Retrokick – Earthbound

It’s been a while since the last Retrokick. I know, almost two months since my last headlong collision with the saccharine walls of my childhood. Shocking. Discontented pensioners should be collecting at the end of my road, locked in hushed discussion about my sudden living in the moment, allowing only the occasional “Oh I know” and, “Absolutely appalling” to waft its way through my perpetually ajar window. But to tell you the truth, the switch-up’s quite…bracing, it turns out.

I was hit, however, by a particularly strong waft of blast-from-the-pastitude after rewatching Rob Reiner’s 1987 film Stand By Me. Dark, folkish, wayward with a discernible maturity, the King adaptation has always held amongst my top coming-of-age films. And despite Ape Inc’s Earthbound attracting most of its praise from its satirical nature, it’s very much a game that instilled that same juvenile precocity when I locked buttons with the 1994 RPG after it launched on Nintendo’s Virtual Console.

Earthbound might for me be an endearing, refreshingly witty JRPG, but it’s also incredibly relevant today. Gaming and self consciousness has attracted more in-depth discussion currently than has ever been, and the reflexivities of Metal Gear Solid, The Stanley Parable, Undertale and most recently Daniel Mullins’ Pony Island, have had their hands in developing gaming not just as a form of entertainment, but one of creative expression.

And considering that all this has happened in very recent years  (Pony Island only having released two months ago), it’s rather innovative ( not to mention brave) of Ape Inc. to have produced a concept so fresh and challenging as Earthbound.


As the second in the now-cult-favourite Mother series, Earthbound‘s very inception could very easily have been canned. The Mother series was dreamt up by one of Japan’s top slogan writers, Shigesato Itoi, whose advertising line for Seibu Department Store remains one of most prominent in the Japanese advertising industry. As well as landing a voice acting role in My Neighbour Totoro, Itoi had co-written songs with the Oscar-wining Ryuichi Sakamoto and a collection of short stories with Haruki Murakami, who just so happened to be one of the country’s best loved contemporary writers.


Actually, I don’t remember this self-proclaimed ‘photographic genius’ giving Ness the pictures. Did he just stalk a young gang of children, obsessively capturing their adventures?

Understandably, Nintendo eventually approached him in 1987 to write the slogan for one of its games. Itoi, however, agreed on the condition that they allow him to pitch his idea for his own video game: Mother. Despite his creative portfolio, however, Itoi was turned away by the company’s best known developer, Shigeru Miyamoto, as a high-profile games enthusiast, rather than an artistic prospective designer. It was only later that Itoi recovered his chances. Itoi was called back by Miyamoto, having been instructed by Nintendo CEO Hiroshi Yamauchi to inform the seminal sloganer (whom Yamauchi heavily respected) that his idea had been successful.

Mother’s success continued, too, selling nearly 500,000 copies in Japan. After a sequel was planned, Itoi set to work with Kirby’s HAL Laboratory, and suffered technical difficulties to say the very least. Earthbound was worked for four years, and after multiple developmental set-backs, the remarkable Satoru Iwata was brought in to lend his development expertise.
And of course, here Mother 2 is. It was finished, and released in Japan in 1994, a year later in the US as Earthbound. Of all things, the ambitious SNES title was advertised through the olfactory medium of the scratch-n-sniff.

Those cards of what can only be described as compressed death, that all too often laced the underside of your fingernails with eau de rotten egg, or something equally repulsive. It evoked curiosity, but together with slogans like “Earthbound. It’s like living inside your gym shoes” and “Earthbound. The first Role-Playing Game with BO”, adverts didn’t offer much in the way of enticement, even if the satire within the game’s description was markedly apparent. The game’s cheery art style wasn’t held highly in the States either, and along with its vague marketing campaign, Earthbound struck both as unfashionable and unpromising at the time. Quite ironic considering the huge success of the similarly styled Pokémon Red and Blue only two years later, with no graphical criticisms in sight.

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Earthbound‘s narrative strikes initially as a nod to the coming-of age film. Ness, the incurably inquisitive protagonist of this double-sided adventure is woken one night by a meteor landing, and obviously feels compelled to check it out. The id of the child. Upon discovering that the fallen chunk of rock now native to his back garden is rather the vessel of powerful spacebeing named Buzz Buzz (because of course he is), Ness learns that his idyllic 1960’s hometown is under invasion by intergalactic warlord, Giygas, who intends to enslave the Earth. What ensues is a shared quest between a psychic girl, a firearm-handy genius, a perpetually-frowning distant prince, and an incredibly determined young man, as they traverse various cities and civilisations to thwart Giygas and save the Earth. An average plot, but communicated with remarkable boldness and even bolder flair. A shame, considering its self-effacing marketing struck as little more than a cheap joke.

The quaintly tiled visuals might’ve been unimpressive for the SNES, but where the anterior Secret of Mana and Illusion of Gaia opted more for *proportionate character design, Earthbound’s visual predilections assume instead a decidedly Charlie Brown direction. As I guided my motley crew of children across Halloween-party ghost towns and strange cults lead by paintbrush-headed townsfolk, the knee-bobbing piano licks of Peanuts hummed reminiscently at the back of my mind.


Much of the humour in Earthbound stems from its observation of a world where kids appear to run the show. Not in a despotic, We Need to Talk About Kevin way, for adults certainly aren’t lacking, or much controlled. They just don’t care as much as we might expect them to. Against Earthbound‘s waggish crayon art style furthermore, it’s not just noticeable – it’s startlingly funny.

Your own mother tells you to ‘Go for it!’ as you embark on your adventure with no certainty of return, because she knows you’ll just defy her anyway – as is the instinctual impudence of any gamer. She also knows you’re playing a game, as does seemingly everyone in Eagleton, many of whom occasionally let the illusion of this Trumanesque world to slip every now and then, with its smarting jabs towards at the player and gaming traditions. Honesty is Earthbound‘s driving characteristic, and given reflexivity in gaming has only started to trend recently, you can imagine this drove quite the rift between the peculiar SNES title and…well, just about every JRPG going at the time.

And it wasn’t just a distinctive quality that made Earthbound notable. Whilst there was nothing quite like Earthbound at the time, its wryly literal humour and deceptively Utopic art style has since fed through into a plethora of other games, both within and beyond the realms of Nintendo. Majora’s Mask, Animal Crossing, Retro City Rampage are just a few titles that revelled afterwards in intentional kookiness, and there’s a little more than a mere taste of Earthbound in all of them. Heck, it even inspired South Park: The Stick of Truth. The game as a foundation for quirkier titles cannot be overlooked, and whilst the form is somewhat taken for granted nowadays, back in 1994, it was a huge risk for APE to take. I’m ultimately glad they took it. I bet Miyamoto is too.

Dungeon Dev

Beneath its smarting, referential tone and beguiling writing though, Earthbound is a relatively standard turn-based RPG. You can attack, defend and use consumables to regenerate health, as well as equip a variety of weapons in between enemy attacks. Levelling up and increasing character health and strength is noticeably easier than in other RPG’s, with experience points being awarded voluminously, even for reasonably straight-forward encounters.

I’ve never been one for turn-based combat, but battles with some of the weaker, yet more persistent enemies often felt unnecessarily drawn out. I found myself resorting to the ‘AUTO’ function after one too many Runaway Dog encounters, and since most opponents possess idiosyncacies and tendencies, this leaves combat feeling predictable, monotonous and occasionally mundane. The original’s lack of save points could also become frustrating; throw in as many quirkily-penned lines as you like, when you’re constantly oscillating between your next big location and finding a damned hotel to save your progress, gameplay can feel restricted by just how time-consuming this transpires to be.
Fortunately (or perhaps not, considering the power of first impressions), most of these instances occur early on, and gradually sputter out as the story develops.


Something I really did appreciate, as a veritable un-frequenter of turn-based bashing, however, was Earthbound’s neglect of random encounters. I’ve always felt interrupted at the prospect of random encounters in an RPG, so much so that Pokémon regrettably continues to be one of the most unnecessarily frustrating games I’ve ever played. But allowing enemies to be visible whilst exploring the battle ground aided Earthbound’s pacing unanimously, even including the option to outrun larger enemies should Ness’s health dip too low.

Another favourite quirk of mine is its constant mockery of the empowered player. Rub a possessed toadstool the wrong way and it might just muss up your control scheme, leaving Ness floundering freely into rocks, trees and all manner of townsfolk as you try earnestly to control him. And don’t worry, it’ll leave you just long enough to suss things out before inevitably re-muddling it all over again.

Earthbound never really lacks originality or character, it’s more the issue of design and technical issues clouding its kooky charms. Amongst the most beguiling is its soundtrack; a peppy, rosy-cheeked, shoulder-twitching, nostalgia-rousing chipset collection that often does as much to reference underlying themes as the words of its odd little folk.

Mini Barf

As I mentioned earlier, it does try its best to be honest with you. Beneath the boppy muzack symphony lies a darker, suspended set of notes; ones that escape every now and then to merely hint that there could be something deeper going on. Today, I’m oddly reminded of the static interruptions and bassy monotones of David Fincher’s Fight Club, although that particular dose of satire didn’t come till ’99.

But alas, playing Earthbound for any of these things alone is a little like watching JJ Abrams’ Super Eight just for the aliens. It’s the wider awarness that makes it. Not just within genre and archetype references, but of the communities that thrive within those genres and know those archetypes well. Earthbound still retains, for the most part (although the Toby Foxotrons, Foxlings, or whatever else they may or may not like to be referred to have since turned to enjoy the delights of Undertale’s influential Daddy), something of a cult status. As of this moment, it’s still incredibly niche, but given its recent release on Nintendo’s Virtual Console (and I have a sneaking suspicion the aforementioned skeleton-dating sim partially influenced that) and the increasing vocality around commentative video games, Earthbound could enjoy some- I think quite deserved – post-millenial praise.


*considering the visual constraints of the SNES era and the technological advancement consoles and PC has seen since, it can be problematic to claim either game was particularly or remarkably proportionate, but we’ll keep the comparison here between SNES games to avoid any unwarranted or potentially violent eventualities.


A Link Between Worlds – Possibly the Best Handheld Zelda Game

Zelda, as a whole, is a series I never seem to tire of. As noticeable, distinctive and overtly recognisable the games are, hearing the sprightly trills of The Lost Woods or the assertive jingle of a solved puzzle – no matter how many times I might’ve heard it – gets me as worked up as a caffeinated cucco. So much so, indeed, that I spent two years of my youth sipping beverages almost exclusively from a jar. But although my days of milk-sipping have passed, I look back on the Zelda franchise with an excitement that never appears to waver. Consequently, it’s games like A Link Between Worlds that reassure me that Nintendo are determined to keep the series fresh, and despite its ultimately nostalgic tone, this portable release trumped Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks for flair, character and novelty.

Link Between Worlds Zora Queen

It Knows How to Laugh

From the very beginning, it’s clear to see where Link Between Worlds’ allegiances lie. Overlooking a vibrant 3D rendition of Hyrule’s original design, visuals are the very first to surprise, with wry little nods to previous games surging beneath its newfangled surface. From the original Zelda soundtrack thundering along to your adventures to the unassuming Majora’s Mask hanging in your room, A Link Between Worlds is as just as in love with the series as its fans, whilst distancing itself enough to keep gameplay fresh and innovative.

The story revolves around the main antagonist Yuga, a warlock of amusing evil with a discernible penchant for classic art. After having transformed Link to the Past’s Seven Sages into Romanesque paintings, the revered Hero of Time is called upon once again to free them to defeat Yuga, and thwart his intent to reanimate the unmistakable Beast King, Ganon.

Despite his mostly top-down portrayal, Yuga maintains a scrumptiously wicked facade, and over my time with A Link Between Worlds, I found myself laughing aloud whenever the. It’s plain to see that Nintendo had had a more jovial tone in mind than to say, Majora’s Mask or Twilight Princess, and with campy humour on full-throttle, I found coming to Link Between Worlds from some of the darker or tenser games a positive breath of fresh air.

Link Between Worlds Yuga

It Tickles Your Nostalgia

The art style offers a refreshing contemporary spin on the original, top down Hyrule; something that roots A Link Between Worlds more with the original series than its Wind Waker-esque counterparts of Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks. As a result, Link Between Worlds felt more like a Zelda game than previous handheld titles – and it’s noticeably more memorable because of it.

Troutish Zora and galumphing moblins all make their reprise in Link Between Worlds, and in fully polygonal form. It’s a joy to watch the foes of my original conquests sprawling about in glorious 3D; even if lock-on and aiming issues still persist, and Link’s elegant, portrait form conjures warm memories of the sprite that housed his original Hylian spirit.

Even if you’re not into the series, it’s a game that represents a variety and ingenuity that first appealed in the Zelda games, allowing it to stand perfectly accessible to series newcomers. From generous pepperings of recognisable Teklites and Sandcrabs, to Hyrule castle’s portraits peering upon the origins of Link himself, A Link Between Worlds respectfully homages its own history, whilst proffering to newcomers a stylish looking-glass into the nostalgic history its ancestors created.

Link Between Worlds Ganon artwork

It’s as Freeing as a Nude Summer Walk

Amidst non-portable ravings over The Witcher 3’s rollicking exploration and Far Cry Primal’s paleolithic expanses, A Link Between Worlds evokes a similar freedom that’s rarely done so well in a handheld title. With no official markers or routes pointing the way, you’re left free to explore the luxurious stretches of Hyrule, adopting ample amounts of Link to the Past’s inquisitive charm.

This being said, this certainly isn’t a mere respectful reboot; the introduction of new systems and strategies invoke a remarkable freshness to A Link Between Worlds’ gameplay. You’re flippantly badgered by Ravio, a bunny-hooded salesman who offers a range of secondary weapons to use at your discretion. You can opt, fo 50 rupees, to rent an item, which must be re-rented once Link dies, or purchase it for upwards of 800. Whilst occasionally you might need to postpone your pursuit of illustrious potions to fund your rented inventory, rupees are abundant enough in Link Between Worlds to ensure the practice doesn’t become grindsome, and the eventual chance to buy a selection of weapons makes level traversal more varied, interesting and ultimately liberating than perhaps it ever has.

A Link Between Worlds’ main gimmick is the Merge mechanic. In this installment, Link can spiritually fuse with numerous walls in the game, allowing the player to edge fluidly . The ease with which merging is made possible opens up new ways to confront discovered territories and across the course of the game, merging becomes less optional accessory, more second-nature. This is made especially admirable by the game’s complimentary level design. Worlds are constructed to conceal hidden treasure, items or realms; so much so that melting into walls becomes as reflexive and as engaging as simply using one’s average, Hylian legs.

Link Between Worlds Portrait

There’s no clear-cut way to clear a palace or wander a dungeon (a notion merging seems to cement), and although puzzles have defined solutions, you’re more than welcome to find other ways to nab keys and unlock chests. For example, a cavern that has you using cuccos to glide safely onto platforms is just as easily navigable – if not more so – by breaking out the Tornado Rod to use instead. Instead of taking intricate tours of mountain surfaces in painting form, you can Hookshot your way unto glory. And treasure.

Another prime difference between A Link Between Worlds and its referenced grandfathers is that secondary weapons can be used infinitely. Whilst prior games had the player scouring the land for ammo or rupees once supplies began to run dry, your only restriction here is the ‘energy bar’, which is depleted each time a weapon is used and takes only a brief time to regenerate. It cut out what often drew me away from past games; I sighed at the notion of annoying fetch quests, and the prospect of scrounging with all my might to gather oh-so-precious bombs began to make me feel ever so slightly woozy. There’s a lot more time to explore in Link Between Worlds because of this, and ultimately it’s the least compromised fun I’ve had with a portable Zelda title.

link between worlds hookshot.jpg

It’s Still Zelda, Just Fluffier

I suppose the risk with such a game as A Link Between Worlds is its comparison to the titles it homages. And when doing so, you’re inevitably going to find a few snags. Despite the undeniable beauty of A Link Between Worlds’ vibrant, polygonal world, the sense of majesty I felt trudging the realms of A Link to the Past was noticeably blunted. Of course, the previous angularities of the S/NES sprite are considered obsolete in terms of new Zelda games, but their efficacy at creating a foreboding atmosphere was something that greatly intensified the grace and mystery of the originals, in addition to their innovative features. Whilst there’s certainly no shortage of clever mechanics, intricate design and challenging boss battles in A Link Between Worlds, it’s all decidedly cute, and the softened world somewhat undermined the primitive danger Hyrule possessed prior.

Link to the Past boss

Commendably Caught Between Worlds

Luckily, rarely is Zelda a game enjoyed for visuals alone, and the game’s merits lie far beyond its superficial design. A reverent hark back to its admired predecessors, it’s a game that flaunts its roots whilst striving to build upon the open, freeing conventions the Zelda series forged for itself. Proffering a storyline with uncompromising humour, A Link Between Worlds bursts with the same hallmark sense of character that rendered me incalculably enchanted by Zelda in the first place, albeit with a lighter heart and a sharper grin.



Edit from many, many years in the future: I played Link’s Awakening. Yeah. We need to talk.

The WakuWafu and Starlight Blogger Awards

Well, paint me orange and call me Crash, there’s a snippet of loveliness to start the day.

Indeed, upon prying open the onyx jaws of my pop-up endowed laptop, I found that I’d been nominated for The Wakuwafu and Starlight Blogger Awards.

And given by none other than SilencekilledtheDinosaurs – a tremendous storyteller that never fails to slap a big ol’ grin on my face; not least because of her use of chucklesome sketches to project the crooks and meanders of daily life, whether grounded and contemplative or darkly amusing.

So, without further ado, here are the rules of The Wakuwafu Award:

wakuwafuaward1. Thank the person who has nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  1. 2. Choose any 3 things you would like to say about yourself to your fellow bloggers.
  2. 3. Think up 3 questions you would like to ask the people you nominate.
  3. Give one piece of advice to your fellow bloggers.
  4. 4. Make sure to tell us over here ( that you have been nominated (and/or completed the award) so that we can put your blog up on the wakuwafu page! Make sure to put down your blog in the comments section!

The Starlight Blogger rules are:starlight-blogger-award

  1. Thank the giver and link to their blog in your post.
  2.  Answer the 3 questions given to you.
  3. Please pass the award on to 6 or more other bloggers of your choice and let them know that they have been nominated.
  4.  Include the logo of the award in a post or on your blog. Please never alter the logo and never change the rules.


I won’t lie, I do feel like I’m being interviewed a bit, and it’s got me excitable as an adolescent Springer Spaniel.

Questions asked by SilencekilledtheDinosaurs:

If you could wake up tomorrow anywhere in the world, where would that be?

New Zealand. Never have I been so astounded by a country’s natural beauty. Apart from Antarctica, but I don’t suppose I’d be waking up as such if I was ethereally teleported there during the night.

Although, coming from The Home of the Repressed, Land of Evasive Eye Contact (alias, England), the friendliness I’ve heard to permeate the place might come as a bit of a shock. Delightful, but a shock.

As for what I’d do there, I’d be plodding around like a vivacious hobbit, gawking at all the cinematically familiar pastures of Piopio and Matamata, inexplicably drawing attention to my innate touristyness.

You are granted one wish, but it is a cursed wish and there is a 50% chance that it will go awfully wrong in some way. Do you make the wish, and if so, what do you wish for?

I’m off to University at the end of the year, so I suppose I’d wish for it to be a grand period of self-development.

That way, if it did go awfully wrong in some forebodingly ambiguous way, I’d be comforted with the notion that, to some extent, that’s what University is all about, and others are probably going through it too.

What’s your favourite joke? If you don’t have a favourite joke just tell a good one. Or a terrible one. Sometimes terrible jokes are better than good jokes.

I recently discovered the sort of terribly corny joke that demands immediate expression to a friend. Here goes nothing:

“Knock Knock”

“Who’s there?”

“Your delay”

“Your delay who?”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could yodel”

I both apologise to and thank you.

And The Nominees Are…

Below are some of the blogs I enjoy reading. This choice does not reflect a ‘favourite’ system, but writings that impressed and inspired me this year, that I feel deserve attention.

Space Fuelled Gaming – Reviews and editorials concerning games and the industry; an enthusiastic discussion.

ParticleBit – Informative features on the world of gaming, as well as confident reviews.

A World of Weird – Wittily penned thoughts on films, games and novels that aren’t always well-known. Much horror often ensues, and it’s thoroughly entertaining.

Serialhobbyiste – A new, analytical blog that raises interesting interpretations surrounding game and film elements.

EIGHT BIT – A collection of reviews, news and college thoughts, with an inviting, casual tone. Have a look at these three reasons you should watch Cowboy Bebop .

Updownright – A games blog that continues to demonstrate a dedication shared between three contributors, revolving around informative features, analysis and achievement-hunting tirades.

I Will Now Interrogate You Thrice Over

  1. Which fictional reality would you be happiest living out the rest of your days in?
  2. Which person do you respect most? Can be fictional or real, known personally or not. You also don’t have to necessarily like them.
  3. What made you want to start blogging, and what’ve your experiences been like so far?

And Now…

According to WakuWafu, I am now to give you all some advice. Given my harbouring a PlayStation infatuation that twenty years ago might’ve been deemed ‘unhealthy’ (but can now be understood as ‘passionate’), I thought it only right to approach this as I might approach Bloodborne.

Run in and hack, slash and roll with all you have, because the enemy’s rarely scarier than what your mind’s anticipating. And each always has a weakness, however damn unforgiving.

bloodborne spider

I mean, there must be a few exceptions, but right now I can’t think of any…

A new review will be up within the coming week. Typing away like a clockwork stenographer as we speak.

Retrokick – Monster Hunter Freedom Unite

Alas, Monster Hunter. The game I always turned to whenever I felt small. A world I didn’t necessarily topple into in order to feel massive because, if anything, its menagerie of formidable Wyverns and flatulent Conga habitually bludgeoned into virtually negative hit points. But what was so appealing about the Monster Hunter games was the assertion that one didn’t have to be massive in order to face smothering odds, and that brute force was a mere tool at the disposal of style and methodology.

mhfu popo1

Monster Hunter Freedom Unite  was the hopeful enhanced edition of prior action-rpg, Monster Hunter Freedom 2. The Western Monster Hunter games were ported from the second Monster Hunter for the PlayStation 2, which never reached outside of Japan. After a modest reception on larger consoles, Capcom decided to translate the franchise onto portable devices, and Freedom Unite received a Western PSP release in 2009.

And in a restricted sense, it worked. Very well, in fact. Freedom Unite was a veritable hit in Japan, with a million copies sold in the first day. Western reception, on the other hand, was, and continues to be, comparatively dry.

mhfu pokke What little story Freedom Unite possesses is simple. Lone, insipient hunter you are, your exploits in the snow-capped mountains fall short with the prompt arrival of the Tigrex, an enormous wyvern adorned with orange-blue stripes. After a brief battle segment you are rendered unconscious, awakening in the parochial village of Pokke. Weakened, but before the straightforward path unto Monster Hunter glory.

However, in Freedom Unite, the line between ‘straightforward’ and ‘easy’ has never been more stark.

A large part of what there is to love about Freedom Unite lies in its stunning visuals. Expansive maps are comprised of craggy mountaintops, tropical jungles and punishing desert territory, all of which are home to highly specialised – and highly lethal – monsters.

mhfu cephadrome

Your timely rendezvous with the notorious Tigrex opens up an unforgiving world of hulking, fanged gorrillas, subterranean manta-worms and paralysing super-wasps. The tally of things that can kill you in Freedom Unite is vast, and its diversity has come to be a hallmark of the Monster Hunter series.

Ventures are punctuated with smaller, peace-loving beings too, however – and from the passive mammoth creatures, the Popo, to the nippy anthropomorphic Felyne race, the prehistoric world of Freedom Unite breathes with every alcove. And it’s truly beautiful – however ambiguous and terrifying – to behold.

The village of Pokke constitutes your base of operations for your monster hunting antics; a place where you can buy armour, farm and stock up on provisions for the treacherous path ahead. Whilst the purpose of the village is more administrative than anything else, the atmosphere of Pokke is one of rustic coziness; a warm, welcoming lull after hours of beastly galavanting.

You can also have a pig. With a crown.
mhfu pig

Freedom Unite possessed a combat system that has since been refined by the Souls games, boasting gargantuan foes with equally dessimating attacks. Weapons are extravagant but equally taxing to handle, making calculating one’s moves imperative, as one ill-timed roll or wonky swing could very well send you reeling into the cold clutches of oblivion, lending greatly to the game’s challenge level.

It’s also remarkably satisfying to watch your character prancing about Pokke with all the vaulting vigor of an incredibly pent-up Freudian.

Whilst, in retrospect, there are similarities between Capcom and From Software’s creations, Freedom Unite still achieves a very personal uncertainty as to what waits around the next corner, and with the looming prospect of randomly spawning beasts over unrelated missions, the sense of danger remains as fresh today as it did then. As a result, Freedom Unite‘s world – six years on – still appears very much alive.

The life of Freedom Unite extends beyond the single player experience, and its online play system is often the reason some return to the game. The PlayStation Ad Hoc Party function allowed four PSP and PS3 owners to team up and brave true titans of beasts, which, considering the tough single player tussles, amounted to a more balanced and deeply involving battle experience. Admittedly, Ad Hoc practice is relatively thin nowadays, but Monster Hunter’s capacity for camaraderie endures to this day, surfacing in the more recent 3DS titles.

mhfu battle

This being said, the series is a gem with some very distinct blemishes. Freedom Unite is certainly no exception, with clunky combat manoevres and esoteric gameplay explanations overlooking some of the game’s truly beautiful aspects.

Capcom’s inefficacy at explaining the game to newcomers has filtered into the series’ overall reception, which has only hindered its reputation. Battle tutorials take the form of exhaustive dialogue segments, which, especially when so adamantly placed at the beginning of the game, makes Freedom Unite difficult to really jump into. The interface is particularly elusive, designating a weighty ‘start up time’ to Freedom Unite to merely learn its navigation. Rest assured, Freedom Unite isn’t a game you can play in your lunch break.

Combat movements are slow, leaving the player vulnerable to hits against large groups of enemies. Healing said hits are no picnic either, and last a positive age, requiring the player to distance themselves from the action in order to heal and evade failure, which isnt’ always easy when there’s a litter of raving Giaprey on your behind.

The champion ailment in Freedom Unite, however, is its wonky camera controls. The camera is unintuitive and lacks precision; often requiring manual adjustment via the D-pad’s left and right. This unnecessarily complicates combat situations, and strikes as particularly archaic with retrospect.

mhfu giadome

Freedom Unite takes a risk-reward decision with quests, but it doesn’t always serve the game well. Particularly bountiful quests will eventually ask the player to pay in-game ‘Z’ currency to progress, which can prove harsh on beginners. Each time you fall in battle, your pay is docked, which found me continually out-of-pocket before unlocking the next set of adventures. Previous quests must then be re-done or useful crafting items sold, again touching on that prehistoric sense of the nomadic, but proving incredibly repetitive in the process.

The lasting mundanity in a game with such epic moments is unfortunate, and seems to have affected the series overall. Monster Hunter sustains a reputation for heavy grinding and steep learning curves – something that perpetuates the series’ still rather niche audience.
But as I always say, there’s more to life than a good old grind. I’ve said it at least twice, anyway.

mhfu beach

Freedom Unite’s glorious soundtracks remains one of my favourite things about the game. An orchestral treasure, Freedom Unite‘s soundtrack offers a score of epics to tap into the soul of the hunter. Each boss revels in its own operatic theme, scopic hikes are mellifluously resonant, and many humorous inflections are taken to brighten the mood. There is a distinct sense of majesty exuding Freedom Unite‘s soundtrack, and alongside its towering behemouths and lush landscapes – it’s certainly a game that sounds as good as it looks.

Freedom Unite is a rewarding game, but only when studied extensively. The stringent control scheme and haphazard camera controls make the combat significantly more difficult, and possibly contributed to the game’s poor Western sales. This being said, Freedom Unite proffers a level of immersion uncommon for a PSP title, and its hefty challenge has gathered something of a cult following.
mhfu tigrex

In the wake of Freedom Unite and its predecessors, further entries have built upon the world of the hunter, and with the fourth installment proving more accessible than any other in the series, the Monster Hunter following is timidly – very timidly –  expanding, albeit on an explicitly Nintendian platform. It does, however, mean that there’s not a huge amount of reason to return to Freedom Unite, as later installments have proven a little more forgiving, navigable and visually pleasing.

But you can have a pig. That’s the take home message here. With a crown.

Retrokick – God of War

In light of the increasingly pervasive surge of festive spirit, I’ve found myself having to go cold turkey. It’s been tough, but I’m getting there.

For nights still plague me with visions of Raiders. I’m racked with Radscorpions;  head run amock with the metaphysical Deathclaw, as incited by the diminutive hue of the Dualshock lightbar in its longing coo for my re-initiation into The Wasteland. Settlers need your help. Bobbleheads lay undiscovered. Steel.

No. No I say! There is time elsewhere for Mutant escapades and Mad Max romanticism. I need to go outside, so that I can do things. I need something fresh, something linear, something relevant enough to quell my Fallout 4 infatuation; outlandish enough to convince that my retentive collection of Nuka Cola Quantum isn’t, in fact, the be all and end all.

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Maybe God of War wasn’t exactly what I needed, but it does have the word ‘war’ in it. And war never changes.

And before the ‘outside’ part of the above is brought up, I did play it with the windows open.

I told you, I’m getting there.

God of War was developed by Santa Monica Studios, who’d go on to affiliate with the Twisted Metal series and Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, as well as subsequent entries in the God of War franchise. After the generally positive, but fairly forgettable reception of their first game, Kinetica, director David Jaffe was given nigh on complete control by Sony over the studio’s next title. Expressing a desire to create a game that had its routes in passion, Jaffe  strove to make Santa Monica’s next project a game that he – as a gamer – would delight in playing.

So naturally, God of War was born. A furious action platformer that blended the epic with the ridiculous, and demonstrated an ability to thrill and nauseate in equal measure. No winning Playstation mascots today, folks. Just Kratos. And his winning beard.

God of War is a bombastic tale that isn’t afraid to shout about it. Drawing inspiration from Desmond Davis’ Clash of the Titans, its story chronicles arguably the most iconic badass in video gaming. Kratos is a palid, brawny spartan, whose brutish attitude and rampant sadism aren’t exactly in short supply.
god of war ed nortongod of war kratos

The design for his character was later revealed to have been inspired by American History X; Kratos exuded a similar static aggression to Ed Norton’s Derek, even possessing a few visual references to the film. Kratos possesses a scarred eye that faintly resembles barbed wire, for example, with a tattoo that discernibly crosses his left breast.

As Kratos, the player takes on the role of the epic ‘hero’ in a bid against Ares, the perfidious ‘god of war’ who has naughtily turned his back on Olympus to cause mayhem in ancient Athens. Much in contrast to the endeavours of the typical do-gooder, however, Kratos’ vow to kill Ares has its roots in personal gain.

Equipped with the Blades of Chaos, whose chains have been seared into his flesh, Kratos is tasked by the etheral goddess, Athena, to find Pandora’s Box, that will grant the power to kill Ares and purge him of his sins.

god of war rubergod of war ares

And, as nostalgic comparisons are quickly becoming customary, here are  pictures comparing the likenesses of Ares and Ruber from Quest for Camelot, a marvellous film that I implore all readers of this post  to watch. It also has Eric Idle.

We’re consistently given tidbits of Kratos’ history, through a series of cutscenes that surface throughout the game, explaining the roots of his personal wrath towards Ares. The cinematic themes of loss, betrayal and hardship are all rather archaic, but the episodic nature of Kratos’ story keeps the player interested learn of the sin-riddled anti-hero, however repugnant he appears.

The art style is reminiscent of classical mythology, although Jaffe’s childhood interest in Greek myth permeates the presentation of its kin. Purple-tinted minotaurs wield giant, spiked hammers, and glaucous cerberus puppies must be offed before they promptly treble in size. There’s a very definite juvenility about God of War, that serves to enliven its environments amongst the, often quite literal, barrage of death.
god of war minotaur grunt
The battered halls of the suffering Olympus are obstructed by bloodied corpses; defiled structures bear the observations of architects who’ve since faded from existence. The tormented, forelorn atmosphere lends to an immense sense of solitude, granted, but it also emphasises the epic proportions of Kratos’ Homeric quest to restore ancient Greece.

Environmental transitions of the game are met with picturesque cinematic sweeps of the crumbling Greece, and even now, it’s difficult not to gawk. There are moments in God of War that have you clawing your way up a titan’s back, torpedoing through Atlantian ruins and leaping betwixt chasmic pitfalls, and it’s still spine-tingling to behold those same tortured surroundings, despite their restricted access by the game’s linear format.

god of war landscape

God of War implemented the engine of Santa Monica’s first game, Kinetica. Fun factoid for you.

In interviews, Jaffe has made his value of gameplay over cinematic quality clear, and as a result, the gameplay is truly what makes God of War. The combat system is combo-based, and relies on swift, rapid attacks in order to decapitate and disembowel and disembody your way through each fallen land.

Opponents themselves are easily obliterated singularly, but the sheer mass of them that tends to be propelled your way is frequently met with avid button-mashing. However, encounters with some of the larger enemies will benefit from implementation of God of War‘s many combat combinations. The execution of specific combos relies on memory, but sets are simplistic and feel natural to perform. The game bulks typical PS2 platforming controls with block and dodge mechanics, allowing alternation between favoured attacks and evading those of enemies to flow; a crucial element in games of the hack n’ slash genre.

If the Blades of Chaos aren’t doing it for you, though, there’s a smorgasbord of special abilities to ensure your every sadistic whim is catered for. Whilst unnecessary powerups and seldom-visited abilities remain a common problem amongst action games, those in God of War have a reasonably equal niftiness. Poseidon’s Rage, for example, can come in handy when thronged by multiple soldiers, whilst Zeus’ Fury employs capabilities more suited to ranged opponents. Hades even equips you with a damn army of souls.

god of war hades

Of course, you’re free to hack your way through with your chaotic kitchen knives if you’re so inclined, but using a selection of powerups during a boss battle can often provide the hefty dint needed to aid a bloodthirsty victory.

The majority of God of War‘s gameplay seems focused on combat, but the game’s puzzle elements seem neither rushed, or careless. Levels are reminiscent of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time – also for the PS2 – but instead opt for puzzles that are more isolated, and complexify some stages. Flipping a switch in this game often means backtracking through a level to see what on Earth you did, and there is a more diverse range of puzzle-solving to be had in God of War.

god of war puzzle

But alas, in a game with such an emphasis on combat, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Indeed, despite the masses of enemies offering an engaging challenge in many situations, I often found the persistent suffocation by innumerable zombies frustrating in those that required attention elsewhere.

There is a particular instance, for example, in which Kratos must push a cage up a slope. As the heave-ho begins, multiple soldiers rise from the earth to inevitably do him in. As I was incessantly caught in the replenishing swarm, the cage I’d lugged so far was left, again and again, to roll blissfully downwards. These instances feel painfully drawn out as a result, and err on the brink of mundanity.

Mundanity is veritably pulvarised when confronted with the game’s hulking bosses, though. These goliaths that surface at pivotal narrative points are a major asset to God of War, but their relatively meagre presence leaves much to be desired. No one boss battle is straight-forward, and unlike many of the common enemies, force the player to adapt their combat strategies. They’re also remarkably structured, ‘multi-tiered’ challenges, that end in the sort of rampant brutality that warrants a convulsive shudder, but as masochistic as I sound for admitting it, a couple more giants to contend with would’ve been grand.

god of war hydra

I realise the irony in asking for an additional set of monstrous jaws when I struggle to shift a cage up a hill. But what can I say, that’s just my skill set, by gum.

Despite the game’s tenacious brutality, however, there are a few attempts at empathy. But whilst many of the cutscenes hint at an intent to humanise Kratos, as a tortured soul riddled with guilt, the effect is often little more than parodic. Most lines are yelled unto the barren sky in a way that scream ‘soap opera’, more than ‘inner turmoil’. Although God of War was by no means intended as a captivating emotional drama, the delivery in these scenes feels forced, and too intense to give Kratos much substance outside his zealous butchery.

The game’s hyperviolence and apparent revelry in it has, does, and will no doubt leave a sour taste in the mouths of some, and whilst I find myself occasionally questioning its exuberance, I can only respect its awareness for what it is. A lot of the gameplay is stylised to the point of ludicrousy; a prime indicator that God of War doesn’t take itself all that seriously.

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The game’s exaggerated animation and ultraviolent finishers border on satire, alluding darkly to humour without pandering for laughs. Indeed, if there are laughs to be had in God of War, they’ll almost exclusively be at the expense of one character or another, but however grim its humour may be, its presence provides an apt offset to the game’s intense narrative peaks.

Intense, in fact, seems to lace every sinew of the God of War franchise, including its score. Classical war-chants and instruments of ancient Greek culture have certainly formed the inspirational basis of many of the game’s battle sequences, to heighten the grotesque vigour of the menacing Kratos. Whenever I listen to some of its (marginally) less gallant tracks, however, there’s always a distinctive Indiana Jones feel which, I’ve a feeling, wasn’t entirely accidental.

god of war balls


God of War is, at its core, a hack and slash game, and whilst its vehement gore and intense narrative isn’t likely for everyone, it was an important entry in the action-adventure genre. Indeed, the game has since spawned numerous novels and sequels – the third of which was remastered for the PS4 only this year. Hell, there’s even been word of a film adaptation floating around, which – as of this moment – I’m only 40% concerned about, and the original still proves robust amongst the likes of Devil May Cry and Prince of Persia.

Whilst not technically original, the game’s cinematic spin, has only been enriched with numerous sequels, and its rich and compelling world-design continues to be recognisable today. Whilst the graphical capabilities of the PS2 original can’t quite match up with such more recent adventure titles as the Uncharted series, God of War‘s visuals still hold up in their own right, and for a game with rather unremarkable components, it’s certainly made a lasting impression on the gaming community.



Mentioned interviews with Jaffe:

Fallout 4 Review: Nuclear Fission in the Soul

Genre: Action RPG

Developer: Bethesda Game Studios

Publisher: Bethesda Softworks

Systems: PC, XOne, PS4

The newest addition to Bethesda’s open world cataclysm is perhaps its most thoughtful yet. It’s been five years since the rockabilly charms of Fallout: New Vegas went for our hearts (and guts), and with current-gen capabilities now in full swing,  it’s surprising how much the wasteland has changed.

Indeed, there are prominent narrative and mechanical changes that depart from the conventions set in motion by prior installments, but after a  fortnight staggering about in the twisted ruins of post-nuclear Boston, Fallout 4 has well and truly  become my vault.

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For the first time in the Fallout series, we’re given a brief glimpse at the sort of life that preceded the void of the mushroom cloud, and it’s a quaintly Utopic one. A cheery projection of the 1950’s ‘Home of the Future’, you begin as an amiable family man or woman of Boston, who, after news of the impending atomic tirade, is suspended in cryogenic stasis in the underground vault of 111. Upon waking, however, 200 years later, you’re soon released to seek answers and familiarity in the tortured echo of the society you once knew.

The opening is more walking simulator than fully-fledged action content, but however restricted, it attributes a greater sense of mourning to the many wastelandic skulkings to come. In Fallout 4, you’re still the detached Vault Dweller you were in previous games; you’re still the lost lamb in a world of faction, distrust and insanity, but having a visual conception of what it is you’ve lost this time round makes for thoroughly more heart-wrenching gameplay.

fallout preston

The Wasteland itself has been revamped in its five year haitus, and I’ve never been happier. The Glowing Sea is a noxious No Man’s Land, barbed with pre-war detritus; Diamond City a metropolis adorned with tatty iron patchwork. Everywhere you turn in Fallout 4, there is a distinct will to survive; a sense that the best has been done with what has been salvaged, and you’ll often stumble across waterlogged dug-outs and lone, makeshift shacks to assure that you’re not the only survivor here.

Indeed, the game certainly doesn’t wait around to acquaint you with your irradiated neighbours. Cyincal, anxious, quite often insane, the Commonwealth populus lives in the shadow of an elusive organisation known as The Institute. A wry reference to the famous Massachussetts Institute of Technology, Fallout 4‘s Institute is behind the creation of synths; cybernetic beings who have developed to resemble humans.

Whilst a refreshing break from the beligerent antagonists of the previous two games, the narrative circling the omnipotent Institute takes a notably more philosophical standpoint. The main storyline raises ethical questions surrounding compassion and free will, often taking really quite dark and existential turns, especially as those you come to care about are inevitably caught in the innumerable crossfires of The Wasteland.

fallout glowing sea
The fate of everyone you meet across the course of Fallout 4 are subject to the nuclear politics of The Commonwealth, and although the storyline observed my epic transition from lone Vault-Dweller to fierce freedom fighter, the decisions I was forced to make along the way were profound enough to convince me that it’s never just a simple case of good and evil, and the web of allegiance only deepens as the plot progresses.

Allegiances aren’t just general affairs now, either, with a heavier focus on the personal relationship between yourself and your companion. Whilst early whimperings of German Shepherd, Dogmeat balances amusement with your induction to the inhumanity of the new world, the friends you make later possess a deeper substance; their own likes, dislikes and backstories; and how much all of this is divulged depends heavily on your relationship with them. One chum might delight in watching you hack terminals, whilst stealing is decidedly off-the-cards when it comes to winning over others.

Several carry the potential to become super friendly, too. Romance can be comically flirtacious or innocently poignant, and no one will mind if you’ve eyes for another simultaneously. It is the apocalypse, after all, and even Super Mutants need some loving now and again.

The gargantuan Deathclaws and adamantium-plated Mirelurks of previous entries make a gorgeous 1080p reprise, there are other beasties to contend with. Bloodbugs and bloatflies are particularly repugnant, as they slurp your blood only to spew it back at you; now more than ever, the various cosms and crannies of Fallout teem with stuff that wants you dead, and each deadly encounter thrills in its own, poisonous way.

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And when you’re not being charged by feral ghouls or taking on a clan of radscorpions, there’s always the RADS to contend with. The threat of radiation is more significant in Fallout 4, and will gradually eat away at your maximum health if not kept properly under wraps; potentially rendering endurance a more attractive route to take when it comes to character levelling. Once the quests really start rolling in, however, you’ll soon find salvation in popping as much Radaway and Rad-X as you can find.

Sprinting has also been incorporated, and after the many hours I spent traversing the Wasteland at a speed akin to an 80-year-old jogger (which, I suppose, is technically rather well-suited to Fallout‘s toxic atmospheres), it’s a welcome addition.

When it comes to levelling, Fallout 4‘s character system is one of the more discernible differences to previous games. Stats, skills and perks are no longer separate, but exist along a singular perk tree. When you level up, you gain only one skill point this time, that can either be used to improve your core traits such as strength, endurance or intelligence, or to acquire perks associated with those traits once your skill level is high enough.

If you’re keen on obliterating your opponents into bloody sacks of gore, for example, you need to buff your Luck stats. This takes a lot of the confusion that existed in previous games away from levelling; instead encouraging you to advance your stats in concordance with the routes you’d like your character to take.

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Your character will also be fully voiced; a bold decision that stands out amongst Bethesda’s other titles. Despite there only being one male or one female voice for your character, both actors give strong, versatile performances, offering a variety of tones from tearse and forelorn to flippant and sarcastic, according to the dialogue options you choose.

Dialogue options themselves appear minimalist; streamlined to a general gist to be elaborated upon by the protagonist. However, this renders decisions in the game more ambiguous. Often, the implications of your choices only become apparent once they’ve been made, occasionally making for unwelcome consequences.

fallout fat man

Combat is smoother and less clunky than in previous games, and with a larger arsenal of heavy duty weaponry, taking down the titans of the wasteland has never felt more rewarding. You can even give your beloved missile launcher a name at any nearby workbench.

Many combat elements, especially firing aim, have also been greatly improved, leaving more room for open fire, without having to single out body-parts each time in V.A.T.S. V.A.T.S isn’t as integral to your survival this time round, but it’s still available to bring some much-appreciated clarity in the midst of what can quickly become chaotic and explosive brawls. Although now, rather than pausing the action completely, you can expect a graceful time-slow whenever you peek into V.A.T.S.

So if you’re caught with a Fat Man up your nostril, it’s unlikely even Vault-Tec will save you there.

fallout super mutant
But bar none, the largest difference Fallout 4 carries for me is its crafting system. The idea of crafting in a game that is largely about exploration first seems offbeat; almost pandering to the convulsive fad Minecraft has become. But Fallout at least makes it relevant, requiring you to build tumultous generators to add basic light to your ramshackle bedsit.

Settlements also provide some much-needed storage space, as crafting means that every item you encounter on your travels can be dissected and scrapped for materials. I found a companion particularly helpful here – as I could pack them up with all the junk I could salvage. Like a kleptomaniacal Womble.

Whilst Fallout 4′s societies and environments are there to remind you of their tenacious survival amidst the smog, you can finally return the sentiment, and there’s something comforting – something quintessentially primal – about forging a colony, to whom you can always return if the raiders ever get you down.

It’s also a place where I get to fulfill my 10-year-old dreams of building a treehouse city. I’m embracing my inner Ewok, and I’m deeply, deeply excited.

fallout 4 crafting

Over the years, the glitch and the bug have come to be recognised almost as inhabitors of Bethesda’s Fallout, alongside its innumerable feinds. And as much as any Super Mutant Behemouth, technical hitches are back with a vengeance. Controls can be janky; often causing you to veer uncontrollably sideways, and getting stuck on scenery is becoming a little too routine not to find irritating. It’s frustrating enough when using analog sticks; I can only imagine how it handles on the PC.

Character conversations frequently halt without player input, when they aren’t all garbling over each other in some sort of verbal free-for-all, and occasionally, dialogue options fail to activate. Larger glitches have been found since Fallout’s release a fortnight ago, which is unfortunate considering the great number of things the game does well.

More often than not, these are but minor inconveniences. But finding you can’t complete a quest because Preston Garvey won’t talk to you can place a palpable tamper on immersion, especially in a game that so easily opens itself up to role-play. Most trivial bugs can thankfully be rectified with multiple save slots, and a quicksaving function has been added to ensure backtracking is kept to a minimum.

fallout diamond city
Hitches are certainly no surprise in a Fallout game, and have come to be considered blots on the escutcheon of Bethesda. But the major changes and striking overhauls Fallout 4 carries is ultimately worth those things. Of course, you’re still borne into a big, bad, broken world teeming with mad locals and volatile beasts, but the sheer mass of added systems, treasures and trinkets make it impressive just how much the old Fallout shines through.

As the main narrative kicks into full drive, the paths you take and the company you keep become genuinely moving, as the stakes inevitably soar the further into the wasteland you proceed. There’s rarely confirmation that you made the right choice, which translates into a gripping sense of uncertainty to match your hostile new surroundings. It’s something that haunts, that beckons, that intoxicates – and partnered with the wasteland’s gorgeously living, breathing vastness, Fallout 4 is a ruthless testament to Bethesda’s open-world capabilities.

Overall Score


Retrokick – Rayman 2: The Great Escape

Like it’s 1999. A time of trying to pronounce ‘millenium’ with all the verbal dexterity of a slug. A time of Toy Story 2 and tamagotchis, accompanied by the creeping sense of dread that we’d better get out of our torn jeans and sideways caps before Justin Bieber came along in his double-drop-crotch whateveryoucallits. But more importantly, a time when Ubisoft was two isolate words.

ubi soft

As has been well-observed, a platformer without some array of cartoon chums and dastardly foes – in the NINETIES, no less – was a rare and seldom-visited notion. Rayman 2‘s robo-pirates are certainly no exception, and lend to a creativity that stands out as a hallmark of the series in general. These cybernetic buffoons have broken the heart of the world, would you believe it, enslaving all of fairykind in the process. Darkened prisons line the halls, penetrated by the immanent whimperings of the captured fae; an assurance that this Rayman sequel can be grim, as well as chucklesome. This havoc is overseen by the inimical Admiral Razorbeard, whom I’m only really mentioning because of his resemblance to Count Duckula. And because he’s the main antagonist. But mostly…
count duckularayman admiral razorbeard

                         …I love Count Duckula.

Rayman himself was introduced to the world four years prior to The Great Escape as a laid back, almost lazy protagonist, whose first venture beyond the comfy confines of his hammock was bespoken by a blasé thumbs-up. It was all cool. He’d get to it. But a nautical cell is far from home, and the ambivalent fate of the fairy kingdom seems to have perked the limbless sprite up a bit.

Good thing too, as Rayman 2: The Great Escape proffers a fast-paced jaunt through woodsy glades, molten sanctuaries and underwater caverns, collecting magical essences known as lums, in search of the four archaic masks of Polokus, in order to awaken the spirit of the world and end the tyranny of Razorbeard. The game was originally released for PC, Dreamcast, N64 and PlayStation, but I’ll be drawing almost exclusively from the N64 and PS1 versions.

rayman prototyperayman graphics

Given that Rayman 2: The Great Escape was a sequel, the game was originally intended to follow in the footsteps of the sidescrolling original. Despite 2D concept art being released, the idea was later scrapped for a fully fledged 3D platformer. Ubi Soft even made a brief nod to this occurrence by including a prototype of the Rayman 2 sidescroller in the PS1 version of the game, unlockable upon collection of 90% or more of the 800 yellow lums. The 3D layout suited the protagonist’s frisky disposition, and really allowed the discernible concepts and quirks of its quietly received predecessor to shine.

The abandonment of the original layout proved to be a widely acclaimed choice, too. Rayman 2 on the N64 was a graphical marvel, trumping those of most other available N64 titles. Visuals were smooth, attaining a depth that knocked Banjo Kazooie and Donkey Kong out of the park; a feat that really embellished the game’s zany cast, and with very few hitches. The PS1 port is  noticeably feebler in comparison; an expected infirmity given the PlayStation’s visual constraints, with no ‘Expansion Pak’ to boost the resolution. Despite its slightly dimned visuals, however, Rayman 2 still holds up on the PlayStation; offering a distinctively rustic, celtic-inspired environment that appeals as much to me now as it did my miniature self.

rayman fairy glade

The controls are simple and certainly intuitive. Whilst jumping and attacking were typical of the genre, The Great Escape took a leaf out of Ocarina of Time’s book by allowing Rayman to lock-on to nearby enemies, making both combat and manoeuvre easier. Movement feels smoother with the PS1’s Dualshock, but goes sadly underappreciated in terms of control scheme. The PlayStation port is riddled with faulty camera angles that frequently obstruct the player’s view, rendering navigation of some of the more agile levels frustrating. Whilst the Dualshock’s right stick was mapped to offer a more cumbersome alternative to the already existent attack button, using it to integrate a more dextrous camera control would’ve been the wiser choice.

In contrast to the collect-a-thon trend that appeared to have surfaced in other popular 3D platformers, Rayman 2‘s gameplay was almost explicitly linear. Levels existed upon a visible timeline, to be completed in chronological order, but remained accessible  to return to, should you wish to complete the game 100%. This approach contributed heavily to the pacing of the game, allowing action to build towards the occasional boss fight as the difficulty raised steadily.

It’s a shame that bosses themselves are rather weedy, in this way. The levels themselves are easily the most challenging part of the game (excluding dealing with erratic camera angles), and to end them with a behemouth that can be annihilated in three short rotations feels a little unfulfilling. Nevertheless, The Great Escape’s ingenuity permeates each boss battle, with its own folkish design and amusing introduction. And despite the flimsiness of some foes, there is still much fun to be had.

rayman jano

The PS1’s memory issues prove to extend beyond mere polygonal truncation, however. Players of the N64 port may be struck by just how much of the game is missing on the PlayStation, with some more memorable moments scrapped. There is an instance – on the N64 – in which the player gains control of a pirate’s ship; a brief, yet notable eccentricity that is missed in the PS1 version, and something that slightly interrupts the otherwise tremendously paced story.

But that isn’t to say the PS1 version is devoid of its own additions. In fact, one of the most noticeable differences between N64 and PS1 versions is character dialogue. Rayman 2′s blithe assortment of kooky characters was fully voiced in European languages on the PS1, whilst the N64 comprised exchanges in amusing gobbledygook. Whilst there’s something noble about giving a character a more relateable voice, the PS1’s voice acting feels a little forced, and the garbled voices are better suited to the world’s caricatured atmosphere and amusing character animations.

rayman teensies

The Great Escape on the N64 offers an eclectic soundtrack, ranging from casual, rocky riffs to the tribal bongoings of a mystic jungle. Again, the soundtrack has been pruned considerably for the PS1 port, resulting in a less varied, but still fairly ambient collection of melodies. In both ports, though, the game suffers from a painfully narrow selection of character sound effects. The odd grunt, groan or exclamatory yelp can’t often go amiss in a 3D platformer, and those in Rayman 2 feel like they’ve merely been slapped on for convenience. Rayman’s asthmatic breathiness whilst running isn’t all that imperative, and becomes a source of mild irritation beyond the first few levels.

This being said, some sound effects do lend useful indicators within the gameplay. For example, one level oversees the rescue and escortment of Globox – a lovable, frog-like goof – from the clutches of the tyrannical robot-pirates. Without the caricatured teeth-chattering of Globox, I’d have probably had to backtrack through the level to find him. Nevertheless, considering the game’s reliance upon wacky humour, a greater scope of vocalisations could have benefitted Rayman 2‘s inviting sense of character.

rayman baby globoxes

Yes, Rayman. I know you’re out of breath. Yes, Rayman. I know cardio’s not your thing.

Rayman 2: The Great Escape is a well-paced platformer that displays amusing, yet mysterious magical flair. The game’s creativity is undeniable, with an exaggerated cast that swings between the comically contemptible and the lovably doltish; all reinforced by an impressive visual depth that enriched the concepts of the original Rayman. Rayman 2‘s legacy suffers from the dissention porting can often create, but aside from comparitive disagreements, both PS1 and N64 releases offer an unmistakeable whimsical edge that can be both dark and entertaining.  Rayman’s chronicles betwixt the, still quite active, fairy realm might have sprung from timorous beginnings, but The Great Escape was where the limbless Ubisoft mascot began to really revel in all his audacious pluck.