Xbox Series Look - Air Twister

For a very brief period, this review blog actually had scores. It wasn't exactly Metacritic-friendly though, since it was divided into a Game Rating and My Rating. As one might guess, the first score was determined by how successful the game was at... being a game. Are the controls good? Is there a lot of replay-value? All of the standard qualities a person would look for in an interactive product. My rating was a little more nebulous. Did the game's themes resonate with me? Was I able to connect with its atmosphere and unique ideas? Basically, it's rating all those things that make a video game more than just somebody hopping around and shooting things. A couple of titles that immediately come to mind are Deadly Premonition and Drakengard. Mediocre, sometimes poor by "objective" measures, but I love and cherish them. Like any piece of art, an unforgettable experience carries much more weight than mechanical proficiency. If I were to give a My Rating to Air Twister, it'd easily be a 10 out of 5. 

There once was a Bubble, and everything was good. Along came a Needle, and now everything is bad. Princess Arch, member of the Royal Family, heir to the almighty Air Twister powers, lover of mushrooms, has taken it upon herself to destroy all of the Needles and restore Queen Bubble. Put those arcade skills to the test across 12 stages of shoot 'em up action. Enemies will approach in various formations. Shoot them down quickly with blaster bolts or lock-on shots. Any that are still floating are liable to counterattack, so be ready to dodge at all times. Arch has a health meter that replenishes slightly with every cleared stage, but stray projectiles will eat away at it and then some if left un-dodged. The most severe attacks will carve huge chunks out of the heroine. 

Air Twister is basically Space Harrier from an alternate timeline or another dimension. It's a creation not of this world, the fever dream that didn't disappear, with an aesthetic that at first glance wouldn't look out of place in Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication music video. Disparate ideas and themes are slammed together to form realms that are transformative and awfully charming. Honestly, I was sucked in moments after starting the game. It's got a wonderful weirdness to it that's intoxicating. A long time ago, back when Walt Disney World had an arcade*, I spent an unnatural amount of time staring at the attract screen for Sega's Ocean Hunter. Everything from the art-style to the female protagonist's hair fascinated the hell out of me. Arch and the world surrounding her carries a similar vibe. The sci-fi and fantasy elements are given a flair that dances gracefully upon a thin wire above the uncanny valley. For lack of any better descriptions, I'll just say that it's Prog as fuck, like some Peter Gabriel-era Genesis albums got in a shoot-out. 

The tangential relation that this game shares with its 1985 forebear extends to how it's played, as well. More pointedly, you'll suffer quite a bit if you rely purely on reflexes and zip all around the screen. When an enemy fires a projectile, there is an extremely brief moment where it hangs in the air, almost like it's waiting for Arch to make the first move. Basically, these bullets are predicting where they think the heroine will go. Space Harrier is more straightforward with a "if you're not moving, you're dying" mindset. Here, you have to think a second ahead and lead enemy fire astray. It'll take a little while to get used to. Given enough practice, you'll develop a sixth sense for it. 

If you're intent on unlocking everything in Air Twister, then you're guaranteed to get a ton of practice. Enemies drop stars when they're destroyed. This is the currency used in Adventure Field to obtain numerous special items. A substantial celestial investment will turn Arch into a force of nature. One of the earliest weapons she can obtain has a charged shot that'll instantly eradicate all onscreen enemies. Purists need not worry, because these overpowered weapons and other upgrades can't be taken into Arcade Mode. Enemy patterns are also the same in every playthrough, so even if your only concern is acquiring stars, you'll unconsciously memorize everything. Inevitably, the muscle memory will stick, and you might go from "I need the screen-clearing gun to survive." to "I need something harder than the 1 Hit = Death difficulty." 

What takes Air Twister from solid to spectacular is its music. Yu Suzuki commissioned Valensia for the soundtrack, and this could very well go down as the best decision of all time. Every song choice adds delicious atmosphere to the onscreen action. I'd even go so far to say that they're intertwined like the chains of infinity, almost as if this was the video game adaptation of a concept album. Granted, a number of tracks are re-recordings from Valencia's previous albums, but they still work astonishingly well, and the handful of exclusives are just perfection. 

Most important of all, this game embraces all the uncommon things. I love how confidently it strides into the surreal and strange. The melee attacks a few bosses use look like special effects from a 70s music video, and it's just... beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

*Maybe Walt Disney World still has an arcade. I haven't been there in almost 25 years.

Sega Genesis Look - ToeJam & Earl

I can't understand why I've been struggling so hard on a ToeJam & Earl review. This is one of the most relatable video games out there. Who hasn't wished they could find the pieces of their broken spaceship and get the funk off of Earth? Knowing myself though, I'd crash into another asteroid and end up right back on the motherfucker. Apologies to all the fellow earthlings out there, but this planet is indeed a motherfucker. So much wonder and beauty that we're destroying in the pursuit of an endless stream of fake shit. Perhaps that's what makes writing this review so difficult. The worst our funkotronian duo ever had to deal with was soul-sucking suburbia. They played easy mode while the rest of us are stuck in Lunatic. Still, I'd be lying if I said that I don't appreciate the quaint vibes that emanate from this Sega Genesis classic.

Back in 1991, there wasn't much of a roguelike formula to shake up, but that didn't stop ToeJam & Earl from taking the genre in otherworldly directions. The goal is simple enough. Explore 25 randomized floors of increasing difficulty while hunting down the 10 pieces of the Rapmaster Rocketship. Each floor consists of rooms separated by hallways. These rooms contain various interactions that help or hinder the aliens' chances of getting home. What sets this game apart from so many others is that there are no walls, creating new opportunities and obstacles. If there's something that you missed on a previous floor, then it's just a short hop (and a long fall) off the nearest ledge. With speedy or springy shoes, one could jump a chasm to find a shortcut or escape danger. However, as anyone familiar with the game will attest, there are few things more discouraging than getting swept up by a cyclone and deposited into the void. 

On Earth, there are three kinds of people: the kind that want your money, the kind that want you dead, and Santa Claus. Defending oneself from hostiles isn't easy when there aren't any swords or phaser rifles. There are, however, no shortage of presents lying around. If the situation looks grim, then crack open a lovingly wrapped package and see what happens. You might be gifted a temporary boon like Icarus wings, earthling-eliminating tomatoes, or those shoes I mentioned a second ago. Other effects are instantaneous, like the aptly named Unfall, which undoes that last time you inadvertently fell off the edge of the world. In truly random fashion, not all of them are winners. Some guy dressed like a carrot identifies presents... for a price, but smart players will learn to live with it. The only thing more discouraging than getting tossed away by a cyclone is cracking open a Total Bummer and watching ToeJam and/or Earl's health evaporate.

Once you get a handle on the basics, you'll find that ToeJam & Earl is mostly laidback and kind-of relaxing. The spacious floors and relatively slow walking speed create a chill atmosphere. Unlike its 2019 successor Back in the Groove - which I think very highly of btw - there aren't dozens of objects to interact with or minigames to play for additional goodies. It's just you and your alien buds out for a walk, and sometimes there's a crazy earthling causing trouble. I don't want to say that nothing happens early on, because it's always important to load up on presents and other essentials for the trials ahead, but this game takes a lot longer than a minute to get going. 

While later floors ramp up the intensity, the pacing remains about the same. Without presents, all the funky extraterrestrials have is their own two (or three) legs. If they're being chased by a maniac, then it's going to take some skillful maneuvering to survive. Methodical is definitely the word of the day. You can't just move in one direction and hope for the best. In the case of cyclones, sometimes the best plan is to step aside and away from its path. The movement in this game is actually really good. It's slow, but flexible enough to allow players to get away from most dangers. 

The last third of this spaceship scavenger hunt is where the real nightmares come out to play. Boogiemen are everywhere. Dealing with waves of these ghouls for several floors is not an uncommon occurrence. I suppose it could be worse, because even with their staggering numbers, I'd rather put up with them than rampaging ice cream trucks or lawnmower men. ToeJam & Earl are too funky for invulnerability frames, so certain earthlings will juggle them into oblivion if they get close. It sucks, but I can't get too mad about it. The most dangerous foes don't show up too often, so careful players should have a stock of spare lives to fall back on in case the worst happens.

Still, this is as far from a modern roguelike as I can imagine. There isn't "excitement around every corner", and the slow-burn progression ensures that it'll be quite some time before the threat of imminent death becomes real. Shoot, this isn't really a classic roguelike either, because nobody is getting wiped out by a freak accident or an endgame monstrosity appearing from out of nowhere. And... really, it's awfully hard to get cornered in a world where walls don't exist. Ultimately, I enjoy ToeJam & Earl for all the ways it eschews genre standards. Having multiple lives instead of just one is huge. 

The singular truth is that this game is on a very, very short list of roguelikes that I'd ever purposefully come back to. I've played quite a few over the years, but that's part of being a game reviewer. Choice is a luxury. Closer to the point, games that want to see me dead, my stuff taken away, and my soul tossed in the bin like it never existed just bum me out. I got enough shit to worry about. Tossing the feeling of always being one step away from losing everything onto the pile is too much. 

Alright, I'm rambling now. Let's shut it down until next time.

Sega Genesis Look - Mazin Saga: Mutant Fighter

Today it's two games in one! The first game is a solid hack & slasher with good fundamentals and enough depth to keep its players invested. Each stage culminates in a spectacular kaiju battle. These 1v1 fights aren't as deep, but the excellent visuals and animation are more than enough to sear a permanent spot on anyone's heart. I don't have to tell you that this taste of greatness had me believing that Mazin Saga: Mutant Fighter deserves all the flowers... and then I played the second game. 

...Look. I'll spare you the "Why can't I just have a fun time? Woe is me!" crap, because deep in my rotted soul is that sicko who loves it when good games get a little too high on their own supply and make bad decisions. It would've been simple if the only difference between the Easy & Normal/Hard settings was some tweaked numbers and maybe some extra enemies. Instead, everything has become complicated. Complicated and annoying.

If you've already played the game, then you know what I'm talking about... or maybe you don't and are just that skilled. Here's a little advice for the latter; don't waste your time chastising some rando for not "getting" your game. My abilities are limited, but I make the best of them regardless. Moreover, it's my review. If you don't like what I'm about to say, then write your own, make a video, whatever. All I care about is that you understand where I'm coming from. Explaining why I believe a game falls short of greatness is my respite from a life devoted entirely to endless debt and witnessing one preventable tragedy after another.

For the moment, let's focus on the one aspect of Mazin Saga: Mutant Fighter that still holds up remarkably: the belt-scrolling stages. It's here that Mazinger Z does battle with a wide variety of foes, all with their own abilities. The straight-forward approach works to an extent, but you're liable to get knocked around if your positioning or spacing is off. Enemies all have a specific range where they're most effective, and combat essentially revolves around keeping them out of that range. For example, guys with flame-throwers will always try to keep just out of Mazinger's reach while still remaining close enough to burn him. 

Since the enemy attacks in groups, get used to them working in concert to shut down multiple approaches. If you see a green guy hanging out with the flamethrower guy, then be wary of his jump-kick, since it could potentially halt an aerial assault. The game expects its players to use the entirety of the arena to maneuver around danger. You'll no doubt sense the numerous similarities to Golden Axe. Mazinger even has a running jump attack that's very powerful and immensely satisfying to land. It's a really impressive take on the formula. Veterans are rewarded for knowing the strengths and weaknesses of their enemies. At the same time, newcomers aren't repeatedly stonewalled just because they haven't quite grasped the value in spacing. I will say however that blobby guys require a very specific approach, and trying to deviate it from will result in pain. By the by, forgive me for calling everyone "---- guy". I'm sure they have names, but they aren't in the manual.

There's a little bit of weirdness though. When the A button is pressed, Mazinger Z does one of those Mega Crush or "Get off of me!" attacks where he spins around slashing everyone nearby. It's effective enough I suppose, but the health cost is uncharacteristically high. In a lot of cases, it's better to just take the hit. Also strange is that the smaller healing items replenish very little health. Let's say it's about as much as what it costs to use the Mega Crush. This is one detail I shouldn't be concerned about, especially when health replenishes to full at the end of each stage, but you know me... always nitpicking. 

Oh, and since I'm in that state of mind, I might as well complain about the auto-scrolling segment. Our hero has to jump across some pits while getting chased by a Bio-Beast. Bio-Beasts are kaiju that can make appearances in each stage, but usually just serve as the big end-boss. Anyway, this chase sequence is unique in the sense that players must use the Bio-Beasts outstretched arm as a platform to clear some gaps. It's a neat concept, though brought down a bit by some jumps requiring specific timing. I'm here for the hack & slash action and kaiju battles, not platforming. Also, falling results in instant death and having to restart the section. When has that ever been fun?

Provided the difficulty is set to easy, Kaiju battles aren't much more than entertaining spectacles. Each Bio-Beast has their own array of moves, and it's on Mazinger Z to block attacks and find the right opportunities to counter. Surprisingly, there's not a lot here for fighting game fans to latch onto. The protagonist has a handful of sword-swings, but no combos or special moves. He does have something resembling a "meaty". Knock an opponent down, and then press down/back & attack as they're getting up. They'll be forced to block or take another hit. Oh, and be well aware that Bio-Beasts will use this same technique. Their attacks have a lot of active frames and if you're not blocking... then you're suffering. Still, the CPU isn't too troublesome to deal with, so it's not that big of a deal.

Since Mazin Saga: Mutant Fighter is a product for the Sega Genesis, easy mode players won't ever see the final two stages. Stage 6 is a series of Bio-Beast refights, and 7 is the climactic battle with Hell Mazinger. It's only fair to have to put in a little more effort to see the ending... right? Well, unfortunately this is when the second game comes stomping in, bringing with it much frustration and misery.

Kaiju Battles on Normal & Hard are showcases of just how bad Mazinger Z is at his own game. In order to set the scene, I want you to picture what life for Ryu would be like if he couldn't hadoken or shoryuken or tatsumaki senpukyaku... or combo, or chain two hits together, or do chip-damage. Still not weak enough? Well hell, let's give him a 30-frame jab, take away his ability to hit an opponent's outstretched limbs, and give him the worst hitboxes out of the entire roster. Let's take away every strength until there's nothing left but weakness. 

I don't know who I hate more; Buster Claw or Mazinger Z.

What I'm saying here is that any difficulty above easy will expose Mazinger Z as being completely ineffective at the one thing he was created to do. Bio-Beasts don't respect him, because he can't do anything to push past their defenses. A typical fighting game has a multitude of methods for punishing turtles, but what can this kaiju killer do if all the kaiju decide to block? Ultimately, the only reason I ever win is because the CPU decided to throw the match.

It might not be apparent for the first few bouts, but I assure that everything changes for the worse once you reach Buster Claw. He doesn't have any fancy techniques like a projectile or an invincible charging attack. What he does have is the complete unwillingness to give his opponents anything. This long-tailed fiend will block 99% of whatever you throw at it. Predictably, the 1% of attacks you can actually land all do miniscule damage. Watch out for chip damage, because it'll add up quickly when all anyone can do is block his meaty limbs with no hope of countering. Hell Mazinger's defenses aren't quite as oppressive, but he does SNK Boss amounts of damage with every strike, and you're stuck with Mazinger Z-tier. 

The second game might as well be called the Buster Claw & Hell Mazinger show, because the shadow they cast is unending. It's as if the majority of the quest is no longer spent in belt-scrolling segments hacking through minions and battling the other Bio-Beasts in 1v1 bouts. One's time and focus are going to be dedicated to two adversaries, and all they have to offer is frustration. There are much better options out there if all I want is to be humiliated by an overpowered CPU. Art of Fighting 2. Samurai Shodown. That's right Nakoruru, bully me all day every day. Punish me for existing. At least in these games I can play as a fighter that's actually designed for fighting, and not some unrespectable chump who had no business being humanity's last hope.

Mazin Saga: Mutant Fighter's first game absolutely deserves a playthrough. Save the second game for when you're feeling a little too good about yourself and need to be brought back down to Earth.

They seriously gave Buster Claw a stage that hides his tail attack.

Sega Genesis Look - Battle Mania: Daiginjou

I've got some good news for everyone doing their best in the two thousand and twenty-six. Battle Mania: Daiginjou is still a fucking cool ass game. It reignites the dream that I live for. The dream that all data centers explode, all billionaires die horribly, and I can finally design the perfect video game website. You know exactly the one I'm talking about. It'll have that Geocities / Angelfire energy set to the maximum, random pictures of games that kick butt, gifs on top of gifs, and the piece de resistance; wallpapers that are so extra and so high-quality that everyone will take notice. They'll all start saying "Whoa! This is one serious critic! I'll have to sign his Guestbook and add him to my Web Ring!" 

A video game's magic comes from its ability to make the improbable look effortless. This 1993 shmup by Vic Tokai isn't afraid to get a little crazy, poke holes in what we take for granted, and make itself the target of many pranks. All nine of its stages masterfully drag players through situations that ride the razor thin wire over total absurdity. There is so much that shouldn't work, and yet... and yet it's all so seamless! It's as if the Trouble Shooters were breaking all of the rules, rewriting them as they go, and not once did I ever feel like I was left behind.

Exactly like its predecessor, players must navigate Mania Ohtorii and Maria Haneda through another fine mess. It seems the two broke girls have crossed paths with Kikokukyou, a cult that's planning to assassinate the world. Multiple control schemes are offered, but the basic idea is that one button fires, another switches the direction Maria is firing, and the last unleashes a special weapon. Contact with enemies or bullets costs Mania a life, but it's hard to imagine a scenario where she actually runs out of them. Extra lives are - at least by STG standards - literally everywhere. Just make absolutely sure to avoid getting crushed by walls, unless you're curious about what the Game Over screen looks like.

I knocked the first Trouble Shooter for being too easy, yet tempting as it may be, I can't extend the same criticism to the sequel. Lives are exceedingly generous and a 1CC is enough to guarantee the max 999,999 score, but neither detail really bothers me. I look at the "hi-score" as how many lives are remaining when the final boss is defeated. Also, even though the jump in difficulty isn't as high as it could've been, this sequel is more committed to its philosophy. Each stage presents a completely fresh set of circumstances and challenges. Getting through them isn't too tough, but there's still a big incentive to play smart and keep losses to a minimum. 

What makes the level-design work so well is balance. Expectations are toyed with regularly, but it never gets to the point where damage (or death) seems unavoidable. Stage 4 is a dangerous trip into Kikokukyou's bowels. All of the narrow corridors put players in a constant state of unease. The game will play around a little and even dole out a couple of mini-heart-attacks by forcing Mania into sudden tight spots. Even then, it has enough restraint to avoid cheap methods to steal lives and artificially extend playtime. There's a noticeable confidence that emanates from this STG. It knows it works in peculiar ways and ensures the player doesn't become the target of any jokes. 

There's probably a lot more I'm supposed to say in a Battle Mania: Daiginjou review, but eh... I can't imagine what's missing. Sure, I'd love to have something to complain about, no matter how inconsequential. Any excuse to pad out a review is a good excuse. Sadly, that's just not happening. Maybe the recent string of middling titles has thrown me off, and I need the raise the bar again by covering nothing but greats, unlock the full extent of my analytical powers... How disgusting! I'd rather think about that dream website of mine, the imaginary place where I publish reviews that are just a thousand variations of "Oh my shit! This fucking rules hard! DANG!!!"  

At least I have my kickass wallpaper for that mythical website.

Sega Genesis Look - Jewel Master

Jardine is on the attack! The Ancient Kingdom faces annihilation! Bodies, piling to the sky! Take control of the four Jewel Masters in a last-ditch effort to end the chaos and restore harmony. Today's look is at another Sega Genesis side-scroller that has left me with mixed feelings. I like the concept, the execution is nearly there, but the game feels small and tightly wound. I'm not going to pretend like I've never enjoyed a svelte 15–20-minute action-platformer or shootemup, but Jewel Master needed to be a little meatier. 

First off, let's talk the number of stages. There are five in all, and they're divided up into sections. Either you're running from left to right blasting whatever gets in your face, or you're running from left to right to left to right with bits of hopping or falling mixed in here and there. Occasional mini-bosses and the generally short length of everything keeps the monotony from setting in. What's here is fundamentally sound, but I wanted more. This is the type of game that's dying for adventure elements. Something players will notice is that there are multiple hallways that don't lead anywhere, empty rooms, and other incomplete areas. I get the sense that there were some ambitions had to be cut short, as the development team was forced to meet some comically short deadline (like oh so many other Mega Drive games). 

The bits and pieces of something that might've been great still remain. Hidden familiars that boost the master's maximum health provide a reason to explore. Equipping wind rings to utilize traversal powers like a speed boost and a double jump is a really neat idea, with a lot of potential. However, most of Jewel Master's time isn't spent creatively. The ring combinations allow for some neat spells, like an ice dagger bouncing off of walls and a fire serpent slithering across the ground. The likelihood that they'll see any real usage is very low. Wind + Ice solves every predicament up until the second phase of the fourth boss, where it's then replaced by the Blade (Wind + Earth & Ice + Fire). A few dedicated players have managed to clear the game without the ultimate weapon. It's an impressive accomplishment, especially since it requires dealing with an absolute tank of a final boss. However, that doesn't make up for the bulk of a short quest being spent with the dependable yet unexciting Wind + Ice. 

Jewel Master gets all of its "replay-value" from being a tough little game, particularly on any difficulty setting above easy. The damage enemies are capable of dealing can vary wildly. Getting nibbled on by bats might take 1 or 2 hits to see a change in one's life meter. A fireball could swallow a block and a half. Whatever the case, you'll have to assume that the Masters are as squishy as any Belmont, but without the stack of lives and unlimited continues those vampire hunters always seem to benefit from. I also can't help but get annoyed when I have to replay an entire stage after using a continue. Some slight changes to Jewel Master could've resulted in six or seven stages instead of only five. However, pushing players back further when they come up short is how "replay-value" is created, so it has to be five stages. 

I don't want to continue harping on a game that has made short and punishing a part of its identity, but that's just how I am when I see potential go unrealized. There's some interesting stuff here but... eh... well whatever. It's already time for me to move on to something else. Give it a try anyway. You might connect with it better than I could.

Sega Genesis Look - Exile

Lately, or at least moreso than usual, I've judged video games on how good of a rental they were back in the day. Exile is most definitely not a perfect rental. It's not a great, good, or even passable rental either. This was one of those rare in-offensive picks for when I wanted to experience the little joys of leveling up and buying new gear. "Why not just rent Phantasy Star 2 or 3?" said a hypothetical voice. There's an easy explanation. This side-scrolling hack & slasher can be easily completed in a weekend. With hardly any effort, I get to experience the grand epic of Sadler, as he travels a war-torn world in search of the holimax. Once he obtains it, he'll be able to dimensionalize the mandalas to construct space. At least, I think that's how the story went. In an attempt to strip out even the vaguest allusions to The Crusades, the localization ends up reading like ten different Tales of games got into a head-on collision. There are so many proper nouns that nothing makes sense.

Even if I can look past the bonkers storyline, it's hard for me to see Exile has anything besides a struggle game. It's what I imagine Nanao from Robot Alchemic Drive would play after a delicious bowl of bread & water soup... if a giant robot hadn't smashed her Mega Drive the night before. There are game-like elements such as walking, jumping, and slashing. Dungeons have a point A, a point B, and sometimes even a point C. Unfortunately, the conclusion I keep drawing is this might be the one of the most absurd cases of reverse-difficulty I've ever covered for this site.

Just so we're on the same page, reverse-difficulty is when a game starts out being very tough and gradually gets easier over time. A classic example would be something like King's Field. In the very beginning, you're an unlucky loser with both feet in the grave. Given enough time and patience, those days of being insta-killed by everything will be ancient history. Exile is... okay it's never a hard game at any point. If you spend some of your starting cash on convulsant then you'll have no trouble getting over the single hurdle that is the first dungeon and its boss. Yeah, only this game would use a seizure-inducer to replenish hit-points. I guess the secret to becoming a badass assassin like Sadler is ingesting narcotics and poisons as if they were tik-taks. It wouldn't surprise me if the XZR trilogy was really just some guy getting fucked up on hardcore drugs and wandering the desert.   

"We had two bags of kayu, seventy-five pellets of aconitum, five sheets of high-powered piper beetle, a salt-shaker half full of cantharis, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored poisons, somnifacients, cocas, and-"

The only other thing you need to do in the first dungeon is take a few steps forward, or at least until the first giant ant you stumble upon respawns the instant it's killed. Something you'll quickly realize in this game is that dungeons are 1% getting lost, 4% treasure chests or bosses, and 95% respawning enemies. Find a safe spot to stand, hold down the attack button, and watch an infinite number of monsters waltz into your blade. Whatever semblance of friction you might've felt in the first few minutes of the game will never occur again. Now, I'll honor the suggestion that somebody would want to attempt a low-level playthrough. It's a big world out there with infinite possibilities; perhaps that somebody does exist. I'm positively not ever going to be them, and that's because I can't take any of the bosses seriously. 

One laughable fight that immediately comes to mind is the second boss. He's some crusader on a horse charging left and right, hoping to gore an assassin with his lance. Unfortunately for him, his arena features platforms that Sadler can use to avoid the charges. Doubly unfortunate is that down-stabs will erase the pitiable fool. Almost every other boss has a tremendously easy pattern and dies in a few hits. 

Exile is just another interactive product. While it does exhibit properties that are commonly seen in video games, none of them even attempt to capture the heart or mind. I don't hate it though, so hurray for the littlest thing.

Sega Genesis Look - Rambo III

The first and last positive thing I'll say about Rambo III is that it's not as bad as the movie. Okay, I'm being unfair. There are a couple of moments that coalescence into something that can be seen as amusing or perhaps even thrilling. More often than not however, this Run & Gun just can't seem to connect the dots. It's got the ideas and mechanics. All of the pieces are in play, but what's here isn't enough to make me feel whole.

Basically, you're John Rambo on a mission in Afghanistan to rescue Colonel Trautman from the Soviet Army. There are six missions. In three of them, you rush from one end of a level to the other. In the other three, you have to find X or destroy Y. Four missions end with a boss battle. Anyone who lived through the 1980s saw these man vs helicopter and/or tank battles advertised in gaming magazines. Sex appeal sells games, and there's nothing sexier than shooting arrows at heavily armored vehicles. 

Most of this game's appeal is I presume tied to its scoring system. Clearing missions as fast as possible will result in additional bonus points, usually far more than if someone just a found a corner to stand in, so they could gun down respawning soldiers for however long they felt like holding the fire button. Extra points are also awarded for knifing someone. Continuous stabbings increase the rewards, but only as long as you can keep your man from taking one in the chest... or leg. Yeah, this is one of those shooters with a hurtbox that's too large. Dodging a bullet often means running well out of its way. It gets... kind of inconvenient, which is not a word that should be associated with a death-defying act, but here we are.

The straightforward missions tend to be the highlight. Running through battlefields, (clumsily) navigating a sea of bullets, laying waste to whatever gets in my way. It's during these occasions that the dots connect and I start having a good time. There is a genuine sense of enjoyment that can only come from leaving a time bomb that erases half-a-dozen pursuers in a single blast while gunning down another half-a-dozen foolish to enough to get in the way of a machine gun with unlimited ammo. Shooting works really well thanks to Rambo having two different firing modes. While running, his shots are direct, good for taking out what's directly in front of him. Standing still causes bullets to fan out, eliminating crowds with ease. 

However, this is one of those games where players aren't supposed to have it easy. A kill doesn't mean anything unless it's earned. That mean closing in on someone and ending their days on this planet with the knife. If you've ever played Shock Troopers, then you know just how satisfying it can be to look a terrorist in the eyes as their life slips away... Actually, let me rephrase that. You know just how satisfying it can be to receive a prize for stabbing someone, stopping their heart with a single punch, etc. It's the risk and the reward. Almost all of the power-ups in Rambo III are tied to knife kills. If you're running out of explosive arrows or bombs, then you're not playing risky enough.

I don't have a problem with this system. It works fantastically in the aforementioned Neo Geo shooter. Here though? Ehm... this is the part where I get confused. Extra lives aren't earned through score. Instead, they're obtained by completing missions without dying... or as a rare drop from a knife kill. So, why would I take risks for a potential reward when I could avoid them entirely for a guaranteed reward? Actually, let's take scoring out of the equation and look at the act itself. Using the knife just isn't as fun as it should be, and that's entirely because the window of opportunity is too small.

Barring any sort of variables, the instant an enemy appears onscreen, Rambo has a couple of seconds to run up and stab them. If they remain unstabbed, then the enemy will stop for a very brief half-second. It's like being spotted in a Metal Gear game, minus the exclamation point. After that half-second, the enemy will resume moving, only this time they'll also be firing bullets towards the nearest guy with no shirt. At this point, they might as well be immune to knives, because nobody is touching them without eating a bullet. 

If your first knife-attack misses, don't even bother attempting a second. 

I believe that at least as far as video games are concerned, the knife should always be in play. This game might allow players to use melee whenever they please, but not only do the risks outweigh the rewards, but it's just not feasible on a fundamental level. Rambo III really would've benefitted from some modernized touches, like giving its protagonist a smaller hurtbox. I'd also suggest a bullet-canceling mechanic where a soldier's bullets are erased if they're stabbed. You know how revenge bullets in Batsugun* are canceled when you're close enough to an enemy as it's exploding? Something like that. 

Also, while I did just spend quite some time discussing a small part of the game, it's the most interesting part by far. Take the melee mechanics away and you're left with a tolerable yet bland shoot-fest that has mundane level-design. The most replay-value anyone is going to get out of it is memorizing the locations of X & Y for the three missions that require them. Every other attempt to break up the monotony just doesn't seem to work. I can't even appreciate the harder difficulty settings because they overtune the boss's rate of fire. Meh.

*Batsugun Special Version if my memory is correct.