- The Last Express (DOS)
Maniac Mansion (NES)
Lemmings (GEN)
Metroid Fusion (GBA)
LOOM (ScummVM)
Tetris (GB)
Resident Evil: Code Veronica (PS2)
Ultima III: Exodus (NES)
Where in America's Past is Carmen Sandiego? (DOS)
StarTropics (NES)
I got a bit fixated on
StarTropics these past few days and wound up finishing it tonight. I'm trying to decide how I should describe the experience. "Quirky" comes to mind, but doesn't quite cover it. I mean, I really enjoyed it, but it's just
so bizarre, and I'm trying to understand how a big part of why I loved it is that I felt like it was punching me in the arm the whole time. Does that make any sense? Well, it makes about as much sense as the game itself does -- so I guess the two of us were truly meant to be after all.
Playing this game is to get the distinct impression you're seeing the 1990s American childhood experience as understood by Japanese developers, then translated back into English. It's using Babelfish to turn English into Japanese into English, but instead of words you're using culture. I firmly believe that excellent grad school dissertations could be written on it.
I have never seen something that has wanted to be a Saturday morning cartoon more badly than
StarTropics -- not even some Saturday morning cartoons. You've got your cool kid toy doubling as your deadly weapon (a yo-yo), random trademark foods that are treated as if they're hilarious when they're a recurring theme (banana cream pies anyone?!), cool non-parent relatives doing cool secret science, aliens, plot beats that feel like they're supposed to be heavy but have literally no lore behind them, McGuffins that you (of course!) have to collect and combine into something without knowing what or why... and P.S., almost everything is a reference to soda. It's fascinating.
As for the gameplay, I got seriously hooked. Even when I was frustrated I never actually wanted to stop playing. The dungeon parts are much more puzzley than
The Legend of Zelda, and I loved this, although I do have a bone to pick with how often the game groomed you into certain expectations just to subvert them in an attempt to make you pull your hair out. As a quick example, hidden paths through walls had a tell early on in the game that the designers decided to forego later on. And I don't mean paths that lead to optional stuff; I mean necessary paths. Sure, you will probably always find what you need one way or another... but you'll spend a half hour barking up the wrong tree and dying repeatedly before you realize how mistaken you were. And again, this is just one example. Oh boy do I have more.
What was nice was that when you knew the rooms' tricks you could blast through pretty quickly to where you died your last death, but redoing certain sections did get tiring. This was especially the case when the part handing you your butt had you exclaiming at the television, "What am I even supposed to DO here?"
My point is... this game gets under your skin in a good way. I would groan and mutter light insults at the instadeaths and trickery, but I never felt any real animosity toward it. It was like a sibling playing pranks on you. At first you're surprised, then annoyed, but then you decide despite yourself that it was ridiculous enough to be weirdly endearing. Mostly.
I was always delightfully befuddled by the writing, happy about making progress, and endlessly singing along with the stellar jams. Would I recommend it? Yep -- as both a wacky study in media presentation and a strange assortment of gameplay mechanics.