Surprise! The Year of the GameBoy Continues: Bubble Ghost

OK, so every year seems to be the "Year of the GameBoy" around these parts. Sue me!

The fact is, I'm still madly in love with Nintendo's first portable system and its fine catalog of games. Sure, the latter includes a slew of crappy titles, but the same can be said of most handhelds. Plus, for me, the GameBoy's best gems are so enjoyable they make it easy to overlook its unplayable turds.

Speaking of my on-going love affair with this brick-like device (I'm talking about its design here, not its abilities), I've currently got a burr up my butt about whittling down the GameBoy portion of my lengthy gaming bucket list.

That's why I recently acquired the cart that serves as this post's focus, actually. Well, that played a role, at least. Also relevant: Bubble Ghost's adorable cover art.

And it is pretty darn adorable, wouldn't you agree?

To be honest, I'm not sure which piece of Bubble Ghost GameBoy box art I like more: the one created for Japan or the one created for North America and Europe.



Regardless, both are easy on the eyes. And both sport the same oh-so-appealing logo.

In terms of overall packaging, though, I've got to go with Japan's GameBoy port of the game. I like that it offers up random pops of color--such as the hint of teal at the top of its box front, or the vibrant pink that's splashed across its side flaps.

That same pink shows up as an accent color on the game box's back side, while a shockingly bright yellow blankets the remainder of its surface.

Similarly appealing hues can be found on every piece of Bubble Ghost's packaging. A case in point: the subdued, bubblegum-y pink featured on the game's instruction manual. Also, the banana yellow that covers its cartridge label.

OK, so the copy I recently bought and that's on display throughout this post isn't immaculate. I don't mind that as much as you might imagine. Sure, I'd love it if it were in perfect condition, but as long as it doesn't look like a dog chewed on it, I'm OK with a couple of creased manual pages or a few frayed box edges.



After all, what really matters is that the cartridge is works. And that's exactly the case here. Which is great, as Bubble Ghost is yet another of those intriguing titles that is perfectly suited to the GameBoy.

That probably sounds funny to those of you who know a bit about its history. For those of you who don't, Bubble Ghost began life in 1987 as an Atari ST game. In that release, and the numerous other PC ports that followed in the original's footsteps, players controlled the titular ghoul using a mouse.

A press of the space bar or shift key prompts the little guy to blow out a puff of air in those versions--which is important, as this is what allows you to guide the bubble mentioned in the game's title through the many halls of a haunted house.

In this GameBoy iteration (remake, really), developed by Opera House, the system's directional pad moves the pixelated specter and its face buttons produce the needed puff of air.

The latter control scheme works surprisingly well. Also, the GameBoy's archaic hardware doesn't do much to hold back Bubble Ghost's graphics or gameplay. In other words, this cartridge is well worth checking out if you're like me and you're still interested in playing decades-old handheld games.

See also: previous 'Year of the GameBoy' posts about Noobow, Peetan and Tumblepop.

Special delivery: Kaneko's Peetan for GameBoy

I don't think I've ever mentioned this here or anywhere else, but for some time now I've dutifully--some would say obsessively--maintained a list of "Holy Grail" GameBoy titles.

Basically, the games named on it are ones I desperately want to own before I kick the bucket.

The list used to be pretty long. I've been able to lop a number of games off of it in recent years, months and weeks, though, thanks to some timely perusals of eBay, Yahoo Japan Auctions and the like.



A few of the titles that have made the transition from my handy text file to my grubby little hands: Tumblepop, Totsugeki! Ponkotsu Tank, Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe, Snow Bros. Jr., Painter Momopie, Noobow, Bubble Bobble Junior and Astro Rabby.

Oh, and Kaneko's Peetan.

Tracking down and acquiring a complete-in-box copy of that 1991, Japan-only release has been more difficult than you might think. After all, the game rarely pops up on any of the auction sites or online shops I eluded to earlier, and when it does, it usually goes for an obscene amount of money. (Here's a good example.)

So, when I came across the far-cheaper-than-four-hundred-dollars copy of Peetan showcased in the photos found throughout this post, you can bet I jumped on it.

It's not perfect. The colorful outer box is ever-so-slightly torn on its rear side, and the instruction manual is a bit crumpled. Still, it's complete and the game cartridge works like a charm, so I'm more than satisfied.

If you've never played, or even heard of, Peetan, the gist is that it's a lot like one of those old Game & Watch titles Nintendo produced during the 1980s. How so? Well, the whole she-bang is depicted in black and white (or black and green, if you're using an original GameBoy model), for starters. Also, each and every stage sticks to the confines of the brick-like handheld system's screen.

Beyond that, Peetan's gameplay is refreshingly simple. You control a mama chicken who patrols the top fifth of the play area. Below her are a trio of helpless chicks as well as a bunch of seesaws. Throwing a wrench into the works: a hungry mutt (or wolf) who has his eyes--and terrifying chops--set on the above-mentioned hatchlings.

As he stalks your offspring, you press the GameBoy's directional pad to move left or right and jab its A or B buttons to drop eggs that either knock the canid on the head or catapult your chicks toward safety (aka the top of the screen).

It's all rather stressful--something that probably isn't obvious in this Peetan gameplay footage--although the boppy tunes that percolate in the background help cut the tension a bit. (But only a bit.)

Would Peetan have earned a place on the "must buy" list mentioned early on in this post if its gameplay weren't so compelling and exciting? Honestly, I think it would have. Look at that cover art and tell me you wouldn't say the same--if you had any interest in collecting GameBoy titles, I mean.

This Inter State-made game's instruction manual's quite a looker, too, although I hesitate to compare it to its cartridge label. (Don't take my word for it; flip through the Peetan manual yourself.) Still, I'm sure you get the point: that Peetan's packaging is top notch all the way around.

What do you think? Also, have any of you played this old game? If so, what did you think of it?

See also: 'Nu-Bo, Nuubou, Noobow, New--oh, whatever...'

Nu-Bo, Nuubou, Noobow, New--oh, whatever...

I've wanted to own this curious puzzler-platformer since I first became aware of it three years ago. (You can read my thoughts on that introduction in "His name is Noobow and I want his game.")

A year after I made Noobow's acquaintance, I came across (and quickly snapped up, naturally) the complete-in-box copy of the game showcased in the photos below.

Considering the insane prices some other obscure Japanese GameBoy titles go for these days--search eBay for Phantasm or Peetan, if you'd like proof--I got this copy for an absolute steal.

Of course, I would've been willing to spend a lot more than I did to acquire Noobow, as its packaging is the definition of "top shelf."

I mean, just look at the photo above as well as the three that follow. Every edge of Noobow's box features a little illustration of the titular character, who was an anime and manga star back in the early 1990s. 

The adorable "Noobow waving" drawing seen in the snapshot below also appears on this game's cartridge label, by the way. 

Here's the back of Noobow's box. Actually, it's just two-thirds of the back of its box; I didn't include the rest of it because a partially removed price sticker covers its lower third. 

Don't worry, I'll get rid of it eventually. (I've read that Goo Gone works pretty well in these kinds of situations as long as you don't overdo it.) After I do, maybe I'll take a few new photos and add them to my Flickr photostream.

Thankfully, the game's instruction manual is in no need of that sort of attention.

Unsurprisingly, it's stuffed with a number of so-cute-I-could-puke illustrations.

If you'd like to see more of Noobow's aww-inspiring (FYI: I made that typo on purpose) instruction pamphlet, keep your eyes peeled for another installment of my long-running "Manual Stimulation" series.

In the meantime, have any of you fine folks played this 1992, Japan-only GameBoy title? If so, what are your impressions of it?

If you haven't, I'd highly recommend checking it out via emulation as soon as you're able. It won't blow your mind, but I'm pretty sure it'll bring a smile to your face.

Yet Another Year of the GameBoy: Tumblepop

To know me--or at least the part of me that enjoys playing video games--is to know that I love single-screen platformers.

If this is the first time you've come across that phrase, it's basically used to describe and categorize games like Bubble Bobble and Don Doko Don and Snow Bros.

Also, despite this genre's name, not all of the games included under its umbrella stick to a single screen. Taito's Parasol Stars is a good example.

The game I'm covering here, Data East's Tumblepop, is another example. Or at least its GameBoy port is, as some of its many, many stages scroll to cover more than that handheld's standard screen acreage.

That's not really the point of this post, though. (Don't worry, I'll talk about this portable version's gameplay, graphics and soundtrack in an upcoming write-up.) The point is to applaud the wonderful packaging Data East produced for the Japanese GameBoy port of Tumblepop.

I mean, seriously, look at the lovely piece of art that's plastered across the cover of Tumblepop's box.

OK, so I guess it's kind of weird that the game's title is a bit off-center, but I can deal with that when everything else is so on point.



I especially love how the pumpkin enemy's claws (or at least I think those claws belong to old pumpkin head) are gouging the ground before it--you know, because it's being sucked into a super-powered vacuum.

In case you weren't aware, the protagonists in Tumblepop wield vacuum cleaners and use them to suck up baddies and spit them back out at other baddies. As for why they do this, well, I'm not entirely sure, although I have a feeling the game or its manual explains it in some loosely acceptable manner.



The back of Tumblepop's box (see above and below) gives viewers a better look at this, er, weapon of mass de-suck-tion, in case you're curious.

Somewhat unfortunately, both Tumblepop's car label and manual cover feature the same piece of art that's found on the front of its box. Oh, well, at least it's a nice piece of art.

Also, at least the manual cover strips some of the color out of the art--which is pretty par for the course when it comes to Japanese GameBoy manuals. (Here is one more example, and here's yet another.) 

The interior of Tumblepop's instruction manual is anything but "par for the course," if you ask me. I especially like that the art style utilized for its illustrations is a bit different from the one utilized for its cover art. 

As for Tumblepop's in-game aesthetics, I'd describe them as acceptable. Obviously they're hurt by the fact that they're black and white (or black and green) rather than the full spectrum of the rainbow, but besides that they're also a bit ... basic? Bland?

That's not meant to cast aspersions on this portable port, by the way. Even with the somewhat uninspired visuals, Tumblepop for GameBoy is a fun little single-screen platformer.

Like I said earlier, I'll publish a write-up that more thoroughly critiques this title's gameplay shortly. In the meantime, you should consider heading over to my Flickr photostream, especially if you'd like to see a couple more photos of its lovely packaging.

See also: previous '(Another) Year of the GameBoy' posts

Another Year of the GameBoy: Seiken Densetsu

Like most people my age who have enjoyed video games since they were youngsters, I distinctly remember my reaction to Seiken Densetsu's unveiling in the early 1990s.

"It's like Final Fantasy and The Legend of Zelda blended together!"

(And in case you're wondering, yes, this is the exact same reaction I had to Secret of Mana's unveiling a few years later--which makes sense, as that game's Japanese title, as most of you surely know, is Seiken Densetsu 2.)

Did the reality of Seiken Densetsu live up to that fantasy once I finally was allowed to put it through its paces? I'd say so.

Sure, the game--renamed Final Fantasy Adventure in North America and Mystic Quest in Europe--isn't as deep as its 16-bit sequel, but it was more than deep enough for my teenage self. Hell, it's more than deep enough for my no-longer-teenage self.

Which should go a long way toward explaining why I finally picked up a complete-in-box copy of the Japanese version of this much-loved action RPG a couple of months ago.

I'm not sure why I waited so long, to be honest. I mean, just look at the photos included in this post. I'd want to own that box and cartridge and instruction manual even if I only kind of liked Seiken Densetsu's gameplay.

I especially love the little enemy illustrations that are hidden on the box's inner flaps. 

Seiken Densetsu's cartridge label is pretty darn nice, too--don't get me wrong. I guess it's the least exciting portion of this particular package thanks to the fact that it uses elements that also can be found on the front of the game's outer box, but I like that cart art is more minimalist.

As for this GameBoy title's manual, well, just take a gander at the snapshot above. A number of similarly great illustrations fill the remainder of its instruction booklet. 

Speaking of which, I'll do my best to scan and share--in another of my "Manual Stimulation" posts--the Seiken Densetsu manual in its entirety sooner rather than later. I know I've said that before, but I hope to make good on all of those promises shortly.

In the meantime, are any of you fans of Seiken Densetsu--or Mystic Quest or Final Fantasy Adventure? If so, please share your thoughts and memories in the comments section below.

See also: previous '(Another) Year of the GameBoy' and 'Nice Package!' posts

Another Year of the GameBoy: Lock 'n' Chase

I had my eye on the GameBoy port of Lock 'n' Chase for a long time before I finally added it to my collection.

Why the wait? Well, to tell you the truth, I thought Lock 'n' Chase's gameplay looked kind of boring until I experienced it for myself.

Thankfully, a few months ago I went ahead and picked up a copy of this 1990 release despite my misgivings. I say "thankfully" here because now that I've thoroughly put this portable version of Lock 'n' Chase through its paces, I'd describe it as anything but a yawner.



Is it as worthy of praise as the Namco-made quarter-munching classic--that would be the original Pac-Man--that clearly inspired it? No, but how many games of this type are as worthy of praise?

Lock 'n' Chase does what it can to earn your attention even though it's "only" a Pac-Man clone at heart.

A good example is the game's behatted protagonist, who is as cute as a button and, at least initially, seems more visually interesting than his pellet-chomping counterpart.

The badge-sporting "baddies"--Lock 'n' Chase's equivalent to Pac-Man's multi-colored ghosties--are similarly adorable. Plus, they sport names like Stiffy (see below), which give them a leg up on the latter game's Pinky and Clyde.

And there are the different treasures--coins, money bags and jewels--that Lock 'n' Chase's main character nabs as he runs around each stage. They're quite an improvement over Pac-Man's "Power Pellets," don't you think?

Aside from all of that, though, Lock 'n' Chase doesn't do a whole lot to differentiate itself from Namco's genre-creating effort. I mean, the levels in the former often take up more than a single screen, but that's not always a positive.



Also, Lock 'n' Chase's levels are far less symmetrical than Pac-Man's but, again, that's just as liable to be annoying or off-putting than it is to be entertaining.

Still, this Data East title is worth checking out if you've got a GameBoy of some sort or other and you're looking for a cartridge that will grab your attention when you've got a few minutes of free time.

This is especially true if you can find a Japanese copy of the game. After all, the various aspects of that version's packaging feature some really spiffy illustrations, as you can see in the photos included throughout this post.

Another Year of the GameBoy: Pri Pri Primitive Princess! (Sunsoft, 1990)

I think I may be the only person on earth who even slightly enjoys Sunsoft's Pri Pri Primitive Princess! for the GameBoy.

OK, so that's probably overstating things a bit, but it's an easy overstatement to make considering every person I've chatted with on line about this game and every review of it I've read (here's one example) has ripped it to shreds.

Granted, I'm overly fond of the single-screen platformer genre, which includes such all-time classics as Bubble Bobble, Don Doko Don, Snow Bros. and many others. 

In other words, I may be more willing than most to give a rather rough offering a break. 

It helps, of course, that Pri Pri's gameplay seems to have been inspired by one of my favorite single-screen platformers, The Berlin Wall. 

Don't take that as me saying Pri Pri is anywhere near as polished as that Kaneko-made quarter-muncher (which earned a rather wonderful Game Gear port). Still, my experience with the former hasn't been as tortuous as that of many others.

And even if Pri Pri Primitive Princess is a turd, it's a turd wrapped in some rather beautiful paper, don't you think?

I especially love its cover art, which can be seen in the first two photos that kick off this blog post.

This Japan-only GameBoy title from 1990 also sports an impressively produced instruction manual, as evidenced by the snapshot above.

It's not quite at the level as, say, Konagi's Famicom games or Taito's PC Engine efforts from the same period, but it's still pretty great.

Another aspect of Pri Pri's packaging that earns brownie points from me is that the little flaps that help keep its box closed are branded with adorable illustrations.

Oh, and the striped, kaleidoscopic logo that's not too far away is kind of cool, too, if you ask me.



So, what do you think? Do Pri Pri Primitive Princess' box, cartridge and manual help make up for the fact that its gameplay isn't as compelling as could be? Or do you think all of the above are on the "meh" side, too?

See also: previous 'Year of the GameBoy' and 'Another Year of the GameBoy' posts

Another Year of the GameBoy: Astro Rabby

A couple of weeks ago, I included a few paragraphs about this weird, Japan-only GameBoy release in my latest "Shall We Do It?" post.

Those of you who read that write-up probably got the feeling that I'm sort of "on the fence" when it comes to Astro Rabby, which was developed by a company called Cyclone System and published by another known as IGS.

Actually, that's not completely accurate, as I definitely like Astro Rabby more than I hate it. In fact, the only part of this overhead action game is its between-worlds bonus rounds, which are hair-pullingly confounding.

Other than those few misfires, though, Astro Rabby's actually pretty fun--although I'm sure some will find it a bit archaic.

That I mostly enjoy this Jumping Flash-esque effort is a very good thing, of course, as if I didn't, I probably wouldn't own a copy of it--which would be a crying shame, as its outer box (pictured above) is pretty darn great, don't you think?

(Full disclosure: I actually bought Astro Rabby before I played it for even a single moment--and mainly because of its awesome box art.)

The rest of Astro Rabby's packaging is worth noting, too, if you ask me. OK, so its cartridge label (above) is only so-so, but its instruction manual more than makes up for it, as you'll see in a second.

Don't worry, the cover of Astro Rabby's manual isn't its high point--although I personally think its use of dark gray, white and various shades of pink is surprisingly appealing.

Now we're getting somewhere, right? Yes, the back of Astro Rabby's instruction booklet definitely is a looker--or at least the illustration that's featured on it is one.

The inside pages of this manual are no different, with a number of nice drawings included throughout (some of which are highlighted in the "Story" page photo above).

I'll scan the entirety of this sucker soon and share all of them in an upcoming installment of my long-lived "Manual Stimulation" series. In the meantime, though, have any of you played Astro Rabby--even via emulation? If so, what do you think of it?

See also: previous 'Another Year of the GameBoy' posts