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. 

Sega Genesis Look - Crack Down

It's the 21st century. Doctor K. has seized control of Artificial Life Systems. It's a frightening technology capable of an endless supply of Replicants. Not content with his super soldier army, the maniacal scientist intends to bring about a new age, one that would require the creation of a God. An artificial deity whose construction is being led by a Baphomet-worshipper probably won't have mankind's best interests in mind. Out of options, the federal government sends their two special service agents. Take control of saboteurs Ben & Andy, sneak through Replicant-infested facilities, and bomb everything to Hell. 

As you know, during the Mega Drive's early days, Sega programmed many of the third-party games that appeared on the platform. It seems they were so busy with other company's works that Crack Down's home release had to be handed off to Hot-B. The results are... pretty exceptional. Both the arcade original and its port are tactical espionage action games. Place them side-by-side and you'll see innumerable similarities. The instant you start playing them; however, you'll realize that they couldn't be further apart.

In the arcades, Crack Down is a mechanically rich game that demands constant adaptation. Through each of the 16 stages, your task is to get from one side of the area to the other, planting bombs while avoiding or blasting everyone who gets in your way. The replicants that stalk the halls are not to be underestimated. Yes, you have both the agency to get the drop on them, as well as the advantage of being able to attack them from a diagonal position, but all they need is to strike you once. While you have tools for stealthily evading detection (and bullets), they can't be relied on overmuch. If a replicant notices you sidling against a wall, they'll use their left hand to fire a gun instead of their right, guaranteeing the demise of anyone who didn't catch this subtle yet essential detail. Naturally, this doesn't apply to replicants who are using a weapon that requires both hands, but if that weapon is a flame-thrower, then you'd better just stay well out of their way. 

If you're the type of player who relies on quick-thinking and quick-reflexes to get out of a bad situation, then you'll find a lot to like here. Friendly fire is enabled, which means several headaches can be avoided by just allowing replicants to shoot each other. The map helpfully points out every adversary, so you've got ample opportunity to prepare for whatever's ahead. Also, even if it's a fairly rare occurrence, you can score a lot of bonus points by destroying multiple enemies with a single rocket. Oh, and hey, bring a friend if you have one. Cooperative play is encouraged and damn awesome. 

Instead of trying - and most likely failing - to deliver a straight port, Hot-B created what's essentially an Arrange mode. The biggest distinction is the emphasis on can't in replicant. Artificial soldiers can't switch which hand is firing their side arms. You'll have a much easier time avoiding their bullets, especially when pressed against walls. Those huge guys that carry flamethrowers can't fire diagonally, giving you additional methods for taking them down. 

One of the other big differences is the resources available to the player. In the arcades, lives were as rare and precious as your own. This was changed dramatically. Now, depending on the difficulty, you can bring the fight to Doctor K's establishment with as few as 4 or as many as 10 lives. Additional lives are doled out at a very generous rate. It's also not particularly difficult to stock up on screen-clearing super bombs. Hang onto them for long enough and those satellites with their annoying lasers won't be any trouble whatsoever. However, I must avail upon you to refrain from throwing body after body away. When the mission is successfully completed, any spare lives and ammunition are added to the score. Even if it's "just points", it's a real incentive to play just as skillfully and strategically as you would back when extra lives were improbable to come by. 

If you're seeking an additional challenge, or just want to have an extra enjoyable time, then go to the option menu and set the starting ammunition to zero. Crack Down's home port hands players 10,000 points whenever they finish a stage without firing a weapon. Relying almost entirely on quick-thinking and martial arts to survive is... actually kind of astonishing. This is what makes Arrange mode such a treat to play. Instead of merely getting into position to take enemies out from afar, you can devote all your maneuverability to squiggling between them and their bullets. Sliding on and off of walls to evade detection or destruction is really satisfying. 

I'm not 100% sure what killed me here, but I don't like it.

The 16 stages are all pretty unique, and their routes can change depending on what difficulty you're playing on. Some also feature cool mechanics like replicant-shattering doors. The few instances of moving platforms though... I would've been quite all right without them. Pits tend to be slightly too large, rather annoying in such an intricate and finesse-driven game. Megamera, as well as any other flying enemy, can also be really obnoxious. Getting sniped by their laser while riding a conveyor belt is some nonsense. I advise breaking the "no-shooting" rule to keep them out of the air. Other than those nuisances, each stage tends to be really inventive and replayable. 

All in all, Crack Down is damn good. There's some less-than-perfect finickiness, particularly when it involves pits or using melee on enemies that are too close, but it doesn't take that long to adjust. Hot-B's decision to give the console port its own identity was a brilliant one. The changes to enemy behavior and scoring make for a more accessible game. You've got plenty of room to make mistakes, as well as plenty of incentives to aim higher. 

Sega Genesis Look - Shining in the Darkness

Four hours of sleep. Eyes, nose, and lungs thoroughly wracked by allergies. I'm in peak condition for game-review writing. Shining in the Darkness is a humble DRPG experience for your favorite 16-bit console. I won't call it the perfect introduction to the genre, because we're all individuals and perfection is just mediocrity that hasn't settled in yet. No, what gives this game its sauce is how it calmly and effortlessly communicates its expectations to the player, then gives them enough friction to make their eventual success all the sweeter. If your spirit is willing, and you don't mind a quirk or three, then you're sure to have a good time. 

... I have to point out that this one of those games that's harder to write about than it is to play. My past however many minutes have been spent trying to cleverly explain how this Climax Entertainment product blends the familiar with the unfamiliar to create something fresh, yet every single attempt has failed catastrophically. Have you ever played Dragon Quest? If so, then you should've heard the starting pistol and are already racing for the finish line. Everything that follows from here on out is a test. You don't have to memorize complex formulas or comply with absurd demands, but you will be expected to adapt.

Shining in the Darkness frontloads a lot of its friction. You'll explore the bulk of the Labyrinth's first floor without so much as a reasonable objective. "Rescue the Princess from Dark Sol? I'm a level 1 goon wearing scraps and swinging an oversized bread cutter. Where do I even- oh god. I'm already dying to snails." Not only are you expected to grind to survive; the game gives you ample opportunities to do so. The encounter rate isn't quite Sword of Vermilion but consider yourself lucky if only two of your last five steps led to battles. Bizarrely, those urges to climb walls and vomit onto the ceiling are kept in check thanks to some smart game design.

The constant fighting is counterbalanced by enemies being as squishy as warm tomatoes. If a monster takes more than two hits to kill, then either you're fighting a boss or are underequipped. Battles are snappy and to the point. You'll sail through most of them just holding down the C button. I mean, you'll have to, because it's not as if the hero can do anything besides attack. This doesn't really change even after he recruits his friends Milo and Pyra. Due to the tiny inventory space, you'll be relying on the Cleric (and Mage to a lesser extent) for their healing prowess. The joys of wasting groups of foes with powerful spells quickly dissipates when you can't explore half a dungeon floor before Pyra is completely tapped out. The only time I used Milo's offensive spells is for extremely specific circumstances. Give him an axe, her a whip, and let the C button handle 80% of whatever ambushes the party. 

If an enemy drops down from above, scuttles in from the side, or comes out of the ground, then you're about to face a boss. Since facing a group of adventurers wouldn't be fair, bosses tend to have perks like an extremely high critical hit rate and a chance of acting twice in one round. Shining in the Darkness has a level of difficulty that fluctuates wildly depending on where you're at in the game. Kaiser Krab is a tough hurdle for starting heroes but becomes significantly less threatening shortly afterwards. Oh, yes indeed, boss refights are a common occurrence. This is again balanced out by them being slightly more durable than a frozen tomato. Also, the hold C strategy is adjusted to "Cast Quick, cast Boost on the hero, and then Heal when necessary." Just because it's a boss doesn't mean you can afford to go all out. What happens when you walk a few steps only to bump into them again? 

Still, the most lackadaisical strategy remains effective for nearly half the game's runtime. Before you can challenge the Labyrinth's upper floors, you must complete four trials. Monsters, barring a few exceptions, aren't going to be causing much stress with the 1-2 damage they dish out per turn. Your attention will instead be focused on navigating these trials and the obstacles contained within. Basically, each floor is a test of endurance. Escaping to the safety of town is as painless as an Egress spell - or as painful as an entire party wipe - but either way you have countless chances to dust yourself off and try again. 

This game understands the importance of landmarking, but in a lot of cases all that means is that there's an occasional hall of torches or a puddle. Still, unlike a LOT of the games that inspired it, the floors never get too mazelike. There's a path. It might be fraught with dead-ends or pitfalls, but there's a path. Pyra has a cheap View spell for getting a small glimpse of the current floor's layout. If you want something more convenient, than break out the graph paper or look up the maps online. As with any smart DRPG, each floor is uniform in size (30 x 30). View also gives the party's coordinates, which is another boon for cartographers. 

Once the trials are completed and you enter the Labyrinth's second floor; that's when the real DRPG experience begins. If you bump into a group of Grim Reapers and one of them lays Milo to rest with a Desoul, then that's just how it goes. The Hero got ambushed and beheaded? Tough luck. Those crowds of monsters that could only hope to plink away at the party are now hitting hard enough to kill. Getting from the end of the second floor to the end of the third floor is especially brutal. There aren't any clever tricks here, just long-winded passages and fiends that are nasty enough to ruin anyone's day. 

It might sound like a lot but believe me when I say that it gets easier every time. This game dances awfully close, but its friction never becomes frustration. Those level-ups you accumulate during failed attempts at a floor are a massive help. Also, having a goal helps to hide the grind. You'll no doubt need the levels to survive the hardest battles. The only difference is that you're moving with purpose and not just bouncing against the walls. Oh, and it's worth repeating that the average monster is still dying in 1 or 2 hits. They might be tomato cannons, but they're still tomatoes... or something. Trying to write this a review a piece at a time over the past few days hasn't been working for me.

In spite of the genre having grown exponentially over the past number of years, I think there's still plenty of reason to give this classic a playthrough. Shining in the Darkness sits in the juicy middle between fluffy adventure and unforgiving dungeon crawl. The setbacks that you'll suffer are all part of the game, yet still within reason. This isn't old school Wizardry where you have to swap floppies to keep from losing an entire party to permadeath, nor is it new school Etrian Odyssey where some FOE unleashes all 542 flavors of whoopass on your crew. 

Give it a go.