Manual Stimulation: Alien Syndrome (Game Gear)

I don't know if I've made this clear here, on Twitter, on Facebook, or elsewhere on the internet, but I adore Alien and Aliens. 

I'm specifically talking about the classic horror and sci-fi films, of course; not the, uh, beings from outer space in general.

I mention that because it should go a long way toward explaining my attraction not only to the 1986 arcade version of this game, but the boiled-down Game Gear port from 1992 I'm highlighting in this post.

After all, there's little denying Alien Syndrome was heavily inspired by James Cameron's classic 1986 sci-fi action film, Aliens.

This isn't to imply Alien Syndrome offers nothing new or unique. The enemies and especially bosses it throws at players are a world away from the ones found in the aforementioned flick.

To be honest, the low-level aliens you fend off in this Gauntlet-esque, run-and-gun shooter tend toward the lackluster. Thankfully, the end-of-stage guardians more than make up for it.

This version of Alien Syndrome isn't a straight port of the quarter-munching original, by the way. According to the intro, the Game Gear version a follow-up set five years in the future.

I can't say that's immediately noticeable while playing the portable iteration, but it's a nice bullet point all the same. 

Something else that's worth noting about this release is its brevity. The game offers up just four stages. Successfully finishing them is no easy feat, though, so at least there's that. Still, few are going to describe Alien Syndrome for the Game Gear as a meaty experience.

Most who play it are likely to call it a tense and thrilling experience, though. It absolutely nails that aspect of the source material. As such, playing through it again and again—or at least more than once—is joyful rather than annoying.

Have any of you played the Game Gear port of Sega's Alien Syndrome? If so, what did you think of it?

See also: the Bubble Bobble Game Gear instruction manual

I'm not sure if this should be a congratulatory post or an RIP post--regardless, happy 63rd anniversary, Taito!

I haven't always been the Taito fan I am today. Oh, sure, I liked Arkanoid and Space Invaders well enough when I was a kid, and of course I loved (and continue to love) Bubble Bobble, too, but that's about where my knowledge of and interest in this Tokyo-based company began and ended until a few years ago.

What changed and when? To be completely honest, I'm not sure. The best answer I can come up with at the moment is that my perception and appreciation of Taito--which first opened its doors on Aug. 24, 1953--changed slowly over time.



If I were to guess, I'd say this evolution (of sorts) began when my adoration of the game-maker's Bubble Bobble pushed me to give follow-ups Rainbow Islands and Parasol Stars a second (or even third) look. Neither platformer impressed me when I first played them earlier in life, but revisiting them with fresh eyes and a clear mind prompted a nearly instantaneous change of heart.

The same could be said of Taito titles like Don Doko Don, KiKi KaiKai, Mizubaku Daibouken (aka Liquid Kids) and The New Zealand Story. As much as I wanted all of these games to bowl me over during my initial experiences with them, none succeeded for one reason or another.

Thankfully, my newfound attraction to Rainbow Islands and Parasol Stars caused me to give them a second chance--and now I'm a fan of each and every one. (Mizubaku Daibouken, especially--it's now one of my all-time favorite games.)



After that, I actively searched for similar Taito releases I skipped over during the time in my life when I was idiotically unaware of the company's brilliance. That bit of legwork turned me on to titles like Chack'n Pop, Chuka Taisen, Hana Taaka Daka!?, Insector X, Jigoku Meguri, JuJu Densetsu and The Fairyland Story.

I also loosened up and gave some of the portable versions of these games a spin. Previously, I turned up my nose at most of them because they either lacked color--the idea of playing Bubble Bobble on the original GameBoy horrified me at the time--or they just seemed too watered down to be worth my while.

Imagine my shock, then, when I found many of Taito's on-the-go ports to be surprisingly well made, not to mention enjoyable. A few cases in point: Bubble Bobble for Game Gear, Bubble Bobble Junior for GameBoy and Puzzle Bobble for Game Gear.

What makes all of these Taito-made games so great? Their graphics and soundtracks are the obvious replies, but they're really only the tip of the iceberg. They draw you in, but if the gameplay that supports those superficial aspects was anything but stellar, most people would walk away after plodding through a few stages.

That's the component that keeps me coming back to Taito's best creations, at least. Every single title mentioned so far controls like a dream. And not only that, but most of them simply are a blast to play. To get a feel for what I mean, go play a couple of rounds of Bubble Bobble, Rainbow Islands, Parasol Stars or Mizubaku Daibouken.

Despite the challenge that's at the core of each of these games, the component that's likely to stand out for most folks is how fun it is to blow and pop bubbles (Bubble Bobble), conjure up and leap onto rainbows (Rainbow Islands) and send a torrent of water crashing into a mob of stunned enemies (both Parasol Stars and Mizubaku Daibouken).



That's the kind of magic Taito's designers and developers produced during the company's heyday, and that's why I'm doing my best to (belatedly) honor them today. I'd highly recommend you do the same if you've got the interest, means and time, as there's no doubt in my mind that your life will be made richer for putting even a few minutes into some of the games discussed here.

Note: a hearty thank you goes out to my Twitter pal, TepidSnake, for making me aware of the 63rd anniversary of Taito's existence

Manual Stimulation (SonSon, Famicom)

As much as I've always enjoyed playing the Famicom port of Capcom's SonSon, I've never felt compelled to actually own it.

Until recently, of course. Even then, I only bought the complete-in-box copy that provided me with the manual seen here because I came across a fairly cheap one during a regular sweep of eBay.



Now that it's finally in my possession, I've got to say I would've gladly paid twice that auction's ending price thanks to this gorgeous instruction booklet.





After all, aside from its first few pages (above), it's chock-full of top-notch illustrations. (Click on the scans found throughout this post if you want to take a much better, and closer, look at them.)





Hell, exactly half of the SonSon manual's how-to information is conveyed via a shockingly adroit comic strip.





Sadly, I don't understand the bulk of the text that's offered up throughout the comic strip in question, but I get the gist of it--and that's more than enough for me.





Topping off all of the above with a big, juicy cherry is the sheet music of the SonSon theme song that brings everything to a close.



What do all of you think of the focus of this installment of "Manual Stimulation"?

Also, to those of you who've played any iteration of SonSon: what did you, or do you, think of it?

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' 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! (Rainbow Islands, Famicom)

I haven't always been a fan of the Famicom version of Taito's Rainbow Islands.

For the longest time, in fact, I turned up my nose at it because few of its many components--graphics, soundtrack, gameplay--hold a candle to those found in the arcade original.

The one aspect of this 1988 Rainbow Islands port, if you can call it that, I've loved since I first came across it is its Japanese box art. (See this "Which Box Art is Better?" post from 2011 for proof.)



It should be pretty easy to understand why that is once you take in the photo above. Not only is it brilliantly colorful, but everything but the striped backdrop appears to be made out of clay.



Other parts of Rainbow Islands' Famicom packaging it are well worth ogling, too. Hell, even the sides of its cardboard box is quite a looker, if you ask me. (What can I say? I'm a sucker Japanese words spelled out in attractively crafted bubble letters.)



This game's instruction manual is similarly striking. Well, not so much its cover--although I do appreciate how the pink texts pops against all of the white and gray and black beneath it--but definitely its interior.

The Great Gaymathon Review #73: City Connection (Famicom)

Game: City Connection

Genre: Platformer

Developer: Axes Art Amuse

Publisher: Jaleco Entertainment

System: Famicom

Release date: 1985

The 1980s were great for folks who enjoyed playing video games with completely off-the-wall settings and premises.

There was a game that starred two brothers who, upon being turned into bubble-blowing dragons, set off to rescue their kidnapped girlfriends from a skeletal whale. Another noteworthy offering was a text adventure featuring nothing but anthropomorphic fruits and vegetables--with the protagonist being a cucumber knight.

Hell, the cartridge that helped make video games a household name around the world--its main character being a mustachioed plumber who spends his free time eating spotted mushrooms and tossing fireballs at meandering chestnut-shaped baddies with Brooke Shields-esque eyebrows--made its debut during this decade.

In that context, a pithy platformer that puts players into the driver's seat of an unstoppable hot rod and tasks them with painting the streets of various tourist destinations (London, New York City and Paris among them) seems positively pedestrian.

That's not to say Jaleco's City Connection, which began life as a quarter-muncher before being ported to the MSX and Famicom, is a bore. In fact, I'd say it's the polar opposite of that.

Admittedly, it isn't the deepest of gaming experiences. All you have to do while playing it is press left or right on your controller's d-pad to change the direction of your car--like I said earlier, it moves on its own--and hit the A button to make your auto jump. (Oh, and you can collect oil cans while racing about and then shoot them at obstacles by tapping your controller's B button.)

OK, so there's a bit more to City Connection than that. While you're busy aiming your car and timing its jumps, you also have to keep an eye on the road before you. This is because sharing the pavement with you are police cars, spikes and cats. Run into any of them and you lose one of the small handful of lives given to you at the game's onset.

If all of that sounds kind of ridiculous, well, it is. It's also surprisingly enjoyable--and even rather addictive. Basically, City Connection is one of those old games that's easy to stick into your Famicom, play for a few minutes, bop your head to the brilliant backing tunes and then return to the rest of your day.

Which I guess may sound disappointing to folks searching for another title to add to their "games are art" discussions. Plenty of titles, old and new, fit that description, though, so my suggestion is to forget about that for the time being and accept City Connection for the simplistic fun it ably provides.

See also: previous 'Great Gaymathon' reviews plus 'Manual Stimulation (City Connection)' and 'Nice Package! (City Connection)'

Nice Package! (KiKi KaiKai, PC Engine)

Those of you who use Twitter and who follow me may have caught this tweet I sent out a few days ago: "After a bit of a dry spell, I recently bought a ton of Famicom, PC Engine and PlayStation games."

The focus of today's post, Taito's KiKi KaiKai, is one of those games.



To be honest, I've been on the fence about picking up a copy of this title for a while now. Although it's a top-shelf port of the arcade game of the same name--also made by Taito and released in 1986--the simple truth is I absolutely suck at it.

Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. I buy plenty of games that seemingly enjoy pointing out to me that my reflexes aren't as sharp as they were when I was a kid.

The problem with this game, though, was that copies of KiKi KaiKai's PC Engine port tend to be pricey.

As a result, I've hemmed and hawed for a good year or so as to whether I should bite the bullet and buy the damn thing despite my issues or use my hard-earned cash on a couple of other PC Engine classics--ones that would have a less negative impact on my ego--instead.

Obviously I decided to go with the former in the end. And I can't say I regret that decision one bit. After all, just look at this title's beautiful packaging. From the cover of its instruction manual to the labels on the back of its case, it's pretty much perfect, wouldn't you agree?

I especially like the interior of KiKi KaiKai's instruction manual. The illustrations it offers up are the definition of lovely, in my humble opinion.

Of course, that shouldn't surprise me. Pretty much every Taito manual I've come across over the years makes me swoon. Two noteworthy examples from the PC Engine era: Don Doko Don and Mizubaku Daibouken. (Sadly, I'm not sure I'd say Parasol Star's booklet is quite up to snuff.)

If you'd like to sneak a peek at more of KiKi KaiKai's manual, you're in luck. I'm going to publish another installment of my long-running "Manual Stimulation" series devoted to this game's pamphlet later this week.



In the meantime, have any of you played any iteration of this top-down, push-scrolling shmup?

I'm especially curious to hear opinions of the arcade original or the PC Engine port discussed here, but feel free to sound off on the curious reimagining released for the Famicom Disk System or the follow-ups that hit the Super Famicom in 1992 and 1994, respectively.

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

Manual Stimulation (City Connection, Famicom)

A week ago, I published a post about City Connection's packaging--in particular, its outer box and cartridge. (Check it out here, if you missed it the first time around.)

Although I usually include a photo or two of a game's instruction manual in my "Nice Package!" write-ups, I didn't do so in my City Connection post because, well, to be honest, I forgot to snap one.

In the end, that's OK, as you can see the entirety of this Jaleco-made title's manual right here, starting with its front and back covers:

Before you scroll any further, I have to warn you: City Connection was a fairly early Famicom release. For some context, it came out in the same year as Namco's Dig Dug port, Enix's debut title, Door Door and Nintendo's Mach Rider.

In other words, don't expect its instruction manual to be all flashy like the ones created for later releases like Yume Penguin Monogatari, Mother, or Hoshi no Kirby (aka Kirby's Adventure).



Actually, that's not completely fair, as the manual that accompanied copies of Taito's Chack'n Pop port featured some surprisingly snazzy illustrations, if you ask me.



Still, that was an exception to the rule of the time. Most Famicom games were sold with instruction manuals that were the definition of "bare bones," and City Connection is pretty par for the course in that regard.



That's to suggest City Connection's isn't worth flipping through once or twice. As you can see in the scans found above and below, it showcases some interesting pieces of pixel art.

Second Chances: Don Doko Don (Famicom)

To those of you who are a bit confused as to why I'm devoting a "Second Chances" post to a game I've previously--and frequently--praised, both here and on Twitter, here's the deal: the version of Don Doko Don that I've so often celebrated was the PC Engine conversion released in 1990.

On the other hand, the Famicom port of this Taito-made single-screen platformer--which is a lot like Bubble Bobble, but with hammer-weilding garden gnomes instead of bubble-blowing dinosaurs--has long left me feeling a little cold, and mainly because, at first glance, it's a lot less easy on the eyes (and the ears, too) than either the aforementioned PC Engine release or the arcade original.

I've warmed up to it in recent days, though, although I'm not entirely sure why. Actually, that's not completely accurate. What I mean is that I know why I've come around to it--I now rather like its aesthetic, with the possible exception of the protagonist sprites--but I'm not sure why I currently find something appealing that I used to consider fairly disappointing.

Maybe I just opened my heart to its minimalist charms, or maybe I realized that the PC Engine version isn't as grand (in terms of its appearance) as I earlier considered it to be--or maybe it's a bit of both?

One complaint I will level against this iteration of Don Doko Don: a handful of its enemy sprites are larger than, say, their PC Engine equivalents, which wouldn't bother me normally, but in this case the increase in size seems to throw off the balance on some of its stages. For example, baddies who, in other versions of the game, eventually would work their way toward the bottom of the screen tend to get stuck near the top in the Famicom port, and the resulting mass often causes the player to put him- or herself into more perilous positions than would otherwise be required.

This isn't even close to a deal-breaker, of course, but it is a minor source of aggravation--or it has proven to be one for me--and, as such, I thought I should mention it here.

Despite the above-mentioned quibble, I now consider myself to be a pretty big fan of the Famicom conversion of this great single-screen platformer--to the point that I'm planning to pick up a copy of it once I have the funds.

Here's hoping that once I get my grubby little hands on one, its instruction manual is at least as nice--and full of adorable illustrations--as its PC Engine counterpart, if not a bit nicer.

See also: previous 'Second Chances' posts

The Great Gaymathon Review #2: Rainbow Islands (PC Engine CD-ROM2)

Game: Rainbow Islands

Genre: Platformer

System: PC Engine CD-ROM2

Developer: NEC Avenue

Publisher: NEC Avenue

Release date: 1993

Most platformers follow in Super Mario Bros' hugely successful footsteps and scroll horizontally. Well, Fukio Mitsuji's arcade classic--technically the first sequel to Bubble Bobble--turns that tried-and-true tradition on its head and scrolls vertically, much like those odd overworld sections of Kid Icarus that caused you to pull out your hair by the handful. (Or was that just me?) As much as I like that mythological Famicom Disk System title, though, it has nothing on Rainbow Islands, what with the latter's titular arcs of light--which can be used as weapons or as platforms--shimmering, Wizard of Oz-esque soundtrack (i.e., the main theme sounds an awful lot like "Over the Rainbow") and almost shocking array of enemies and environments. That's not to say this Bubble Bobble follow-up is faultless. Some players are bound to hate its floaty jumps, or struggle to perfect its run-up-a-slew-of-rainbows-like-a-flight-of-stairs mechanic. Making matters worse, Rainbow Islands' can be merciless from a difficulty perspective. And the boss battles that pop up at the end of each world, while visually impressive, often feel "cheap" rather than satisfying due to the suffocating size of said baddies. Still, Rainbow Islands deserves all the kudos that can be tossed at it due to its surprising amount of depth and to how boldly, radically and successfully its gameplay veers from that of its predecessor.

See also: previous 'Great Gaymathon' posts