Super Nintendo Look - Space Megaforce

For as long as I've breathed Central Florida's miserable air, I've claimed that playing shmups is like undertaking the 36 Chambers of Shaolin. Only once the mightiest challenges are overcome can one discover Zen, finding their place among the stars (and neon-colored kill-globules). Well, probably, I can't remember exactly what was said. Sometimes I wonder if these words just spring from my fingertips in a vain effort to connect with the hardcore STG community- wait! It was The Zone, not Zen! No idea how those two got mixed up. You see, The Zone is great because it doesn't require years of training or thrusting hands into hot coals, it is a feeling that erupts from within the soul and envelops both player and game. You've no doubt experienced it many times before, where your every move is perfect, and the dance with death turns from a slow waltz to the steamiest bump & grind. Part of the reason I never got good at shmups was because I was always chasing that zone high. If I'm Earth's last hope at stopping an alien invasion, then that's just how I'm going to play. That means don't practice, ignore the strategies, and hope for the best. It goes without saying that my biggest successes are often flukes, like a Dodonpachi 1-ALL that I stumbled into eons back. That's The Zone working as intended; turning zeroes into heroes for a brief moment.

Super Aleste, or Space MegaForce if you prefer the NA title, is one shmup that I'm still struggling to connect with. It has an odd rhythm to it, a wavelength that's almost hostile to someone who treats shmups as just another whim. On the surface, this Super Famicom blaster is exponentially more approachable than the genre often allows. Extends are common, any contact isn't instant death as long as the ship is sufficiently powered up, and a number of weapons eliminate enemy bullets. However, for reasons that only make sense to sickos, I attempted to jump straight to the aptly named "Hyper" and "Insane" difficulties. They don't lead to the Zone. There is only pain, torment, suffering, yadda yadda and so on. 

So, let's for now move back to the beginning: the default level of difficulty. Don't worry about getting a "lesser" experience here. You're not getting locked out of any content for starting on Easy. Anyway, grab a comfy chair, because this is going to be a fairly long ride. Most of the 12 areas are six-minute-long epics that are packed to bursting with ideas, all of them great. Compile, whose track record is already impeccable, really outdid themselves here. Alongside the astonishing variety of locales to shoot through is a huge selection of weapons, all with alternate firing modes. Don't bother looking for slowdown either, as this is one of like... two (?) Super Famicom shmups that never so much as coughs when the screen becomes flooded with intensity. It's easy to see why Space MegaForce is highly regarded.

Still, with eight weapons to choose from, I imagine there's someone who'll be overcome with decision paralysis. New weapons are flying in every few seconds, tempting anyone who hasn't yet adjusted to their newfound toy. If it's any help, I tend to value weapons that provide both offense and defense. The default cannon can spit bullets in any number of angles, but it doesn't have any bullet-canceling properties. Weapon 3 provides orbiting spheres that catch enemy fire. It's certainly useful, but players hoping to tackle the harder settings will need something more specialized. The charged shot (#6) fires up to four screen-clearing lasers, provided one lives long enough to charge it. I suppose it isn't too surprising that the most powerful weapon has the highest learning curve. If you can master it, then perhaps you can conquer the Hyper & Insane difficulties.

The first few areas set the stage for what's to come. Super Aleste is uniquely claustrophobic. Walls are everywhere, creating a sense of containment akin to the likes of R-Type. However, what sets this apart is that touching a wall is never death. Press against it all you like, get a feel for its surface, adjust to how the ship reacts. It's a rare boon, so enjoy it while you can. Practice using weapons that can get into all those nooks and crannies, because Compile will fit enemies wherever they please. Popcorn ships, particularly those that fly in a line formation, tend to ignore walls. Try to eliminate their source as soon as possible. Area 2, besides being a Mode 7 showcase, is known for introducing one of the other scenarios by which it challenges players. As your ship gets close to the ship, its turrets attack from multiple angles, and they don't fire mere bullets either. Pick a direction or location, and danger is guaranteed to spew forth from it. It won't be long before the realization takes hold that memorization is necessity for survival.

Area 5 is when the walls start closing in, and players are forced to contend with unreasonable circumstances. It also provides ample evidence that the smallest enemy can create the most trouble. Little rolling guys take a surprising amount of damage, rain down from above, and pelt the screen with projectiles. They're always where you don't want them to be, and they have friends. Navigating rooms full of death will dispel any illusions that the Easy setting is actually... well... easy. This game is pretty generous with the screen-clearing bombs, and players are still likely to exhaust most of their stock. There's hardly a second of downtime in these six-minute epics. Like I said, each stage is packed to bursting with ideas, and several of them are designed to induce terror.

Just because you can't crash into walls doesn't mean you can't get crushed by them.

I won't lie. On my "Normal" difficulty playthrough, I spent parts of areas 8 & 10 huddled into a corner and hoping for a microsecond's respite. Both my momentum and mojo had evaporated. What makes Area 8 such a nightmare is that the walls tend to explode when shot. This causes ship-shredding shrapnel to fly every which way. This is Compile teaching players, in its own special way, that choosing the wrong weapon might as well be pressing the self-destruct button. Seriously though, why they do wait until someone is 3/4ths of the way through their game before saying "This is how you're supposed to play it."? Revamping one's entire strategy during a pitched battle isn't always feasible. New weapons are always flying in. If it's something you don't need, then it's just another object to dodge. Throw it on the pile with the lasers, shrapnel, enemies flying in from multiple angles, etc. This is likely one of the reasons why I struggle to connect with the game on a deeper level. It's hard to get into the flow when a bad decision causes potentially irreparable damage. Pick up the wrong weapon, lose a ship, and suddenly you're in a hell that not even the tallest ladder could help you climb out of.

Besides the three bonus areas, boss battles might be the closest Super Aleste gets to giving players a break. They're all clever, intense, and short. The final boss in particular had me thinking that the game was something of a tribute to Gradius. I will say however that these vultures will pick apart weakened ships. Without the weaponry to block its endless triangles, the Area 8 boss becomes quite grueling. A few bombs are usually enough to outright erase bosses, but there's another factor to consider. Lives are indicated by gold ships or blue ships. Lose a gold ship and you respawn right where you left off. Blue ships, however, are tossed back to the last checkpoint. The only way to turn a ship from blue to gold is by shooting a green weapon power-up until it becomes floating orbs of light. That's an awfully specific scenario since it hinges on the player being in a good enough condition to give up their choice of weapon. Naturally, anyone struggling is going to be stuck with a (small) squadron of blue ships, potentially eliminating any hope of bombing through the next big encounter. This loss of momentum all but guarantees a Game Over in the immediate future.

If it ever sounds like I'm overselling just how hard this game can get, then let me remind you that there are five levels of difficulty. Aside from the default / lowest setting, they're all designed to break players down until they're nothing more than a molecule. Only after they've built themselves back up and regained a semblance of confidence can they move onto the next setting, and that's when the cycle repeats. Hard starts showing its claws as early as Area 2. The few remaining survivors are then treated to Hyper & Insane: the duplex in revenge bullets central. It's not enough that every destroyed enemy can leave behind a bullet. Imagine several bullets flying out of what was once a wall. Picture a large ship releasing a spiral of pain after exploding. It's a lot to deal with, likely too much for anyone who hasn't already mastered the charged shot and its huge bullet-erasing lasers. 

Space Megaforce has a depth to it that only the world's greatest players may ever see the bottom of, and that's impressive as hell. Somehow, in-between multiple other games on other platforms, Compile dropped one of the best shmups the Super Nintendo has ever seen. The sheer boldness and creativity found in every area is something special to behold. They threw everything at this game, and everything works. Be aware though that the consequences of a single mistake can set off a chain reaction; a comedy of errors. I never found my "Dodonpachi 1-ALL" moment. The only zone I ever found myself in was the one that turns heroes to zeroes.