Five overlooked Famicom games you need to play as soon as possible

In my two previous "five overlooked games" posts, I focused on Japanese PlayStation and PC Engine titles. (Here's the PlayStation post, and here's the PC Engine post, in case you're interested.)

This one, of course, focuses on Famicom titles.

I know what some of you are thinking. Wait, there are overlooked Famicom titles? The system was released all the way back in 1983. How could any of its games be considered "hidden" gems? My reply: please consider the following.

Banana--This is one of those "don't judge it by its cover" games. And when I say cover, I'm not talking about Banana's box cover, which is the definition of cute. No, I'm talking about the screenshot above. Yes, this Victor Interactive Software-made and -published title (from 1986) is far from a looker, but I love its dynamic soundtrack and its action-puzzler gameplay, which is equal parts grin-inducing and brain-cramping. For more on why I'm such a big fan of Banana, read these previous posts of mine.

Door Door--Admittedly, this isn't an overlooked Famicom game in Japan. In fact, as far as I'm aware, it's actually considered a classic there. Elsewhere in the world, though, it's an unknown quantity at best. That's a shame, because aside from some unfortunate slowdown, Door Door is a real gem, with single-screen gameplay that recalls--without improperly aping--classics like BurgerTime and Wrecking Crew. Bonus: its protagonist and enemies are the most precious things you're going to come across this week, and likely this month--though its box art and instruction manual may have something to say about that.

Moai-kun--Many of the games Konami made and published during the 8-bit era are understandably regarded as classics today. Why isn't this one of them? I don't have a clue, although I wouldn't be surprised if its status as a Japan-only release has a little something to do with it. Still, it's 2016, and that sort of thing no longer really matters. So why do I think Moai-kun deserves a spot next to titles like Castlevania, Contra, Gradius, Goemon and Metal Gear? Because it stars a Moai figure, for starters. Also, its gameplay is like a sideview version of HAL Laboratory's Adventures of Lolo. And then there's the fact that Moai-kun's box art is among the best the Famicom has to offer.

Otocky--This Famicom Disc System game used to have a much lower profile than it does today. What prompted that uptick in interest? The release and embrace of Nintendo's Electroplankton for DS. Both games were conceived and designed by Japanese artist Toshio Iwai, and the popularity of the latter game prompted curiosity about the former. Which is great, as Otocky is a far more enjoyable--not to mention traditional--experience than Electroplankton, in my humble opinion. Of course, what else would you expect from a game that adds a smidgen of music-creation to the side-scrolling shmup genre? (By the way, if you own a console that accepts FDS discs, you owe it to yourself to buy a complete-in-box copy of Otocky. Its outer box, case and manual--all showcased in this old post of mine--are worth the price of admission alone.)

Warpman--If Bomberman and Robotron mated, not only would it be kind of kinky, but the product of their procreation would be this home port of an old Namco arcade game called Warp & Warp. That alone would be enough for me to recommend Warpman, but thankfully there's more to it than its bizarre sources of inspiration. Specifically, by offering up two different play styles, it keeps things feeling fresh despite its overall repetitiveness. Also, there's little denying Warpman's character sprites are almost overwhelmingly adorable. For more of my thoughts on this Famicom cart, check out my review.

Have you played any of these overlooked Famicom games? If so, share your opinions of them in the comments section below.

Also leave a comment if you think of any other often-ignored games that were made for Nintendo's first console.

Manual Stimulation (Pac-Land, PC Engine)

I've said it before--or at least I've suggested it before, such as in this recent post--but it's worth repeating: Pac-Land doesn't get enough love.

That's not to say there aren't reasons for that lack of affection and attention. After all, the 1990 TurboGrafx-16 port of this Namco-made Pac-Man platformer, originally released in the arcades five years earlier, was roundly ignored on this side of the pond.

The TG-16's dearth of sales had a lot to do with that, of course, as did the game's age by that time. Also, Pac-Land in any form could be described as antiquated, difficult and repetitive.

Still, I think it has just enough positive attributes to be worth checking out if you're a fan of the genre. The main ones: its graphics, which look like something pulled from a Saturday morning cartoon, and its infectious soundtrack.



It also has a pretty great instruction manual, as you'll see if you continue scrolling through this write-up. Granted, that's not going to help you enjoy playing the PC Engine version of Pac-Land, but it should help you feel better about owning a copy (if you happen to buy one, that is).



The highlight of Pac-Land's booklet, in my humble opinion: its abundance of color. Although I've liked a lot of black-and-white PC Engine manuals over the years--the ones made for Don Doko Don, Mizubaku Daibouken and The New Zealand Story are good examples--I usually prefer a bit of color.



Well, there isn't a single black-and-white spread in this particular manual. Hell, there's only a couple of black-and-white illustrations--both of which can be found in the scan below.



Every other page of the Pac-Land instruction booklet features illustrations awash in color. Some of them aren't of the highest quality, mind you, but as my mom's always told me, nothing's perfect.



Thankfully, most of the art that's on offer here is nice enough that no one should regret spending $10 to $20 to obtain it (along with the game's HuCard and outer case, naturally).



Now that I've wasted a number of sentences discussing and dissecting the quality of the art that appears in the Pac-Land manual, let's change course a bit and chat about the theme that surrounds that art. Specifically, I'm talking about the game's odd "alpine aesthetic," for lack of a better phrase.



Don't see it? Look at every single depiction of Pac-Man in the scans shared in this post. The old pellet-chomper sports some sort of mountaineering hat in all of them. He also spends a surprising amount of time leaping from log to log and traipsing through forests and fields in this side-scrolling adventure.



That's just a side note to the rainbow-swathed drawings and screenshots scattered throughout this booklet, though.

And although I can't say I like them more than the ones included in another Namco PC Engine instruction manual, for Valkyrie no Densetsu, they're better than what you'll find in less thrilling manuals--Parasol Star's is an unfortunate example--so you won't hear me complaining anytime soon.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts

Manual Stimulation (Valkyrie no Densetsu, PC Engine)

Truth be told, I've never had the highest opinion of Namco's PC Engine releases. Or maybe I should say I've only recently gained an appreciation for them.

What gave me pause in the past? My main issue with the company's PC Engine output was that most of it was made up of watered-down arcade conversions. Although that kind of thing doesn't bother me now--in fact, in many cases I appreciate the differences between the quarter-munchers and their console counterparts--it definitely irritated me when I was younger.



Thankfully, I've since gotten over such closed-mindedness--to the point that I'm now a pretty big fan of the games Namco produced for NEC's Famicom competitor.

Valkyrie no Densetsu is a good example of how things have improved between me and the folks who developed Namco's PC Engine offerings. Until a few months ago, I turned my nose up at this 1990 release. It's not exactly a looker, as the saying goes, and when it comes to old games like this one, that often means the difference between it being played or ignored.



The good news regarding Valkyrie no Densetsu is that it looks a good bit better once it's in motion. It's also surprisingly fun--in an overly linear, original Legend of Zelda kind of way.

Even if that weren't true, though, I'd probably want to own a copy of this colorful HuCard. If you need a reason why, just look at the scans shared throughout this post.





The pair of spreads above really show off how far Namco's artists and designers were willing to go to create quality instruction manuals back in the day.

I especially like the image of the eponymous Valkyrie taking on one of the game's caveman-like baddies that covers the pages that immediate precede this chunk of text but, really, all of the art included on this manual's many piece of papers is awesome if you ask me.





Even pages that otherwise might be considered boring are better than your run-of-the-mill how-to booklet, thanks to the use of color and callouts and whatnot.



Not that you could call much of the Valkyrie no Densetsu instruction manual "boring." Consider the following spread--which reminds me of the similar products Nintendo created for titles like The Legend of Zelda and Kid Icarus.



Somewhat-related aside: I've always been a softie for illustrations of common game items like bottles and keys and weapons and armor.



Finally, we have a map of the areas players have to traverse if they want to conquer the PC Engine version of Valkyrie no Densetsu.



Or at least that's what I think the pages above are supposed to depict. I can't say for sure because I've never made it past the HuCard's first few stages.

How about you? Are you a hardcore Valkyrie no Densetsu fan who has seen its end credits many times over, or is this the first you're hearing of this not-quite-classic (outside of Japan, at least)? Regardless, please share your thoughts on this title's manual if you have the time and interest.

See also: 'Nice Package! (Valkyrie no Densetsu, PC Engine),' 'Second Chances: Valkyrie no Densetsu (PC Engine)' and previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts

Anyone up for a few more photos of Pac-Land's PC Engine case, HuCard and manual?

When I went to add the Pac-Land packaging snapshots showcased in my last post to Flickr yesterday, I noticed a bunch of unused ones sitting in my photos folder that I'd previously ignored.

So, I whipped them into shape shortly thereafter and then decided to give them a post of their very own.



Granted, the photos seen above and below probably aren't going to blow anyone away. Still, they should whet appetites until I publish my upcoming "Manual Stimulation" post about Namco's Pac-Land PC Engine port.

Speaking of Pac-Land's instructional booklet, it's pretty darn colorful, isn't it? The illustrations that contain all of that color could be a tad cleaner, I guess, but they make me smile even in their slightly rough state.

I'd never call the art included in the following spread at all "rough," by the way. Rather, it's pretty much perfect as far as these things go.



If you'd like to see a few more such spreads, check out this old "Manual Stimulation" write-up, which highlights the booklet made for another Namco-published PC Engine title, the otherwise humdrum shmup known as Barunba.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' and 'Manual Stimulation' posts

Nice Package! (Pac-Land, PC Engine)

I've mentioned before (in this not-so-old post, for example) that I have a strange attraction to Pac-Land.

The gist: I became aware of it at a time in my life when both Namco's Pac-Man and Nintendo's Super Mario Bros.--and a bunch of other classics--were front and center in my mind. As a result, an arcade game that combined both of those titles into one blew my teenage mind.

Did this quarter-muncher's graphics and gameplay really deserve such a response? Not really. Pac-Land was more than a bit questionable even back then, especially in the looks and controls departments.



Still, it could be fun to play, and it had a stellar soundtrack, so I plopped money into it whenever I was able--which wasn't very often, as the only cabinet I knew of at the time was located in a mall arcade a couple of hours from my hometown.

Given all of the above, you'd think I would've picked up a copy of the TurboGrafx-16 port of Pac-Land shortly after I bought that system. Instead, I ignored it for games like The Addams Family, Fighting Street and Valis II and III. (Don't worry, I also owned a ton of great TG-16 titles.)

I recently made up for that by buying the Japanese PC Engine version of the game. It was well worth the handful of dollars I spent on it. How so? Just look at the photos showcased throughout this post. They tell you everything you need to know, don't you think?

Thankfully, the game that's packed into the Pac-Land HuCard is, as I said earlier, a good bit of fun. Hey, it may not be on par with any of the 8-bit Super Mario Bros. titles, but it's miles better than the woeful Keith Courage.

Plus, this port allows players to use their console's d-pad to control Pac-Man, which is a change from the arcade original. (In the latter, you used a pair of buttons to move the iconic character left and right, while you nudged a joystick to make him jump.)



Anyway, as is the case with pretty much all of Namco's--or Namcot's--PC Engine releases, this one comes with a really eye-pleasing instruction manual (see above for a glimpse of one of its pages).

Speaking of which, look for one of my "Manual Stimulation" posts that'll detail both the exterior and interior of this game's how-to booklet in the next week or two.

In the meantime, are any of you Pac-Land fans? If so, share your thoughts and memories in the comments section that follows.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Second Chances: Valkyrie no Densetsu (PC Engine)

You'd think I would've learned long ago not to judge a PC Engine game by static screenshots.

After all, though I originally turned up my nose at titles like Gokuraku! Chuka Taisen, Mr. Heli no Daibōken and Obocchama Kun due to what I considered to be their far-from-catwalk-ready looks, I changed my tune on each of those HuCards (as well as a number of others) after sinking a bit of time into them.

The thing is, I didn't much like Valkyrie no Densetsu--Legend of Valkyrie in English--even after a few go-rounds with it. I guess I didn't find its gameplay all that appealing during those initial forays. Or maybe I just couldn't get past its rough-hewn graphics.

Granted, calling Valkyrie no Densetsu's graphics rough-hewn seems downright generous at first glance. Its enemy sprites in particular are nightmare fodder thanks to their surprisingly crude designs that stand in stark contrast to those of the game's adorable protagonist and most of its backdrops.

I say "most" here because, well, some aspects of this Namcot-made title's environmental graphics also aren't what I'd call pretty. A case in point: a lot of the trees you saunter by during the adventure at hand look as though they could've been tended to for a few more hours (if not days) before earning the company's seal of approval.

All that said, if you're anything like me, a surprising number of the components singled out for complaint so far will grow on you--at least a bit--over time.

Seriously, at the moment, when one or more of the game's imp or ogre baddies skitters into view, I now look at them with more than a smidge of admiration rather than the tight-lipped frown of disgust that used to greet their appearance.

Is that because Valkyrie no Densetsu's a blast to play? Honestly, I don't know. I mean, the game is pretty fun--it basically feels like an antiquated precursor to The Legend of Zelda, even though it was released three years later--but I'm not sure I'd say it's such a blast it would cause me to forget about eye-searing graphics.

No, I think the only acceptable explanation here is that I've somehow come around to Valkyrie no Densetsu's awkward aesthetics.

Which is a very good thing, as Martha Stewart might say (if she enjoyed video games). There's a lot to like in this 1990 release. Although its adventure is stubbornly straightforward--no real exploring or even backtracking is allowed, although forks in the road pop up now and then that let you switch paths--the scenery changes frequently enough that you're unlikely to become bored.

Also, new enemies, obstacles and situations--like rescuing a captive child, or stumbling upon a hidden shop--are introduced at a fairly nice clip, and that helps liven up the proceedings as well.

Valkyrie no Densetsu's controls deserve a positive nod, too. Some may describe Miss Valkyrie as a tad sluggish, especially when she has to make a leap, but I disagree. Or I'd disagree if those same folks implied her somewhat languorous movement holds back the game in any meaningful way.

In fact, the single knock I can aim at this surprisingly adept arcade port is that the boss monsters you encounter every once in a while aren't the most interesting of adversaries. That's basically the only complaint I have at the moment, though, which I guess goes to show how much it can help to give games that don't click with you at first a second chance.

Have any of you played Valkyrie no Densetsu? If so, let me and others know what you think of it in the comments section that follows.

Note: photos via thebrothersduomazov.com and videogameden.com

Nice Package! (Mappy, Game Gear)

I don't know if you're aware, but I'll play pretty much any version of Namcot's--or, you know, Namco's--Mappy that comes my way.

If given a choice, though, I usually go with the 1991 Game Gear port that serves as the focus of this write-up.

Why? Well, it's portable, for starters--and these days, especially, I prefer on-the-go gaming experiences to those that require me to spend time in our basement. (That's where my consoles and our TV are situated.)

I also simply like how the wizards at Namcot/Namco were able to shrink this 1983 arcade classic so it could be played on Sega's GameBoy competitor. 

And then there's the extra mode that, as far as I'm aware, only can be found in this particular version of Mappy. If you want to know more about it, read through the handful of comments shared at the end of this old post.

The gist, though, is that it features stages that are quite a bit more sprawling than those found in the original quarter-muncher. They also look kind of grimy compared to the ones most Mappy fans are used to seeing.

As exciting as Game Gear-specific offering may seem, I almost always ignore it in favor of the traditional arcade mode.



Anyway, enough about that. How about this iteration's packaging? I especially love the illustration that appears on the front of its box and cartridge, of course.

Its instruction manual includes a bunch of great illustrations, too--as should be evident while taking in the pair of snapshots above.

Don't worry, I'll publish scans of the entire booklet as part of my "Manual Stimulation" series in the coming weeks.

In the meantime, feel free to share your thoughts on this or any other version of Mappy in the comments section that follows.

See also: my 'Great Gaymathon' review of Mappy's Famicom port

Manual Stimulation (The Tower of Druaga, Famicom)

Before I say anything else here, I need to point out that you have to click on the scans below if you want to take a closer look at them.

Maybe you've been doing that all along, and this is old news, but I thought I'd mention it now, just in case. Because I can only imagine how big of a bummer it must be for some of you to come to these posts only to then feel disappointed by how small the manual scans initially appear.



(Make sure you also click on other images and photos that appear on this blog, by the way. A good example: the scans of the front and back of City Connection's Famicom box that opened and closed my recent "Great Gaymathon" review of that Jaleco-made game.)

With that out of the way, let's get to the focus of this write-up: the instruction manual produced for the Famicom port of Namco's (or in this case, Namcot's) The Tower of Druaga.



If this is the first you've heard of this 1985 release, it's basically an action RPG set in a maze-filled tower. Or I guess you could call it an old-school tower-crawler (as opposed to a dungeon-crawler) with some randomly generated elements.

Sadly, both of those descriptions make The Tower of Druaga sound a lot more interesting than it really is.



In reality, the game's awfully repetitive -- both from an aesthetics and gameplay standpoint. Every one of the 60 floors of the titular tower look pretty much the same. The enemies that stalk those stages change now and then, which is nice, but I'm not sure I'd say that'll be enough to keep your eyes from glazing over at some point.

Also, the same jangly tune plays throughout this often-laborious adventure. Which would be fine if the tune in question were as much of a bop as, say, Bubble Bobble's theme, but it's not.



Still, I'm glad I own a copy of this iteration of The Tower of Druaga. As is the case with pretty much all of Namco's earliest Famicom games, its box is a sight to behold. (I especially like the back of these old boxes, by the way. There's something special about the way they juxtapose a large, full-cover screenshot with just enough explanatory text to pique your interest.)

Its cart label is similarly snazzy, by the way, and as you've learned via this blog post, its instruction manual has plenty going for it as well.



My favorite part of The Tower of Druaga's manual, it has to be said, is its last couple of pages. So much entertainment can be gleaned from its handful of hastily crafted (or so it seems) illustrations.



The best of the bunch, of course, is the dragon that can be seen in the top-middle square on page seven (two scans above), although most of the others are worth ogling, too.

What do you think of this particular piece of gaming paraphernalia? Do any portions of it speak to you, or at least mildly interest or amuse you? If so, share your thoughts in the comments section below.

See also: 'Manual Stimulation' posts about City Connection, Door Door and Yume Penguin Monogatari

Shall We Do It? (Dragon Buster II)

On a whim, I decided to play the ancient Famicom game known as Dragon Buster II for the very first time over the weekend.

What prompted me to boot up this Namcot-made title? I'm not entirely sure, although I have a feeling I read Video Game Den's rather glowing review of it at some point in the recent past (I'm always scanning that site for morsels of retro-gaming goodness), and that's what pushed me to give it a go on Sunday.

If this is the first you've heard of Dragon Buster II, at its heart it's a dungeon-crawler. Unlike today's Etrian Odyssey titles or even yesterday's Wizardry releases, however, this one is presented in top-down fashion à la The Legend of Zelda or even StarTropics.

That's not to suggest Dragon Buster II looks or even plays like either of those last two 8-bit classics. Instead, it calls to mind old-school roguelikes--though I'm not sure any of the elements included in Namcot's creation are randomized. (Dungeon layouts certainly don't seem to be, although enemy placement as well as treasure chest and exit door locations may be.)

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, Dragon Buster II is similar to another of the company's long-ignored IPs: The Tower of Druaga. The former is a lot more engaging than the latter, though, so if you're like me and the very thought of Druaga makes you yawn, don't be afraid to give Dragon Buster II a try at some point down the line.

One of my favorite aspects of this cart-based adventure, by the way, is that its protagonist primarily uses a bow and arrow to send baddies to the great beyond. Even better, the arrows he shoots do more than just plunk off of the dungeon walls that surround him throughout his multi-faceted quest; rather, they ricochet off of them in a manner that is equal parts satisfying and thrilling.

Two other interesting components of this 1986 release: fog blankets (in more of a figurative than literal sense) each dungeon upon entry, and you clear the surrounding area with every step you take. Also, found within the boundaries of these underground chambers are a number of unique-to-the-genre foes like dinosaurs and beings that resemble the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

I've encountered a few niggles so far, too, I have to admit. The most noteworthy one is that there isn't much variety to Dragon Buster II's environments, as far as I can tell. After you've traipsed through the brick-walled dungeon as well as the mossy and icy ones, you've seemingly seen them all. Granted, it's possible I've yet to encounter a couple of locales, but I doubt the ones I've missed are worlds beyond the current offerings in terms of their aesthetics.

Another complaint can be leveled at Dragon Buster II's confounding lack of a soundtrack. For about 95 percent of the game, all you hear are your own footsteps and the sound of your arrows pinging off nearby walls. It's only when you approach one of the titular beasts that any actual music comes into play. I guess the title's developers may have done this on purpose, to add a bit more suspense to its dragon battles, but I can't say I think the trade-off was worth it.

Oh, well, I've enjoyed the time I've spent with this Famicom cart so far--even with its overly quiet and repetitively tiled dungeons.

Have any of you played Dragon Buster II? If so, what do you think about its looks, sounds and gameplay?

See also: previous 'Shall We Do It' posts

Re-introducing: Namco Gallery (GameBoy)

On my birthday last year, I bought myself the trio of games that can be seen in the photos throughout this post.

Even though they arrived on my doorstep shortly after, I failed to photograph them--or, you know, otherwise acknowledge their existence--until earlier this week.



Anyway, the boxes look pretty nice lined up as they are in the shot above, don't you think?

Something you probably can't make out by looking at said photo (unless you click on it to blow it up): the frames featured on each volume's box art include elements that tie in to one or more of the four games contained on that particular cart.



The frame featured on Namco Gallery Vol. 1's packaging, for instance, includes depictions of Mappy's titular police mouse (above) as well as Nyamco (below), the game's antagonist.

(The frames featured on the covers of the second and third volumes include similarly delicious depictions of Dig Dug, Sky Kid and The Tower of Druaga characters.)



The backsides of the Namco Gallery boxes aren't as thrilling as the front sides, unfortunately, but they do give folks a nice look at the colorized versions of each compilation's games.

Just in case you've forgotten which games are included on which Namco Gallery volume, the first one contains pint-sized versions of Battle City, Galaga, Mappy and Namco Classic (a golf sim); the second offers up portable iterations of Dig Dug, Famista 4 (baseball), Galaxian and The Tower of Druaga; and the third consists of Family Tennis, Jantaku Boy (mahjong), Sky Kid and Tower of Babel ports.



My favorites are the most well known titles of the bunch: Dig Dug, Galaga, Mappy and Sky Kid, with the first game's puzzlerific (no, that's not a real word) "New Dig Dug" mode alone being worth the price of all three cartridges, in my humble opinion.

This portable re-imagining of Dig Dug is the only one of the above-mentioned ports to earn a North American release, by the way. I've wanted to own a complete-in-box copy of it for ages now due to its striking box art, but price-gouging eBay sellers have kept me from realizing those desires.

See also: a previous post with a bit more information on the Namco Gallery games