nintendocs: carefree (solez)
I was lucky, and extremely thankful, that I was granted my request for two extra days off last week. Nothing beats a four-day weekend, along with an opportunity to rest, quite comfortably, on your laurels. It's that experience, then, (or, at least, an element of that experience) that I want discuss today, because last Friday I had the chance to recomplete The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I'd collected every Medallion, defeated every boss, and shut down every dungeon; all that remained was to beat Ganondorf. 

Ocarina of Time, released in Christmas 1998, was an extremely difficult game to hunt down at the time. Indeed, it was so coveted that it remains one of the only Christmases where my parents couldn't secure the game I wanted: every shop was inundated by pre-orders and anxious relatives on call. It wasn't until April 1999 that I actually managed to get my hands on a copy, having seen an ad in the Evening Echo's pink pages. My dad and I drove to Ballincollig and paid £30 for a second-hand copy, and while the manual was well-thumbed and the cardboard box was slightly frayed, it was at least a copy -- and those were still elusive, four months on. 

Since that evening when my cousin Aidan played through the opening stages with me (we stopped on our way back from Ballincollig), I've completed the game around ten or eleven times: eight times on N64, once on GameCube, and twice on 3DS. It's no surprise, then, that every inch of the game is deeply embedded within my memory. I'm intimately familiar with every single secret, camera angle, and sound effect; I can even repeat the dialogue verbatim a lot of the time. This is why, I would argue, every book, game, or film is better the second and third time round. Once you have a greater understanding of the work and the parts you like the best, it becomes like an old, trusted friend. 

The strength of Ocarina of Time is probably not in its story, though I think its poignancy is underrated; the splitting of the timeline in Ocarina makes it an integral part of the whole saga, too. Its graphics were some of the best on the N64, the 3DS version is gorgeous, and the music is awe-inspiring, with a combination of updated tunes from A Link to the Past and melodies that would cement themselves in later Zelda games. It's not very challenging for experts but quite challenging for neophytes -- Bongo Bongo is genuinely intimidating the first time round -- and in terms of both longevity and replayability, it'll take a while to see everything Hyrule has to offer. 

But beyond that, there's something truly magical about Ocarina of Time; something that hasn't quite been matched by later Zelda games (except perhaps Breath of the Wild). It's in the way the sun rises and sets over Hyrule, setting the stage for either a heroic jaunt or an eerie adventure, depending on the time of day. It's in the bittersweet look in Princess Zelda's eyes at the end of the game, when she plays the ocarina and returns you to your own time. It's in those gloomy dungeons where you realize you're about to confront another Dead Hand, in the bizarre windmill paradox triggered by Hyrule's Guru-Guru, and, perhaps most of all, when Rauru asks you to take a look at your adult self. Beating Ganon/Ganondorf is another highlight too, as you prove that the Master Sword really does have the power to 'repel' evil. These are truly exceptional moments that inspire all sorts of memories and emotions for me (and a whole generation of Nintendo fans). 

If you've never played a Zelda game before, then this is the place to start. Order yourself a copy from Amazon or CeX and witness a game that influenced practically every 3D game that followed it. 




nintendocs: friendship (pikachu)
Just popping in to leave a few remarks on the Pokémon Sword and Shield controversy. I'm somewhat loath to even comment on it, for fear of fanning the flames, or giving the naysayers more copy than they deserve. But it's something I do feel strongly about.

For those of you who are you unaware, Pokémon Sword and Shield are released worldwide on Friday, November 15th. These are the latest entries in the series and they represent the 8th Generation of Pokémon, bringing the grand total of creatures up to something in the vicinity of 1000. This might seem like overkill for those of you who were raised, like myself, on 150 different pocket monsters, but it's no cause for alarm: they don't add too many each time, and remember that these games were originally conceived in 1994. It's only logical that the number and variety of Pokémon should have increased since then. And, aside from the Pokémon themselves, the overall mechanics and balance of the games have steadily improved, making them faster-paced and less lop-sided than the earlier titles (even if they are also brilliant games). Other notable features in the new games include the ability to use Dynamax Pokémon - gigantic versions of your Pokémon, used to take part in supersized battles - and more customisation options for your trainer's appearance and apparel. The region in Sword and Shield, Galar, is also loosely based on the UK, meaning that the topography ranges from rural hamlets to industrial-sized cities.

This all sounds fun and appealing to me. However, lately, problems have arose with regards to The Pokémon Company's decision NOT to make all 1000+ creatures catchable in Sword and Shield; this is due to the fact that, with so many Pokémon in existence, it has become difficult to include and balance them all. Even the prospect of spreading 1000+ Pokémon across the world map, without littering new creatures every few steps, must be quite daunting, I would think. The Pokémon Company have also cited the graphical power required to animate so many Pokémon models as a reason for them to reduce the overall number, though I am less convinced by this: the Switch should be more than powerful enough to bring 1000 relatively simple characters to life, considering the console's success with running games like Breath of the Wild and Super Smash Bros: Ultimate. Regardless of their creators' motivation, however, the new Pokémon games will, for the first time, only play host to a fraction of "them all": around 40%, according to early reports.

This doesn't bother me in the slightest. Glancing at a leaked depiction at Sword and Shield's complete Pokédex (to Game Freak/The Pokémon Company's dismay, much of the game has been leaked online, though I have been careful not to spoil it for myself by staring for too long), several of my favourites have not been included. Each generation's Starter Pokémon, for example, will not be present, so that means no Blaziken, Blastoise, or Torterra (the Charmander line is the sole exception). Even my all-time favourite, Scizor, has been slighted. But ultimately: I'll form new favourites. Making do with the line-up that The Pokémon Company have devised this time will force me to invent new strategies and learn about new attacks; I can't be reliant on the same Pokémon I used in the past. And while I'm normally very slow to say things like "it's just a game," because I take gaming very seriously and consider it the highest art form, Pokémon IS just a game, after all, and the decision not to include Clefairy will hardly imbue me with any lasting trauma.

Although you might be surprised. While I'm firmly in the #ThankYouGameFreak camp, established online to build up hype and excitement for Sword and Shield, another group, also online, also hyper, has read the disappearance of 600 Pokémon as the result of some Thanos-like cull; a Nintendo-sponsored 'snap' that has tarnished these games before they've even been released. This other camp, which has been called #Dexit (due to the substantially reduced Pokédex in Sword and Shield... and also because of Brexit) have, I feel, viewed this issue far too harshly. These moaners will most likely still purchase the games, but they are going to complain about them up until then. This seems to me a wasted effort, far more egregious than the lack of effort they've accused The Pokémon Company of exhibiting while working on Sword and Shield.

I feel sorry for the programmers, writers, designers, and translators who've put so much work into a game only for it to be greeted with significant backlash. That's the main problem with the internet: it's given people who are only out to spread negativity and despair a voice that they didn't have before. Fine, if you don't want to play these games, then don't; but don't post underneath each attempt to market the game on social media with the same miserable comments. You're only ruining it for the rest of us. And for yourselves, too.
nintendocs: contemplative (kyle)
I hope that some of you have been enjoying my updates as of late, and have at least some interest in learning what game took the crown! And admittedly, I've cheated a little here as well, because I've nominated a pair of games as my favourites. That's because I like both of these games for the same reasons, and for the sad fact that we'll never get another in this short series. Another Code is closest, if you're interested in conducting some research.

1. Hotel Dusk: Room 215 and Last Window: The Secret of Cape West (DS)



I'm a big believer in the idea that games don't necessarily need to have an amazing story. Gameplay is foremost, and as the rest of this list has demonstrated, my favourite games are those with minimal plot, like in Mario, Zelda, or Pokémon. What's more exciting, arguably, is the potential for those games to generate or inspire stories: you make up your own narrative for what you're doing, essentially, when you set yourself challenges, or when you tell people about how you completed a level or defeated a boss. And the fact that the stories are, sometimes, wafer-thin in these games - like when Bowser kidnaps Peach, or Zelda, Link, and Ganon reappear - is what makes them so enduring and powerful: they're archetypal, fabular.

But I'm not against complex, layered stories in games, either. Nothing keeps you warm on a winter's night like a dense RPG will, with its complicated protagonists and multiple betrayals. And while Nintendo's pet projects predominantly feature characters like Link and Red, who are taciturn stand-ins for the player themselves, their handheld and console systems have hosted some of the more character-heavy series in recent memory: franchises like Ace Attorney and Xenoblade. So, despite my theory regarding story/character < gameplay, I am a literature graduate after all, and my number one choice is a game/s that sacrifices experimental gameplay for an unforgettable story and characters.

Hotel Dusk and Last Window are a pair of games featuring grumpy ex-cop Kyle Hyde. Following the (supposed) death of his crooked partner, Kyle hands in his badge, and takes up a day-job with Red Crown, using the sales gig as a way to scour the country on a hunch that his partner might still be out there, somewhere. Or, at least, the truth behind his apparent betrayal. Both games take place in the late 1970s/early 1980s, and the best thing about them is the atmosphere they evoke: in the first, it's the feeling of an outdated, slightly sleazy motel; in the second, it's the more urban setting of an apartment block set for demolition. This retro vibe is heightened with the game's beautiful use of rotoscoping, lending each character realism and personality.




Kyle Hyde, in particular, is one of the best characters ever created. He's that classic film noir-esque, pulpy detective, with sizzling dialogue, ranging from meditations on alcohol ("For a minute the world stops as I sit and stare into the glass. The taste of gin and vermouth lingers on my lips, the only kiss I've known in years") to old slang (a detective is a "gumshoe," a gun is a "piece") and comebacks. While he's cynical and stubborn, he does have a heart, and whether he's being altruistic or rude, he's always likeable and relatable. Chances are, if an NPC is boring you, then he's probably boring Kyle too, and he'll let them know that they are.

The format of both Hotel Dusk and Last Window requires you to hold the DS on its side - vertically, and like an inspector's notebook. Gameplay is divided into two sections: one, where you navigate the hotel and perform point-and-click manoeuvres with the touch screen; and two, where Kyle asks the questions on the left, and the NPC/witness reacts on the right. You're presented with different questions to ask, some of which will bring you closer to the information you seek, and some of which will annoy the person you're interviewing, causing them to clam up. In a couple of situations, your interrogations can even draw the attention of the hotel owner/landlord, who will admonish you for harassing the guests/tenants, earning you a GAME OVER screen. The game is relatively easy, however, and while the mystery is fun to uncover, it's mostly linear, and you're rarely punished too severely for pursuing the wrong line of questioning.

As should be evident by now, Hotel Dusk and Last Window are slow-paced, methodical games, and not exactly action-packed. And because of that, they're not for everyone: there's no shooting, swordfighting, or platforming here. But they truly are magnificent, gorgeous experiences. The graphics, as previously stated, add a level of detail and vibrancy to every single character, meaning that the lengthy conversations are a pleasure to read. The music is phenomenal, channelling the 70s and 80s with its synthy elevator music and stylish jazz. The gameplay, while not too innovative for the most part, does toy with the DS's additional features: at one point, in order to issue CPR to a character, you have to fold the two halves of the DS together, bringing their faces into contact. The main reason I love these games are due to the detail and tone, though. Cing, the now-defunct developers, don't shy away from presenting us with the kind of details that, like in Shenmue, might be perceived as mundane: eating dinner, or having a drink at the bar. But the love and care with which these scenes are rendered, and the attention paid to developing the characters involved in these scenes, is awe-inspiring.

I've played through both games numerous times, and I plan to play through them both again - even though I know how they end. The only books I've read as often are those by Faulkner or Ian Fleming. Both games are almost equal in my estimation; Hotel Dusk just clinches it, I think, with better one-liners for Kyle and a more urgent mystery. But either way, whichever one you can find, grab it with both hands and savour every single moment spent in L.A. with Kyle Hyde. Just like that gin and vermouth he described above - because as with most drinks, Hotel and Window only get better with age.
nintendocs: gaming (Default)
I hope the handful of people that read this have been looking forward to the final entries on my list. As I've been surveying my collection to decide on the definitive order of these last few titles, I've also been playing Super Mario Odyssey, almost to completion (only 200 Moons or so left), and that may well make the next incarnation of my Top Ten list, since I'm enjoying it so much. It, along with other games, like Pokémon Red/Blue and Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater, deserves an honourable mention. But unfortunately, only four amazing games have survived the qualifying rounds to make it this far. Here are the Elite Four (potentially five, as you'll see).

4. The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker (GC + Wii U)




Granted, Wind Waker has its problems, which will probably only be exacerbated in your mind when you've played the streamlined HD version. For one thing, there are far too few dungeons (at least two places where it's hard to ignore their absence), and the Triforce quest at the end largely equates to filler, especially when you have to raise the funds to pay off the spandex-wearing Tingle brothers. This latter problem is somewhat resolved in the HD version, where the Triforce mission is significantly shortened. I'll also admit that, when the glossy Gamecube Zelda demo made its debut at Spaceworld 2000, I couldn't understand the change in direction prior to Wind Waker's release in 2003: the shiny hi-res graphics seemed to have devolved into a grainy cartoon. But despite these problems and my initial reservations, I loved, and love, the finished product: Wind Waker is a masterpiece, and fans' appreciation for it has only increased with time. Possibly the best moment (my favourite, anyway) in gaming is when you're racing from Outset to Windfall in the midst of a wild storm, dodging cyclones and hearing the music double in intensity as it gets mixed with Ganon's Theme. I vividly remember the Friday afternoon when I came home from secondary school and my mother presented it to me as an early surprise - I flew through my homework and set sail. What an adventure, and no other Zelda (bar perhaps Breath of the Wild), matches it for the thrill of exploration. Play it, and if you're one of the naysayers put off by its childish visuals, don't be. It's magical.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (N64, 3DS)



Now we venture into truly hallowed ground - uncharted territory where only classic titles may take their place. Today, in 2019, we think about games being extremely popular upon release, and selling out quickly, necessitating pre-orders and so on. And at Christmas, say, some games or consoles sell out quickly, and there's a rush to pick up the few remaining copies. But any shortage or rush which you might have encountered in recent years is nothing compared to the literal race that took place in December 1998, when The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time descended from the heavens. My parents scoured the town (no Amazon then, remember) looking for copies, and most of the assistants they spoke to were being inundated with pleas for the last remaining Zelda cartridges. There was nothing that could be done - most people didn't get it that Christmas, due to first, its popularity and success, and second, Nintendo's long-standing tradition of increasing demand with a limited supply. It was April 1999 before I finally set my hands upon that fabled black and gold box: I saw an advertisement in the Evening Echo Free Ads, where a teenager in Ballincollig was selling his copy of Ocarina for 30 pounds. On the way home - and it was a gloriously sunny evening, like the best of memories - we stopped at my aunt's house and played it on my cousin's N64. Those initial, long-awaited moments of discovery, along with almost every square inch of that game, are burned into my brain. Wind Waker excels at the feeling of adventure; Twilight Princess has excellent dungeons; Majora's Mask has the best story and characters; and Breath of the Wild is the best-designed, most innovative Zelda. But Ocarina of Time... It's the turning point of the whole franchise, as you'll know if you've read the Hyrule Historia. It's challenging, beautiful, interesting, massive, and unforgettable. There's a reason why so many consider it the best game of all time.

2. Super Mario 64 (N64 + DS)



Okay, here's where we're really going to have to keep from crying. Super Mario 64 might not have been the first game to use 3D, but it was the first to use it so comprehensively and so successfully. The concept of the 3D floating camera, which we take for granted these days, and which still bamboozles Natalie, I think, was pioneered with Super Mario 64: a game that allowed you to go practically anywhere, however you liked, and to shoot the action from any angle. It's also the best launch game ever made, maybe the best Mario game ever made, surely the best platformer ever made, and the best example of a 2D series making a triumphant leap to 3D. It deserves all the accolades we can heap upon it, along with it being (almost!) my favourite game.

Right up until the night before I got my N64 - and Super Mario 64 was my first game - I wanted a PlayStation instead. I had been coached in the ways of the gamer by my cousin Aidan - that Nintendo-owning relation I mentioned above - and wanted to carve a separate path: if he had an N64, I'd get a PlayStation, and then we'd have the best of both worlds. But something caused me to change my mind... Instead of a PlayStation with Crash Bandicoot or Spyro, I convinced my parents to buy me an N64 instead, with a second-hand copy of Super Mario 64. I don't know what changed my mind. I didn't have access to the internet to research my purchase, and I hadn't yet come across any video gaming magazines. It was a decision based purely on instinct, and yet it was fate. Destiny. While I own a PlayStation console now, if I hadn't started my journey with Mario, I wouldn't be the person I am today. Super Mario 64 burrowed deep into my soul... I got it when I was in about 2nd Class, and it's almost at that point that my memory becomes clear... I made friends, I became good at English, I stopped hating school... Prior to that, I was into TV and reading, of course, but I can't remember much about school or my friends. I used to pretend to be sick quite a lot when I was around 6 or 7. It's almost as if this interest, this love, caused everything to fall into place. So I owe Super Mario 64 a lot - I even associate it with my parents, because I remember playing it with them, and even my sisters (extremely young at that age) have vague, old memories of my early N64 games.

And aside from how much it means to me, it's a phenomenal game, too. Superb music, vibrant worlds, challenging platforming - it's all here, and it has provided the model for hundreds and hundreds of games. Mario - voiced here by the lovable Charles Martinet - is upbeat, determined, heroic: he doesn't need to say anything more than "Wahoo!" or "Mamma-mia!" to inspire positivity and fun. It took me two months to earn all 120 Stars (not bad for my first time), and I've completed it multiple times since. I know it inside-out, and II'll likely be playing it until I'm old and grey.

1. The question is, now, what kind of mystical game could possibly outrank Super Mario 64? While it didn't make the top spot, Super Mario is the game that means the most to me, for the aforementioned reasons. But my favourite game... The one that I think is still probably in a league of its own...
nintendocs: gaming (Default)
7. Spider-Man - PS4



Spider-Man received (almost) widespread acclaim when it was released in September 2018; okay, there were some naysayers who didn't like the 'busywork' (Mssrs. Negative, if you like), but overall, it was a huge success and is one of the most popular games on the PS4. It's not hard to see why. Spider-Man's mechanics can be reduced to two gameplay components: traversal and combat. For much of the game, you're swinging through the city, paying attention to pendulum arcs and fire escapes; for perhaps the majority of the game, you're webbing up hoods and the Sinister Six. And even if Insomniac Games had failed in almost every other area, the fact that these two gameplay elements combine to deliver the ultimate Spider-Man experience earns it a place on this list. The feeling of BEING Spider-Man has little else that can compare, in gaming, and it looks and sounds gorgeous from start to finish. The fighting can get repetitive, and sometimes you'll wish for more variety in the objectives, but with such impressive gameplay and stellar characterisation, you'll always return. It's even fun to watch.


6. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild - Switch



It's a difficult match-up between Breath of the Wild and Super Mario Odyssey for the best game on the Nintendo Switch thus far. Both do their best to shake up the conventional formula of their respective franchises, particularly Zelda, and both of them are absolutely gigantic games - it takes months to scratch the surface of both titles. The winner, in this competition anyway, has to be Breath of the Wild, as it is probably the best-designed game ever made. In the first hour of play, you're gifted the handful of tools around which the whole world revolves, and which would be parcelled out one by one in a traditional Zelda game. From there, you're entirely on your own, creating your own goals, finding your own weapons, and exploring a vibrant, gorgeous world. There are some things that I miss, such as the lengthy elemental dungeons, and the story is slightly lacking; but the highlights of Breath of the Wild are some of Nintendo's finest moments. It's brimming with that Nintendo polish, charm, and innovation, and it puts other open-world games to shame. The best thing I can say about Breath of the Wild is that it will change the way you look at the world: you'll understand, and appreciate, geography, topography, and the laws of physics in ways you never thought possible. The box art is inspired by Friedrich's Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, which should give you a clue as to the abundant natural world you'll encounter on your journey.

5. Pokémon Omega Ruby and Pokémon Alpha Sapphire



There are times when I think I love Pokémon more than Nintendo or gaming itself. Somehow, the series manages to be both a marketing behemoth, that still generates millions of sales, and a pure, positive force in gaming, that emphasises teamwork, socialising, and friendly competition. The very first Pokémon game that I played was Sapphire, for the GBA, and in the summer of 2004 myself and my friend Alan (Ruby-owner) endeavoured to catch 'em all. I have some extremely fond memories of the 400+ hours I poured into my SP that year, and I've also completed the 3DS remake of Ruby, which is equally memorable. If you're a Pokémon greenhorn, or a veteran making a triumphant return to the series, the above titles are where I'd recommend you start. Hoenn is a lush, colourful landscape, with a tremendous range of Pokémon (the starters, and their evolutions, are particularly well-designed) and substantial post-game content. As with the other 3DS games, the pace of Omega and Alpha has been altered (it's been sped up), and this means that it's a smooth, cohesive experience that, in my humble opinion, surpasses X and Y, Sun and Moon, Black and White... It's outstanding.
nintendocs: gaming (Default)
There's not much explanation needed behind this new venture; it's your standard Top 10 list, with my favourite games chosen from the following consoles and handhelds: NES, SNES, N64, GC, GB, GBA, DS, 3DS, Wii, Wii U, PS4 and Switch. Two other disclaimers, as well: first, there are games that I own but haven't played enough of in order to be able to gush about them, so don't expect to see those here without further research; and second, while technical excellence and a game's objective brilliance has been factored in here, this is a list of my favourite games and not the best games of all time. I've done my utmost to rank them in order, too, as opposed to that "no particular order" business favoured by reality TV. And, most importantly, while I have chosen my top picks here, I'm a huge fan of every game I own - this isn't an easy list to make.

If you'd like me to post your list here, or to tell me about your favourite game, send your list/nomination to nintendocuments@gmail.com. I know that doesn't seem that enticing, given the small number of people who read this journal, but hey, maybe one day I'll make it big and you can lay claim to being one of my first 'followers'! Back before it became cool. Becomes cool. You know.

10. Tomb Raider Trilogy - PS4



A few years ago, back in 2015, I went through what I would describe as a "tough time": I'm always a bit anxious, but I became extra antsy at that point, having given up my job and becoming overwhelmed by the change in routine. If I'm given too much time to think, or, similarly, if I'm under too much stress, I start worrying - creating, even - health issues: it happened with my stomach in 2011, and my eyes in 2006. I went to a therapist for a few sessions and became more conscious of my difficulty in adapting to new routines and situations, and I think I can handle things better now, even if I'm still anxious and a slight hypochondriac. ANYWAY. All of which is to say that Tomb Raider was the game I played at the time to calm my nerves; ironically, it took shooting fanatics in the head with a bow to achieve some peace. It's an excellent, excellent game, with super fun mechanics, terrific visuals, and an empowered, realistic Lara Croft to play as. I recommend each entry in the trilogy, actually, and they're easy to find these days.


9. Pokémon Colosseum and Pokémon XD - GC



I'm grouping these two games together because the latter is essentially Colosseum 2, and, well, it's my list, so I'm quite entitled to nail my colours to any mast/s. These two games are potentially the most underrated Pokémon games, and sadly earn little more than an honourable mention whenever commentators review the Gamecube's output. That's in spite of the fact that they have unforgettable music, unique storylines, memorable locations, and a distinctive, futuristic style. Unlike the clean, innocent meadows of Hoenn, Kanto, and Johto, Orre is - as its name suggests - metallic, modern, and gritty. Instead of the colourful laneways and dojos that you use as battlegrounds in the GB/DS games, your (mature) protagonist starts Pokémon battles in the street, abandoned warehouses, and construction sites. This grittiness is dialled back somewhat in XD but the sequel boasts the same excellent graphics, music, and lengthy campaign. I love these games, and the sequel is extremely rare - keep an eye out for it.


8. Diddy Kong Racing - N64




Hard to imagine that Rare's Mario Kart-beater was kept so deeply under wraps back in 1997 that gaming magazines and websites didn't even know it was coming. It was announced, some footage was released, and it launched in about a month or two. Imagine a game doing the same today - I doubt developers would risk their new title disappearing under the radar. But Rare were amazing, back in the day, and aside from GoldenEye and Banjo-Kazooie, I think Diddy Kong Racing marks the very pinnacle of their achievements. It was teeth-gnashingly difficult the first time, especially in Adventure 2/Reverse Mode, and while I'm now able to beat it rather readily, it remains a mystery to my past self: there was a time I didn't know if I ever would, so soundly was I trounced by its bosses and Silver Coin Challenge. Unlike Mario Kart, there's a lot to do here if you're playing on your lonesome, and some fantastic music and colour to awe the senses. If you manage to pick up a second-hand N64, it's a game I'd recommend having.
nintendocs: gaming (Default)
It might alarm some of you to know that, despite owning the game since about 2009, I've never actually played Pikmin 2 to completion. I've begun it, several times: managed to get to the Perplexing Pool, and sunk a few hours into those submerged caverns. Now that I have spare time again (that is, not exactly free time, but time free of that phenomenon of scholar's guilt), I decided that it was about time I added the Wii version to my list of gaming conquests. I thoroughly enjoyed the first game, after all, and completed that in about a fortnight of early morning gaming sessions in secondary school.

What I hadn't anticipated - and what I must have glossed over, or not fully understood on my first attempts to complete the game - was how difficult Pikmin 2 was. Yes, that's past tense, retrospective: I did succeed, and can now look fondly at that box on my shelf, updating my Backloggery account to reflect my mastery of the game. Except that I can't really say I mastered it. The first Pikmin is a serene jaunt through four or five levels. There are some ESRB 'moments of threat or menace' to quicken the pulse and pose a challenge, but it's relatively easy to finish with the best possible ending. Played more than once, you can easily bolster your Pikmin army in a matter of days - enough to gather up the crucial ship parts long before Olimar's life support system deteriorates. This is, I would argue, why I prefer Pikmin: it's less refined than its successor in several ways, but it's relaxing, composed, and neatly presented.

Pikmin is a leisurely stroll, but it's positively self-indulgent and sybaritic when juxtaposed with its sequel, Pikmin 2. Fresh in my memory, and appreciated as a whole, the second game does warm you up, somewhat: the appropriately named Valley of Repose and Awakening Wood possess less overt dangers, and the early, gentler caves (a negative addition to the game, I might add - controversially) ease you into the new mechanics and new Pikmin types. However, by the Perplexing Pool and the Wistful Wilds, the game has eschewed any attempts to take it easy on you.

A bit of context and comparison might be helpful here. In the original Pikmin, the majority of Olimar's 'treasures' (the 30 ship parts scattered around the Pikmin's home planet, and which the Captain needs to find in order to rebuild the S.S. Dolphin) are in plain sight. The combination of Pikmin required to reach a specific part was a large component of the puzzle, with, for example, Yellow Pikmin being lighter and able to handle bombs, and Blue Pikmin able to travel through water. A late-game puzzle in Pikmin might force you to guide the non-aquatic types of Pikmin across a bridge or stream. However, the majority of the difficulty in Pikmin 2 comes from, more so than the treacherous terrain, the absolutely ruthless bosses and predators.

In the first game, few enemies are truly vicious: the Smoky Progg, located in The Distant Spring on certain days, is one, and facing the trio of Burrowing Snagrets in The Forest of Hope is another fearsome prospect for the inexperienced leader. Nonetheless, they're few and far between. In the second game, these predators are in abundance, and are accompanied by even more zealous evolutions, like the Man-at-Legs or the Pileated Snagret. In facing these bosses, you don't even have the option of running back to the Onion to sprout more Pikmin; instead, you're forced to confront these creatures in deep, underground caverns, with a rapidly diminishing army. Some of these caves have 14-15 levels, with the boss located on the lowest floor, and by the time you've reached the final arena, most of your Pikmin have drowned or burned or lie, digested, in the stomach of a Spotty Bulbear. That's another creature that has become significantly more vicious since the original game - Olimar notes that it has a "certain indefatigability." Most likely due to its refusal to quit until it has devoured each and every last one of your Pikmin, I'd imagine. Here's a picture so you can witness its ghastly, bulging eyes and lips for yourself.



Chief among these terrors (or, at least, the one that caused me the most grievance), was the Empress Bulblax. If it wasn't already enough of a task to face her male counterpart (who was the final boss in the first game and a smaller version of whom appears here, as well), this giant slug can, disgustingly, lay dozens of Bulborb Larva to swarm Olimar and Louie. Worse still, when aggravated, it will roll to-and-fro, decimating any Pikmin foolish enough to be standing next to its vile form. Perhaps I'd need another playthrough to formulate a strategy which would allow me to kill the Empress without such needless, Braveheart-esque sacrifice. However, on the three occasions that she appeared in Pikmin 2, I can't say it ended all that happily.



With these tragedies in mind, what are my concluding thoughts on Pikmin 2? There are a lot of things to appreciate about the game vis-a-vis the first game, which was, after all, a Gamecube launch title and relatively experimental. Because there are so many treasures (mostly household objects and purchasable, real-world items, like 7Up bottlecaps), the length of the game extends far beyond that of the original: it's a meaty, completionist's game, with a lot expected of the player to achieve 100%. It's also quite exciting to see the lore of the Pikmin world expanded upon so comprehensively. Olimar is a seasoned explorer at this point, with considerable knowledge of the Pikmin world, and his journal hints at a number of untold adventures. It's a much more vibrant, convincing planet, with the implication being that the areas Olimar visited in the first game have, even since his short visit home, sped forward in time: the four areas in Pikmin 2 are, topographically, reminiscent of Pikmin's locales. The graphics are much improved, and the AI of the Pikmin has been enhanced, so it's now much easier to save them from a watery grave.

I think the caves, of which there are around 14, do weaken the experience somewhat, however. While there is an overworld, the majority of time is spent underground, crawling around sand dunes and along fragments of broken plant pots. This does provide solid evidence for the theory that the Pikmin's planet is our world/Earth, since there are Duracell batteries and Haribo sweets left behind by an ancient civilisation. However, it also nulls the peaceful, pastoral quality of Pikmin: these underground levels resemble 'challenge rooms,' filled with bosses and loot but without the ability to spawn more Pikmin, making them difficult and less fun. And, visually, it's less interesting, too - think Ocarina of Time with 70% of the game spent at the Bottom of the Well. Overall, then, Pikmin 2 is excellent; but I can't help preferring the first.
nintendocs: gaming (pic#)


Strangely, for a blog called Nintendocs (a portmanteau of 'Nintendo' and 'documents,' if you hadn't already noticed), my first article on this site actually concerns a PS4 version of a twenty-year-old Dreamcast game. On top of that, these are ports of the original Shenmue games: they're in HD, the loading times are considerably lessened, and neat effects like anti-aliasing and bloom lighting help to smoothen out those rough edges, but these are not remakes by any stretch of the imagination. Furthermore, I haven't played the original two games, and my only knowledge of Shenmue was, prior to about 2018, a vague memory of its Virtua Fighter cutscenes, which I must have seen in GAME around 1999 or 2000. Add all this to the fact that the original game almost bankrupted SEGA when it was originally released... Say, why does this rerelease deserve a review again? And why should I be the one to do it?

One good reason might be that I've fallen in love with Shenmue; the first game, anyway, which I'm talking about here. You play Ryo Hazuki, a Japanese teenager and gifted martial artist, as he seeks to avenge the death of his father. Armed with little more than a notebook and the knowledge that the murderer was a Chinese mobster, Ryo slowly gathers clues about how to locate the cartel - with an emphasis on the word slowly. Unlike the story of a Hollywood film or a more contemporary game, Ryo's mission can't be completed overnight; he's only 18, after all, with school and college to think about, and he's constantly impeded by practicalities like money and transport.

The bulk of the game, in fact, involves little to no action. Faced with the prospect that Lan Di - his father's murderer and leader of the Chi You Men cartel - may have already left for parts unknown, Ryo turns to his friends and neighbours for information: about how to make money, about how to follow Lan Di's trail, and even about aspects of Chinese culture and history (which help to explain why his father was being pursued in the first place). This requires you to navigate the game's open-world rendering of 1980s Japan (a remarkable experiment in 1999), and specifically the districts of Yokosuka, Sakuragaoka, and Dobuita, populated by a range of quirky and memorable characters. Each character even has, in the vein of say, Majora's Mask, their own schedule, as they go to and from work, go shopping, or spend time at a bar or arcade. Each of these activities are even available for you, Ryo, to do as well: later in the game, you pick up a part-time job, and in-between scheduled appointments and conversations, you're free to kill time however you please.

If the prospect of having to 'kill' time sounds (whisper it) boring to you, then you're not alone: upon its release, Shenmue was regarded by many as a failed, flat experiment. Sure, an open world is impressive, but unless it's filled with interesting things to do, or some kind of action or event to keep the plot ticking over, how good is it? Is it merely a Sims game where you play the Sim? The prospect of having to wait for a bus to take you home from work or having to spin the rotary dial to each digit in a phone number might sound mind-numbing for some. Shenmue isn't helped - especially in 2019 - by its archaic voice acting and bizarre character models. Though the game arguably contains more recorded lines of dialogue than some current-gen titles, it can seem atavistic when played on a PS4.

Yet Shenmue is a game that merits (and rewards) patience. First impressions are of a slightly creaky Dreamcast game, with stilted acting and wonky writing; but nonetheless, I would cite these as some of the things that lend Shenmue its charm. Because the delivery of the voice acting is goofy, the characters are memorable and idiosyncratic: there's a woman in Sakuragoaka that sounds like Edward G. Robinson or W.C. Fields (you'll know the one when you meet her), and Goro's lines are ridiculously over-the-top. Even Ryo's own lines are basic, delivered in a wooden fashion (he'll say "I see" or "OK" even when it doesn't contextually make sense), but it's nonetheless in keeping with his personality and goals - his mild-mannered responses disguise his single-minded determination. Such is his commitment to finding Lan Di that he shuts himself off from those who care about him, like potential love interest Nozomi. Even when Nozomi admits her feelings for Ryo, his one-note answers remind us that his mind is elsewhere, rather than being evidence of unimaginative writing and acting.

And even though the graphics are, by today's standards, rather lacklustre, it somehow manages to be an absolutely beautiful game. As time progresses, and the year comes to an end, snow begins to settle on the streets, Christmas lights are hung up around the district, and townspeople begin to carry umbrellas. Music and visuals combine to convey an incredible sense of atmosphere: around 7pm, the street lights are turned on, shop workers stay indoors, and various ne'er-do-wells take centre stage in nightclubs and bars. You can bide your time until the next event by visiting the casino, playing games at the arcade, by training your various movesets (there are some sections where Ryo must mete out punishment to gang members and criminals), or by exploring the Hazuki dojo for secret items and flashbacks. My favourite thing to do, personally, is purchasing a soft drink from the vending machine - a mundane task, but one which epitomises Shenmue's extraordinary attention to detail (see video below).

It's a relatively short game (I imagine you could complete it rather quickly once you've worked out all the mysteries once), but it permits the player an exceptional amount of freedom in those 15-20 hours. Effectively, you can control the pace of the game, deciding whether you want to bypass certain leads in favour of a grand objective or choosing to get your information from alternative sources (for example, there are multiple characters who will translate Chinese text). There are also an enormous number of items to collect, ranging from Gashapon toys and jujitsu scrolls to cassette tapes which you can play on in-game Walkmans! Even the most superfluous items don't go to waste, as collectibles can be transferred to Shenmue II (where Ryo's financial woes are even more desperate) and pawned for cash. These side-quests encourage you to spend each of your days productively, while making careful use of your money at the same time.

Shenmue isn't for everybody, but it certainly captivated me, and because of that maybe I was the right person to review it after all. Here's a game that almost wants you to be bored, giving you in-game afternoons on which you have nothing on, no leads, no one to talk to - and asks you to find your own fun; as if you were an actual teenager in the city with hours to kill until the next bus home. It dares to leave you to your own devices, to figure things out for yourself, and therein lies Shenmue's experimental, unique, magical quality: in striving for that everyday, mundane realism, it becomes like nothing else you've ever played.

Shenmue I & II are available now on PS4 and Xbox One.
Argos: €29.99
GameStop: €35.99

Welcome!

Mar. 13th, 2019 04:23 pm
nintendocs: gaming (Default)
Welcome to Nintendocs!

Nintendocs is a gaming blog hosted here at Dreamwidth.org. My name is Eoin and I intend to fill this site with gaming news, reviews, commentary, secrets, and walkthroughs. It will have an emphasis on Nintendo games and news - as the name of the blog suggests - but it will also discuss games and developments on other platforms and by other companies. If you have any questions, recommendations, or you would like to write an article for this site, please contact me at nintendocuments@gmail.com or leave a comment below.

If you'd like to know what titles I have access to, check the following list:

https://backloggery.com/DarkSolez

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