Sega CD Look - Shining Force CD

After sleeping in for most of the day, as is my wont, I finally dragged my sad carcass out of bed. In the bathroom, while shaving the weeds that had taken root on this gruesome face, I accidentally knock over my toothbrush. Without fail, it landed brush first into a sea of hairs and Florida water. It was at this moment I stared into the mirror and mouthed out the words "Finally! Some goddamned fucking inspiration!" Though I'm unquestionably a subject deserving of endless criticism, I would rather distract myself by poking into the failings of others, especially when they're already well-documented. I'm a screwup who never learns from his mistakes, but that doesn't mean anyone else is allowed to be.

Back in ancient times, Sega was the first of several companies who tried to combat Nintendo's dominance over handheld gaming. Their hopes were binned - I mean pinned - on the Game Gear. More power! More colors! A backlight so you could actually see what's happening! That last point ended up being the handheld's undoing. It was the early 90s and LED lighting had just seen a major breakthrough, but it was already too late. Sega opted for a power-hungry fluorescent bulb, turning a handheld that could've gotten 30 or so hours of gametime out of the required six double AA batteries into one that lasted 3 to 5 hours. I'm sure Energizer and Duracell were thrilled by this battery-chugging behemoth. Everyone else... nah. 

I shouldn't have to tell you that developers had to make several concessions if they wanted to put games on the Game Gear.  If a game was too long and didn't allow for frequent passwords or the ability to save progress, then who's going to play it? Yeah, the player could just use the AC charger and sit hunched in a corner for hours, but let's be realistic here. Average people are going to be on the bus fuming because the system dying mid-game cost them a ton of progress. RPGs with save-anywhere options went a long way towards mitigating the issue. For some genres, this problem isn't so easily resolved. Any fan of Sonic! Software Planning's Shining Force series has probably experienced the pain of a freak outage ruining a battle that they've spent 30 minutes trying to complete. Knowing this, the developers of Shining Force Gaiden opted for short skirmishes with a low TUFE. 

TUFE stands for "Time Until First Encounter". If you've never heard this in Shining Force communities, it's because I made it up a minute ago. Basically, it's a measure of how long it takes the player to make contact with an enemy in a particular battle. Battles that take place on huge maps with large tracts of deserts and hills will have a higher TUFE than in the basement of some warlord's lair. Since the Gaiden games are on a platform with dreadful battery life, TUFE is very low. Shining Force CD is a remake of the first two handheld entries plus a bonus chapter, but the developers didn't implement any drastic changes to the map structure or pacing. In other words, if you're looking to try the series, but aren't quite ready to commit to the Genesis & Saturn entries, then this duology is worth checking out.

For anyone out there who might be wondering, yes, I'm familiar with this SRPG series. Let's take the wayback machine to the early 90s. Though the first Shining Force had caught my interest, strategy games were not really something I could get into. Warsong aka Langrisser was my first experience, and it was not a good one. Quality game, but its decision to put newcomers on the backfoot with an unwinnable first battle was a questionable one. Also, since both armies acted when combat was initiated, I always felt like I was doing poorly when some of my guys got killed in the scuffle. 

Much like Shining in the Darkness, Shining Force opts for the Dragon Quest approach. Experience is retained even when the main character falls and the battle is lost. If the player feels like they're struggling, they can restart battles with the Egress spell and get some more training in. More personally, I think I just really like SRPG battle systems with instant gratification and delayed consequences. When I choose to attack the enemy, I want to feel like I'm making the right decision... at least for the moment. Now, obviously I'll kick myself a little bit later when the character I just moved is double-teamed by a couple of monsters and wiped out, but I took a chance and learned why it was a mistake. I won't claim that this is the ideal way to design strategy games, but I think it's a good hook for drawing in newbies. They won't get stuck in decision-paralysis, feeling like every move is a bad idea. 

Eventually, I start putting together what works and what doesn't. My moves become more sensible, and I start making use of each unit's strengths. For example, a flying character ignores terrain, allowing them to cover more ground in less turns. However, ignoring terrain means ignoring the "Land Effect" bonus, which can increase defense by as much as 30%. Also, winged creatures boast higher evasion but are more susceptible to ranged weapons, meaning I have to be selective about when and who I attack. The idea is that I learn as I go, and the game never halts unless my tactics are completely idiotic. Besides, worst comes to worst, grinding a few extra levels can make a difference... except the subject of today's discussion is Shining Force CD.

Right, I suppose now's the time I talk about what sets this entry apart. Besides the smaller-scale and faster-paced battles, one of the most notable changes is how level-ups are implemented. Generally, levels 1-10 provide the largest stat-boosts, with levels 11-20 being slightly diminished. 21 and beyond? The chances that a character will receive any gains besides a +1 to their name are exponentially reduced. I can't say that there's no chance, because there absolutely is, it's just not feasible for someone who just wants to see this game's three stories to their conclusion. 

Less effective leveling / grinding has the knock-on effect of further limiting the player's "Force" options. The Force consists of up to 12 characters, with a handful left on the bench. While other installments are no stranger to balance issues, with several units landing somewhere between superfluous and useless, Shining Force CD's "soft-cap" ensures that players can't afford to stick with whomever they like. The Force has to be optimized. Weak links aren't allowed. This also means a larger emphasis is placed on tactics, especially if the player intends to tackle the harder difficulties. I mean, that's closer to a good thing, but what got me into this series in the first place was having more RPG features, not less.

Battles feature a solid variety of scenarios and monsters to contend with. I have to again praise how quickly these battles develop. There's always a reason to keep moving, a purpose to each location, and a strategy besides "find the leader and kill them". Book 2 is geared even more towards instant action. Several battles start with both sides within coughing distance of one another. This also means it takes less time for players to reach the point when their fortunes turned, and the battle ended in failure. It makes Shining Force 1 almost frivolous. So much of that game feels wasted leading troops around without so much as a goblin to stab.

It's not all good though. A couple of the climatic encounters can end up feeling overwhelming or gimmicky. Iom, the final boss of Book 2, has a ludicrous amount of defense. His demon breath can easily cleave 30 HP from anyone caught in its 13-square area. Even the hardiest heroes aren't going to have much more than 60 HP. This leads to a finale where everyone is thrown at Iom, single file, until the big jerk is defeated. It's made extra annoying by an endless supply of minions that have their own defense-ignoring AOEs. It's my pick for worst battle in the game. Well, maybe second worst if I had any inclination to tackle the secret battle. Fighting Iom again, plus every other boss (including the handful exclusive to Book 3) just doesn't sound like much fun. I enjoyed it in Shining Force 2, but that game has several godlike characters with incredible stats.

Altogether, I like Shining Force CD's take on the series. It's all fundamental, back-to-basic, no-nonsense game design. Maps are appropriately designed, so the 50 battles across the first three books don't require an absurd time investment to complete. You'll definitely need a guide though. Most of the secret items and every hidden character is in an unmarked location, and you can't go back to previous battles if you missed anything. But hey. It's a small price to pay for a good SRPG. 

The flashing screen effects are pretty obnoxious too. I wonder if the Mega Drive Mini 2 version fixes them.

Xbox Series Look - Warriors: Abyss

Over a decade grinding away in the professional critic sphere has broken my brain like a cheap vase. Nowadays, the instant I write about a game, it's placed in the "finished" cupboard and locked away for a very long time, possibly forever. I operate on the logic that since there are so many games left to review; it would be unproductive to continue playing something when I've already shared my thoughts on it with the world. When you're caught in a bear trap, sometimes you have to gnaw off a limb to escape... or something. Seriously, if I don't talk about Warriors: Abyss right this instant, it'll drain another 20 to 30 hours of my life like it was vacuuming dust off of a cheap vase.

The plot of the game is quite simple. You died, went to Hell, and a punk kid has tasked you with slaying Gouma. Gouma sits at the bottom of the Abyss, guarded by hundreds of thousands of slimy minions and some elite monsters. What follows is essentially Dynasty Warriors meets Vampire Survivors. Form an alliance of heroes from across the Tecmo-Koei universe, gather as much strength as possible in nearly 30 floors, create the ideal demon-hunting formation, and attempt to crush an evil that not even Hell wants to put up with. This roguelite is both absurdly complex and ridiculously simple. There are, let's just say, a ton of playable characters, all with their own move-sets, who learn new abilities by collecting enough emblems. When certain thresholds are met, then likeminded heroes will synergize, unlocking even more buffs that last until the end of a run. The potential combinations are too numerous for the average human to memorize. Thankfully, that punk kid (I think his name is Enma?) will gladly design an optimal formation if you ask him nicely. In-between runs, karma can be spent to obtain more characters or give them permanent boosts. This is the kind of game that prides itself on stealing time until none remains.

The moment-to-moment gameplay can be summed up as "press attack buttons while avoiding anything purple". It's as I said, ridiculously simple. What I didn't say is that it's easy. Enemies hit hard and fill the screen with violet death. Depending on the severity of the attack, the player-character can expect to lose anywhere from 10% to 66% of their health. Getting stunned or knocked down will also halt their momentum, allowing adversity to create more chaos. At the end of each area is a boss. Defeating them is just a matter of dodging and countering their attacks, then laying into them with summons when the opportunities arise. Warriors: Abyss is generally good at teaching the important mechanics and streamlining the details, leaving you to focus on the slaughter. 

Since this game utilizes both temporary and permanent upgrades, it makes shaking free from its icy grasp all the more difficult. During a run, your chosen hero's power is represented by a large number, and seeing it grow feels just as good as chugging serotonin. Warriors: Abyss constantly incentivizes experimentation via randomized recruits, and their synergies ensure that practically any formation will be strong enough to beat Gouma. Also, depending on whether or not they're "chosen", heroes might be able to earn extra karma during a run. Though you might start out just playing favorites, it won't be long until you're trying out the entire roster and getting all sorts of interesting results from the formations that are built around them. These endless possibilities are fun to play around with and help to make up for the mundanely structured campaign. I don't even mind that the same areas and bosses appear in every run, at least not anymore. Perhaps the repetition was a problem at one point, but now all I think about is how quickly my build is going to decimate everything it comes in contact with. 

Apparently, the ultimate goal is to defeat Ruinous Gouma, the true last boss. In order to reach this fiend to end all fiends, players must clear Traversal Levels 1 through 5. Higher levels mean tougher foes and better rewards. Provided you've unlocked everyone and gotten a lot of practice in, clearing the first five levels isn't going to be a huge ordeal. Traversal Level 6 however... that level is designed specifically for the maniacs who have transcended all of their best characters and maxed out cumulative levels for the best possible starting stats.

I didn't believe it myself at first. Getting through Level 6 with a far-from-optimal character is tough, but nowhere near insurmountable. It wasn't until the final bosses that I realized "Oh. I need to grind like hell to get past this, don't I?" It's one thing to be taken from full health to death in a few hits, but Gouma and the legendary warriors that precede it go a step further by being absolute units. My character & formation must've been severely underpowered, because the most they could was tickle damage. Somehow, I managed to defeat them, and my perseverance was rewarded with a visit from Ruinous Gouma.

Words can't even begin to describe how poorly my attempt at the true last boss went. First off, I'm astonished that somehow the past 25 or so hours of Warriors: Abyss still wasn't enough to prepare me for its Cave shmup of a finale. While hundreds of demonic soldiers are capable of peppering the screen with danger, it's not hard at all to stop them before they strike. Ruinous Gouma though... that bastard does whatever it wants and there's nothing I can do except dodge. Naturally, the scant moments I had to land some hits meant nothing. I was using Rachel at the time, and her machine gun might as well have been firing scented cotton balls. Even her halberd was hitting as hard as soap bubbles.

While no attempt at Ruinous Gouma is ever truly a failure, spending an hour and a half on a run only to get crushed is awfully harsh. I'll accept partial blame for not realizing I was in over my head when the bosses prior to the finale were all tanked up. Plus, I mean, it's the maniac setting. Taking on the ultimate challenge is going to stretch all things "fair & balanced" to their breaking point. Still, it would've been nice if there was a way to practice the true last boss and learn his patterns. It probably won't matter until I build a character and/or a formation capable of actually scratching them, so... meh. 

It's around this time that the realization struck. If I don't give myself an out, I'll sink even more sleepless nights in this monstrously addictive game. Warriors: Abyss is the kind of roguelite that appeals to me. It combines multiple things I love (The grind, Omega Force, random synergies, etc.) to create a time devourer that not even Serge and his friends could stop. The satisfying gameplay loop and easy-to-engage-with design make repeatedly slaying a thousand or so baddies a minute even more compelling than it sounds.

Still, I've got to move on. There are so many games that need reviewing.

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.