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Fail Review: Pac-Man World [PlayStation]

Developer: Namco Hometek
Publisher: Namco
Rated: E for Everyone
Released: September 30, 1999

I love Pac-Man, so it pains me to say that I hated Pac-Man World with every fiber of my being.  I hated the disc the data was pressed on, the data itself, and every line of code contained therein.  One would expect a Pac-Man platformer to be fun for the whole family.  Instead what you get is the goddamn Dark Souls of Pac-Man games, where every step springs another deathtrap, forcing players to replay levels several times until they've committed them to memory in a cheap attempt to extend the game's length.

This was a common problem in the earlier days of platformers, and Pac-Man World embraces all of the worst principles of game development from its era.  Frustrating trial and error gameplay, an uncooperative and immovable camera (despite being compatible with the DualShock analog controller), cheap deaths courtesy of ledges you can and will easily fall off of, cheap enemies and obstacles - you name it, it's all here.  I quit after only two hours, yanking the disc from my console in disgust and requiring all of my willpower not to chuck it at the wall.  I've beaten games like Super C and Mega Man on real hardware in recent years, but Pac-Man World bested me. 

It's not just that the game is hard or cheap, but the cheapness sucks all the fun right out of the game.  By the fifth time I'd attempted the game's second boss, Anubis Rex, I was so frustrated with the bullshit the game throws at you, I simply had no desire to continue trying.  To give you an idea, the boss fight takes place in a sort of Mayan ruins setting with a giant stone statue of a deity.  You're supposed to run on four small platforms, causing their fans to spin, which then causes the statue's arms to move, revealing its weak point.  At first, it's simple enough - jump from platform to platform, avoiding fireballs that pop out of the lava surrounding them.  In round two, more fireballs crash down from the background, but they're easy enough to avoid.  Round three introduces a whirlwind, which makes it harder to avoid the fireballs that hit the platforms and is very difficult to jump over.  In the fourth and final round, the statue itself shoots energy beams at you which, I swear to god, hit you if you're on the same side of the screen.  It looks like you're safe, but the game indicates you've been hit, even if you're on a different platform or you attempt to jump over them. 

It's really a shame because the game has lots of charm on the technical side of things.  Pac-Man is very expressive, the colors are vibrant, the music generally riffs on familiar Pac-Man themes but with motifs that fit the stage, and there are even some 3D mazes you can unlock.  These mazes also introduce many of the main game's traps, but it's balanced out by Pac-Man being able to take multiple hits before losing a life.  By far, these are the best part of the game, but you have to scour the main stages for special icons that will allow you to open doors to access them.  So I have to play the worst part of the game to access the best part?  Cool.

Released to celebrate Pac-Man's 20th anniversary, Pac-Man World should have been a homerun.  Instead, it's needlessly frustrating and not fun at all.  I never expected I would unleash a torrent of curse words at a Pac-Man game, yet there I was.  Pac-Man is unquestionably my favorite video game character of all-time, but he deserved better than this pile of trash.  Pac-Man World can eat me. 

Retro-Review: Sol Divide [PlayStation]

Developer: Psikyo
Publisher: XS Games
Rated: E for Everyone
Released: 11 March 2003
Completed: 4 August 2017

Sol Divide is an interesting beast.  A relatively obscure arcade game that attempted to meld a horizontal shoot 'em up with melee combat, it was later ported to the Sega Saturn and Sony PlayStation in Japan by Atlus, before XS Games published it in the west.  Just because it tried something new doesn't automatically make it worthy of your attention.  The game's short length, ugly graphics, lack of a save mechanic (more on that later), and uneven difficulty mean you're probably better off skipping it, even with the incredibly cheap price tag on the secondary market.

Psikyo is a company best known for their shooters, and in many cases they're well worth it for fans of the genre.  They've made some very successful and capable franchises including Aero Fighters, Gunbird, Strikers 1945, and the criminally underrated Zero Gunner titles - not to mention their awesome collaboration with Capcom, Cannon Spike.  I mention the latter because, in many ways, Sol Divide is like a spiritual predecessor.  Both games are by and large shoot 'em ups with melee combat elements, feature several characters to choose from, and whisk players through a variety of incredibly short stages culminating in an impressively large - often very easy - boss battle.  The difference is Cannon Spike does it much, much better.

Whereas Cannon Spike is a multi-directional shooter, Sol Divide is strictly played on a 2D horizontal plane.  Players can choose from three characters, each with slight variances that mostly come in the different spells they can use.  Unlike most shooters that use a generic screen-clearing bomb attack, Sol Divide allows players to collect magic spells which they can switch on the fly.  Some are devastating single-use spells, capable of inflicting massive damage on bosses and wiping out lesser enemies completely, while others are dependent on your mana meter, which can be replenished by using your melee attack.  Most of the enemies are bullet sponges, rendering your ranged shot practically useless anyway.

Each stage is remarkably short, some lasting barely a minute before the boss encounter.  Most of the bosses are complete pushovers until the game's final stages, where suddenly the gap between stages widens and failing the second or last of three consecutive bosses means you have to play the entire run over again.  Why the sudden shift in formula is beyond me, and it was here that the game really started to lose me with a trio of frustrating bosses.

If you're great at shmups, however, you can probably clear the entirety of Sol Divide's arcade mode in about 15 minutes.  There are branching paths to increase replayability, but no matter which set of boring stages you tackle, it's a short arcade game at heart.  In an effort to combat this, Psikyo added an exclusive original mode to the home release.  It's a nice touch, and I commend their effort to add additional content, but like the base game it's just not very fun. 

The original mode focuses a bit more on the RPG elements, allowing players to level up as they defeat enemies and collect items through a 17 level run.  The problem is dying sends you back to the very beginning, and you lose you accumulated items.  You do keep your level, which means a longer lifebar, but your stats such as shot power are halved.  The only recourse is to slog through and grind, grind, grind.  Oh, and you have to do it all in one sitting because they stupidly removed the save mode that was present in the Japanese version of the game! 

Speaking of, I hope you can read Japanese, because the ending was not localized.  That's right.  Completing the game nets you a few static images with Japanese text.  The intro is in English, so what the fuck?  To make matters worse, Sol Divide was released in English arcades!  There is already an English-language version in existence!  Why is it not on this disc?

Graphically, Sol Divide is a pretty ugly game.  Originally released in 1997, it featured the use of pre-rendered CG sprites, a la Donkey Kong Country, but everything here looks grainy and washed out.  The backgrounds are forgettable, and the enemy designs are just sort of weird.  The bosses are the only thing that really stand out.

At least the control is precise, which is a requirement for any shooter, but the question is why would you want to play it?  You'd be much better off picking up Mobile Light Force on PS1 which, despite the ATROCIOUS and misleading Charlie's Angels-style cover art, is actually a port of the superior Gunbird.  Psikyo is so much better than this. 

Sol Divide was completed on a real PlayStation with no cheats.

Retro-Review: Akuji: The Heartless [PlayStation]

Developer: Crystal Dynamics
Publisher: Eidos Interactive
Rated: T for Teen
Released: 31 December 1998
Completed: 2 July 2017

When people think of Crystal Dynamics, they probably think of them as the developer entrusted with the Tomb Raider franchise, who succeeded original creators Core Design.  Or perhaps they think of the exquisite Legacy of Kain series, which has sadly faded into obscurity, or even Gex, the mascot platformer that graced numerous 32-bit consoles in the 90s.  One thing is for sure, they probably don't think of the little-known and lesser-discussed PlayStation 3D platformer Akuji: The Heartless, and that's something of a shame.

Akuji isn't that different from other 3D action-adventure games of the era.  The camera is problematic, the 3D jumping puzzles can be obnoxious, and the PlayStation's notorious texture warping is in full force.  All those quibbles aside, the game still offers a short and thoroughly enjoyable experience, set in eerie supernatural environments, steeped in voodoo mythology.

As the titular voodoo priest, Akuji, you must avenge your own death at the hands of your brother - who ripped your heart out on your wedding day.  Wait, isn't that what your spouse does on your wedding day?  *ba-dum, pshhh!*  Anyhow, you're doomed to wander the underworld forever until Baron Samedi offers you a chance for redemption - and vengeance - by collecting the souls of your ancestors from the various vestibules of Hell itself. 

You'll run, jump, hang, solve puzzles, and combat enemies similar to the early Tomb Raider or Soul Reaver games, but it's really the level design and visual aesthetic that sets Akuji apart from those games.  Soul Reaver was certainly no slouch with its gothic atmosphere, but Akuji's levels are more diverse.  You'll combat a boss on a giant spider web and make breathtaking jumps across the broken bows of a ship floating in space, in addition to the more standard indoor and outdoor levels, all with a tinge of voodoo creep-factor to them.  Like Soul Reaver, there is absolutely no loading time once you're inside the levels.  Transitions happen instantly, and even the pre-level loading screens are short.

Akuji's presentation is actually pretty top-notch, even if it hasn't held up well visually.  The voice acting is excellent, featuring none other than Shaft himself, Richard Roundtree, as Akuji and an excellent performance from Petri Hawkins-Byrd, best known as the bailiff on TV's Judge Judy, as Baron Samedi.  Between levels you're treated to interactions between Akuji and Samedi, and these are always engaging for their well-written dialogue and strong performances, as well as Akuji's own pre-level narration.  There's a surprising strength of story for an action-platformer.

The graphics haven't aged as well, with RAMPANT texture warping.  I rarely use all-caps in my reviews, but it's necessary here to illustrate the severity.  I don't know that I've ever seen it so bad in any other PS1 game, and it's one of the most dubious things the console was known for, so that's saying something.  It doesn't ruin the experience, but it's extremely distracting. 

As was often the case with PlayStation games, the lighting still looks good.  The PS1 was capable of some truly stunning light sourcing, and it's put to excellent use here to sell the supernatural qualities of the environments.  Characters and enemies are understandably low quality, but the enemy designs actually hold up pretty well.  The low polygon count didn't make Baron Samedi any less chilling.

As you might have guessed from my praise of the voice acting, the audio is quite good.  In addition to the strong performances, the music has an appropriately tribal feel with some ambient motifs to enhance the more horrific elements of the visuals.  Akuji's overall presentation sits somewhere between African culture and surreal horror, and it makes the game worth exploring.

Obviously this all comes with the caveats mentioned earlier.  The camera can be a hindrance.  The game supports the DualShock analog controller, but you're still relegated to swiveling the camera with the L1/R1 shoulder buttons or recentering with R2.  As you might expect with early 3D games, your depth perception is also going to be thrown off, making some of the game's many platforming sections a nightmare of trial and error.  In an effort to combat this, the developers were thoughtful enough to usually put solid ground underneath you, so at worst you'll simply have to try again, but occasionally you'll find yourself falling into the abyss and that can sometimes mean a lengthy trek back to the problem spot.  Checkpoints in the game's lengthier later levels are fewer and further between.

Akuji isn't among the PlayStation's best games or anything, but with its paltry asking price these days you have very little to lose giving it a shot.  I bought it when it was brand new back in the day, and I enjoyed it then, and even revisiting it now I found a lot to love.  If nothing else, it's a solid entry on Crystal Dynamics' already impressive resumé and it deserves more attention than it got.

Akuji: The Heartless was completed on a real PlayStation with no cheats.

Retro-Review: Loaded [PlayStation]

Loaded
Sony PlayStation

Developer: Gremlin Interactive
Publisher: Interplay
Rated: M for Mature
Released: 1995
Completed: 26 January 2016

When Loaded came out for the PlayStation, I'll admit I was a little jealous.  As a staunch and unyielding Saturn owner (at least until Metal Gear Solid came out), I remember the hype surrounding the timed Sony exclusive.  Magazines like DieHard GameFan gave it plenty of hyperbolic coverage, comparing it to bona fide classics like Smash TV and The Chaos Engine (known as Soldiers of Fortune on US home consoles).  The screenshots sure looked sweet and were loaded with awesome light sourcing that was the hallmark of early PlayStation games. 

Eventually, Loaded found its way to the Saturn, albeit with downgraded effects and plenty of slowdown.  Sega's complex machine always struggled with fast-paced 3D, and the lighting just wasn't up to snuff, but I still remember thinking how cool the game was.  It was hyper-violent, had six cool characters with unique weapons and attributes, featured frantic shoot 'em up gameplay, and it even had a great soundtrack to boot.

Twenty years later, I can only assume I was a dumb 90s teenager - which, to be fair, is exactly the target audience for Loaded - and I gave the game a free pass because it was gory.  The graphics may have been cutting edge in their time, but like the rest of the game, nothing about Loaded has aged well.  It reminds me of the original Grand Theft Auto.  Going back and playing it now, there's little substance, and even less fun in this relic of the early 3D era.

Loaded attempts a meager story.  Each of the six maniacs has been sent to a prison planet for crimes they didn't commit, and they all want to bust out and exact revenge on the man responsible for putting them there, FUB - Fat Ugly Boy. 

Every level is little more than a maze of corridors loaded with obnoxious enemies, and in just about all of them you have to find colored key cards to access new sections so you can kill more enemies and eventually make your way to the exit.  Most of the levels take place indoors, in nearly identical-looking rooms and industrial-style corridors, and the levels that take place outside all look nearly identical to one another with even more confusing layouts. 

I suppose the Smash TV, Chaos Engine, and even Gauntlet comparisons are somewhat apt, given the seemingly endless barrage of enemies you'll face.  But what separates those games from Loaded is those ones are actually fun.  Loaded's boring, bland level design and fetch-quests get real old real fast.  There's often a lot of backtracking once you obtain a key card, and seeing as how you have to get all four of them in each stage, it just becomes tedious.

Enemies don't have much variety either.  There are a few basic types of humans, a few robots, and some of the most annoying critter enemies any game has ever had.  Between the rats on speed, spider-crab-things, and stupid panther-dog-things, your health is chipped away by cheap enemies while you spin around, firing madly in an attempt to get them off of you.  The poor collision detection means your shots will often pass right through what looks like it should be a direct hit while the enemies continue to plague you.

I suppose the control works well enough, but the default scheme is ridiculously uncomfortable and once you've started a game, you're stuck with it.  There's no way to change it if you load a saved game later, so expect to have one hell of a claw-grip by the time it's over if you leave the strafe button mapped to L1.  Shooting is multi-directional, while strafing allows you to hold your aim in a specific direction.  I found myself holding the button most of the game, resulting in terrible hand cramps.

There's not much strategy in Loaded's action.  You can use walls as cover, but that seems to be a happy circumstance rather than by design because enemies are often so stupid they'll keep running into a wall in an attempt to get to you.  This gives you a chance to aim while they're hung up on the scenery. 

About the best thing I can say about Loaded is that the soundtrack is still pretty good.  The Pop Will Eat Itself track doesn't do much for me, but the original compositions are pretty cool electronic tunes that get the blood pumping.  It suits the action, even if the action isn't as entertaining as the music.

The graphics, on the other hand, aren't going to impress anyone.  The basic character designs are cool, but the game's top-down perspective means you can barely make out their features in-game.  Enemies all look generic, and to add an extra layer of frustration, frequently blend into the background.  Levels themselves are pretty much the same set of textures used over and over again.  All the prison levels look identical, all the space port levels look identical, and all the outdoor levels look identical, just with different layouts, but none of them look very good.

The light sourcing effects are still the best part of the presentation, if you take into context when the game was released.  In 1995, it was super cool to see your bullets illuminate a dark corridor.  Unfortunately, the slowdown I remember from the Saturn version is in the PlayStation original too.  It's not quite as prevalent, but whenever there's a lot of enemies on screen - which is often - the game gets extremely choppy. 

Lastly, the game's brutal difficulty may cause players to Frisbee the disc long before they finish the game.  The challenge wouldn't be so bad if you could overcome it with smarter play and strategy, but there's so little to be had that survival usually boils down to running around madly, hoping you can kill the enemies before they kill you or you can find a health power-up.  Thankfully, there are a plethora of cheat codes if you're so inclined, and once activated you don't have to enter them again.

Loaded is a product of the 90s through and through.  It focused on style and trying to be edgy in the hopes teenagers would flock to it, and it worked.  A sequel, Re-Loaded, was released not even a full year later, but by that time most players had moved on and sales were disappointing.  The original game is still fondly remembered by many, which makes it all the more surprising that my feelings have changed so drastically.  I'm usually a sucker for nostalgia, but Loaded's frustration factor outweighs any fun I managed to squeeze out of it.  The best thing I can say for it is that it's pretty short, but even the ending is an underwhelming disappointment.  The game doesn't even have end credits after its unrewarding short final cinematic!  Loaded is a load of something, alright...

Loaded was completed on a real PlayStation using the additional lives cheat.

Retro-Review: MediEvil [PlayStation]

MediEvil
Sony PlayStation

Developer: SCE Studio Cambridge
Publisher: Sony Computer Entertainment Europe
Rated: T for Teen
Released: 1998
Completed: 24 May 2015

You know those games that you're almost ashamed to admit you've ignored for years?  MediEvil may very well be the best example in my collection.  I remember purchasing it when it came out, playing through the first few levels, then shelving it for some other, probably inferior, game.  I say "probably inferior" because having just completed it, I'm now left contemplating where it ranks in the pantheon of all-time PlayStation greats.

MediEvil is an action-platformer with a humorous gothic atmosphere, reminiscent of Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas.  It's loaded with well-written humor, impressive graphics and lighting, and a spectacular soundtrack that also sounds like Burton's longtime collaborator Danny Elfman.  That's all just part of what makes MediEvil such a remarkable experience.

Graphics, sound, and control are all excellent, but they're also purely technical aspects.  What makes any game worth playing is its fun factor, which is more subjective to the player.  In my opinion, MediEvil has one of the highest flat out fun factors of any 3D action-platformer ever devised.  It may lack some of the depth of Super Mario 64, but it's an absolute blast to play from beginning to end.

As Sir Daniel Fortesque, a resurrected skeletal knight whose heroic exploits have been the subject of much hyperbole since his demise, it's up to you to stop the evil sorcerer Zarok from plunging the kingdom of Gallowmere into chaos and darkness.  Dan will run, jump, solve puzzles, and slice up enemies through more than a dozen masterfully designed levels chock full of secrets.  Not even the game's somewhat wonky 3D camera can spoil the fun.  It usually does a nice job, and you can rotate it using the shoulder buttons, but since this was before analog control became the standard, there is no full camera control.

If the occasional obscured camera is the biggest complaint you can levy against a game, you're in pretty good shape to begin with.  MediEvil excels in every other aspect of gameplay, providing just the right amount of challenge without being unfair or frustrating.  It's so much fun exploring every nook and cranny of the beautiful levels that you'll want to collect every chalice, which grants you access to a special area between stages that offers up new weapons to make your adventure a tad easier.

Each level has a distinct look and feel, including a haunted village, creepy cornfields, crystal caverns, and a ghostly pirate ship, and they're all brought to life wonderfully by Sony's little 3D powerhouse.  There is some occasional slowdown, but it's infrequent and never problematic.  Though most early 3D games have not aged very well, MediEvil holds up a lot better than most thanks to its great art style.  Sir Dan's comical appearance, with his toothy grin (he's missing the lower half of his jaw, you know), and cartoonishly large eyeball (he's missing the other one of those too) has lost none of its charm.

The game's audio also remains exceptional.  Not only is the score fantastic, but the voice acting is perfect.  Sarcastic gargoyles mock Sir Dan, and the final boss battle has a laugh-out-loud funny moment before it commences.

For the most part, Dan controls very well.  It's rare you'll take an unexpected dive off a cliff, though it does happen, and tricky jumps are blessedly kept to a minimum.  Throughout the game, you'll also earn several shields which can be used to deflect attacks instead of dodging, which is perfect for narrow spaces.  In addition to melee weapons, Dan also earns numerous ranged ones including throwing daggers, various bows, and an axe that works as both a throwing and hand-to-hand weapon.  The combat may be of the hack-and-slash variety, but choosing the right weapon is often the difference between an easy battle and a needlessly difficult one, giving the game an element of strategy.

Puzzles usually boil down to fetch quests, but often with a slight twist in order to obtain the item you need.  Even when they're in plain sight, there's usually some obstacle that needs to be cleared in order to access it, but it never requires pointless backtracking.  Midway through the game there's a great garden maze where you must solve four riddles by finding their answers inside the labyrinth, and each trip through opens up new areas to keep it from feeling like a repetitive slog.  There are some great traps that require a combination of reflexes and wits to escape unscathed as well.  Nothing is ever impossibly hard, but it's no cakewalk either.

What it all adds up to is a game that honestly blew me away.  I remembered enjoying what little I had played of it nearly two decades ago, but to think it has sat untouched since then is almost criminal.  In a single playthrough, MediEvil joins the ranks of Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, Metal Gear Solid, and Parasite Eve as one of the best gaming experiences the PlayStation has to offer.  It's so fiendishly fun I feel it deserves a place among other classics of the genre such as Rayman 2 and Super Mario 64.  Crash Bandicoot has some serious competition for the PlayStation's best platformer.

MediEvil was completed on a real PlayStation with no cheats.

Retro-Review: Alundra [Sony PlayStation]

Alundra
Sony PlayStation

Developer: Matrix Software
Publisher: Working Designs
Released: 1997
Rated: T
Completed: 22 March 2015

Oh how I miss Working Designs, the company that localized so many classic Japanese games.  Just about any time you see their logo on a game, you know you're getting quality - and not just in the game itself.  Working Designs was also renowned for their premium packaging, which usually included things like foil embossed artwork, full-color manuals, and extras ranging from world maps to various trinkets.  This has made their releases highly collectible, but it's the quality of the games they chose that always struck me.  Few publishers ever had such a stellar track record.

I remember stumbling across Alundra in a now-defunct local game shop in the early 2000s.  I bought it solely because of the packaging and that little pink logo I'd come to know and love, and like most games I bought, I played it for a few hours then moved onto something else.  It's probably a good thing it worked out that way, because if I had tried to beat this game on my own, without the use of a walkthrough, I'd have gone mad.

Alundra looks and plays very similar to Nintendo's Legend of Zelda franchise.  It's played from a (more or less) top-down viewpoint where you fight enemies in real time, traverse trap-laden dungeons, solve maddening puzzles, and collect equipment that will open up new dungeons and paths.  Hell, you can even slash away at grass to find money and life drops. You have a charged sword attack, and you collect diamond-shaped life vessels, which act exactly the same as Zelda's heart containers.  It all seems a bit like a knockoff to read it, but there are a few key differences.

What separates Alundra from Nintendo's storied franchise is several things - first: the story.  Let's be honest, no Zelda game is ever going to win an award for amazing storytelling.  They all pretty much boil down to "Link good, Ganon(dorf) bad, save Princess/Hyrule."  Alundra, on the other hand, contains a deeply emotional, mature story with themes of religious faith, life, and death.  So much death.

Alundra is far from a light-hearted romp, despite the anime-inspired graphics.  In truth, it's often a soul-crushing, depressing game.  Unlike most games of its kind, the hero doesn't save the day without consequences. 

After washing up on the shore of Inoa village the victim of a shipwreck, Alundra is nursed back to health by the local blacksmith.  Everything in town seems peachy at first, but soon the villagers' dreams turn into deadly nightmares and they fall victim one by one.  As it happens, Alundra possesses the rare power to enter these dreams, which sparks a quest to discover the truth about the Gods of the world, and the people who worship them.  Despite his best efforts, Alundra cannot save everyone, and each hard-fought victory has a bittersweet ending as another villager succumbs to the evil that has plagued their dreams.

As with most of their games, Working Designs' translation is extremely well done.  There are some dated pop culture references, which was customary and a little out of tone for such a serious story, but by and large the text is surprisingly thought-provoking for a late 90's adventure game.  Even today, few games dare to touch sensitive topics like faith and death with such care and maturity.

The other way Alundra separates itself from The Legend of Zelda is in its jumping puzzles.  Yes, jumping.  In a top-down adventure game.  In case you don't understand why that's a problem, let me break it down for you.

You're in a room with a large pit.  Several pillars rise out of this pit, and there are moving platforms to help you get from one side of the room to the other.  You line up your jump, wait for a platform to near, take a deep breath...and jump straight into the abyss because the platform that looks like it's on the same plane as you is actually too high for you to reach.  Too bad you couldn't tell because the game's sense of depth is thrown off by its camera angle.  So you fall into another room and work your way back to the pit again...only to have the same thing happen a few dozen times before you FINALLY line up the jumps just right.

It doesn't help that the jumping mechanics are wonky either.  Sometimes you need to be right on the edge of a platform to make a jump, so you'll inch forward, then press the X button and a direction, but the game only registers the d-pad and you fall, forcing you to try, try again.  God help you if you need to make diagonal jumps.

The trial and error frustration of the jumping puzzles caused more headaches than I would have liked, and bogged the game down.  Most games have a section I refer to as the "fun sink," where all the enjoyment you've had for the past however many hours is quickly forgotten as you struggle to pass one uncharacteristically hard area, but in Alundra it seemed to happen in nearly every dungeon from the midway point of the game until the end.

I stuck with it though, and with the help of a walkthrough, I was treated to a fantastic story and an exceptionally cool ending, told via a long hand-drawn anime cutscene.  No simple "congratulations - you win!" message here - Alundra's ending is truly superb and a well-deserved reward if you have the patience to follow through to the end.

I must emphasize the use of a walkthrough is strongly encouraged.  Alundra should take around 30 hours to complete if you know what you're doing.  If you don't, it could easily be double that.  There's a lot of backtracking in this game, and complex dungeons that require you to go into Room A, hit a switch, go to Room B, figure out how to reach a chest on a high ledge, get the key inside the chest, then return to Room A, unlock a door, kill all the monsters inside Room C to cause another switch to drop out of thin air, activate that one, then three rooms later, you'll see that the switches in rooms A and C affected something in room E.  If it all sounds confusing, that's because it is.  Throw in teleporters, and those infuriating jumping puzzles, and some of the dungeons can be absolute nightmares where you'll wander around for hours, possibly days, trying to figure out where to go and what to do next.

Bearing all that in mind, Alundra is still a pretty fantastic game.  It will challenge your reflexes and jumping skills more than your combat prowess, and you'll rarely (if ever) see a Game Over screen.  It has a few kinks I wish had been ironed out, but if you love The Legend of Zelda (specifically, A Link To The Past - and if you don't, we can't be friends), you owe it to yourself to check out Alundra.  They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and while it imitates much of Zelda's gameplay, Nintendo could certainly stand to imitate Alundra's incredible story.  I just curse the sadistic bastard who made all those jumping puzzles.

Alundra was completed on a real PlayStation with no cheats.

 

Retro-Review: Castlevania: Symphony of the Night [Sony Playstation]

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night
Sony PlayStation

Developer: Konami Computer Entertainment Tokyo
Publisher: Konami of America
Release Date: 1997
Completed: 03 January 2015
Rated: T

I'm not sure I would call any game a perfect experience, but Symphony of the Night is probably the closest thing to it.  Though Sony originally didn't want any 2D games on their original PlayStation machine, in an effort to showcase the system's 3D superiority over the competing Sega Saturn, they couldn't pass up getting such a notable franchise on their first foray into console gaming. 

The Castlevanias of old had always been strict 2D action-platformers, renowned for their intense difficulty.  Symphony eschews the formula by adding a giant, mostly non-linear castle to explore and RPG elements such as different equipment and an experience point system.  Similar to Nintendo's groundbreaking Metroid franchise, new areas of the game world open up as you find new items and powers, creating an incredibly rewarding sense of discovery and adventure, and coining the popular phrase Metroidvania.

I have reviewed Symphony of the Night before, back in the early days of this blog, but having completed it for the thirteenth time this afternoon, I wanted to sing its praises once more.  It's just that good.  I remembering purchasing the game before I owned a PlayStation of my own, playing through the game on my brother's console.  That same copy (original black label release) sits proudly on my shelf to this day.

The game opens with some spectacularly bad voice acting that has become the stuff of legend.  To save money, I'm assuming Konami hired the office janitor to provide the voice of Richter Belmont in the prologue, which retells the final battle from the game's Japan-only prequel Dracula X: Rondo of Blood.  Dracula himself fares a little better and is given such classic lines as "What is a man?  A miserable little pile of secrets!  But enough talk... Have at you!"

Shortly after the prequel, you take control of Alucard, the inconspicuosly named son of Dracula, who has interrupted his eternal slumber in order to stop his father's return once more.  Alucard first appeared in the NES classic Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse, and this game pays homage to that fact several times.  Of course, you barely set foot in the castle before Death shows up and steals all your gear like a jerk.  I suppose it wouldn't be much of a game if you had powerful equipment right from the start, so instead you're forced to scavenge for new weapons, armor, and accessories, as well as single-use items that range from stat buffs to the usual life and magic power restoratives found in every RPG.

There are so many things that make Symphony special.  Even with the somewhat drastic change in gameplay mechanics, it still feels like Castlevania, with atmospheric and incredibly beautiful graphics.  Even today, this is a fantastic looking game.  There is some noticeable slowdown at times, but the castle is lavishly detailed with each area looking vastly different, and the lighting and effects are stunning.  Alucard and his enemies are also meticulously detailed and fluidly animated.  In true Castlevania fashion, you still destroy candles in order to find money, hearts, and other power-ups, which always puzzled me.  How do you hide a sword in a candle?  For that matter, who keeps relighting all of them?  If you leave a room then immediately come back, all the candles you've destroyed will be relit.  Whoever has that job must be very efficient, and they must absolutely hate Alucard.

There is a wide variety of enemies, and unlike standard RPGs, very few are simple palette swaps.  There are a few different kinds of skeletons, for example, but they all have different attacks and animations.  Most of the enemies are completely unique, and encountering new ones is always a fun treat.  Though once again I'm left to wonder why a crow drops bags of gold when killed.  What do you need that money for?  You're a bird.

The voice acting may be endearingly bad, but enough legitimate praise cannot be lavished upon Michiru Yamane's musical score.  Yamane had previously worked on the Sega Genesis installment, Castlevania: Bloodlines, but thanks to the CD format's extra storage capacity, her score for Symphony of the Night is as breathtaking as the visuals.  Beautifully orchestrated with flourishes of rock 'n' roll guitars and gothic instrumentation, the music is haunting and unforgettable.  In fact, I'm listening to it in iTunes as I write this.

The game is notably easier than its predecessors, thanks in part to ability to level up, but that doesn't mean it's a cakewalk.  Early on, you're very vulnerable, and the challenge ramps up significantly in the game's second half until you acquire a certain equipment combination that might as well be a giant, red Win button.  Spoiler alert (though if you haven't finished this game by now, what the hell is wrong with you?), but what appears to be the final battle with a possessed Richter Belmont is just the halfway point.  If done properly, you must play through the entire castle again, but this time it's inverted. 

I could be cynical and say it's a cheap way to make the game longer, but in truth I'm actually amazed by how much care went into making a castle that is playable upside down and rightside up.  In both versions, you'll have to use some of your special abilities, such as turning into a bat or mist, in order to reach other areas.  The level design is superb, and the inverted castle is just as much fun to play through as the regular version.

Once you've completed the game, you can play through it again as Richter Belmont.  He lacks the ability to level up, which makes the game feel much more like a traditional Castlevania title, and makes it a more challenging experience as well.  It's an excellent bonus that's well worth spending the time to experience.

There's not much more I can say about Symphony of the Night that hasn't been said over the course of the last 18 years since it's initial release.  It remains the best entry in the venerable franchise, and one of the best games of all-time on any platform. 

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night was completed on a real Sony PlayStation with no cheats.