuers. And it’s so satisfying.

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Spatter’s object is to grab all eight bouquets of flowers in each stage. As you do this, you’re pursued by chasers in go karts. You can’t jump just anywhere. There has to be a guardrail and not a solid wall. But, if there is a guardrail, Spatter’s incredible twist reveals itself: the jumping move is into the guardrail itself, causing it to bend in a cartoonish fashion. It works both offensively and defensively, and what’s truly bonkers is that it’s equally satisfying both ways. This is especially true if you dodge someone as you’re turning a corner, as it almost feels like cheating at a game of chicken. Hell, if you time it right while taking a corner, the rail will snap back like a rubber band and kill the guy in the oncoming lane. The enemies don’t exactly have the complex algorithms of Pac-Man ghosts. The karts chase you directly, but this is the rare maze chase that built around that, giving you means to dodge AND the instant gratification of bashing them off the road. It really is just as simple as doing a jump when they’re on the opposite side of you, and it has more OOMPH than most karate games from this era do.

Later stages have a lot more solid walls, like this section here. Also, the transparent roads were pretty spectacular as far as 1984 games go. At one point, Spatter was earmarked for Sega’s 3DS program, but it was cancelled because the game was too obscure. Um, hello? I know a way to take something out of obscurity: RE-RELEASE IT!

Mind you, the enemies respawn almost instantly. It’s a maze chase at the end of the day, and not every enemy can be defeated by the rail. A little green bomb robot and a bulldozer eventually enter the maze. The bulldozers are indestructible, but the bombs can be taken out by shoving boxes into them. Oh yea, there’s boxes, which contain bonus items that score you points. There’s a lot of bonus point opportunities, including tons of boxes on the playfield, points for quick completions, points for enemy knockout combos with the boxes, paper airplanes that fly in from outside the maze, and bonus rounds where Spatter temporarily becomes a 2D platformer where you have to avoid drops of water and climb up a series of ledges while collecting fruit. These were the weak links in the game and are so out of place that I wonder if this was originally the concept and they pivoted when they realized it wasn’t very fun. Or challenging, for that matter. I never once failed it. As you get deeper into the game’s 40 levels (which the level count includes the bonus stages), the stages still present plenty of bashing opportunities. I figured they’d up the challenge by eliminating them altogether. Instead, they space them out, but that only serves to increase the enjoyment. Seriously, why does nobody talk about this one?

If the water killed you instead of making you spin out, that’d be one thing. But even when I got hit multiple times, I still ultimately won, and usually quickly. My worst round still had 7 seconds remaining.

As much as I enjoyed the gameplay, I have to concede that Spatter has a massive problem with scoring balance and the risk/reward factor. Especially with the blocks, which score too little points to encourage using them, especially since they take too long to shatter after you kick them. I inadvertently doomed myself a lot more often than I killed enemies with them. There’s also too many points available in the bonus round for the meager challenge it presents. Giving these stages wrap-around screens nerfs the challenge completely. Part of me wonders if Spatter would have been better served removing the Pac-Man-like collecting aspect and instead turning the game into an entirely combat focused type of maze chase.

The paper airplane scores 2,000 points, which is only 1,600 less than you get for getting all the flowers in a level before the time bonus factors in. I wouldn’t know where to begin with balancing a game like this that has such a heavy emphasis on combat, but I know the bonus items are overvalued.

Then again, I did run through all the levels using the infinite lives dip switch and I never got bored with that, nor did I get bored when I limited myself to three lives and three bonus lives. The level design is never dull. In fact, there’s times where I was shocked by the game suddenly presenting a small box as the entire stage, and it was so exhilarating when it happened. Frankly, it’s because the engine is built around close calls, near misses, and great escapes. Even with dumb AI, Spatter soars because the maze designs are built around making that dumb AI work towards a greater good. Jeez, it’s such a shame Spatter got no love from their own developers, then or now. I’m stunned they even bothered with making it a +1 in the Genesis Mini II. Sega tends to re-release the same handful of famous games over and over again. Spatter is good enough to anchor a collection of their hidden gems, because it might be the shiniest of the bunch. Hell, let Nintendo remake it as a Mario Kart spin-off. It feels like kin anyway!
Verdict: YES!