After the gargantuan undertaking of last time, where I completed both versions of Lord of the Rings: The Third Age, I needed a palette cleanser. Luckily, I have seventeen unfinished games running at any time. One of those projects that I got way into, but never finished, was NeverDead, the now infamous Konami joint. Though developed by Rebellion, the action shooter with dismemberment mechanisms was mostly attributed by the overseeing heads of the Japanese company. That attribution was more of a curse than anything. In fact, reception was so troubled that director Shinta Nojiri, also responsible for our Rorie's favorite in Metal Gear Acid, was never credited on a game again. All I'm saying is that NeverDead did not leave a good legacy.

I am here today to tell you that you're wrong. You're all wrong! Having finished the grueling last boss and seen whatever cacophony of credits beyond, I can only say that I have the deepest admiration for this game. On the surface, the third person shooter with grizzled protagonist, light platform sections and endless shooting galleries isn't a big deal. Even the dismemberment, which impairs movement or firing ability, is often at odds with what happens on the screen. Hell, the camera angles themselves are a big pain in the ass, if you could even see your ass. I get it, I really do; but to throw out a cliche like a left arm: This game is more than the sum of its parts.

For starters, NeverDead is the absolute peak of Konami's fever dream era. This is the same time period as Tak Fujii going ham on E3 stages, uttering: "One million troops! Extreme!" This is one of the cardinal companies in video games, now so high and mighty that it no longer sees a world where it can fail. As such, they've started okaying any idea. There's beauty in this madness. Moreover, the game looks great. Particularly the cutscenes get the attention that only one of the top dogs in the biz can offer. Production value in itself might not be very important, but this release is definitely not lacking in that department.

One of the biggest priorities of this game is the sound design. Right from the get go, the start screen pays tribute to one of the greats. They knew exactly what they were doing here. With a huge logo front and center, pressing the start button will have a dark, raspy voice echo: "NeverDead," exactly like Resident Evil. Every time, it's a free dopamine release. Moments later, the butt rock that coats this game starts wailing. None other than Megadeth was enlisted to provide face-melting riffs, complete with a title track. Like I said: Production value! Horns up! Extreme!

The song is okay, in the way any Megadeth song is okay.

I'd say the second pillar of this game is creativity. Considering this project revolves around detached limbs and having your head roll around like a Metroid ball, the designers have to find a way to make that system worthwhile. It might not be fully fleshed out, but this system does completely open up an otherwise linear experience. Every area can now be scoped for holes in the wall or hidden pathways in the ceiling. Here and there, you might even find a few destroyed support beams that serve as a rolling passage for your head, revealing a little secret area at the end. The people who made this game clearly cared about it a lot and it shows! It's rare that you can sense the love in a project of this size. To pass this down as merely a product just doesn't do justice to all the fine details within, like dunking your head through a hoop for a collectible. At any time, you might catch yourself unexpectedly having fun with NeverDead, if you let it.

Later in the game, I additionally discovered that the combat is a lot more suited for customization than it first appears. Experience can be traded for buying skills, which can be equipped in a limited amount of slots. Rather than just optimizing the protagonist and antihero, Bryce, I would eventually find it better to tailor skills to a certain encounter. Whether it's dumping everything into more firepower or trading it for longer melee swipes and mobility, there is another layer of depth in the gameplay. If you really want to go buckwild, there's even a feature that turns limbs into bombs, because why not at this point.

As I wrap up fawning about this eccentric release, I just want to add that NeverDead is the perfect period piece. The excess, the hubris, the experimentation; they're all a prime example of where games stood back then, at the precipice of where streamlined blockbusters are today. You will never get another game like NeverDead. Yes, it has a ton of bad parts that I'm not here to discuss today, but those are none of the things I'll remember from my time with this release. NeverDead is the perfect 3-star game; deeply flawed, but oh so interesting. History has done this game dirty and if I can convince even one person to wrestle through it, I'll consider it a victory.

It only took me two days to finish what I had started a long time ago, which made me spontaneously pop in another project: Bio Freaks. Hyperviolence in the 90s is my exact aesthetic, which is the motto of this 3D fighting game. Keeping the previous theme going, you can also dismember and shoot opponents in this game. Does that mean I'm also here to rectify Giant Bomb's verdict? Yes, but also no.

For Bio Freaks, my appreciation is a much more personal feeling. I'll always admire a game that tries, over another that's just going through the motions. That said, the sluggishness of the game's inputs, combined with the ridiculous speed one can take damage and/or lose limbs that debilitate you, make this game impossible. Even on easy, I had to activate infinite retries to get to the last boss. Any fun from shooting out buzzsaws or performing a bloody one-hit kill gets quickly evaporated by the automatic dodges and brutal punishes of later encounters. The mirror match at the end feels unfair as well, as your opponent isn't hindered by the same lag of your character. The final boss is a giant robot with a billion health that just super-murders you every time. Whatever payoff of a nice story with static pictures at the end isn't worth the sisyphean task. However, Bio Freaks is a fun slice of 90s excess, just like NeverDead, with ridiculously crazy character designs and combat arenas full of spikes, flamethrowers or vats of acid. This game is a metal album cover come to life. I, me, a crazy person, enjoyed Bio Freaks while it lasted, but I doubt I could ever convince anyone else of its worth, even with my best efforts. It is an entertaining oddity in its 1-star disaster, but it's probably best seen and not played.

Now that I've rummaged through the mud of video games, I'm turning a new leaf and starting a cult classic instead. My recent Twitter poll landed on Lunar: Silver Star Harmony, which finally gave me an excuse to touch my bulging PSP again. It's been a moment since I've played a tried and true Japanese role-playing game (JRPG), so my failing attention span isn't letting me spend a lot of time with it, but I've already taken a shine to it. I expect this to keep me busy until the end of the year, considering the length of your average JRPG. I'll likely need to sprinkle in some filth on the side to keep me motivated, but there's always plenty of garbage to go around. I just went on a bender of buying ten more used games, including Crash Bash, so there are definitely options.

Until then, I want to make it perfectly clear that I'm not kidding about NeverDead. I expect everyone to apologize to Shinta Nojiri for all your words and deeds. We could've gotten Metal Gear Acid 3 by now.