Tee hee hee… Yatta!

So guess what you guys? I wrote a novel. A whole, complete novel. In thirty days.

Yeah, this is a big deal for me.

 

 

So for those who haven’t heard of NaNoWriMo (aka National November Writing Month), it’s basically this event where a bunch of internet-savvy writers plop down and, just for the month of November, aim to pen a 50,000-word novel for the thirty days of that month. Now, 50,000 is a hefty sum, about five 5-page essays in Collegespeak. And to tie all those words into a narrative, however incoherent or ridiculous, takes time. It takes time, dedication, insanity, and more coffee than I care to imbibe regularly (I’m more of a tea man).

Buuut, I made it. This is my first time winning since 2009, and the first time ever winning while also finishing the novel’s rough draft.

Yes this is a big deal! I’ve been a wannabe novelist for almost 10 years now, and I’ve finally finished a rough draft! I may not be a published novelist, but I’m getting there!

So yeah, that happened. I’ll get back to playing games now that I have free time though. In the meantime, check my totally sub-par attempt at Let’s Play! It’s an unreleased game! Square Aliens!

The Girl that Chants Love at the Edge of the World: YU-NO

So, say you decided to go to the past and kill yourself. You’d jump in your little time machine, warp back a couple of days, on the night you PM’d that girl you like the awkwardly written confession of love over Facebook that would cement your standing with her as some creepy stalker, and perhaps off yourself somehow. What would happen after that, though? Well, you’d probably chide yourself for taking such extremes, but what about after that? What would the consequences be on your version of the present? You’ve just killed yourself, of two days past. This means that the girl you like couldn’t sternly reject your feelings the day after, preventing you from becoming dejected enough to listen to your crazy friend about the time machine he had discovered, making it impossible for you to check it out out of boredom and depression, or to come up with the idea to use this time machine to go back into the past and kill yourself. And if you were never alive to kill your past self, how would you have traveled back then to do the deed?

This all would certainly be quite the dilemma, granted if time was simply a linear, self-correcting concept. But what if time wasn’t just one straight line of events, but rather a branching network of possibilities and alternate outcomes? What if what we called “history” was actually a network of tributaries rather than a singular stream of events? This sort of “multiverse” thinking suddenly makes the killing of one’s past self a possibility, as doing so wouldn’t alter the time traveler’s present, but rather create an entirely new “present” in which there is no time traveler. The you of that timeline would never be able to travel to the past, due to being killed by you, who has not only come from the future, but from a different future of a practically different timeline. You’d not only be a time traveler, you’d be crossing into entirely new dimensions.

The Girl that Chants Love at the Edge of the World: YU-NO (この世の果てで恋を唄う少女：YU-NO） is a Japanese Adventure game that looks into this particular view of time travel, and uses it to present a unique take at its genre. It’s a pretty old game, released late 1996 as the last game for the NEC PC-9801 personal computer from publisher elf, but it holds up surprisingly well even now due to its unorthodox storyline and game play mechanics.

The story of YU-NO follows Sakaimachi Academy delinquent Takuya Arima and his life after the death of his father, Dr. Koudai Arima. His old man was a historical researcher with controversial theories on history and the concept of Time, with views dealing with the occurrence of significant events in human history at 400-year intervals, and how history itself may not be the result of a singular timeline, but rather a network of different timelines and realities which happens to converge into the present. Initially, as he had while the man was alive, Takuya regards his father’s theories as utter BS. But when his supposedly dead dad sends him a package containing a few items; namely a mirror, a couple of glass orbs called “Jewels,” a slotted device called a “Reflector,” and a letter telling him to head off to Triangle Mountain with these objects in hand; Takuya’s doubt turns to curiosity as he heads off to the mysterious local landmark by the beach.

What he finds there, however, is a whole slew of other questions. At the foot of the tall rock, Takuya witnesses the death and disappearance of a mysterious golden-haired woman who knew his name for some reason. There, he also finds a worried Ayumi with Ryuuzouji, headmaster of Sakaimachi Academy and colleague of Dr. Arima. The man pulls a gun on Takuya, demanding that he hand over the Reflector his father gave him. Before he can comply, however, a bright light envelops Takuya and spirits him away to another Triangle Mountain, sans Ayumi or Ryuuzouji.

Takuya later realizes that he’s been dumped into an alternate timeline, where he has approximately fifty hours to find the other six jewels for the Reflector. Until he can find the other jewels and bring the fully assembled Reflector to Triangle Mountain, he’ll be stuck in this two-day time loop where no two-day period is exactly the same. In the process, Takuya will learn of mysterious rumors, political corruption, underhanded corporate dealings, unrequited love, double lives, impractically dressed news reporters, and of the full, otherworldly implications behind his father’s research.

In terms of game genre, YU-NO is a bit of a mixed breed. The first half of the game (Takuya’s time loop dilemma) can be classified as a sort of point-and-click adventure game, kind of like Myst or The Journeyman Project. The prologue and second half (what happens after Takuya gets all eight jewels) is more akin to traditional Japanese adventure games, like Snatcher or Princess Tomato in the Salad Kingdom. Both parts blend in a visual novel-esque first-person focus and emphasis on a detailed and branching storyline, creating a mix of Eastern and Western interactive fiction ideologies. What’s more, the segregation between the two play styles is integrated into the story; Takuya’s possession of the Reflector in the first half of the game completely affects how the game is navigated, saved and played in that section. While it’s not as internally consistent as other Japanese adventure games, the seemingly eclectic fusion of game play is fascinating in how it all works together to provide a  unique experience.

This is a screenshot from two different parts of the game. Notice how the former lacks the action menu of the latter. Also note how the former has an inventory bar and a Reflector with jewels in the right-hand side of the screen.

Take the way the game handles saving for example. Unlike most other visual novels and adventure games, with numerous save slots and almost unlimited opportunities for saving, YU-NO offers only three save slots, and the game’s traditional save method only allows for saving in the slot the game was created in. Additionally, for the menu-driven prologue and second half of the game (more on the latter in a bit), the game only allows saving in particular parts of the narrative, rather than at every decision point. The branching main game will allow for saving at nearly any time, but doing so will automatically kick you back to the title screen (essentially like a “memo save” or “field log” in certain RPGs, except it doesn’t delete the data after loading). This effectively kills the ability to spam saves before each critical decision point, making each move Takuya makes all the more crucial.

However, that’s not to say Takuya hasn’t a little insurance on his side. Enter the “Jewel Saves,” saves granted by the glass orb macguffins that function in the same way traditional quick saves in a visual novel with one critical difference: they’re limited to the number of jewels Takuya has in his possession. Each jewel save sets one of the jewels at that particular moment in time, to which Takuya can warp back to by pulling up the “Divergence Map,” a feature of the Reflector that serves as a sort of temporal “auto-map” feature. Every time Takuya is sent back to the first day, he’s given an opportunity to redo the events of those days, opening up alternative routes and scenarios. This Divergence Map helpfully shows the branches of time he’s travelled, as well as the jewel saves you’ve placed and the general “areas” in time the other, unaquired jewel saves are. Placing a jewel save will leave a feathered square at that point in time, one which the player may click on to pull Takuya back or forward in time to that particular point in time. Doing so will return the used jewel to Takuya’s reflector to be used again if needed. One will need to use a fair bit of strategy and intuition when deciding to place a jewel save, as the Reflector requires at least one jewel still in the device to pull up the Divergence Map. When all of the jewel saves have been expended, Takuya will be forced to go through the game with no bearing on the passage of time or with a way to load a jewel save until he either finds another one in-game, or the player decides to go back to the night before the first day through the game’s load menu.

A critical feature about both loading jewel saves and restarting the main game from the main menu is that both options allow Takuya to keep the progress and items he puts in his inventory prior to loading the jewel save. For a Japanese adventure game, there’s an uncanny emphasis placed on item management. While inventory space isn’t an issue for Takuya, the player will have to be mindful of when to use an item. Some paths are blocked from the player until Takuya uses a particular item, while others will open up if Takuya does not use an item when prompted. Vital items for one route may only be acquirable on another timeline, and once an item is used, it’s gone until Takuya manages to get the item again. So, say Takuya decides to use a jewel save before giving a certain character a certain key card he received from clearing another route. If he were to give the character the requested key card, Takuya will no longer have that card in his inventory. So, if Takuya were to reload the jewel save before this event, he’ll have no key card to give and will need to retrieve it again by traversing and clearing that other route. Consequences can be dire for those who don’t utilize the jewel saves and items wisely, as situations like this can potentially result in hours of backtracking to fix a careless mistake.

Now, difficulty is not usually an issue in Japanese adventure games. In fact, one of the more prominent arguments against these and visual novels is how non-interactive these games tend to be. Not being one to conform to previously set standards, YU-NO punches up the difficulty, though this doesn’t quite work to its advantage. One of the more glaring of YU-NO’s flaws is the Nintendo Hard “Guide Dang It”-ness the game presents the player. Without the included walkthrough, and if you’re being careful, this game is still quite difficult. To be fair, the game will hint, sometimes with great subtlety, on the actions you’ll need to take. While he may give some cues in his dialogue and monologue, Takuya will sometimes outright state where he needs to go or when you should use a Jewel Save. But other times, you’ll just need to use your own common sense and intuition to make your way through the Divergence Map. It’s not always obvious where to go, what to click, or what item to use, and sometimes it’s impossible to clear a route without first picking up a key item from another route, much like my previously stated example. The game presents no recommended sequence of routes, leaving it up to the player to experiment. Doing so requires viewing a number of events multiple times, and the experience can get quickly stale because of it (the last night of Mio’s route is a particularly dastardly example). It’s typically recommended that you use the bare-bones walkthrough included in the English translation installer, as it saves the player a whole lot of backtracking. Personally, if you’re really not the type to use walkthroughs, I’d recommend consulting it after clearing your first two-day loop, when you’ve got a better grasp on how the game is played.

Also, don’t forget that the Shift key fast-forwards through the text. This will soften the pain of backtracking a great deal.

Of course, on your first play-through, you’re probably not going to want to fast-forward the text and descriptions, given that YU-NO’s storyline is the game’s most defining trait, which should be a given considering what kind of game it is. What is surprising is just how epic it is in scope and size, compared to its peers of both past and present. To wit, a full play-through, straight to the credits without going for 100% completion will clock in at a little less than 50 hours WITH the walkthrough material included in the English translation. While not as monstrously long or wordy as, say, Fate/Stay Night, the story itself integrates a greater variety of literary genres together. As a whole, one could consider it a work of sci-fi, given the amount of focus the narrative gives to Takuya’s discovery and understanding of the parallel world theorem Dr. Arima and his associates formulated. There are also elements of mystery and suspense, as Takuya delves deeper into the intrigue surrounding his father’s disappearance and how Triangle Mountain, Ayumi’s company, Ryuuzouji’s actions, and a reclusive girl at school all tie into this. Romantic elements play a significant role in the development of the different characters, as each of the four-and-a-half different timelines focus on a pairing between Takuya and one of the game’s main heroines as both focus their efforts towards solving a specific piece of the overarching puzzle. The second half of the game takes on a strong fantasy flavor, but retains its sci-fi grounding from earlier in the game near the end, making what would seem like a mishmash of different genres an ambitious and mostly coherent tale. Many claim YU-NO to be the late Hiroyuki Kanno’s magnum opus, who also designed a number of other famous Japanese adventure games and visual novels, such as Eve Burst Error and Desire. Though I’m not familiar with his other works, I’ve gotta say this one’s especially intriguing. At times, the game almost reads like a Dan Simmons novel, with its blend of fantasy and sci-fi.

Now as defining and intriguing as the story is, I can’t actually say it’s the BEST aspect of YU-NO. Don’t get me wrong; as a video game, it has one of the most well-written, well-thought out stories to have come out of the medium. It is by no means perfect, however. As seemingly grounded in logic the game attempts to be when approaching the subject of traveling across time and dimensions, some of the solutions to the various plot twists seem like contrived cop-outs with little explanation, while some are simply nonexistent. By journey’s end, after 100% completing the game, I still had a number of questions unanswered about the events of the story. Granted, this is a very general complaint, with little in the way of non-spoilery evidence and one that can be leveled against the best of game stories, but it’s especially irksome in standalone games with large, epic stories like this. Plus, with the recent passing of Kanno, we may never learn of the universe of YU-NO outside of what is present in the story.

The characters of YU-NO also are a little lacking, though this is probably more because the game’s a product of the late 90s, which shows in both story characterization and character design. For example, many (if not all) of the heroines tend to fit a little too well in anime girl character archetypes that, by today, have gotten a little trite. Mio Shimazu, resident rich girl and tsundere, is initially cold towards Takuya’s lecherous joker personality, but she predictably falls for him if he so much as engages a serious conversation with her. While the reserved Kanna Hatano is a little more hard to win over, her silent girl personality is a little more than reminescent of girls like Rei Ayanami from Evangelion or Yuki Nagato from Haruhi Suzumiya. And, per the usual for these types of characters, her quietness provides a ruse for a deeper, darker side. Neither Eriko’s aloof chain-smoking school nurse shtick or former teacher Mitsuki’s flirtatious older woman act  will be anything new to even the most casual of anime fans.  And Amanda and Sayless, two girls Takuya encounters in the second half of the game, get surprisingly little characterization, which is especially egregious considering their significant contributions to the plot. Perhaps the most interesting character is protagonist Takuya, whose initial “perverted jackass with a heart of gold” characterization makes him comparable characters like Lupin the 3rd, but with the few layers of angst and self-conflict prevalent in teenage heroes struggling with their pasts. This works especially well for Takuya, who is able to maintain great chemistry with comparatively bland co-characters through insightful jokes, keen observations about the who and what around him, and the occasional disregard for the fourth wall. His character is surprisingly fluid, adapting to the many heartwarming and dire situations the story presents him.

The character designs, as stated before, are also a little dated. While the graphics themselves are bright and well-defined, how the characters are built anatomically is a little laughable. The most noticeable example once again lies with the female cast, with unnaturally curvaceous dimensions abound. Nearly all of the main females are well-endowed in terms of bust, hips, and waist; which makes the game kind of hard to take seriously at times. And Takuya suffers from the faceless syndrome many Japanese adventure game/visual novel protagonists shared at the time. His front bangs completely obscure the top of his face, and this seems to never bother him or those around him. While not a big issue, it does look pretty silly in some scenes.

While the story and characterization is a little lacking, special mention should be made concerning the music, which is by far the game’s true best aspect. Much of the soundtrack was composed by the late, great Ryu Umemoto, made famous in the Western world with his work on Cave’s bullet hell shooters like Bug Princess (Mushihime-sama), Espgaluga II and Akai Katana. It’s said that he worked closely with Kanno when composing for the game, and it really shows. The soundtrack covers a wide palette of emotion and feeling, with each track suited perfectly to each scene. Heck, a lot of pieces, particularly “Manifestation,” “Fate,” and “Turnover” add to the suspense and drama in the narrative. The character themes also fit well with the characters they’re tied to. Mio gets a soft, elegant piece that nicely represents both her harshness towards Takuya and the emotionally delicate side her character type tends to hide. Yuuki, Takuya’s bumbling underclassman subordinate, has a slow piece that reflects his relaxed, somewhat dopey nature. And Mitsuki, former instructor at Sakaimachi Academy and old flame of Takuya’s, has a jazzy, sort of sorrowful piece that expresses a mature air about it.  How Umemoto and fellow composers Ryu Takami and Kazuhiro Kanae pull this off is certainly no small feat, considering the sound capabilities of the PC-9801 are equivalent to that of a slightly beefier Sega Genesis/Mega Drive.

In terms of audio, the game’s voice acting also deserves praise. Originally an exclusive to the Saturn port, the team at TLWiki Translations was nice enough to include the Saturn voices in an optional patch for the game. It really says something when a company can afford to hire an all-star cast to do the voices in a console port of one of their games, and elf certainly didn’t disappoint with their selection of voices for this game.

Nobuyuki Hiyama, who would later provide the grunts and yells of Adult Link in Ocarina of Time and Smash Bros., plays the role of Takuya. He’s well known for the hot-blooded protagonist roles he plays in various games and anime, and it translates very nicely to his character. As the main character, Takuya goes through a wide variety of emotions in the narrative: frustration when recalling his late father, joy in teasing Mio, irritation from dealing with Yuuki, fragile calmness when dealing with a critical situation and shock when finding a lifeless body. Hiyama’s experience as an anime voice actor shines through in his voice overs, which is quite apparent even to those unfamiliar with the Japanese language.

Also impeccably cast is the voice of Ryuuzouji. Akio Ohtsuka’s more recent voice work includes voice of Rider in the excellent Fate/Zero anime adaption, as well as the Japanese voice for Seth in Street Fighter IV, Batou in the Ghost in the Shell Series, and Solid Snake’s voice in the Japanese versions of Super Smash Bros. Brawl and Metal Gear Solid. His gruff, serious voice gives the mysterious and morally ambiguous school headmaster a heavy helping of character, rugged, badass character. Yeah, his character’s supposed to be more of an academic, but his characterization in the story certainly benefits from Ohtsuka’s voice. If anything, Ohtsuka adds to Ryuuzouji just as much as Kanno’s script.

The female cast is similarly star-studded. Kikuko Inoue (Belldandy in Ah! My Goddess, I-No in Guilty Gear, Lust in Fullmetal Alchemist) provides the gentle voice of Takuya’s stepmom Ayumi. Aya Hisakawa (Sailor Mercury in Sailor Moon, Xianghua in the first three Soul Calibur games) adopts a lower tone for the voice of Eriko. Rei Sakuma (Shampoo from Ranma 1/2, Sanrio’s My Melody in her recent anime series, Jiji from Kiki’s Delivery Service) provides a classic tsundere haughtyness. And Yuka Imai (Arisa from Fruits Basket, Misaki from Excel Saga, Rutee from Tales of Destiny) subdues her emotions nicely for emotionless girl Kanna.

With top-notch presentation, unique and original gameplay mechanics, and a flawed yet enjoyable story with an ambitious scope, YU-NO is certainly worth the look for people curious about the Japanese adventure game genre, especially for those more accustomed to Western fare. The storyline is, if nothing else, genuinely interesting, the soundtrack is outstanding, and the gameplay is quite a ways more involved than the average visual novel (though it’s also a little difficult). If you’re looking for a good bit of interactive fiction, and if you can get around its erotic elements and how difficult it is to legally acquire the game, then you’ll find YU-NO well worth your time. Of course, if legal restrictions don’t bother you much-

Huh? “Erotic elements”? Oh… right. Looks like I forgot something. *sigh*

Right, so YU-NO classified as an “eroge,” or “erotic game.” You see, publisher elf’s main thing was (and still is) publishing adult games for the Japanese market, and YU-NO was one such game. So, true to its genre, there’s an overdose of panty shots, quite a bit of nudity, and a few explicit sex scenes. While their inclusion isn’t absolutely terrible or game-breaking (save for a couple of instances), they don’t add much other than reasons for people to steer clear. Which is a shame, because I strongly believe games like these shouldn’t be defined by the sexual content they have. While classified as an “eroge,” it’s hardly porn. For one, the explicit sexual content comes in hours into the story, behind layers of gameplay and logical thinking. This is a costly investment for someone just looking for nekkid chicks to oogle at. Plus, the H-scenes aren’t presented as rewards for solving puzzles or clicking through enough scenes, but rather as simple events in a narrative. They’re really more akin to sex scenes in a movie or novel.

Regardless, the sex and nudity is still there, and it still makes YU-NO a game not exactly safe for work, children or those who have little tolerance for naked anime girls. BUT, if acquiring the game poses no moral dilemma for you, and if you’re willing to put up with the erotic elements, this is one adventure you won’t regret playing through. This is easily elf’s best work, and one of the best Eastern adventure games out there.

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The Hunger Games Trilogy (…a book review?)

The Hunger Games Trilogy was a bit different from what I was expecting from a young adult novel. Rather than an implausible supernatural romance, or a fantasy starring a spunky kid who stumbles upon a magical something, this story takes place in a not-so-pleasant future where humanity has all but bombed itself to death, and the government that has risen from the anarchy doesn’t give a damn about such archaic things as “inalienable rights.” Yeah, there’s the teenage protagonist one would normally associate with these kinds of books, and there is a prevalent romantic aspect, but when the premise of the first book is about twenty-four minors, aged 12 to 18, hunting and killing each other for the entertainment of the ominous Capital; and when the other two books end up being substantially darker than this, you’ve gotten yourself an atypical young adult novel series that is definitely worth your time.

The first book, The Hunger Games, begins with Katniss Everdeen. She lives in District 12, the sector of Panem dedicated to coal mining. With her father dead from an unfortunate mining incident, she is left to take care of her younger sister, Prim, and her catatonic mother. But since she’s too young to mine coal, and since the accident left her with a crippling fear of mines, she sets out hunting outside of the District everyday. Though doing so is usually punishable by death, it’s about the only thing that keeps the fam alive, other than the mother’s apothecary services. This all changes when the day of Reaping comes, and two candidates, one boy and one girl, must be chosen for the Hunger Games. This is that aforementioned contest where kids start killing each other, and when Katniss’s sister gets chosen, she volunteers to go instead, knowing that what awaits her is certain death.

The second book, Catching Fire, is about Katniss’s life after the Games. She miraculously suvives, but her life is still pretty crappy. Especially now that she’s caught up in a romantic love triangle that is eating away at her sanity. No wait, that’s only the least of her problems. What’s REALLY eating at her is the fact that the President of Panem is threatening to kill her and everyone she knows for a little stunt she pulled in the last Games. To add insult to injury, she’s been chosen to fight in the Quarter Quell, a special Hunger Games taking place every 25 years since the crushing defeat of the districts during their uprising. Having to fight for her life yet again, and with a multitude of personal problems back home, it’s no wonder she’s starting to lose it a little.

The third book, Mockingjay, kinda breaks form in that there are no Hunger Games in this book. Instead, we get Katniss thrown into an all-out war against the Capital that apparently she started. As things really start to get serious, she’s got to learn how to cope with her friends dying en masse, and question the ambitions and loyalties to which her living friends swear by. Without spoiling too much, I’ll say she gets her happy ending, but she goes through mental and physical hell to get it.

As you can tell, the subject matter is a little less than cheery. Author Suzanne Collins does a great job telling this, detailing the suffering the district dwellers go through under the oppressive watch of the Capital, and how war, whether in a staged battlefield or an all-out rebellion, really is hell. Collins mounts up quite a bit of buildup before the bloody bits begin to occur. In The Hunger Games, the titular contest doesn’t actually start until about a third into the book, and second and third books follow suit with the Quarter Quell and the invasion into the Capital respectively. This isn’t such a bad thing, though. Being about sixteen in the first book, it’s understandable that Katniss has a lot of emotional duress when chosen to die in the Hunger Games. It would make sense for Katniss to remember every detail leading up to what she thought would be the time of her death. The reader waits with bated breath along with the protagonist, wondering how the Hunger Games will play out and if survival really is an option. This is just one of the tactics the author uses to effectively convey the muddled thoughts of a teenage killer-by-circumstance. It’s all quite gripping, leaving you to wonder what atrocity is about to occur next, and how Katniss will react to it. Of course, the fact that the author likes to end her chapters on ambiguous or shocking statements might also play a bit on the books’ addictive qualities.

There are a few flaws with the series, though nothing truly deal-breaking. The romantic aspect is a bit contrived, admittedly. The love triangle has Katniss having to choose between “Aggressive Hunter” childhood friend and “Zero Testosterone” childhood stalker. The romance does play an important role in the story, as it often serves as another driving force for Katniss’s resolve. But it hardly ever encompasses the story wholly, and just never becomes that bothersome. Which is obviously a good thing, but it does leave a sense that this aspect was kinda just thrown in because it’s a young adult novel, and teens just adore this stuff or something. I dunno, I just thought it wasn’t handled very well. Since the narration follows Katniss’s train of thought, the intentionally choppy sentences that pepper some of the chapters may cause a certain lack of clarity. Such a thing is sure to bother some people, though personally I kinda like the unreliable narrator point-of-view. There’s also a good dose of pessimism in the first two books, and a hefty serving of it in the third. Again, it’s not really a problem as far as I’m concerned, but by the third book some will probably just groan and ask themselves, “Oh great, who else is going to die in some gruesome way, mind raping Katniss in the process?”Really, it happens more times than some might be comfortable with, perhaps bordering on repetitive even.

In any case, The Hunger Games trilogy warrants at least a cursory glance through. It’s refreshingly dreary, yet almost never depressingly so (at least until Book Three). I highly recommend them to those looking for a little Dynastopia in their fiction, and perhaps to Latinophiles too, as there’s more Latin terms and names than one could shake a stick at. In any case, it was good enough for me to read during my breaks at work. And that’s saying something, considering the Pokemon addiction I had at the time.

Yes, this was a lazy review. Shut up. I’m tired and I just finished my last final for the summer.

Life Force

Released: September 25, 1987
Developed by: Konami
Published by: Konami
System: Family Computer / NES

Gradius was a great, yet flawed game. It had nice graphics, an interesting power-up system, and some catchy tunes to boot. But it was hampered by a few things, including repetitive and boring boss fights, repetitive boss fight music, and the aptly named “Gradius Syndrome,” where dying just once in the later levels will pretty much gurantee a game over, regardless of how many extra lives you’ve accumulated. When it was good, Gradius was awesome. But when things went south, Gradius kicked you in the balls and spat in your face. It was definitely a game that had to be memorized and damn near perfected to win.

About a year and a half after that outing, we get a pseudo-sequel from Konami entitled “Lifeforce,” if you lived in the US. This is also a great, yet flawed game, but it does do what every good sequel sets out to do and improves where the first got it right and sorta fixes where it went wrong. So, what we get is an awesome game that makes for an even better sequel.

Now, if there is one thing people who have played Gradius will notice when playing this game – probably even before the similar gameplay – it would be the graphics. The graphics have taken a considerable improvement from last time, featuring more backgrounds than the static starfield present in the last game. Environments this time around are considerably more visceral, as apparent from the brain and nerve matter you blast through in the first level. The third level takes place through a minature star, with the threat of a sudden solar flare popping up from either ceiling or floor. The fourth level is a fight against vicious red and white blood cells, and the fifth level starts out as your standard cave level and transitions nicely into a mysterious Egyptian-esque tomb. Bosses are bigger monstrocities with far more variety than Gradius’s repeating Big Core boss. Level 1 pits you against a giant brain with arms and an eye. Level 3 has you fight a giant flaming dragon. The last boss is a giant, cellular mass guarded by a vicious serpent that actually fights back, a much needed improvement from Gradius’s defenseless brain final boss.

As mentioned, gameplay is mostly the same, give or take a few switched buttons (Shoot and Power-Up buttons have been switched since the last game). You, as the Vic Viper, must shoot down an assortment of bad guys, collect shining power crystals from the wreckage, and augument your ship as you see fit. The more power crystals you collect, the further right your power-up selector moves. You can choose from speed power-ups (which collecting 1-3 of these is absolutely crucial to survival), missles that fire at 45 degree angles and travel along walls, piercing laser beams, and “options” that follow your ship’s every move and effectively double your firepower. New to this game is a ripple laser, which replaces last game’s double shot and expands the further it travels from your ship. The frontal shield from the last game has also been replaced, now with a full-body energy shield that protects the ship from all sides. Other nifty additions include missiles now being fired both up and down simultaneously, the ability to power up missles and the standard laser twice for faster rate of fire, and the ability to carry 3 options, but only in the Japanese version. America and Europe still only get 2 options, making for a slightly harder game.

Improvements to the formula set down by Gradius include a simultaneous 2-player option. So, instead of having to wait for Player 1 to die, both Players can duke it out for power ups and try to keep each other alive, lest the losing player be tempted to steal lives from the other. Dying no longer sends you back to a checkpoint, as a spare ship will pop out once you’ve lost a life. To lessen the pain of the Gradius Syndrome, the dead ship will also leave behind its options for the new ship to collect. This introduces an interesting system of risk and reward, as those that fly closer to the right may have less time to react to incoming enemies, but it gives more time for a new ship to collect options once said player dies. Conversely, a cautious player who hugs to the left side will have almost no time to collect options once he/she dies. Then there are the 3 vertical-scrolling, overhead view stages that are interspersed through the game. Gameplay’s no different in these stages, but it does make for a good change of pace.

As expected, though, it’s still not a perfect shooter. Though the instant respawing helps a little, the Gradius syndrome is still quite evident. Considering how hectic many levels can get, especially especially especially the third level, one death can still mean a game over. Seriously, I used to not be able to clear that damned sun level without the 30-lives cheat. With the cheat, I was only able to get to the 5th level. Very much like Gradius, the key to success is to power up as quickly as possible and pretty much not dying ever. Otherwise, powering back up is going to be one long and arduous experience. At the very least, Konami was generous enough to include 3 continues to complete the game, but it’s of little comfort when you spend all of your lives trying to power up, only for a stupid fire bird or solar flare to pop up and take it all away.

The only other complaint I have would have to be the utterly lackluster ending the International versions got. Because of Nintendo’s No-Custom Chip policy for America and Europe, Konami had to cut out a few nifty things from the Japanese version to accomodate the weaker technology. Such cuts include the ability to hold 3 options, a nifty title screen with a nice starfield effect and swirly fire thing, and the multiple endings one can get depending on how many continues were used in the clearing of the game. These endings aren’t epic affairs that modern gamers are adjusted to, but they at least include a credits scroll and a little picture on the side. All America and Europe get is, after the enemy base blows up again, a static Konami logo and some end music. Yup that’s it. Press any button on the logo, and you’re booted back to level one. Seriously, this is no big spoiler or anything. I mean, if you were just presented this:

…after having cleared a nerve-racking, post-final boss escape from the enemy fortress, you’d be a little let down too. I mean, you don’t even get a “Congratulations!” or a cheesy Engrish ending, or anything. The game just shows you who made the game, just in case you didn’t see it on the title screen, and then makes you play the game all over again. Playing the game again isn’t so bad, considering it’s got quite a bit of replay value, but I mean, that ending! C’mon Konami, you really could have done better than that. That’s just laziness right there.

But it’s no big deal, though. Lifeforce is a great game that warrants at least 2 playthroughs. Really, not 2 hours after beating the American version, I hopped on my computer and played through the Japanese rom just to see the endings I missed. I guess the lackluster ending was made to coerce gamers, in their fits of rage, to pay them more money to order the Japanese version so that they can get an actual ending. I dunno, it worked with me at least.

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Rad Racer

Released: August 7, 1987
Developed by: Square
Published by: Square (Japan) / Nintendo (US/Europe)
System: Family Computer / NES

You guys know about Square-Enix, right? Of course you do; you buy their Final Fantasy games all of the time, provided you have enough money to do so after buying that latest Call of Duty, Halo, Mario, or whatever. Well, for those not in the know, the big RPG megacorporation was once just two smaller development houses in days long past. There was Enix, who shook Japan with the release of The Portopia Serial Murder Case and Dragon Quest for the Famicom. Both games not only defined, but perhaps created the Japanese Visual Novel and Role-Playing game respectively. By this time in mid-87, Enix was doing fairly well, with Dragon Quest 2 already out and selling like hotcakes. It’d still be another 6 months before the release of the third Dragon Quest, which would make the entire series the representative gaming franchise of Japan and the RPG addiction for kids up until the release of Pocket Monsters.

As for Square, the other and currently more popular half, things weren’t going so well on their end. Final Fantasy the first had not been released yet, and what Square had on the table then was less than impressive, to say the least. Their best offering thus far was a gimmicky, borderline-Space Harrier ripoff called “The 3D Adventures of World Runner,” which displayed an over-the-shoulder, 3D-esque playing field and further “enhanced” it with either peripheral electronic goggles that hooked up to your system (Japan) or a pair of flimsy Cyan/Magenta glasses those old 3D movies used to tout (US/Europe). The graphics and gameplay (with or without glasses/goggles) was passable for its time, but it wasn’t anything groundbreaking. Square had also released a few RPGs, though they were usually relegated to Japanese PCs and the Famicom Disk System. Some were actually the work of other companies who let Square do the publishing, like Humming Bird Soft and their Deep Dungeon series. None of them, however, were really any good, gameplay or graphics-wise. In other words, the Square of 1987 was quite unlike the Square or 1997, or the Square of 2011. Without their magnum opus to stand on, they were just some struggling company releasing sorta-good games in order to survive.

This game would not change this, but it probably bought Square those extra months needed to complete Final Fantasy and make a name for themselves.

Rad Racer is, like The 3D Adventures of World Runner, rather gimmicky with the whole 3D thing. The game is presented in the same point-of-view as the former, with some pretty smooth 3D scrolling for it’s time. There’s also the optional 3D mode, which is activated by pressing the select button during gameplay. In the US version, this makes the screen into a red and blue mess that, when used with the 3D glasses included in the original packaging, is supposed to create some supposedly eye-popping 3D effects or something. Since I only have the cartridge, and the 3D glasses that came with one of my sister’s Barbie movies isn’t compatible with this game, I’ve had to use the standard non-3D mode.

Which is fine, really, because Rad Racer looks pretty nice without them. As mentioned before, the 3D scrolling is very smooth, and the little effects Square put in for the various hills and dips the tracks employ. I could really imagine gamers from this era seeing effects like these as true 3D, funny-colored glasses be damned. The simplistic colors further compliment the illusion of 3D, especially in the monochrome night tracks which use a sort of neon green or neon orange for their color. If there is one aspect that this game shares with the Square-Enix of modern days, it would be the attention and work given to the graphics.

Now, as great as this game looks, it’s really a matter of gameplay that decides whether a game sinks or floats in the 80s. 3D World Runner argueably looked just as good, but the gameplay was pretty frustrating and not very original. Rad Racer isn’t terribly original, either. You may have come across comparisons between this game, Sega’s Outrun, Namco’s Pole Position, or even Nintendo’s own F1 Race. The comparisons are apt, as they all employ similar gameplay with similar points-of-view with similar vehicles. Cursory looks at screenshots may prompt people to accuse Rad Racer of being a ripoff. Yet, I would like to argue that Rad Racer has enough to stand on it’s own when compared to these other games. While the cars in the other three games are outdated stick-shift machines, Rad Racer’s two cars are of the more convenient automatic type. In other words, there’s no need to fiddle with low and high gears. One button is used for braking, one is used for the gas, and one is used for a little extra acceleration and should be used carefully on turns and highly congested roads. All of the tracks are on 3-lane roads, and maneuvering around other cars is usually as simple as steering into an open lane and accelerating past. The enemy cars get a little trickier in the later stages, shifting lanes suddenly. Many a time I have hurriedly tried to steer into a gap between two cars, only for one of the cars to suddenly shift into my lane and knock me off of the track. It’s plenty infuriating, but one must be accomodating to the crazy drivers and the sadistic turns to see the game to the end.

Yes, as simplistic as the controls are, the game can be rather tricky. Heck, had I not known about being able to continue by pressing A+B and start after getting a game over, I probably would have simply given up out of frustration. It really takes some memerization as well as quick thinking when it comes to trying to get to one checkpoint to the next on a quickly dwindling time limit. On some tracks, messing up more than once will completely screw your chances of making it to the end.

In any case, Rad Racer is a pretty fun racing game and I’d argue one of the better pre-Mario Cart racers one could play on a digital pad. It may not be the game that really put Square on the map for gamers, but it does warrant some checking out for anyone with a love for old-school, arcadey racing games. Personally, I enjoy the game better than Gran Turismo or Ridge Racer, but that’s just confused ol’ me.

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Lunar Legend – Tsukihime

aka Shingetsutan Tsukihime (真月譚 月姫)
Licensed?: Yes
By whom?: Formerly Geneon Entertainment, now Sentai Filmworks
Currently in print as of April 2011?: Yes

Visual Novels…
…or rather, Anime adaptions of Visual Novels…

I always find the translation from text to moving pictures to be rather fascinating. Characters and events once limited to the mind’s eye take on a new definition when presented as a sequence of visible and clearly defined moments. What was once only open to interpretation becomes acted out in a way that, in some cases, seems more believable. Because of this, some events may play out differently from the source material, which in turn may influence the experience as a whole in either positive or negative ways.

The fact that many Tsukihime fans seem to deny outright the existence of this particular adaption may suggest how this translation was influenced.

For those not in the know, Tsukihime was the first Visual Novel game released by developer Type-Moon. The game was immensely popular, and for good reason. The story was well-written and macabre, the characters were interesting and sometimes even believable, and the presentation was simplistic and made the experience easy to follow. In short, it was one of the best Visual Novels made during it’s time.

A little more than 2 years after its initial release, anime studio J.C. Staff decided that making an anime based on Tsukihime would be a great idea. And who could blame em’? There were probably a lot of people excited about seeing Shiki Tohno’s run-in with love, death, and the supernatural in animated form. Memorable events, such as Shiki’s seventeen-piece dissection, the battle with Nrvnsqr and his 666 beasts, the en masse killings at that one hotel, and Shiki’s final battle would finally hit mainstream as an anime production, free of the negative stigma that surround the visual novel medium (i.e. wordy porno games). The anime studio set to make the adaption had respectable enough of a reputation. J.C. Staff had previously worked on such popular shows as Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997), Orphen (1998), Excel Saga (1999), and Azumanga Daioh (2002). There wasn’t any reason to doubt these guys to make a competent adaption of a wildly popular “Our Vampires are Different” story that focused more on its dark and creepy atmosphere and riveting narrative than it’s sparse and seemingly neglected erotic content.

Now, I first heard about Tsukihime with Melty Blood, a fighting game which uses some of Tsukihime’s cast and takes place in its storyline. Since Melty Blood was a work derived from the Tsukihime visual novel, I found myself wanting to know the back stories of the characters I was playing. However, the visual novel itself seemed to be much too inaccessible for me at the time for two primary reasons: 1) By the time I first heard of Tsukihime (circa 2008), the game and it’s re-releases have long since gone out of print, and 2) I had not developed the tolerance I have now for Japanese erotic games. I was relieved, however, when I found out that the game was made into a fairly work-safe anime series. I grew ecstatic to hear that said anime series was on YouTube for watching. Though I was only able to find the first couple of episodes, it interested me enough to pursue other episodes online. Cut to a couple of years later, I was able to locate the series, in its 12 episode entirety, one day during Junior year. I took the time to watch another couple of episodes, but I suddenly stopped when something hit me. Four episodes in, something felt unusual, almost wrong, about this anime. This was supposed to be an anime based on a riveting vampire story, and since Twilight backlash fever had hit its peak then, I was expecting something to wave at those Myer-pire tweeny freaks and declare “Hey! This is how you do a vampire story RIGHT bee-yaches!” Lunar Legend Tsukihime, however, didn’t seem that good. Heck, it didn’t seem better than Vampire Knight, which is only slightly better than Twilight (Twilight is eye-candy for teens, while Vampire Knight is animated eye-candy for teens, with an initially interesting story and a weird penguin manga author that always manages to amuse). Lunar Legend Tsukihime seemed unusually slow and static, heavy on the dialogue and little else. There were the occasional bloody scenes, but they lacked the gruesomeness that I had seen in other works that weren’t even known for violence, like Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Naruto, and even J.C. Staff’s own Excel Saga. This was an anime said to be appropriate for ages 17 and up, but most of the limb-splitting and gore was happening off-screen and on rare occasions. I wanted to like this show so much. This Tsukihime had to be good enough to have spurned fans to create the excellent Melty Blood fighting game. I mean, a game like that took utter fanboy DEDICATION to go from indie PC project to Arcade and PS2 ports, so the visual novel they got their material from can’t have been this… this stale.

Regardless, I was not able to get past that fourth episode. Other shows, such as The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya and One Piece (It’s really good, I swear!), caught my attention, and I once again abandoned Shiki, Arcueid, and the rest of them.

Cut to yet another couple of years, and I’ve had the privilege to both play mirrormoon’s translation of the original Visual Novel and write a review on it. Although I had already gained some knowledge of Tsukihime’s characters and story from the anime, the visual novel itself floored me with just how good it was. Naturally, after playing through all of the storyline routes, I found myself wanting more Tsukihime goodness. Remembering the anime I had watched some time ago, I decided to pick it up again and watch it to completion. Yeah, I had since found out that many Type-Moon fans have derided the series as a bastard mutation that had little similarity with the source material, but I still had faith. At least I knew that the series would go beyond its talky beginning into a mysterious and creepy narrative, and although there might be some alterations to the main storyline and characters, I would keep my mind open. If anything, the series was only 12 episodes long. If it really was as crappy as people made it out to be, then at least I wouldn’t have to sit through it for very long.

Lunar Legend Tsukihime roughly follows the same story as the Arcueid route in the visual novel. Young anemic Shiki Tohno is called back to his family’s luxurious mansion on the other side of town after news gets out about his father’s death. Having lived with another, more casual branch of his family, Shiki predictably has problems adjusting to the high standards expected as a resident of the Tohno estate by his younger sister, Akiha. But adapting to this new environment quickly becomes the least of Shiki’s problems, as he gradually gets caught up in a dangerous web of secrets involving the recent murders in town, the existence of vampires, and a golden-haired maiden who has taken a special liking to our be-speckled protagonist after being brutally murdered by him. Along the way, he’ll meet an ages old being composed of a legion of bloodthirsty beasts living in tandem, a demon-hunting member of the church who vies with the golden-haired maiden for Shiki’s attention, and a dark figure from Shiki’s and Akiha’s past who ties the events of the story together.

Now, as a fairly new Type-Moon fan that had just completed Tsukihime, I’d first like to give my thoughts on Lunar Legend Tsukihime as an adaption. And, as a fairly new Type-Moon fan, I have to say it’s not as bad as the fanbase attests to. Yes, it could have DEFINITELY been better, but it’s not bad enough to dismiss the existence of. As mentioned before, the storyline follows a variation of Arcueid’s route that incorporates elements found in other routes to try to tell as much of Tsukihime’s multi-faceted story in one go. The show is divided into 12 episodes, probably as a nod to the 12 chapter format the game followed. The music, while completely separate from the game’s soundtrack, sounds just as good. The opening is a melodious piece that fits the tone of the series well, the ending is a beautifully melancholic vocal, and the rest of the soundtrack consists of mostly string and piano pieces that set the overall mood of the series quite admirably. As for the characters, they all make an appearance, and at times they act just like their game counterparts.

Yes, “at times.” As in, not all of the time. Though Tsukihime the Anime isn’t as bad as people make it out to be, it’s still a very underwhelming adaption. Heck, it’s a depressingly underwhelming anime series in general.

One thing that made Tsukihime the Visual Novel such a great read was Shiki’s inner monologuing. Whether scared or snarky, Shiki always had an interesting view on the things happening around him that made him the most defined character in the game. No matter what he did, you could at least sympathize with him somewhat, because the narrative let you know who Shiki was and how his thought process worked. You could say that readers of the visual novel got to know Shiki on a personal level, as they descended with him to the edges of madness and violence. Shiki of the Anime, however, loses a lot of that characterization. The anime does away with much of Shiki’s thoughts and angst, and what was once an interesting first-person account of these events becomes a disconnected third-person retelling that forgot to put in what made the main character so endearing. Instead of a being a normal guy with a desire to understand the strange goings-on around him, here Shiki is a normal guy who only seems to be casually observing the events. The viewers don’t get to  experience the story with Shiki; they’re just watching Shiki as he watches events kinda unfold. His dialogue doesn’t really even reveal much of a personality. He acts as if the anime directors kinda took a cursory glance at the original Shiki’s actions made Anime Shiki do some of those things without knowing the original Shiki’s motivations or personality. It’s rather sad, really. If Lunar Legend’s Shiki was handled with an approach similar to what Kyoto Animation would do with The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya’s unreliable narrator, Kyon, maybe fans wouldn’t have disowned the entire series.

The other characters also get a good chunk of their defining characteristics carved out of them. The unusually peppy maid Kohaku and her stoic sister Hisui have their tragic back-stories excised entirely. Much of the information regarding the Shinsou (True Ancestor) and Shito (Dead Apostle) vampires is removed. The fight scene with Nvrnsqr, which could have been made into an episode within itself, was horribly abridged into the last few minutes of an early episode, completely nerfing what had once been one of the most powerful and unsettling characters in the story. Also, do you remember what triggers Shiki’s inversion impulse? Apparently, neither does the anime. Nope, Shiki’s sudden urge to kill things isn’t explained in this adaption, and that’s only one of the plot-holes this anime creates for itself.

The new character designs are something I didn’t really care for, but I won’t bash too much. The characters look a little stretched out vertically, giving them a somewhat more realistic look than the rounded, bug-eyed faces we usually get in anime.  It’s quite different from Takashi Takeuchi’s more anime-esque work, but I’ve found that some actually prefer the new look.  Really, it’s all a matter of preference.

Okay, so it’s a pretty bad adaption. However, one might ask if Lunar Legend Tsukihime is at least a good anime. Sadly though, I can’t even say that much for the show. The animation itself involves surprisingly little animation. There are plenty of panning shots of static pictures and background, but the characters themselves are usually nothing more than heads that flap their mouths and occasionally move a limb. You don’t see them doing much walking or moving through the series, and while it doesn’t look glaringly bad, it does give a sense of apathy and laziness on the animators’ part.

For a vampire anime, one would expect more blood, combat, and… well, a lot more than the constant exposition fest this anime frequently delves into. There are about maybe 2 and a half fight scenes in the course of the show, and they are just way too short. The goriest scenes from the visual novel are just sorta relegated to really dark off-screen shots of blood. Even the romantic build-up between Shiki and Arcueid just kinda feels shoehorned onto the last few episodes, as if the writers remembered that they were doing Arcueid’s route halfway through production. Yeah, the visual novel didn’t have much going for it in terms of action, but it had a great narrative and setting to offset it. Lunar Legend Tsukihime just doesn’t. It’s a vampire story that had potential with its interesting concepts and nice music, but was ultimately hampered with boring characters and lifeless animation.

After watching the credits of the 12th episode, I felt a deep sadness within me. As of this writing, the Tsukihime anime is one of the only ways people in the US are able to officially experience Type-Moon’s classic (the other being the manga adaption, which I hear is better somewhat), and its just so underwhelming that I feel many anime fans will look upon the name Tsukihime and think of one of the most boring vampire animes in recent history. It especially irks me that other Type-Moon works, specifically Fate/Stay Night and Kara no Kyokai got supposedly decent anime adaptions, while Tsukihime gets stuck with this pile of blandness. I wanted to say J.C. Staff at least tried to fit a visual novel with 5 different story paths and 10 endings into one 12-episode anime covering one path, but the lackluster animation seems to speak to the contrary. All in all, as much as I love Tsukihime the visual novel, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend Tsukihime the anime. Granted, it’s not a completely terrible waste of time, but it may be more banal than what most are comfortable with. If you haven’t read the visual novel, go ahead and watch the anime if you’re curious.  Just don’t let the glacial pace of the anime convince you that the source material is no good.

Tiger-Heli

Released: December 5, 1986
Developed by: Toaplan/Micronics
Published by: Pony Canyon (Japan) / Acclaim (US/Europe)
System: Family Computer / NES

There comes a time in every critic’s career where the thing being reviewed must be compared to a hypothetical member of the opposite sex. I don’t know why this is so, but analogies often illustrate better than just random gushing and bashing. And since relationships are a widely understood concept, comparing a game to a girl you may or may not have known in the past may reveal more about the game than just a list of facts and opinions.

Well, I guess I do know why this is so, huh?

For me, Tiger-Heli is that one girl you really like in elementary school even before the notion of hormones ever enter your prepubescent mind. You know, the one who shared interests with you and secretly thought was awesome, so you stalked her and her friends on the playground, hoping she’d return your sentiments. But she never did, because she thought you were a creeper and a dick. Which you were. Dick.

But then, something happened and you two never saw each other for years and years. Finally, about your sophomore year in High School, she suddenly reappears in your life. Now, by this time you’ve found other girls to stalk. By now, you know the proverbial sea of fishes and the many wonders and atrocities it holds. You’ve seen air-headed girls with pretty faces,  modest bookworms of all proportions, drama queens desperate for attention, talky types, loners, promiscuous ones, big monsters with attitude, etc. But anyway, the one from childhood returns in your life and you notice something right away. She hasn’t changed much since then. She still shares some interests with you, but she seems to have not developed much in terms of feminine beauty and emotional maturity. She acts like a kid, uses almost no common sense, disregards manners entirely, and often trails off on her own unorganized thoughts. As far as proportions go, she’s quite modest, almost unremarkable even. But she doesn’t seem to concerned with looks anyhow, as it’s apparent she does little to pretty herself up compared to other women. She finds trappings like makeup, nail polish, and hairstyles to be too impractical and “conformist.” In other words, she’s got some tomboyish qualities and cares nothing about the others around her.

Tiger-Heli is kinda like that. Made as a port of an earlier Arcade game, it’s a plain-Jane shoot-em-up starring an unnamed helicopter against some military force with apparently no air attacking power. Yes, while this game does have the occasional destructible fighter jet, there are absolutely no flying targets in the game. That’s no problem. though, because the myriad of tanks you’ll be facing are plenty capable of shooting you out of the sky. And they will try their darnedest to kill you, assaulting you without warning from all directions, firing a round at you as quick as they can line their barrels up. To assist you on your quest for destruction are your trusty side bombs, which can either be deployed manually or activated by being hit with enemy fire, and two types of mini-copters that can be picked up as power-ups to defend your flanks. There’s the red copter which fires sideways, and a gray copter that fires forward. Both can also be taken out by enemy fire, providing brief yet useful cover while they last. There are also little red boxes that occasionally appear throughout the landscape. Destroy 10 of these, and you get an extra life. The game consists of 4 stages and no ending, as the last stage merely loops to a harder 2nd after completion.

And that’s Tiger-Heli. The music is kinda there, the graphics are rather nondescript and flickery, and the game is quite bare-bones even by this point in time. But when I had first laid eyes on it many years ago, at a daycare I used to attend in summers long past, I thought it looked like a cool game. You got to be this neat helicopter that just went around, blowing up tanks, boats, and even the houses of unsuspecting civilians! Admittedly, the NES was outdated by even then, and I was born and raised with the Super Nintendo, but I certainly had no complaint with the graphics of Tiger-Heli then. The game must have been my first vertical-scrolling shooter, as I thought the graphics looked pretty darn nice, especially the oddly textured water and trees, and those civilian buildings that could be blown up. I mean, heck, you could blow up people’s houses, and you were awarded for it! With Points! That kind of crap just blew my mind back then, being raised on the family-friendly Mario and Donkey Kong stuff prior to then. You were never awarded for terrorism in those games.

About a couple of years prior to the present day, I picked up this game at a local Game Crazy with memories of that NES deck the Daycare had. I had since become more acquainted with better shoot-em-ups, but I thought the game held up as a time killer sufficiently. Granted, it wasn’t the phenomenal helicopter game I remembered from my youth, but I liked it nonetheless. This sentiment holds true for me even today, though I know now for sure that it will never be revered in my heart as much as I had a long time ago. Like the purely hypothetical childhood friend that reappears during your high school years, Tiger-Heli just hasn’t really held up all that well. In fact, removing the rose-tinted goggles of nostalgia, I could argue that the game is actually rather mediocre. I mean, since our last encounter, I’ve since met the creative and charming Gradius, who may not be the sharpest of the bunch, but she’s a daring little sweetheart who likes to experiment now and then. She can get to be annoying, and she’s known to be kinda slow at times, but she’s always a pleasant sight to behold. Then there’s Tiger-Heli’s older sister*, Zanac, who’s quick-witted, funny, and quite beautiful. She’s awfully observant and enjoys being a little snarky at times, but her intelligent nature ultimately promotes her outward beauty. I guess what I’m trying to say is, while Tiger-Heli’s still cool with me and all, she’s unfortunately overshadowed by her contemporaries in almost all respects. She’ll still hold a special place in my heart, but I’ll never be able to put her up on a pedestal like I did those many years ago.
(* As noted before, Tiger-Heli was licensed by Pony Canyon in Japan, who had released Zanac one week before.)

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