Turbografx-16 Look - Magical Chase

Once again, predictable as always, I'm trapped beneath the blinding light of a blank screen. My eyes dart in every direction, hoping to settle upon a sight that isn't the definition of futility. Something has to be typed out. "If it sucks, it sucks." is the only encouragement I can offer myself. The days of a finished review meaning anything besides a miniscule sense of accomplishment are so far gone that they probably never existed. Nevertheless, there are few things uglier than total whiteness. It reminds me of the walls I'd stare at while waiting for someone to answer the door and take pizzas out of my hands. Oh, and that cursor! The way it sits in the corner just blinking away. I feel sick.

Today's reason for the turmoil is none other than Magical Chase. It's a game I keep wanting to attach an extremely unnecessary level of gravitas to, probably because the average copy goes for as much as $5,000. That might not sound like much in an age when money launderers seal Super Mario Bros. & Duck Hunt in plastic coffins and sell them to each other for millions, but... I've already given up on wherever I was going with this line. Point is that I can't look at Quest's lone shootemup without thinking it deserves a review that actually appreciates its value. My qualifications are owning a Coregrafx Mini and touching a Hucard once. Who am I to have opinions on a platform I've never truly invested in? Goddammit. The years spent in the retro community are taking their toll. I could cover a thousand games a year and still feel like I'm worth less than a CRT. Yet, the story continues, because it must.

So, here I sit, dead-center in the abominable maze, hoping for a single thought that my meager words can express. Let's try something basic: How do I feel while playing Magical Chase? Well, I guess I feel good. There is an upswell of pleasant feelings when I destroy the final boss. When it's just me and the game, things make sense. Maybe not life, but definitely some things. Much respect to Quest. They crafted a charming little adventure where not a single minute goes to waste. My one serious complaint, which I'll get out of the way right now, is that Ripple is a rather large target. Evading the many dangers that occupy Ripple's world is a little harder than it should be. Then again, having a shmup protag with a generous health meter and a small hurtbox would be overkill I suppose.

What you're looking at is a direct quote from Gley Lancer. It refers to the "Reverse" weapon-system. As you might recall, prior to starting the game, players choose a weapon-system that suits their style of play. Reverse is a shmup concept that I've struggled with since back when I played MUSHA for the first time in 1991. The main reason I wanted to do a Magical Chase write-up is because Ripple has a couple "movers" of her own called Star Maidens. The gist of it is that players can manipulate Topsy & Turvy to protect the heroine. Tapping button I when they're in a desired position will lock them in place. Players can set the Stars in front of Ripple to catch the majority of incoming bullets. Taking the first couple seconds out of every stage to set this up prevents a lot of headaches, but one still has to be vigilant. Enemies attack from every possible angle. 

While the Star Maidens can be directed to fire straight ahead, I believe that they're most effective in their alternate firing mode. This of course, means they'll shoot in the opposite direction that Ripple is moving. No doubt there are a ton of veterans who are already well-adapted to this style of weaponry. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, especially since it requires a higher level of patience and awareness. Combining offensive actions with defensive movements is really clever. The dichotomy adds complexity to each encounter. However, my divided attention means that messing up and eating a bullet is even easier. At least Ripple is built much heartier than the average prototype ship. Being able to devour bullets actually incentives me to learn how Topsy & Turvy work. Huh. I just realized something. If I shorten their names, they become T & T, or TNT. Is this a Working Designs joke that I just stumbled into? Ewwww.

What Magical Chase brings to the table is generosity. In the last 1CC playthrough I did, which wasn't more than a day ago, I must've screwed up a hundred times. Since healing items are usually easy to find or purchase, all those screw-ups were forgiven. Once I reached the final stage, I was able to lock-in and... screw-up an additional dozen times. This game gives its players a lot of room to grow, while avoiding the pitfalls of being too easy. Though, you may as well forget the first difficulty setting doesn't exist. Anyone who isn't playing on Bumpy or Rough isn't seeing anything past the third stage.

Still, even those who struggle with dodging will survive, as long as they're wise with money. Much like other shmups that feature shops, knowing what to buy makes a huge difference. Besides getting the coolest, most powerful weapon available, players would do well to upgrade TNT, Ripple's maximum health, and keep an elixir on standby. The best usable items (double-tap II) are the ones that replenish a couple hearts and provide a temporary damage buff. Keep a handful of both in Ripple's inventory and don't hold back when they're needed the most. 

The critters that accost Ripple come in various shapes, but their sizes stay relatively small. This aspect of Magical Chase gives it a more pronounced identity than the average cute 'em up. Mid-bosses & Bosses aren't gargantuan immobile creatures that take up half the screen. Oftentimes, they're little gremlins that fly around. Players can take advantage of this by continually positioning themselves just out of range. Later fights ramp up the intensity of attacks, ensuring that there's rarely a safe spot to sit in.

I don't think there's anything else to talk about. Magical Chase is quaint in all the right ways. All six of its stages, even the mid-boss-heavy finale, are sufficient and succinct. Its mechanics will require some practice to get a handle on. Fumbling the star maidens during a critical moment happens to everyone. Its lax attitude towards persistent screw-ups like me is really appreciated. When the game gets challenging, it does so in a manner that feels sensible. Give it at least one playthrough every couple of years, and maybe you'll get an extra 1% happiness in your life.

(Or you could play something like Cyber Core and lose happiness. It's your call.)