I’ve tried a few times to write something to follow my last blog post, but the only thing that will stick is more talk about cartoony platformers. It seems that there’s more to say on the subject, and what better things do I have to do? Since the last blog, I completed the Crash Bandicoot N. Sane Trilogy, and the “fourth” game in the series was unveiled. Looking at the series with a critical eye mirrors what I see as the lifetime arc of the 3D platforming genre. With Crash as the template, I will try to explain how 3D platformers grew, why they went away, and how they are coming back.

The first entry in every 3D platforming series has the important task of establishing the character’s universe. Everyone loves the worldbuilding and character work in RPGs, but it’s just as important in platformers, albeit in a different way. I said last time that mascot design is the most important thing, but the world the character lives in comes right after. In a genre all about interaction with the environment, it’s important to make sure that they fit in thematically.

With our detached lens of hindsight, the original Crash Bandicoot is about as good an introduction as you could want. Design-wise, the PS1 release has some problems, but the remake ironed them out for the most part. The Wumpa Islands is a jolly setting filled with cartoon wildlife, native tribes just barely riding the line of being offensive, and invasive factories belonging to Dr. Neo Cortex. The world takes inspiration from Looney Tunes (Crash himself could be a distant cousin of the Tasmanian Devil). In this case, it works great, with Crash’s neon fur fitting right in with the vibrant scenery.

Common consensus on the trilogy is that Crash 1 is the lesser game, but there’s a simplistic charm that wins me over. He has barely any moves, but the level design complements it. It’s not going for anything crazy, but it is satisfying and appealing enough to make it worth playing today. I also really admire the progression: it’s the only game in the trilogy to have a totally linear world map. As a result, there’s a clear escalation in setting as you go from the sunny N. Sanity Beach to the deadly, mechanical Lab. I’m probably giving the game excess credit, but it’s a touch that presents a continuous adventure. It’s one of the things that I think was lost in the sequels.

Oh, and Crash’s character design is pretty good, too. He’s just a triangle with stick legs, but he also has a clearly defined personality trait (n. sanity). I geeked out over this stuff last time, so I’ll leave it at that. Just understand that mascot design is deathly important to any platformer. Anything worse than Ty the Tasmanian Tiger is at the point where it’s not even worth talking about anymore.

To support my thesis that Crash is emblematic of his genre at large: What other series followed his lead in their first game? Spyro captures fairy-tale whimsy that’s perfect for a game about dragons. Ape Escape’s cartoonish art style and malleable monkeys work great for a time-traveling adventure. Sly Cooper’s comic-inspired noir stylings is the ideal backdrop for the sneaky thief he is. Sequels in these games would expand gameplay potential and more, but they all hit upon an iconic feeling right away. If a platformer doesn’t come out of the gate with this confidence, it’s probably headed to the bargain bin.

Moving onto Crash 2 shows a pattern that’s common in many sequels. This is when the team refines everything from the first entry and paves over what went wrong. In Crash’s case, this is downplayed; I can’t point to any one thing and call it a radical change. He’s got a slide move now, Nitro boxes are now a thing, and you’re now going after crystals. None of these things are flashy. But perhaps the understated nature of these additions is to the game’s benefit. They all fit right in with what was established in the first game. Indeed, players who are more familiar with the sequels might be surprised to find out that sliding and the like are absent from the original. They’ve become part of the franchise’s identity thanks to how well they are integrated. Still, the end result is just supplementing the base gameplay. That’s certainly a good thing. Crash 2 is almost unanimously considered an improvement over the original. When I think of mascots that radically change with sequels, like Naughty Dog’s own Jak and Daxter, it puts a bad taste in my mouth.

Crash 3 is a bit of a stranger beast. With the fertile setting of a time machine, more diverse level concepts than ever before are possible. Out of the trilogy, I found the third game’s platforming stages to be the most engaging. The level design is complex and inventive to a new degree. The “flow state” that’s the center of this platforming style is perfected here. It’s obvious that the team was banging out levels with confidence. But the excellence here is often diluted by the rest of the game’s content.

Crash has always loved riding on an animal’s back and running away from giant pursuers. But those stick close enough to the platforming mechanics that it doesn’t feel like a big shift. Crash 2 also has those jetpack levels, which… bleugh. The third game ramps up the variety so much that the focus is very nearly lost. We have tiger levels, jetski levels, scuba levels, airplane levels, and motorcycle levels all competing for attention. I hear that the controls for vehicles were made somehow worse in the remakes. Regardless of the platform, Crash Team Racing this ain’t.

Meanwhile, some game-breaking power-ups get tossed into the platforming just for fun. They aren’t enough to diminish the quality of the level design, but at a certain point it feels like Naughty Dog threw their hands up and let the player do whatever they wanted. When the game was released, I’m sure that some players were excited to try these new gameplay styles out. Modern enthusiasts, on the other hand, tend to prefer a smaller set of mechanics refined to a sharp point. At least, this is what I gather from the most popular platformers in recent years.

Crash 3 is still my favorite of the trilogy, but the scattershot focus does it no favors. And this, readers, is my belief of why 3D platformers went away. Nearly every series that rose to prominence in this era put more and more focus on alternate gameplay styles, at the expense of the main draw to thier games. Shall we run through some examples? 3D Sonic games have been stuck under the weight of this problem since the first Adventure, and the stigma has stuck with the hedgehog ever since. The Spyro sequels added a bunch of little quests and backtracking that makes the formula far less addicting. Banjo-Tooie’s ambition with gigantic interconnected worlds, plentiful minigames, and extra playable characters destroyed the original’s compact design. Sly, too, added endless playable friends and vehicle sections. Before you bury me for dismissing your favorite sequel, you must note that these series are mostly gone. They were once shining stars in the gaming landscape, but fan passion is now the only thing keeping their lights from going out completely. Few get past the third or fourth game (and we have to write Sonic off as basically unkillable). Is this just a coincidence? I don’t think so.

For more evidence, let’s look at the few 3D platformers that are still doing well. Up to this point in the blog, I haven’t even mentioned the guy who kickstarted the entire freakin’ genre! Mario’s 3D platformers are always achievements in their own right, and few competitors have come close to knocking him off his throne. I’m confident that the reason is Nintendo’s watertight design philosophy. They always work around a core idea, whether that’s spraying water, gravity, or possessing others. Platforming is tuned to a virtuosic degree, and any elements that fall outside of that sphere are polished and small enough to not be annoying (and if not, they’re usually optional). I haven’t played many Ratchet and Clank games, but their shoot ‘em up style has remained intact going on two decades. They do the occasional weird spin-off, but confine it to separate games. The fact that the series is still going strong while keeping the same principles really says something.

So, barring these survivors, what “killed” the 3D platforming genre? In my eyes, a lack of focus in these games as time went on limited the possibility for true innovation, and the genre fell out of favor as a result. It was probably a mix of publisher pressure to keep adding stuff to have more selling points on the box and developers wanting to break free of the box they had created for themselves. Other factors didn’t help, either – a glut of trashy licensed games crowding the market, and the “core gamer demographic” moving to darker fare in general. It was all a perfect brew for 3D platformers to fall out of the public consciousness.

This story has a happy ending, though. Eager teams of platform lovers have fought to bring them back in the past five or so years. While it’s been an uphill battle, it looks like the battle is won all the same. Super Mario Odyssey, Yooka-Laylee, A Hat in Time, Psychonauts 2, and countless indies are bringing back the spirit that was missing for so long. And, to bring it full circle, Activision’s excellent (and lucrative) remakes of Crash and Spyro have led to a proper Crash 4. This game follows the trilogy directly, pointedly ignoring everything after Naughty Dog left the franchise. While the success of this game is yet to be seen, the outlook is promising so far. The design concepts as told by Toys for Bob understand the best aspects of the original games, and the new mechanics seem to be more than slapped-on gimmicks. In an age where random loot and timewasters are the norm, it’s fantastic to see something so accessible given prime-time treatment. The full price tag indicates that if nothing else, Activision believes there is a demand for 3D platformers once again. It’s a comeback story that will hopefully lead to more exciting projects across the industry. If Crash Bandicoot truly is the barometer for the entire genre, I wish him a long and fruitful second life.

It’s not hard to determine that my favorite genre of game is the platformer. Especially in tough times such as these, I love jumping into something that simply asks for the player’s reflexes. The comparative merits of 2D and 3D styles of platforming have been endlessly debated. Both are great! However, a period in history that has always interested me is the overlap between them. As 3D technology began to dominate the industry, many studios sought to push the boundaries of gameplay possibilities. Meanwhile, others took an approach of using this technology to augment tried and true 2D gameplay. Here, I will look at three platformers from the period, examine their ambitions, and determine where they went right and wrong.

Ape Escape

As one of the PlayStation brand’s historic franchises, Ape Escape still has fans hoping for a modern revival. I hadn’t played the game until now, but its charm is outwardly inviting. The presentation is cartoonishly bright with enough style to appeal to older kids. It all represents what the ESRB would call Comic Mischief, which permeates the entire game.

Mascot platformers such as these depend on simple, yet expressive character design. The titular apes are relatively unsung, but they are a masterclass in character and gameplay integration. There are no extraneous elements. A preschooler could draw these monkeys, yet each part of them communicates vital information to the player. The flashing light on their heads is a clear indicator of their awareness level. Likewise, the color of the monkeys’ pants signals how they will act: fleeing, attacking the player, and so on. At a glance, you have everything you need to strategize your encounters with each ape.

It’s a good thing, too, because the capture of these primates is your primary objective. Each level has a smattering of them, with a target number needed to move on. This will always be less than the total number of apes in the stage. In other words, if one particular monkey is giving you trouble, you can leave him alone and go after a different one. Unlike a Banjo-Kazooie, you are not permitted to clear out every collectible in one go. Once you reach the target, you will be booted back to the level select. This led to some cases where I wanted to explore the rest of the level, but I was out of luck for being too good at ape wrangling.

You will depend on about a dozen gadgets to traverse the stages. These are mapped to the controller’s face buttons like Zelda’s C-button items. I can’t fully discuss these gadgets without first delving into Ape Escape’s untraditional control scheme. The game is somewhat famous for being one of the few to absolutely require the original DualShock controller. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. The developers wanted to fully explore the new gameplay possibilities afforded by two analog sticks. Determining whether they succeeded is a matter of taste.

While gadgets are selected with the face buttons, actually using them requires the right stick. For items like the baton and net, you can swing in any direction or in a circle corresponding to the input. The handy super hoop and air propeller require full rotations to activate. One of the coolest gadgets is the RC car, which can be controlled alongside Spike with both sticks.

Excepting the car, though, I don’t think the stick adds as much as the developers had hoped. While some may find it more immersive, it comes at the cost of responsiveness. Common tasks like shooting the slingshot or boosting with the propeller are overly cumbersome because of the stick inputs. It’s hard not to think about how the gadgets could easily be mapped to buttons. Even swinging weapons in different directions is rarely useful. Comparing to Zelda once again, that game has fun combat swinging in just direction, while still including a spin attack. And the less said about Ape Escape’s vehicle sections, the better.

Ultimately, though, the worst part of this control scheme is what it does to the camera. It’s not exactly fair to expect this 20-year-old game to include the standardized dual-stick camera controls we can use in our sleep. Trying my best to put biases aside, I have to conclude that Ape Escape’s camera is just poor. Running around the game’s attractive environments with an analog stick feels great. At least, it does so long as you run directly north. The slightest hint of a different orientation will initiate a camera rotation. This rotation puts the camera not behind Spike, but in front of him. Should the player try to fight the camera’s movements with analog adjustments as they run, the struggle will continue until all parties are dizzy and aggravated. And all for wanting to travel in a straight line. Running towards the camera can work in controlled sequences, like in Crash Bandicoot, but this is a free-roam platformer. Seeing where you’re going is, you know, important.

The designated camera adjustment buttons are the D-pad. However, they are inverted, and only have utility while standing still. The instant Spike starts moving, the cameraman is right back on his bullshit. Using the D-pad and the analog stick at the same time seems physically impossible, so forgive me if that never occurred to me while playing. I swear, I must have pressed the button to recenter the camera more often than the jump button! Often multiple times just to walk from point A to B!! Dear reader, I promise you that I made every effort to determine if I had just missed something. I combed over every tutorial message I could find, searched fruitlessly in the options menu, and even consulted the game manual! But tragically, I could find no trace of better options for this camera system. Please let me know if one exists.

The worst part is that these fundamental issues are a massive barrier in a game that I would otherwise love. I’ve already mentioned the excellent portrayal of the apes, and their slapstick antics are enjoyable. Each having a name and factoid shows that the developers were willing to go the extra mile. The whole vibe of the game is Saturday morning goodness, with voice acting just good enough to not be bad. Every environment you visit is distinct and visually striking for the hardware. The “fake-out final level” is one of my pet peeves, but as the stages just get more and more inventive, it didn’t bother me one bit here. To top it all off, there are bonus minigames you can unlock for snagging extra collectibles!

It’s impossible not to see how much love was put into Ape Escape, which makes its issues all the more heartbreaking. Every part of me wants to recommend it, but the game has a hidden dark side that won’t make the experience easy. An N. Sane style repackaging with an acceptable camera could be just what the series needs. Technically, the monkeys I couldn’t collect are still out there, endangering society. Knowing that they break loose to do it all again in the sequel, it doesn’t seem like a priority.

Yoshi's Story

Mario’s carnivorous companion has experienced a number of ups and downs. Opinions are split on the first in the Yoshi sub-series, Yoshi’s Island. I’m pretty cold on it, but plenty of folks have it as one of their favorites. Lovers and haters alike, I struggle to think of anyone preferring its sequel. Yoshi’s Story makes so many strange decisions that I’m not sure where to begin.

In appearance, Yoshi’s Story is much closer to Donkey Kong Country than Super Mario 64. It uses rendered sprites to attempt a 2.5D look. The game’s premise is that the island has turned into a storybook, and the environments are drawn accordingly. The cardboard landscapes will be familiar to anyone who has played early Super Smash Bros. games. There are some more creative examples as well, like a level background built from newspaper. Unfortunately, this style’s effect is mitigated because future Nintendo games have taken the concept much further. Yoshi’s Story crawled so his Crafted World could run, certainly. I still think I prefer the crayon drawing style of the previous game to this one’s faux-3D.

There is one strained comparison I can use to tie this game together with Ape Escape. Both have stages abruptly end when a fixed number of Things are collected! In Yoshi’s case, this is eating 30 pieces of fruit. You don’t have to get to the end of a level, he just decides he’s had enough for one day. But while each ape is a challenge in its own right, Yoshi is almost literally tripping over fruit for the entire adventure. His tongue fires at the speed of an assault rifle, and you are forced to watch as he fills up like the greedy gourmand he is.

Strictly speaking, not all fruit is created equal. Each color of Yoshi has his own favorite fruit which will award more points. A randomly selected lucky fruit will do the same. And the most dedicated Yoshi’s Story players will strive for the coveted “all-melon run,” though I have some questions for anyone who fits that description. The average player will just be snacking on whatever’s in front of them, the screen steadily filling with fruit until the raptor’s hunger is finally sated.

Despite my language, there’s no mistaking that Yoshi’s Story is far more relaxed than its predecessor. Later levels in Island could be quite demanding and demand twitch reflexes. That sort of challenge is absent from Story. Egg throwing returns, but it utilizes a slower free throw system instead of button timing. Yoshi’s trademark flutter jump also feels more forgiving. However, due to Yoshi controlling like a slippery eel in this game, it did me more harm than good. There are technically boss fights, but you would have already beat one in the time it took you to read this sentence. Mixed with the art style, these complaints are damning evidence for the tired argument that Nintendo only makes “kiddy games.” Speaking of which, this game does lack Baby Mario, which is a true blessing.

The strangest choice Nintendo made with this game comes from its length. In total, there are only 24 levels, which is already short for this type of game. Stranger still, you will only experience six in one playthrough. That’s right, you will only play one level in a given environment before moving to the next set. There are up to four options in each chapter, but to have access to all of them, you must explore the previous level for giant hearts.

An average playthrough will end at well under an hour in all its underwhelming glory. Your score will be tallied and ranked on a leaderboard. That, and the mechanic of picking levels, funnels into a game that desperately encourages repeat playthroughs. The question is, why was this system chosen? Most would find it much more satisfying to play all the levels in a single playthrough. As it is, the adventure feels quaint and inconsequential. Part of me wants to think that Nintendo tried to push replayability to mask the game’s shortness. Another part must acknowledge that Nintendo making unconventional choices for no reason at all is completely in character. No matter the cause, it didn’t pay off, and is likely why so many players left the game wanting more.

As a last note, I should mention the sound. Baby Mario may be absent, but his cries have a successor. This game was the first to give Yoshi his iconic voice courtesy of composer Kazumi Totaka. The same voice clips remain in use decades later, up to this very day. It’s hard to imagine Yoshi without Totaka’s pitched noises, but he is often too vocal for his own good. The Yoshi choir that serenades you after every level is already ear-splitting. Realizing that Totaka created this atonal group using himself leads me to a dark rabbit hole I’m not sure I want to see the end of.

Yoshi’s Story is such a bizarre change in direction for the series that every question just leads to ten more. It is a marginally fun game, but so many better options exist that it’s hard to recommend. Even for Nintendo 64 fanatics, it’s fair to say you won’t miss much by skipping this one.

Klonoa: Door to Phantomile

Somewhere between Namco’s glory days in the arcade era and their anime-centric existence today lies a little series called Klonoa. This rabbity thing is another example of an early 2.5D game, but it’s much more successful in its execution. Klonoa will always move on a 2D plane, but the path will curve and split in ways that take advantage of the third dimension. The result is dioramic levels that nonetheless feel like real places inside Klonoa’s world. You may see level elements in the background that will be explored minutes later. Later stages have branching paths that credibly link up and crisscross each other. This style of level construction works beautifully, yet I struggle to think of many examples of it in other games.

Anodyne 2 turned me on to artisanal low-poly graphics, and as a result, Klonoa is a joy to look at. The environments have just enough detail to not feel lacking, but they retain the charm of simplicity. There is also good variety in locations, so no one area gets stale. Detailed character sprites fit in great. I think this art style has aged wonderfully, and I would like to see it in a modern game.

Klonoa’s main skill is grabbing enemies and throwing them in several directions. He can toss them along the 2D plane, downwards for a double jump, and even into the foreground and background. The challenge curve escalates nicely throughout the game, and the required feats never feel impossible. What’s more, enemies will repopulate when they are needed to progress, covering for missed shots. It is a fairly simple mechanic, but it never becomes boring.

Klonoa also has a flutter jump that’s fairly weaker than Yoshi’s. It’s rarely required to extend jumps, instead serving to correct them. The character already feels very responsive, and the flutter makes platforming that much easier. Though Klonoa has even less levels than Yoshi’s Story, it definitely feels more like an adventure. Both games are presented as chapters in a book, but Klonoa’s world is more connected and built out.

Unfortunately, my praise has to stop with Klonoa’s story. It certainly goes for something more than these other two games, but it doesn’t hit the mark. Level 1-1 starts as expected, a happy-go-lucky frolic set to a saccharine score. By halfway through, the dramatic stakes have skyrocketed. The game attempts to pull at your heartstrings in a way that wasn’t indicated previously. To be fair, it gives the antagonist more gravitas, but it’s still an unexpected turn.

Of course, anyone who’s beaten Klonoa is aware of the game’s infamously tragic ending. Even the most hardened of hearts will feel something. The issue with the ending comes again from it being so removed from the game’s outward appearance. Please don’t misunderstand – I have no problem with “cute” stories exploring darker themes. But the question must be asked, what does the ending contribute to the story as a whole?

Other than a talking point, it isn’t much. The ending is clumsily foreshadowed, but the entire reveal and consequence of Klonoa being from another world takes place well into the denouement. The revelation is crammed into the last three minutes before the credits, making it come pretty much out of nowhere. One way to fix this would be placing the reveal before the final boss. The player would then have to contend with this knowledge while part of the game still remains. It would also give the final boss more stakes. As it is, the abrupt twist seems thrown in just because, or to give people something to talk about.

The saddest part of the ending is that it necessitates leaving the world for good. With the sequel dropping the aesthetic elements that appeal so much to me, it loses a lot of flair. In general, the series never seemed to catch on in the way Namco hoped. It wouldn’t be an outrageous claim to label Klonoa a “failed mascot,” but his first adventure remains a great game that could only exist in this generation between dimensions. I hope Klonoa’s spirit is carried forward in some way, so that he may escape his lonely fate.

Firaxis’s XCOM games are the modern touchpoint for the tactics genre, and for good reason. The balance between depth and accessibility has attracted droves of fans, each with a story about how a tragic missed shot destroyed a campaign. I have personally dumped an imposing number of hours into XCOM 2 and its expansion. Now, the studio aims to keep the flame going with XCOM: Chimera Squad. The budget title makes some noticeable changes to the series formula, ultimately making Chimera Squad a bite-sized XCOM experience in nearly every way.

The most immediate sign of Chimera Squad’s relative smallness is the game’s scope and setting. In previous games, the invisible commander fought for the entire planet. Now, you preside over a tiny subsidiary of XCOM in the diverse City 31. Following the war for Earth, aliens, humans, and hybrids now live in a shaky state of coexistence. Of course, this being a tactics game, there are bad guys stirring the pot. It’s up to Chimera Squad to shoot them in droves and prevent City 31 from falling into anarchy.

But by far the biggest difference from previous XCOM titles is the type of units under your command. One of the most beloved elements of the series is unit customization. Making soldiers in the image of friends and celebrities is typically half the fun. In Chimera Squad, though, there are just 11 preset characters to control. This allows each squad mate to have their own personality, abilities, and role on the battlefield. Some are powerhouses, like squad leader Godmother or magnificent gunslinger Blueblood. Others have support roles, like combat medic Terminal and the nearly useless Shelter.

Most notably, about half of the agents are aliens or hybrids. This means you get the opportunity to use some of the same abilities that are usually reserved for enemies. Have you always wanted to crush a bad guy with a huge snake? This is your chance. The game starts with four members on board, but more arrive as you progress. You have the choice of which soldiers join, and some will be left off the squad entirely. Still, I can’t help but notice a difference in psychology created by the change to distinct characters. Casting Battle Madness as Verge is always fun, but I don’t have the same attachment to him as I do with my created characters in XCOM 2. The potential for emergent stories is somehow lower.

The stakes are also lower. Letting your agents run out of health merely gives them a temporary debuff instead of permadeath (though I believe this is an option). This leads to some strange cases where a teammate is left bleeding on the ground during an evac, only to show up at base with the others little worse for wear. One advantage the squadmates now have is the ability to be more than blank slates. Banter between characters is a little too cute for its own good, but never unbearable. It fits with the story having less gravitas than past entries.

Aside from leaving behind custom units, the other big change in Chimera Squad is the turn order. In older games, all units on a single side took their turns together. Now, player and enemy units are all jumbled together in initiative. A few abilities can shift the turn order, but agents are generally spread out from one another. I appreciate the desire to change things up, but I think I prefer the old method. I love whittling down the possibilities into a plan, only to have that plan go off the rails with jaw-dropping misses and oversights. There are less opportunities to plan ahead in Chimera Squad because you usually don’t know what the map will look like the next time an agent is up. It encourages thinking on your feet, but it’s also less strategic.

One change I do like is to the pace of missions. Often, XCOM missions took place in long arenas where forward progress was always required. Here, each mission is split into a handful of combat encounters in boxy rooms. Each encounter starts with a breach phase which gives the opportunity for free damage on selected enemies. Everything now feels snappier, and the drawn-out battles of the past are absent. Instead of a three-course meal, encounters are snack food. This is the adjustment I would most like to see carried forward, perhaps in conjunction with more traditional missions.

he intermittent strategy layer also returns in miniaturized form. Item development and extra scenarios are still present, though base building is out. For the most part, it’s setting things to advance in the background, bearing fruit after running a few missions. You also want to assign a squad member to speed up the process, which means they aren’t available for combat. This aspect of the game is light, but the real challenge comes from battling the anarchy meter.

City 31 is split into nine districts. You must manage the temperature of each one to keep things in check. Districts won’t be happy when they’re neglected, and when one fills up completely, it adds to the anarchy meter. If that gets maxed out, you fail the campaign. You’ll also start getting “emergency” missions which aren’t that fun. I felt like I did everything I could to manage the meter, but I cut it close near the end. You have to take every chance you can to lower the thing.

While the above alterations definitely make Chimera Squad a bite-sized XCOM, it is XCOM nonetheless. 2K could have sold this as another expansion to XCOM 2 without most people batting an eye. Every enemy is a reskin of one from that game, if not lifted from it wholesale. The UI is identical, and I didn’t notice any changes in the “math” of combat. Any differences in gameplay come from the periphery. The core experience is very much preserved, but for the better.

Ultimately, deciding if Chimera Squad is for you comes down to your feelings on the series. Those wanting a game that drastically innovates on the strategy genre should look elsewhere. Conversely, if you adored XCOM 2 and the changes sound intriguing, I can give it a solid recommendation. At 20 hours for as many dollars, it’s not a risky proposition. I’m not always in for a drawn-out war, and in those times, it’s good to know that Chimera Squad is there to binge.

As much as I love writing up games, the new releases I played this month didn’t lend well to full reviews. One is a puzzle game that doesn’t have too much to discuss, and the other two came out last week and I’m not through with them yet. So, they’re getting the anthology treatment as I wrap together my thoughts into one neat post.

Murder By Numbers:

Genre mashups are trendy in the smaller game market, but they’re also a double-edged sword. On one hand, mixing elements from distant types of games can lead to exciting new results. Yet the developers now have to make sure that those ideas play well together. One such mashup that released this month is Murder by Numbers. This game is primarily a picross puzzle game (awesome) fashioned inside a mystery visual novel.

I wish that this game had come to my attention a little earlier, because I really screwed up before playing it. Somehow, I had managed to play a game from both genres in February: Pictoquest on the Switch and Phoenix Wright: Justice for All. It’s no wonder I felt burned out while playing Murder by Numbers.

The main character, Honor, is an actress-turned-amateur detective when there’s a mysterious death on set. That's combined with the appearance of an amnesiac computer monitor, SCOUT. Not content with sitting idly by, the duo takes matters into their own hands by tackling the case and three more malicious murders. That translates into finding evidence by way of picross puzzles!

Unfortunately, picross and investigations do not combine as well as they could have, or at least how I hoped they would. If you’ve ever played a picross game before, you won’t be surprised by what you see here. Other than some forgettable hacking sections and a generally high difficulty curve, the game doesn’t innovate much in its puzzles. This would be forgivable if I had not just played over a hundred of these puzzles in Pictoquest.

The visual novel setting fails to pick up the slack. This is not to say it is bad – especially compared to the worst of the medium. Characters have multiple dimensions even if they are cartoonish in the Ace Attorney tradition. And just like that series, smart use of visual and sound cues hides the lack of animation frames. I even enjoyed the dynamic with SCOUT, who is one of the less annoying robot sidekicks I’ve seen in this type of game. There are no major complaints to speak of with the story.

The problem is the way picross is built into framework. Once you scan the environment for a hotspot, you play a puzzle which reveals the clue. However, harder puzzles can take many minutes to complete. When I finished one, I had often forgotten what was going on in the story. Puzzles pop up so frequently that this problem wounds the game’s pace.

But the experience truly falls apart when you present evidence to accuse another character. In Phoenix Wright, these moments require critical thinking about the situation and are the tensest moments of the game. In Murder by Numbers, the “numbers” were so dominant that I rarely remembered the details of the “murder” part. Most often, I would select whichever puzzles I had most recently solved. If that wasn’t the answer, someone would go, “that doesn’t make sense” and give me another try for free.

In the end, Murder by Numbers is a functional picross game with a serviceable story in the background. It’s not a bad way to scratch the picross itch, but I would recommend Pictoquest over it. As another mashup, Pictoquest more successful in its chosen genre of RPGs. The added elements add tension to the usually chill picross experience.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons:

Things I don’t love about New Horizons:

• Tools breaking. Making them all over again isn’t how I want to be spending my time.
• Villagers being more one-dimensional than ever and not offering anything of substance.
• The dodos only taking me to the shitty islands. What gives, guys.

Things I LOVE about New Horizons:

• General fixing of all the timewasters that bugged me in past games.
• Crafting and customizing, other than the tools.
• Creating the look and feel of the island. VIBES
• Snagging rare fish.
• Tom Nook back in the spotlight where he belongs.
• Improved custom designs.
• I put out a boom box playing Totaka’s song and later my neighbor was whistling it in sync.
• I ran into a neighbor’s house to escape bees and left without talking to her, and she did the confused emote.
• The MUSEUM. Oh my god, the museum is gorgeous! They have the walk-through tunnel in the aquarium, Blathers’s dialogue is more charming than ever, and they got rid of the stupid paintings! This was always my favorite part of the series, and seeing the glorious new version cemented my love for New Horizons.

Doom Eternal:

While jumping into 2016’s Doom was an instantaneous joy, it took a good few hours before I felt the same about the sequel. The new combat tools add complexity, when the simple loop of the previous game is what made it resonate with so many people. For the most diehard shooter fans, the new systems probably form a badass experience. I get the feeling the game was made for those people. But I’m not yet one of them.

At close to halfway through the campaign, I’m now at the point where things are coalescing into something that recaptures the feeling of the last game. Encounters are now varied enough to benefit from full use of the tools. The slayer gates are an especially awesome challenge independent of the reward. On that note, I’m surprisingly into secret hunting as a pace breaker from the action. Adding fast travel and cheat codes was a really strange decision that somehow works out.

But for how fine-tuned the combat is, there are distracting things that don’t sit right. For instance, tutorial popups that spoil an enemy type’s weakness before they even appear on screen. And the story, especially lore pickups, seems like a waste of time. No offense to the writers, but I doubt anyone picked this game up for the intricacies of Doomguy’s world. I don’t think he should bow, either. As far as the setpieces go, they're more bombastic and exciting than ever.

Doom Eternal seems like it gets more rewarding the more time you pump into it. Each level has steadily been getting better from the lukewarm first impression. Maybe they should have began with something bigger, but if they’re saving the best until the end, I'm looking forward to it.

Nintendo rumors are like pimples. They tend to pop up all the time, but it’s rare that they become anything to worry about. Online Nintendo fanatics freak me out because they take each new leak as gospel, only to be shocked when they get a Byleth instead of a Dante. Unless concrete proof exists, I don’t trust anything that doesn’t come from official sources.

The latest gossip that came from… somewhere, I don’t really know, is that a new Paper Mario and sidescrolling Metroid will release in 2020. While I wouldn’t ordinarily put much thought into this rumor, it happened to coincide with my own playthrough of fan favorite Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door. With whispers that this new game would finally be a true successor to the GameCube classic, was this fate?! No. But it is a good opportunity for me to dream up what I would want in a sequel.

What stands out to me about the first two Paper Marios are the partner and badge systems. Their absence in the recent, not-nearly-as-good entries is strongly felt. Partners are an interesting way to handle a traditional RPG party. Each character is designed for a particular situation and to complement Mario’s abilities. In the original Super Mario RPG, the party is a fairly standard approach, and the brothers in the Mario & Luigi series are more or less equals in battle.

In Paper Mario, though, you want to switch to your Koopa friend for enemies on the ground, a flying partner for enemies in the air, or the Bob-omb to deal with extra defense. These roles carry over to the field as well, where each partner has distinct uses for puzzle-solving. Along with their quality designs and writing, this is why every partner has adoring fans (except maybe Goombario). The void of personality could not be filled by the single Navi-esque tagalong in more recent Paper Marios.

The problem is that even in TTYD, the second game, nearly every partner is an analogue of one from the first. In gameplay, what’s the difference between Kooper and Koops? Bombette and Bobbery? Bow and Vivian? They’re wildly different – and fun - characters, but the developers seemed to have trouble imagining new roles for partners in the sequel. To truly excite people, I think the next game would have to branch out with all new species and expanded abilities in the overworld. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would offset constant comparisons to the previous cast.

While the partners are beloved, I find that the badge system doesn’t get enough praise. You essentially have a budget of points that you can allocate to a selection of many badges Mario finds. These badges can vary from passive abilities to new moves, meaning you can essentially build your own Mario however you like. But with all the badges out there, I don’t feel like the games encourage experimentation enough. Unless you pour all your levels into more badge points, the limit is pretty tight, and most players will just stick with what they have. I would like to see more freedom, perhaps by rewarding extra points on a more regular basis.

These little adjustments to playstyle are meaningful because the battle system is very basic. It’s rare for Mario to reach double digits of damage. Instead of scaling XP numbers, Mario consistently levels up at 100, with weaker enemies offering none. In general, all the numbers are extraordinarily low for an RPG. I’ve always loved this because it strips away the silly escalation where attacks do thousands of damage and presents a simpler, beginner-friendly experience. They should keep this as the core of the game. At the very least, they absolutely must get rid of those consumable attacks that no one likes.

Though Paper Mario: Color Splash showed a shocking lack of critical awareness, I do think it preserved the quality of writing Mario RPGs are famous for, and it looked really sharp. Knowing this, I’m sure that Intelligent Systems has the ability to return the series to form with expanded creativity. The best Mario RPGs put the character in totally new situations (a wrestling league? Bowser’s insides? Who thinks of this stuff?), and seeing recent entries drop him in the standard level themes with generic Toads was disappointing. They need to take what worked from later games and evolve the series from its roots. Hopefully, the next Paper Mario will once again be a story worth telling.

Oh, and for Metroid, just give Samus some new powers. I’m sick of getting the ice beam and super missiles all the time.

Call me crazy, but I look forward to game of the year time every December. It’s a wonderful chance to look back at the experiences that shaped my digital year and what I’ll take into the next one.

I like to broadly theme each year when making these lists. The commonality between my favorite games in 2017 was powerful emotion. 2018 focused on strong design. In 2019, the theme is creativity. Most of what you’ll see on this list stands out with particularly special art, music, concept, voice or heart.

These games also inspired me to re-stoke my own creative fires, both within and outside them. The biggest lesson I learned is the value of patience and persistence when making art – the result is often much more rewarding. I’m very happy with what I’ve created this year, and it’s due in no small part to the brilliance on my console or computer.

With that out of the way, it’s time to count down the games that most defined my year. And as usual, I’ve included a choice song from each entry. Enjoy!

10. Dreams

With my chosen theme for 2019, it’s hard to pick a better mood-setter than Media Molecule’s Dreams. Even the most jaded person can look through the top-rated section and find something astonishing. Despite my admiration, Dreams is one of my biggest regrets of the year. I fell off the game shortly after it entered early access because I couldn’t get my head around the creation process. While the UX was too unintuitive for me, that does nothing to diminish the incredible creations the community has since realized.

In Dreams, you’re just as likely to find a 30-second gag as you are a full RPG experience. The platform actively encourages inspiration, experimentation, and collaboration. Everything I’ve seen from the community has been totally enthusiastic about capturing that creative spirit. Even from a distance, it’s beautiful to watch. The full launch on Valentine's Day will hopefully evolve the landscape even further. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dreams kickstarts the careers of some of the future’s next great game developers.

9. Outer Wilds

The great tragedy of Outer Wilds is that it may never escape the confusion with Obsidian’s The Outer Worlds. Even I get them mixed up sometimes, and I’ve only played one of ‘em. In this game, you’re tasked with exploring the solar system in a time loop that ends with a supernova every 22 minutes. All that persists between cycles is your knowledge as you follow a Pepe Silvia web to the next clue.

What this means is that you can tackle the game in any order that you choose or bounce between planets at will. It’s great open-ended design that capitalizes on the vast setting. Unfortunately, the traversal was a bit too unwieldy for me, and punishing to boot. Floating in space after falling through the black hole yet again demoralized me from exploring more. I don’t envy NASA engineers. Despite that, it can be exhilarating to pick up the trail as the pieces coalesce. In its best moments, Outer Wilds encapsulates the adventurous spirit and wonder that drives us to the stars in real life.

8. Hypnospace Outlaw

I don’t typically spend time reading lore pamphlets, but scouring the information superhighway of Hypnospace is awfully satisfying. You take the role of a forum moderator on an alternate universe 1999 internet. The world-building that makes up that universe acts as a tempting rabbit hole much like the ones we’re using right now. Each page you find seems to uncover two more. The endless eccentricities and distractions kept me invested in the otherwise simple game.

Hypnospace is a satirical snapshot of a very particular era, and it essentially nails the impression. You’ll find underground music movements, digital scams and ersatz Pokémon with the accompanying Satanic Panic. Every piece of art and music falls right in line with ‘90s aesthetic values. Though it’s your job to police the wacky Hypnospace citizens, you can’t help getting attached to them. Seeing their pages evolve and drama unfold while rocking to The Chowder Man was a great way to spend Y2K.

7. The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening

Until this year, Link’s Awakening was one of the diminishing pack of Zelda games I had not really touched. This handheld beauty really shines in the gorgeous (but probably overpriced) remake. Koholint Island takes on the style of toy miniatures, and a handful of quality of life improvements make the experience that much smoother.

Link’s Awakening is confident in its quirky personality, which helps set it apart. It’s the first Zelda game to have an extended cast of named characters endearing the player to the world. Important story moments are just as iconic as the ones in the game’s console siblings. The visual upgrade kept me hooked as I gobbled up the adventure in a weekend. I loved the imaginative dungeons, and the only annoying spot was when I had to find this one particular bush on the overworld. I suppose the NES Zelda DNA hadn’t fully evolved. Other than that, Link’s Awakening remains an excellent entry in the series and a demonstration of how the series formula can still hit hard.

6. Pikuniku

I learned about, installed, finished and reviewed Pikuniku in less than 24 hours, but the whole experience hit all the right notes for me. The three-hour game leans on oddball comedy set to a flat, minimalist landscape and funky tunes. You play as a walking red ball who must stop a greedy industrialist from taking over the land. Along the way, you solve puzzles, do some light platforming and participate in the occasional bizarre minigame with equally goofy characters.

Pikuniku is a great example of doing a lot with a little. It won’t win any awards for depth, but the pace and variety kept me wanting to see what happened next. I had a smile on my face every moment of the playthrough. While cute and colorful, Pikuniku’s personality hinges on irony and understatement. That isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but for me, it totally landed the punchline.

Further Reading

5. Resident Evil 2

What usually kept me away from survival horror was fear not of the scary monsters, but of resource management. I didn’t want to get screwed over by missing the tiny box of ammo in my pixel hunting three hours earlier. Fortunately, Capcom’s remake of Resident Evil 2 contains an excellent map system and modern controls, allowing me to put these worries aside and fully engross myself in the experience. Lights off, headphones on!

RE2 has a masterful power curve that swings the player between capable and helpless. Poking around the world - especially the police station - felt like a tense mission through enemy territory instead of backtracking. Despite the memes and his silly hat, Mr. X was a terrifying opponent. I really did feel like I was fighting for my life, which is rare in the genres I typically play. While I expected to have fun with this game, I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much. Returning to Raccoon City next April is sure to be thrilling.

4. Super Mario Maker 2

While Dreams has a much more robust palette for creation, Super Mario Maker 2 is the game that really inspired me. No shortage of time was spent refining my levels into something that I would actually like to play. In a way, mastering principles of good design is more rewarding than actually beating levels. The interface is not as beautiful and harmonious as on the Wii U, but it’s a relatively small hill to overcome.

The additions to the sequel seem small from the outside, but they’re huge to those who spent serious time in the original. The given tools are also deceptively powerful – someone made a working calculator, for cryin’ out loud. Still, I always gravitated towards simple platforming stages to nurture my designing skills. I’m very proud of what I produced in the early months, though I’d seriously need a de-rusting should I ever come back. Most notably, digging in Mario Maker’s weeds has given me a better eye for judging level design in other games. Seeing how titles like Donkey Kong Country follow the “Nintendo Method” is interesting up close.

Further Reading

3. Judgment

So, you want to get into the Yakuza series, and you still won’t play Yakuza 0 for some reason. Well, Judgment is another great place to start. Without any baggage from Kiryu’s odyssey, Judgment focuses on a new cast that’s just as lovable as the old guard. The main character Yagami increasingly grew on me as my hour count ballooned. It’s hard to respect a guy with a wallet chain, but his moral code and lovable nature quickly won me over.

Yagami’s role as a private investigator provided a great backdrop for the numerous side cases, which contain a few gems. I hit the controller's share button constantly to save snapshots of dialogue. The combat still held up even in my fourth game from the studio. While not everything is amazing (tailing missions, how the heck does mahjong work?), Yakuza’s trademark gameplay variety is in full force here. I found the surprising inclusion of an English dub to be a welcome addition. Everyone’s performance was good to great, amplifying a largely enticing central mystery. Wherever the series heads next, I hope we get to see Yagami again before too long.

2. Tetris 99

Last year, I had nothing nice to say about the Nintendo Switch Online program. Turns out that Tetris 99, which is a free download to subscribers, made it absolutely worth the cost. It’s easily my most played online game in a long time. I felt the ups and downs as I came back day after day and actually got good. I never thought I’d say that about a battle royale. The minutes before my first win were more pulse-pounding than anything Umbrella could throw at me.

The developers nailed the speed and tactile sensation you get from fitting pieces together. Sometimes you can lose in an instant to what seems like bad luck, but fighting back and conquering lines at the top of the screen is a power trip like no other. The daily missions and unlocks added later in the year only cemented my addiction. Playing Tetris 99 before bed actually induced the medical Tetris Effect more than the game of the same name. Combined, these two brilliant games make up the yin and yang of Russia’s greatest contribution to mankind.

1. Anodyne 2: Return to Dust

Sometimes, it’s more about the journey than the destination. Anodyne 2 is one of those cases for me. Those who consume a lot of postmodern or “meta” media won’t be surprised by the philosophical questions asked by the game’s story. However, it’s in the smaller moments that Anodyne 2 becomes really special.

The game mixes a standout PS1-esque graphics style with more traditional pixel art, leading to some strangely beautiful low-poly landscapes. Analgesic’s two-person dev team leveraged the medium itself in order to craft a uniquely beautiful land. They also possess the uncanny ability to know exactly what the player is feeling at any given moment. Every little joke made me grin with memories of my beloved Earthbound. As the adventure ramped up, I was continually surprised by each new level’s twist. Exploring New Theeland and encountering the desert dolphin will be moments that stick with me for a long time. With such an imaginative world, it was easy for the story beats to resonate with me. It’s hard to do Anodyne 2 justice in this short write-up, but I really encourage everyone to play it for themselves and experience the journey firsthand.

Further Reading

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I have to say, I was surprised when I saw how this list turned out. Looking at it closely, I realized what the problem was – there’s a DOOM-sized hole in this list! Some people have claimed 2019 to be a “slow year” for games. Personally, I’m glad that the above games had the space to breathe. It made me appreciate them that much more.

I think we’ll also be retroactively glad for the breather period. The first few months of 2020 are packed with huge games, and in fall the next generation will officially begin. Factor in the unexpected wild card announcements, and next year is sure to be one for the history books! Whatever your preferences are, I hope you’re able to find something that speaks to you.

That’s all from me, but I’ll be reading your lists as well! I can’t get enough of them. Happy holidays and happy gaming.

Ah, game creation. Who hasn’t dreamed of dazzling Shigeru Miyamoto with their masterpiece? Or showing off something cool to their friends?

Making a game is one of my many pipe dreams (it seems more likely than entering the Baseball Hall of Fame). Many titles have attempted to gamify game-making, but few are as successful as Super Mario Maker. And to my surprise, the average level found in Super Mario Maker 2 is leagues better than the bulk of the original game. Perhaps this is Nintendo marketing to an older audience, or better curation, or just more serious players. In any case, the half a screen filled with Bowser barf has a highly diminished presence in the sequel.

A lot of creators like to push the game mechanics to their limits with outrageous puzzle levels. Those are cool in their own right, but I’m more interested in making vanilla-ass platforming challenges. In fact, I’ve spent the past month (and change) designing a continuous Mario game.

Nearly every time I try to make a project like this, my ambition outpaces my abilities. A great idea doesn’t count for much if you get frustrated and give up right away. That's pretty much my experiments with Dreams earlier this year in a nutshell. For Mario Maker 2, I’m just taking it one idea at a time.

I can’t say that all my levels are perfect, but they were definitely fun to make. So, here’s an overview of the first two worlds of Untitled Mario Project!

Underwater Escort

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There’s no dearth of YouTube tutorials explaining how to make a good level. The general consensus is to focus each level on a single concept that evolves over the level. So, for my first level in the new game, I gave myself a challenge: Could I take traditionally hated gaming tropes and make them fun?

This led to Underwater Escort, where the player has to take P Switches up a vertical tunnel of water to clear blocks in their way. I actually had a much greater scope for this level originally, where you would have to keep up with the switch on a track. Rising water levels were also part of the plan, but these elements weren’t working the way I had envisioned.

One part of creation that’s been tricky for me is enemy placement. Super Mario Maker 2 has a ton of enemies to pick from, so there’s really something for every situation. Constructing a solid difficulty curve was a challenge in the case of this level. The result is a mishmash of enemies including Hammer Bros, Boo Buddies, and Thwomps. Looking at the death distribution, I somewhat succeeded, though how fun it is is harder to judge. Maybe I’ll revisit this concept in the future.

1-1: Goomba Alley

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Once I finished my first stage, I was ready to start my game proper. I went with the Super Mario Bros. 1 style because it has the least variables. No picking up junk, no flying power-ups, no spin jumping… it’s as pure as you can get.

So, what makes a good 1-1? Well, they always seem to have Goombas, so that’s the theme of this level. But more than that, this was really practice for good platforming flow. Honestly, I’m pretty happy with it! It’s short, but it serves as a good baseline for what the rest of the game will be.

I’m also noticing experiments with enemy modifiers here. Goombas have parachutes and stack on each other, which I haven’t used in any other levels. I’m largely sticking more to what you would find in a Nintendo-made game for the rest.

1-2: Down the Pipes

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As you would expect, level 2 is an underground stage. Unlike the straight shots beforehand, the idea here is to separate small rooms with pipes. Enemies have a much greater presence compared to platforming, which is unusual. No one too crazy shows up, but I threw a Boom-Boom in there.

There’s even a split path where the player can pick between two pipes. The difference is negligible, but it’s fun putting in extra options when designing. We’re still in introductory mode, after all.

1-3: Leapin’ Mushrooms!

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This one’s a sky level! I really went all out with the aesthetics with vines draping off the platforms. Now that’s good form and function.

As the title implies, the gimmick here is the Goomba’s Shoe. Yeah, that’s what it’s called in Mario Maker. “Kuribo” is just the Japanese name for a Goomba. This time, though, the gimmick is more optional. It’s up to you whether to use the shoe for the hidden room and to bounce on hazards, or you could use the vines and avoid it.

Visually, this is probably my favorite level of the bunch. I find the palette of the sky theme really appealing, and the extra touches make it shine that much more.

1-4: Fire Bar Castle

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I remember fire bars as insurmountable obstacles when I first played the original game. I must have tapped into that repressed anxiety for my first castle level. Most of the time, you’re timing jumps on the fire bars to avoid falling into the lava below.

Truthfully, this one feels kinda rushed out there. My design could stand to be tweaked more, though you can skip a segment with some tight jumping. There’s also a “boss fight” with Bowser Jr. at the end… you know, he tries his best. Definitely some room for improvement in future castle levels.

2-1: Desert First

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Why make a game if there’s no desert level? This one is a step up in length from world 1. I put down the first checkpoint in the game, which is always a good practice in my opinion. And the desert gives the opportunity to introduce some of your favorite faces:

Spinies! Hammer Bros! The Angry Sun! It’s good summer vibes all the way down! Just ignore the giant bones everywhere.

2-2: Rivers in the Desert

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I already got bored of the desert, so I added water segments. If you follow the coins, you should be safe from the schools of fish. Actually, the most deaths were in the first few seconds, which you don’t really want to see.

Anyways, this one’s mostly more of the same plus some new enemy encounters. I think the genesis was thinking of desert-related wordplay and going from there. If you don’t know, the title is a reference to a song from Persona 5. Those jumping Cheep Cheeps in Mario 1 are cool, so they’re in here too.

2-3: Desert P

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Now we’re in puzzle territory. Inside the pyramid, P Switches reveal the way forward. The first part of the level is sort of open-ended since you need pink coins to get a key. I had to do some tweaking since P Switches never seem to act like how you would expect…

After two levels about P Switches, I’m probably good without them for a while. The tune that plays when they’re active really dampens the atmosphere I tried to create here. To me, aesthetics can be just as important as the jumping, and I usually try to make both strong. Speaking of, I’m really happy with the way the pyramid looks. I buried some skull platforms inside to add to the creepy factor.

And here’s a secret: You can go left at the end to ride one to the top of the flagpole!

2-4: Casa de Boom-Boom

-Coming Soon-

This level is so new, it’s not even finished yet. I’m trying to refine the curve of Underwater Escort, this time outside of the water. I actually started working on it before the other levels in world 2, but I just couldn’t get it working right. You’re meant to use springs to climb the tower and avoid progressively harder enemies. And of course, Boom-Boom will wait at the top.

Looking back at my earlier levels has strengthened my resolve. If you’re interested in trying my levels, I hope you look forward to my future ideas! And if you have any ideas or feedback, feel free to leave them below. Ciao!

As we all know, E3 is less than a week away! As another year of high-profile announcements draws ever closer, now is the perfect time to unwind with smaller experiences. This week, I played through two very short indie games on the Switch, both published by Devolver Digital and focusing on animal characters. What are the odds, right?

You might already be familiar with Ape Out because of its eye-catching presentation. The whole game has this retro visual and audio treatment evoking 1950s jazz. Hell, the levels are even broken into "albums" and "sides." Every character is a solid silhouette, which looks great in motion from the overhead camera angle. Every level is punctuated with a lone drummer going absolutely mental on a perpetual solo.

The easiest way to describe Ape Out's gameplay is to compare it to Hotline Miami. Only instead of wearing an animal mask, you're an actual gorilla wreaking havoc on some unlucky humans. Your only options are to punch people into puddles of blood, or to grab them and throw them into other things, thereby facilitating their transformation into puddles of blood.

Subtle as they may be, I found that the changes to the Hotline Miami formula worked great in furthering the premise and vibe Ape Out is going for. For one thing, the placement and number of enemies is randomized each time you restart a stage. This game isn't so much about mastery and memorization like Hotline Miami. You are an escaped animal, you aren't really supposed to know your surroundings that well. The random element keeps the player on their toes every attempt. You also get three hit points instead of one. It makes sense that a beefy gorilla can withstand a few shots, but it also feeds into the improvisational element of the jazz aesthetic.

Despite the very limited gameplay opportunities, the environment regularly refreshes itself. The power might go out for a few levels, or bombs start to blow up in the building. There's a sense of continuity to the chaos. You'll fight through four major environments, plus a few surprises. And oh man, the title sequences at the start of each level are some primo material.

The faster this type of game is, the better, and the first areas feel very snappy. Conversely, the second half of the game uses more open spaces and more annoying enemies. It's less about a rampage of wish fulfillment and more about weaving around enemies before they can pop you. What I'm saying is, I don't like the flamethrower guys very much.

Still, Ape Out can be a great time, and it's got the best styyyyle I've seen yet this year. There's a good amount of extra content, too, so don't be put off by the short running time.

My second game is Gato Roboto, which came out just a few days ago. It's an indie Troid-like, which is not typically my favorite genre. Still, its low asking price was enough for me to check it out.

You're a cat named Kiki exploring an abandoned research colony after your ship crashes, with your owner trapped inside. Soon, you find a mech suit and start doing the standard Troid-like stuff: finding upgrades, filling out the map, and fighting enemies.

Gato Roboto feels like a "lite" version of a Troid-like. I did a good amount of exploration, and my playthrough was still under three hours. There are just a handful of small areas to go through. Enemies don't drop anything, so they're only necessary to fight in combat rooms. Every bit of damage takes away a single hit point. Missiles are on a cooldown instead of having ammunition. This was great for me, as I could actually use them without fear of running out.

Other upgrades include a spinny double-jump and an invincible dash that reminded me of Teslagrad, another indie Troid-like. You can also exit the vehicle and run around as the cat to access tight areas. Since the game is so short, the climb in power happens much faster than normal.

Exploring for secrets isn't necessary, but it is fun. It's usually the inverse for me with these games, so this was a pleasant surprise. For the short duration of the game, there's an awesome variety, and I was having some amount of fun the whole time. The boss fights were a surprising highlight, having a good amount of challenge and using different skills each time.

Visually, the game is very similar to Downwell. Just like that game, you can even unlock additional palettes to tint the monochrome graphics. Audio-wise, nothing really stuck out other than the gibberish noises during dialogue, which every game should have.

The only thing I had issue with was the ending, which for me was sudden and somewhat unsatisfying. Since this borrows so much from Metroid, I'm almost positive there are multiple endings for item completion and speed but... eh. I had enough fun that I don't feel the need to dig up every last item.

There you have it, two shots of indie animal antics. I always love a short game with a fun concept, and these both fit the bill. Check them out for a nice few hours when you're in the mood! As for me, maybe I'll make another E3 watchlist this year, if enough things appeal to me. Regardless, thanks for reading, and I'll see you in the next blog.

Much like Dante in DMC5, I have awoken from my months-long slumber and I'm ready to go! Only instead of killing demons, I have an insatiable urge to... blog!!

You know how back in the day, people would say that games are “good rentals?” For many, those opportunities have sadly dried up. The decay of stores like Blockbuster has left the state of game rentals in a bad place. Unless you can borrow a copy from a friend, you’re usually better off playing through your streaming service of choice, waiting for a sale, or just biting the bullet and buying it outright.

I mention this because at a completely unrelated trip to my local library this week, I noticed that they had begun lending out fairly new games. That included Devil May Cry 5, which had been on my wish list for a while. Since action games tend to have short campaigns, I checked out the game without a second thought and eagerly began plugging away.

Before now, DMC was one of the many important franchises that I’ve never touched. I knew there’s a Dante and a Vergil, and that at some point someone’s dark soul was meant to be filled with light. No real story details beyond that. I am a fan of its stepsister series Bayonetta, plus other Platinum games like The Wonderful 101 and Metal Gear Rising. However, despite thoroughly enjoying their tone and characters, I would not consider myself “good” at those games.

To be honest, I was kind of put off by the fanbase surrounding DMC. I’ve wandered into some Discord servers where hyperfans sneer at those unable to form artful combos at impossible difficulty levels. In order to get the most enjoyment possible, I made the executive decision to set DMC5 to the easiest level, called Human.

I know, someone out there probably just got a heart attack. I cheated not only the game, but myself, etc. Don’t worry about it. Seeing as I had a limited window to get my fill, I didn’t want to have any trouble.

To DMC5’s credit, Human mode gave me exactly what I wanted. The game proper was probably designed for committed players with more time on their hands, but easy mode let me through the whole way while still asking for a minimal amount of skill.

For those unaware, the game has not one, but three characters to master. With some exceptions, the player is forced to use a specific one in each level the first time through. All three feel fully featured with seemingly endless weapons and techniques, both inherent and unlockable. And surprising to me, they are totally distinct in feel.

First up is Nero, another “blue dude with ‘tude” from Capcom. Out of the three characters, he was probably my least favorite to play (However, his battle music, “Devil Trigger,” is an unexpected earworm). While Nero has a lot of tools at his disposal, I never felt like I fully understood them all. For starters, he can rev his sword for more damage, but at no point did I grasp timing of that mechanic.

The big new thing this time is Nero’s suite of Devil Breakers, mechanical arms that give him new abilities in combat. These could have been implemented better, in all honesty. In total there are a… handful of arms that each have different properties. For example, one is made for flying enemies, one is focused on grappling, and another simply buffs Nero’s other attacks.

Devil Breakers are consumable items, and they will break if Nero takes a hit while using them. Replacements can be bought in the shop or found scattered in levels, though there must be an empty space to pick them up. Strangely, there’s no way to switch your equipped Breaker on command without destroying it. Am I supposed to intentionally do so if I have an arm that’s better for the situation? The intricacies of the myriad arms never clicked for me. I would have preferred one or two arms with more customization options, as the management aspect did not improve my playthrough.

V is the new kid, a Kylo Ren-looking weirdo with sandals and a book of 101 poems. He has to rely on three summoned creatures to fight for him, then V has to land the finishing blow. V has the fewest options of the characters, which makes him the mashiest. By accident, I was able to build SSS combos on a fairly regular basis. To my knowledge, this is a new way to play an action game, and I give them credit for experimentation. Despite that, I imagine V is too passive for many people.

In the end, Dante ended up being my favorite. First of all, I love his attitude during the whole thing. While V is in constant pain and Nero has a debilitating Napoleon complex, Dante is never not having fun. I have no idea if this is correct, but in my head the series is taking place in real time and Dante is fighting demons well into his forties. He certainly looks the part, and all I can do is hope I enjoy myself that much at his age.

Dante has far and away the most options of the three. I was worried I would be overwhelmed, but I could mostly wrap my head around it (though the forgiving difficulty certainly helped). Dante has four styles to switch between, swappable weapons with independent movesets, and two super modes that add even more complexity. A fully pimped-out Dante has a dictionary full of potential moves. Thankfully, the game makes some attempt to ease you in, adding more moves later.

Dante could have probably carried the game on his own; however, he isn’t playable until halfway through. It’s not that Nero and V aren’t fun, but I would have liked more levels with Dante. In general, I found the character limitations pretty disappointing, though you can go back with the other guys if you want.

I want to keep my criticism light, but my biggest problem with the game is there are only two major environments. You’re either in a busted-up city or a gross demon tree. With a few exceptions, I can’t identify individual levels from each other, especially in the late game. Looking at Platinum games that often go all around the world and beyond, it feels like a missed opportunity.

Another element that doesn’t match the Platinum standard is the over-the-top attitude I’ve come to expect. It’s fine if the game takes itself slightly more seriously than Bayonetta, but I’d prefer if it didn’t. The opening credits are sufficiently bonkers, but it goes away after that. Much later, Dante does a whole Michael Jackson dance routine, and I wanted to yell, “YES! That’s what I’ve been missing!” Outside of those instances, the wackiness is pretty limited.

Finally, I was left hanging by the last boss. The first phase was a difficulty spike for sure – it gave me my only death of the playthrough – but afterwards, it’s largely the same fight as a different character. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to see The Other Guy I Knew (and not just from English class), but I expected a huge boss monster to follow that just didn’t happen. Also, his plan is 100% Xehanort, and that is NEVER a good thing.

Now that I’ve finished the game, I have to say I’m glad I didn’t pay anything for it. I don’t mean to sound that harsh, but while I enjoyed DMC5, it probably doesn’t hold $45 in value for me. Maybe one day I’ll go back on a harder difficulty and – who am I kidding, I always write this crap at the end and then I never do it. Anyway, I’m excited to go back to the library and check out more stuff.

What about you? Any recent experience renting games? Furious at my difficulty choices? Recommendations? Let me know, and until next time, happy gamin’.

We all want what we can't have.

Before every Nintendo Direct, the live chat is always tittering about something or other. Animal Crossing, Pokémon, whatever. These games will come. But there’s one request that only seems to get louder each time.

Mother 3.

“Come on Reggie, give us Mother 3!” yelled a puppet nerd at E3 a couple years ago. The community was ecstatic to get any recognition, even as Reggie burned the guy alive.

Hearts leapt when Lucas, the game’s protagonist, was reintroduced into Super Smash Bros. as DLC. He was a stark contrast against the rest of the DLC characters, the Fire Emblem swordsmen and anime dudes.

In 2015, series creator Shigesato Itoi announced that Mother 1, retitled EarthBound Beginnings, would finally come to the west after over 20 years. Could the same happen to Mother 3, wondered fans?

Mother 3 released on the Game Boy Advance in 2006, after the Nintendo DS had already overtaken it. Yet nearly 13 years later, hopes for the game to be officially localized are somehow still alive.

Why is this game still being talked about all these years later? What’s so special about it that fans won’t let it go? Even with a fantastic fan translation available, why do we still crave it?

“Mother 3 tomorrow for sure,” I tweeted on the 12^th. I was joking, of course. But there remained a part of me, however small, that hoped I could will it to be true.

A few days earlier, a news story made the rounds that Nintendo had indeed once attempted to localize Mother 3. However, some of the more controversial elements of the game deterred them from completing the work.

Is that true? Is Mother 3 impossible to adapt to a western audience? I don’t think so.

I want to look at these controversial elements of the game. Using Nintendo’s own precedent for localization and the current climate of gaming, I believe that these elements can be rewritten into something Nintendo can be comfortable selling outside of Japan.

I’m going to explain how Nintendo could, would, and should finally localize Mother 3.

How could they?

Make no mistake, Mother 3 is one of the darkest games to hold the Nintendo seal of approval. To an outside observer, it appears to be a colorful, kiddy RPG. But there are serious themes of loss, trauma, and despair for basically the whole story. What Lucas and company go through is tragic. But I think that’s a big part of why the game has stayed alive for so long.

EarthBound has its share of uncomfortable moments, too. Most famously, the final battle against Giygas uses horrifying imagery and text. The legend is that Itoi based it off a rape scene he saw in a movie as a child, though the veracity of that has been debated. EarthBound starts as a jolly, weird trek through small-town America, but its disturbing final hours have birthed untold amounts of discussion.

Mother 3, on the other hand, uses its darker moments to develop real pathos. It’s not uncommon for a player’s first playthrough to end with tears (and the playthroughs after that, too). More than either of the prior games, Mother 3 is emotional. “No crying until the end” is a series mantra, but it’s the third entry that sincerely earns it. That’s why it’s still alive.

When EarthBound was rereleased on the Wii U, it got a T rating from the ESRB. However, it also sold quite well on the struggling platform due to the reputation the game had earned over the years. With a little work, Mother 3 could easily earn a T, even if it wouldn’t in its current form.

The primary offender cited by the recent article is the Magypsies. What’s a Magypsy? They’re the equivalent of the seven wise sages in every other RPG. They guard the needles that protect the world. For holding that role in the story, though, they’re portrayed very unconventionally.

While the Magypsies behave and identify as females, their genders are not easily pinned down. Characters use both male and female pronouns to refer to them. Some also have facial hair. The description in the fan translation reads, “these men are more ladylike than ladies are.”

I am in no way equipped to discuss gender politics in 2006 or in 2019, but I do know that Nintendo has dealt with this scenario on many occasions.

Who could forget Birdo’s infamous gender confusion? Some still believe that Birdo is or once was a man, but in the west she’s been female for decades. Vivian from Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door is said to be transgender in some versions. Gracie the Giraffe in Animal Crossing is male in Japan, but female overseas.

Whether or not the current state of the Magypsies is offensive or not (I really couldn’t say), in a scenario where Mother 3 was being localized, Nintendo would almost certainly remove this aspect of their characters. Considering the above precedent, I don’t believe that the Magypsies would be an impassable roadblock. Changing a few pronouns and character designs would be no different than some of the other choices they’ve made.

One of the Magypsies is involved with one of several sexually-themed scenes in the game. That scene in particular is uncomfortable for most westerners who play the game. It’s not clear what exactly is happening, or how the audience is supposed to interpret the scene, but the writing makes it clear what is being evoked.

In this case, writing and context is everything. I would absolutely change that scene to make it more palatable for a western audience. However, I can fairly easily think of how it could be rewritten and relocated to change the context.

Beyond that, there’s a joke about sexual harassment that I think is really funny, but it plays way differently in this climate. A few other quick moments go slightly beyond the typical Nintendo game. However, I don’t believe any of these scenes are beyond changing.

There are probably countless examples of Nintendo making those changes, but the one that immediately springs to mind is Fire Emblem Fates. The Japanese version has a whole face-petting minigame that was stripped out of the English release.

This was a controversial choice. Some thought it was unneeded censorship, while others realized it’s a really creepy thing to put in your game. I think Nintendo was in the right to remove the face-petting, and I can’t imagine that rewriting a few scenes in Mother 3 would be more difficult.

The hardest part to change would be a mushroom-induced drug trip on a tropical island. Even putting aside that cartoon drug trips have been a thing since Dumbo, it wouldn’t be that hard to recontextualize. Just make it a dream sequence instead of hallucinogens. They would definitely need to change some of the dialogue from said hallucinations, which can be unsettling. But anything could be plugged into those interactions due to their nature.

For context, the first Uncharted game has a T rating. Nathan Drake shoots and kills close to a thousand people, and it’s apparently not over the M line. I think Mother 3 in its current state could have a T rating, and changing the offending elements would surely put it there. Since EarthBound has a T rating, Nintendo clearly doesn’t mind it being associated with the series.

Taking all of that into account, I don’t believe that modern-day Nintendo would be unable to translate Mother 3 strictly because of the risqué elements. That means localizing Mother 3 is a matter of will they, not can they. So why don’t they? The answer is more complicated than you might think.

When would they?

Nintendo of America has much less power than many realize. Reggie doesn’t have a Mother 3 button in his office that he stares at every day, laughing in spite. Other branches of Nintendo need approval from Japan before they can do much of anything.

I’ve been in love with the Mother series for years, but I didn’t find out until very recently that the fandom is completely different in Japan than in the west.

To western audiences, EarthBound is the definition of a cult classic. It sold very poorly in America due to terrible marketing, and it wasn’t released at all in Europe. But the game is so special that it grew a small, incredibly dedicated fanbase.

People say that all fandoms are terrible, but I have never seen anything from the EarthBound community I didn’t love. Everyone is held together by a passion for this incredibly weird, quirky, beautiful game. It inspires fan art, music albums, documentaries, and even cookbooks. EarthBound was the ultimate underdog, the neglected child kept around only through memories and Super Smash Bros.

When EarthBound finally saw a rerelease on Wii U, it was like a weight had been lifted. Nintendo seemed to know the game was special, and they treated it differently than the rest of the virtual console games. It was a big success.

EarthBound finally got the chance it deserved. For the people who had stuck with it for so long, it was vindication for nearly 20 years of passion. Ness wasn’t just the guy from Smash anymore.

Mother 3 had an even greater aura of mystique. It never made it outside of Japan officially, which just added to the legend. The fan translation has shown thousands how great the game truly is. To keep such a special game out of westerners’ hands seems like a crime. How could they?

Well, Japan doesn’t think the same way. It shocked me to learn that Mother 3 wasn’t actually very popular in its original country. In fact, the whole series is viewed differently over there. The first and second Mother games are remembered as “those games I played when I was a kid.” They’re just a footnote in the long and varied career of Itoi.

Was it the timing of Mother 3 that dampened its reception? The darker story and themes? The state of the genre at that point? Maybe a little of all of them. In the west, Mother 3 is the holy grail that was kept away from us, and we had to take it back. In Japan, it’s nothing amazing. Of course, I’m speaking generally, and the actual situation may be different than how I understand it.

The release of EarthBound Beginnings in the west is not analogous to a prospective Mother 3 localization. Mother 1 was already translated, but never came out until decades later. While Mother 3 may have begun translation, as indicated by the recent rumor, it was never finished. There would have to be a certain opportunity for the game to get a proper localization.

Knowing the relationship between the branches of Nintendo, the only way to get that opportunity is for the game to be reissued or remade. Knowing Mother 3’s Japanese reputation, it doesn’t seem like that opportunity is incredibly likely. It was released on the Japanese Wii U Virtual Console, but it stayed exclusive to that region.

On the Switch, Nintendo’s classic game library is a husk of its former self. As of this writing, only NES games have been offered in their subscription service. While it would be great to have EarthBound Beginnings added to that list, the current situation is pretty pathetic. The Wii incarnation of the Virtual Console had games from Nintendo’s first three consoles, as well as some from then-rivals. The Wii U kept it Nintendo-only but added Game Boy Advance and DS.

The current state of the Switch makes it unlikely for this specific GBA game to come back as-is. People are always dreaming of a remade collection of the trilogy, but that’s sadly nothing more than a fantasy at the moment.

Why should they?

Aside from its original release, this is the best time in history to release Mother 3. The Switch is the new haven of RPGs after the migration from the 3DS and PS Vita. In fact, tons of small, quirky games are enjoying success on the Switch, even more than on other platforms. And I can’t diminish Undertale and its ilk, which are unabashedly inspired by EarthBound. The climate is right for Mother 3 to thrive.

Some people say that the fan translation is good enough. In fact, it’s probably better than what Nintendo would put out officially. The translation is a basically pure version of the game, free of the changes and censorship an official localization would bring. It’s readily available in rom form and on reproduction cartridges that can be played on official hardware. What’s the point?

The amazing team that translated the game did so because Mother 3 is special. Because of their work, everyone can experience it. But an official translation would mean that, finally, Nintendo realizes it’s special.

The story may be subjective, but Mother 3 certainly has the best gameplay of the trilogy. Rhythmic attacks add some needed depth to EarthBound’s combat system. Environments are creative and memorable. New characters and scenarios are introduced so that the experience is never stale, as happens to many RPGs.

I’m of the opinion that the GBA sound chip is typically awful. Mother 3 has the best music on the system, period. Shogo Sakai must be a genius, because the instruments sound incredible. There’s not a bad song in the whole soundtrack, which jumps between genres, tempos, and time signatures.

The spritework is effective and expressive. There are so many little touches to the animation that’s rarely found in most games.

Every character has a story. Most RPGs are content to have a few repeating generic NPCs, but Mother 3 has a whole village of individuals that develop and change over the game. The player barely gets to know Lucas and his family before they’re fully invested in their story, and they want more than anything to give them a happy ending.

The story will make you cry.

Do we deserve Mother 3?

Mother 3 deserves us.

Mother 3 deserves the second chance that the first two games got. It deserves to be recognized for the art that it is. It deserves to be more than a meme before Nintendo Directs, and it deserves to be more than a set of references in Smash.

Lucas deserves happiness.

I barely realized, but I’m writing this on Valentine’s Day. Lucas’s signature attack is PK Love, and the game’s theme song is the Love Theme. Mother 3 is a game about love struggling against hate. It shows the worst and best aspects of humanity personified in a clash for the fate of life.

I truly believe that one day, though not any day soon, it will finally come here. That's the optimism the series is built on.

When and if it ever does, remember…

No crying until the end.