Nice Package! (Banishing Racer, GameBoy)

The first time I laid my eyes on Banishing Racer's box cover (don't ask me when, it's all a blur now), I thought, I need to have that!

Mind you, this was before I'd played even a single second of the game. And it was before I discovered just how much you have to pay for a copy of it these days, too.

Back then, though, neither of those things mattered. All I cared about was the brilliantly colorful illustration that's showcased in the photo below.

OK, so I also liked its name. Banishing Racer. Or Vanishing Racer, as some prefer. Not that the latter makes any more sense than the former.

Whatever. I thought it was silly. And kind of appropriate, considering the game is a bizarre side-scroller that stars an anthropomorphic car. (The cross-eyed green one that's front and center on the Banishing Racer cover, above.)

If a platformer with a four-wheeled protagonist sounds somewhat familiar, that's probably because you've played-or heard of--another Jaleco-made game, 1985's City Connection.

Although I don't believe the now-defunct developer and publisher ever specifically declared Banishing Racer to be an official or even spiritual follow-up to that arcade (as well as Famicom and NES) classic, it sure seems like it at least has to be the latter.

Regardless, this Japan-only GameBoy release is a unique and mostly entertaining offering.

I say "mostly" here because controlling the begloved bug--or whatever type of auto it's supposed to be--that serves as Banishing Racer's main character isn't always effortless, the game's difficulty wavers wildly between cakewalk easy and pull-your-hair-out tough, and it includes a measly 15 stages (a couple of which are painfully short).

But it also looks and sounds great (see and hear what I mean by checking out this Banishing Racer longplay), plus it's simply fun to play a side-scrolling action game in which you're plopped into the shoes--or, erm, wheels--of something other than a person or an animal.

For me, Banishing Racer's positive attributes outweigh its negative ones in the end, although I acknowledge that not everyone feels this way. The proprietor of one of my favorite retro-gaming blogs, VGJUNK, certainly doesn't share my love of this cart, and I've had conversations with a number of other folks who similarly turn their noses up at it.

I'll bet even they have a soft spot for Banishing Racer's box art, though; and its cartridge label and instruction manual cover, too.

Disappointingly, the Banishing Racer manual isn't as wonderful as you probably expect it to be given the game's key art. It's not terrible, but it's also not chock-full of grin-inducing illustrations. Don't take my word for it; you can decide for yourself when I feature it in an upcoming "Manual Stimulation" post.

In the meantime, what do all of you think of the Banishing Racer packaging shots showcased in this post? And what do you think of the game itself, if you've ever played it?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about Burning Paper, Noobow, Penguin-kun Wars, and Shippo de Bun

Nice Package! (Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun, GameBoy)

No one's ever going to accuse Dragon Quest publisher, Enix, of jumping on the GameBoy bandwagon.

After all, it took the company over three years to release its first GameBoy title--and even then it was a game, Dungeon Land, someone else developed.

It took another year-plus for the game highlighted in this post to see the light of day. Admittedly, Enix didn't make it either. (Bizarre factoid: Enix only ever published the two titles named here for the original GameBoy.)

So, who is responsible for the development of this appealingly unique puzzler? That would be Daft.

Don't feel bad if this is the first you're hearing of Daft. I was completely in the dark about the company before I started researching this write-up. (I always assumed Enix both developed and published this version of Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun.)



If you're any kind of "retro gamer," though, you've probably at least heard of one of Daft's other products, though--that being the quirky Super Famicom platformer, Hameln no Violin Hiki (aka Violinist of Hameln).

As for Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun, it's based on Ami Shibata's 1991 manga series of the same name. To be frank, I know nothing about said series and, as such, have no idea as to why the powers that be at Daft or Enix decided to translate the IP into a puzzle game for Nintendo's first portable game system.

What I do know: Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun is a fun little brain-teaser.

This is no Tetris or Puyo Puyo clone, however. In fact, I can't think of another puzzle game that plays anything like Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun.

Explaining how it works through words isn't an easy task, so check out this gameplay footage--or this footage--if you're curious to know more.

The good news: it only takes a few minutes of puttering around to figure out what you're supposed to do. After that, it's smooth sailing.

Another piece of good news: even people who don't know a lick of Japanese should find Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun both accessible and enjoyable.

With all of that out of the way, what do you think about the game's outer box, cartridge, and instruction manual, all of which are showcased throughout this post?

I especially like its colorful cover art. In fact, that's what initially drew me to the game--well, that and the Enix logo printed along its lower edge.

Have any of you played Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun? If so, what do you think of it? Even if you haven't played it, though, what do you think of the game's packaging?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about Bubble Ghost, Burning Paper, Noobow, Peetan, Penguin-kun Wars Vs., and Shippo de Bun

Shippo de Bun's stunning packaging puts a new spin on the old phrase 'nice piece of tail'

I know this post should be included in my long-running "Year of the GameBoy" series, but I've got to cut the cord on it at some point (I launched it back in early 2014), so I figured now was as good a time as any.

Plus, any write-up about this Japanese title deserves a unique headline, if you ask me. Shippo de Bun is one of the best GameBoy releases around, after all.

Not that I knew this myself until a few years ago, mind you. Back in the summer of 1991, when this game first hit store shelves in North America and Europe--as Tail 'Gator--it completely avoided my radar. It wasn't until I came across its brilliant Japanese box art, showcased in the photo above, that it made any kind of impression on me.

Shortly after I figured out its name, I plopped it into the search bars on auction sites like eBay and Yahoo! Auctions Japan--and nearly fainted.

Anyone who collects GameBoy carts won't be surprised by that news, I'm sure. Why? Because copies of both Tail 'Gator and Shippo de Bun--complete-in-box ones, in particular--often cost a pretty penny these days.

Still, I was determined to own a Japanese copy of the game, so I kept my eye out for a reasonably priced one--and snapped one up earlier this year.

Am I glad I did, now that I've had a few months to ponder my wallet-withering decision? You bet. Like I said in my first attempt at this post's header, I think Shippo de Bun's packaging alone is worth the price of admission.

Couple that with the fact that Shippo de Bun--or Tail 'Gator, whichever you prefer--is an absolute blast to play, and I'd say the game is a must-own for anyone who owns and still plays a GameBoy (or GameBoy Color or GameBoy Advance) and has the needed funds.



If that doesn't quite describe you, I'd still recommending finding a way to experience some version of this game. It plays similarly to old-school single-screen platformers like Don Doko Don and Parasol Stars, but with a number of twists.

For starters, stages in Shippo de Bun take up more than a single screen. They only scroll sideways, though, not up and down, and most seem to cover about three screens.

Also, you don't capture or trap enemies in this Natsume-made game and then use them as weapons against their surviving co-conspirators, as is the case in most examples of the genre. Here, you whack baddies with your tail until they croak. You use the same appendage to crack open safes, which litter each level and provide vital power-ups.

Finally, your goal while playing Shippo de Bun isn't to clear each screen of enemies, but to find--in a safe, unsurprisingly--the key that opens a door that sits on opposite your entrance point.

It's all a lot more enjoyable than it probably sounds. Bolstering Shippo de Bun's appeal: it looks great and sounds even better. Seriously, the soundtrack that accompanies the alligator protagonist's trials and travails is among the best ever produced for a GameBoy cartridge. It's bouncy and jazzy and even a bit rock-y.

My only complaint about Shippo de Bun's packaging: its designers reused the same art for its outer box, manual cover, and cart label.

Oh, well, at least a few original illustrations can be found on the inside pages of its instruction booklet. Don't worry, you'll be able to give them a good, long look in a future installment of my "Manual Stimulation" series.

In the meantime, what do those of you who've played either Tail 'Gator or Shippo de Bun think of the game? And what do you think of the Japanese version's packaging?

See also: previous blog posts about the packaging produced for Burning Paper, Noobow, Peetan, Snow Bros. Jr., and Tumblepop

Nice Package! (Onyanko Town, Famicom)

I've written about this Japan-only Famicom game a few times before. I first mentioned Onyanko Town last fall in this "Shall We Do It?" write-up after my maiden experience with it. Early this year, I brought it up again in a post about my five favorite Pac-Man clones.

So, why am I covering it once more? Because neither of the aforementioned posts included photos of Onyanko Town's adorable packaging.

By far the most appealing component of this game's packaging is its outer box--or at least that's my opinion on the subject.



I mean, you'd need a heart of stone to dislike the Onyanko Town logo, which is lovingly crafted out of yellow-orange bubble letters. The same is true of the so-cute-it-could-make-you-barf cover illustration that sits beneath that logo.

The characters showcased on the front and back sides of this Famicom game's box are the only ones you encounter while playing it, by the way.



The larger cat on the far right of its cover art, the one grasping a fish, is who you control once the game begins. As for the kitten she's holding with her other paw, that's her baby, Michael. He runs away (or something of the sort) at the start of every level, and then you, as Mirukii, chase after him and drag him back home.

The "nasty dog" depicted in the upper-right corner of the manual page below (see the whole Onyanko Town instruction booklet here) basically serves as this title's version of the ghosts that populate Pac-Man's pellet-riddled screens. A number of them stalk this copycat's levels. Should they catch you or your son, it's game over.



The fishmonger seen in the lower-right corner of the sample manual page above, as well as on the far left of the cart label below, also gives chase if you dare to steal one of his future fillets.

Thankfully, you can get these brutes off your tail by flipping the lids of the manholes that cover Onyanko Town's busy streets and sending them tumbling into their putrid depths.



This evasive action only offers a temporary reprieve, however, so keep that in mind if you ever decide to play Onyanko Town yourself.

With all that out of the way, this 1985 release's packaging is surprisingly nice, wouldn't you agree? Its key art is recycled a bit more than I'd like, I've got to admit, but other than that I personally think it's pretty sweet.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about the Famicom Disk Writer version of Bubble Bubble, Final Fantasy and Rainbow Islands

Nice Package! (Puzzle Bobble, WonderSwan)

I've got to be honest here: I was more than a bit apprehensive about buying a black-and-white port of Taito's Puzzle Bobble.

The fact is, I'm generally not all that interested in black-and-white ports of games that usually are drenched in color. You know, like, the platformer--Bubble Bobble--that spawned this puzzler. Or Puyo Puyo. Hell, even Pac-Man, Bomberman and Adventures of Lolo come to mind.

Still, I've had some good times with the pair of Bubble Bobble titles that were published for the GameBoy in 1990 and 1993. Also, I'm surprisingly fond of Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party, as I explained in my most recent "Welcome to WonderSwan World" write-up.

So, when I came across a rather cheap complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan a couple of months ago, I bit the bullet and bought it despite my initial reservations.

Am I happy I with my purchase now that I've spent some time with this seemingly gimped conversion of Taito's classic coin-op? Yes, I am.

I don't want to say too much about why that is in this post, though, because I'll cover a lot of that ground in a future installment of "Welcome to WonderSwan World."

What I'm willing to say here: Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan port both looks and sounds better than you're probably imagining (you can see and hear what I'm talking about in this YouTube longplay of the game). Also, it's surprisingly enjoyable to play.



This iteration's graphics and gameplay aren't solely responsible for why I'm glad I added this title to my growing collection of WonderSwan carts, however. Just as responsible: its packaging, of course.

The best part of owning a complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan, in my humble opinion, is its cover art. Although not as amazing as the illustration conjured up for the game's Neo Geo Pocket Color port (see it here), it's basically on par with the one plastered across the front of the Puzzle Bobble Super Famicom box.

Going back to Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan cover imagery, while looking at this post's first photo, you may notice it sports both a Taito as well as a Sunsoft logo.

That's because, unlike the original arcade release of Puzzle Bobble, which Taito developed and published, Sunsoft published this one--at the beginning of July in 1999.



Sunsoft didn't develop it, though. A company called Yoshidayama Workshop handled that task.

Don't worry if Yoshidayama Workshop doesn't ring a bell; before I started doing my research for this post, I'd never come across its name either.

Which makes sense, as according to GameFAQs, Yoshidayama Workshop only ever developed a small handful of video games. Besides this portable Puzzle Bobble, it also produced two other WonderSwan titles (Meta Communication Therapy: Nee Kiite!, released in 2000, and Wonder Classic, released in 2001) and a Japan-only GameBoy cartridge called Itsudemo! Nyan to Wonderful.

I can't speak to the quality of that trio of games, as I've never played any of them, but I can say Yoshidayama Workshop did a pretty good job down-porting Taito's Bubble Bobble-inspired puzzler to the WonderSwan hardware.

I wish I could say the same about the designers who created this title's instruction booklet. Sure, it's colorful, as a glance at the photo above should make clear, but it's also devoid of the kinds of illustrations that pop up in every other Bubble Bobble or Puzzle Bobble manual I've seen to date.

Oh, well, it's hardly the end of the world--especially when the rest of this Puzzle Bobble release's packaging is so stellar.

What do you think of the box, cartridge and manual shots shown throughout this post? Also, what do you think of this version of Puzzle Bobble? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Nice Package! (Landstalker, Mega Drive)

Sega's (or maybe I should say Climax Entertainment's) Landstalker is one of a small handful of games that really defined the 16-bit era for me.

As much as I loved the 8-bit systems--oh, boy, did I (and still do)--the color and resolution bumps showcased in games produced for their 16-bit successors blew my teenage mind.

If you aren't old enough to have lived through the transition from 8-bit to 16-bit gaming, compare the Famicom port of Konami's TwinBee to Pop'n TwinBee for the Super Famicom. Or compare, say, the battles in any of Enix's first four Dragon Quest titles to those in Tengai Makyou II: Manji Maru for the PC Engine Super CD-ROM2 system.

When Landstalker was first shown off in the gaming magazines I pored over as a youngster, I compared it to the likes of Square's Final Fantasy Adventure and Nintendo's The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. Those titles were (and continue to be) gorgeous in their own right, of course, but back when Landstalker was released, especially, its aesthetic looked light years beyond what they offered up.

To be honest, I can't say I enjoyed playing Landstalker as much as I enjoyed playing Final Fantasy Adventure or A Link to the Past (the isometric perspective in Climax's effort often makes things awkward), but that's a different story.

At any rate, I'll always have a soft spot for Landstalker. Which I guess helps explain why I recently picked up a complete-on-box copy of the Japanese Mega Drive version of the game. (And before that, I bought copies of two other great Mega Drive games: Shining Force and Shining Force II. I guess I should add Shining and the Darkness to the pile ASAP.)



Would I have picked up a copy of Landstalker even if I hated the game? Given its eye-popping packaging, probably.

Hell, the cover art alone is worth the price of admission in my humble opinion, though its cart label (above) certainly is no slouch.

The Landstalker Mega Drive manual is a looker, too, as the photos included in this post hopefully prove.

Even the back of this Japanese game's box, below, is easy on the eyes.

Speaking of which, I love that someone at developer Climax named Landstalker's isometric engine. (That would be "Diamond Shaped Dimension System," or "DDS 520," for the curious.) Sadly, I don't believe they ever used it for another Mega Drive or Genesis game.

Are any of you Landstalker fans? If so, what are your favorite aspects of this 16-bit RPG?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Nice Package! (Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, Super Famicom)

Square Enix's recent unveiling of the Seiken Densetsu Collection for Switch (due out in Japan on June 1) prompted me to think about a few games I haven't pondered in years.

Specifically, it prompted me to think about Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, which were released for the Super Famicom in 1993 and 1995, respectively. (The former came to North America later the same year it hit Japan, while other regions had to wait until 1994.)

Actually, I mostly thought about Seiken Densetsu 2, known as Secret of Mana in the West. That's because I've never played the third Seiken Densetsu game, although I was keenly aware of and interested it in the run-up to its Japanese release.

Anyway, back to Seiken Densetsu 2, I remember when it first started appearing in North American game magazines like Electronic Gaming Monthly and DieHard GameFan, which often referred to it as Final Fantasy Adventure 2.



I loved everything about it from the word go--the colorful backdrops, the surprisingly large (for the time) character and enemy sprites, the plethora of useable weapons and the real-time combat.

I'm pretty sure my brother and I obtained this game as soon as we were able, which likely meant I received it as a birthday gift or we got it for Christmas.

Regardless, we spent a lot of time playing through it together shortly after it hit store shelves in our neck of the woods.

Is there any chance I'll finish Secret of Mana--or Seiken Densetsu 2--if I pick up a copy of the Seiken Densetsu Collection for Switch? (You can pre-order it via amiami.com, by the way.) I kind of doubt it, but who knows?



Far more likely would be for me to finish the first Seiken Densetsu--renamed Final Fantasy Adventure when it was brought to North America--or even Seiken Densetsu 3.

Speaking of the original Seiken Densetsu, here's a post I wrote and published about its beautiful packaging (outer box, cartridge and manual) a while back.

Of course, this post is supposed to be about the beautiful packaging the folks at Square Enix--Squaresoft back then, actually--produced for Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, so maybe I should start talking about that.

On that note, I think the photos included throughout this write-up are pretty self-explanatory, don't you think?

One comment I'd like to add: Seiken Densetsu 2's box art (see top photo) is one of my all-time favorites.

Also, the clay models of that game's main characters, which can be seen in the snapshot of its instruction booklet, have always brought a smile to my face.

Seiken Densetsu 3's manual is pretty awesome, too--its cover, especially.

What do you think of the boxes, cartridges and manuals made for Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3? And what do you think of the games themselves, if you've played them?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about Cid to Chocobo no Fushigi na Dungeon (DS), Final Fantasy (Famicom) and Shining Force (Mega Drive)

Nice Package! (Final Fantasy, Famicom)

Final Fantasy may not have been my first console RPG--that would be the original Dragon Warrior, er, Dragon Quest--but it certainly was the first console RPG to blow me away.



Don't get me wrong, I adored (and continue to adore) Dragon Warrior. It's chiefly responsible for developing my current appreciation of both turn-based battles and grinding.

While Enix's game started me down the path of becoming an RPG fan, though, Square's counterpoint took me the rest of the way.



Why? I preferred Final Fantasy's four-member parties, for starters. I also liked that it let you choose the "occupations" of those characters. The quartet being visible during fights was another plus for me.

This may sound strange given how people feel about such things today, but back then I was pretty smitten with Final Fantasy's NES box art, too.

I now know, of course, that the game's North American cover imagery, despite its coral-colored logo, has nothing on its Japanese counterpart.

Strangely, although I've been aware of this fact for ages now, I only recently used it as an excuse to buy a copy of the latter.

That's hard to believe while perusing the photos showcased here. Yoshitaka Amano's illustration is beyond gorgeous, of course, but that's not the extent of this release's positive attributes.

Also impressive (to my eyes, at least): its icy Japanese logo. I'm pretty fond of the English logo that fills most of this box's side flaps, too, I've got to say, though I'd never choose it over the original.



As for the Final Fantasy Famicom instruction manual, it's sweet as well. Not as sweet as it could be, I have to admit, but it contains enough pages like the one above to be worth the price of ownership.

One last comment and then I'll shut up: I like how the back of this title's box displays a couple of sample screenshots. It reminds me of Epic's Flying Hero, which is one of my favorite examples of Famicom game packaging.



And, really, anything that makes me think of that under-appreciated gem deserves all the praise that can be heaped upon it.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about the City Connection and Rainbow Islands ports

Nice Package! (Guru Logi Champ, GameBoy Advance)

While researching and writing my post of #HudsonMonth game recommendations--which includes a brief mention of this unfortunately obscure puzzler--over the weekend, I came to the shocking realization that the only photo I've published of Guru Logi Champ since acquiring a copy of it in early 2010 is of its cartridge. (Here is the post in question, in case you're curious.)

That's a real shame, as not only is Guru Logi Champ one of the best GameBoy Advance titles around, but its box, cartridge and instruction manual sport some of the best cover (or label) art around.

Don't take my word for it. A single glance at the photo below is all you should need to be convinced of the greatness of this Compile-made game's packaging.



If that's not quite enough to sell you on it, check out the following:

Yes, the flaps on Guru Logi Champ's box feature depictions of the game's adorable duck-like characters.

Those same creatures are plastered across the GameBoy Advance puzzler's instruction manual, too, as you can see in the snapshot above.



Guru Logi Champ's cart label is a slight variation of the main cover art. Hey, at least there's a little difference--too many publishers of GBA games used the same designs on both surfaces, in my experience.

If you'd like to learn more about this 2001 release, by the way, you can do so by reading my Guru Logi Champ review. Also, you can ogle the most interesting pages of the game's instruction manual in this "Manual Stimulation" post. And if you'd like to see a few more photos of its box and cartridge, check out this Flickr album of mine.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Who's that (ASCII) girl?

Did you see yesterday's post about the completely awesome--not to mention complete-in-box--copy of Otocky that I picked up recently? If not, check it out here.

And if so, would one of you--those of you who know Japanese, especially--be so kind as to help me figure out the identity of the girl shown in the photos below?

The first photo is of the front of Otocky's outer box, while the second is of the back of its box.

I'm guessing the second photo, and the text that accompanies it, will be more helpful to those of you who are willing to come to my aid, but what do I know?

Also, I wouldn't be at all surprised to hear that the girl in question won some sort of competition held by ASCII, or that she was one of those "idols" the Japanese seem to be so fond of.