Manual Stimulation: Bubble Ghost (GameBoy)

I'm sure I've said this before, but I'm saying it again anyway: some Japanese GameBoy instruction booklets are better than others.

Sadly, the Bubble Ghost manual is one of the "others."



It could be worse, I know. Much, much worse.

I mean, look at its logo, for starters. I'm talking about the main English one here, which is wonderfully and appropriately bubbly, although the Japanese one is awfully nice, too.



And of course the eponymous bubble ghost sitting smack-dab in the middle of it doesn't hurt matters.

Beyond those elements, there's the raspberry-colored ink that's slathered over a good portion of both the Bubble Ghost manual's cover as well as its innards.



Strangely, I'm pretty fond of the fuchsia-tinged screenshots that dot this booklet's pages.

I'm not as fond of the fact that those pages feature only a few illustrations. You'd think a game like this would come with a manual that's filled with drawings of the main character. It doesn't.



Granted, I'm not sure the folks at publisher Pony Canyon put a whole lot of energy into the creation of this booklet.

For a case in point, take a gander at that rather pointless map that takes up more than half of its second-to-last page.



Thankfully, Bubble Ghost's outer box and cartridge label go a long way toward making up for its manual's missteps.

To see what I mean, check out this blog post of mine: "Surprise! The Year of the GameBoy Continues: Bubble Ghost."



Have any of you played this version of Bubble Ghost? Or have you played any other version of the game-, which began life (in 1987) on the Atari ST computer? If so, share your thoughts on the game--or this GameBoy manual--in the comments section below.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Astro Rabby, Noobow, Peetan, and Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe

Nice Package! (PoPoLoCrois Monogatari, PlayStation)

I've looked upon PoPoLoCrois Monogatari, a role-playing game that was developed and published by Sony Computer Entertainment and first released in Japan in the summer of 1996, with a curious eye for a number of years now.

I refrained from buying it, though, because of the language barrier. Although I was more than happy to attempt to play through Japanese RPGs as a teen, I've become less and less willing to do so as I’ve gotten older.

Or at least that’s how I felt until I returned to my Japanese studies earlier this year. Now that I’ve got the language’s hiragana and katakana syllabaries down pat (again) and I’ve started learning actual words and phrases and grammar, I’m feeling quite a bit more confident in my ability to tackle an adventure like this one.

Which should go a long way toward explaining why I finally picked up the copy of PoPoLoCrois Monogatari that can be seen in the photos scattered throughout this post a couple of weeks ago.

Although I’ve yet to start playing it, I’m planning to do just that soon. (Specifically, as soon as this night class I’ve been taking, on and off, for the last nine months wraps up in a couple of weeks.)

In the meantime, I thought I’d share a few snapshots of the game’s packaging, which, in my humble opinion, is so pretty that it deserves every whistle and catcall thrown its way.



I find the game’s cover art especially appealing, I’ve got to say—although, really, only a person with a heart of stone would consider it anything less than stunning, wouldn’t you agree?



I decided to include the photo above here, by the way, because the sticker that is its focus shows that, at some point in its life, this particular copy of PoPoLoCrois Monogatari sat on the shelves of Tokyo’s world-famous Super Potato game shop.



There’s no need to explain the preceding shot, though, is there? After all, the art that’s splashed across the top side of this game’s disc is nearly as spectacular as the art that peeks through its case—or at least that’s how I see things.

I wish I could tell you why I failed to snap any photos of the interior of PoPoLoCrois Monogatari’s instruction manual, but at the moment I’m unable to conjure up any reasons. Don’t worry, I plan on rectifying matters this weekend, so look for some of the above to be published on my Flickr photostream within the next few days.

While you wait, you likely could do worse than waste a handful of minutes ogling the lovely sticker sheet that was hidden inside the manual in question.

Manual Stimulation: Awatama (DS)

There's been a whole lot of Awatama chatter around these parts over the last couple of weeks, hasn't there?

First, I published a post about this Japanese DS title's beautiful packaging (seriously, check it out if you haven't done so already), and then, just yesterday, I showcased the game, which is known as Soul Bubbles in other regions, in the latest entry of my still-chugging-along "A Decade of DS" (or #ADecadeofDS) series.

As such, I thought it would be fitting to devote a "Manual Stimulation" post to it as well--despite the fact that Awatama's instruction manual isn't quite as thrilling as its box art or gameplay.



That's not to say this booklet is a complete dud, of course. One look at its front and back covers is all you should need to be convinced of that. (Click on any of these scans if you want to take a closer, and much better, look at them, by the way.)



The art that appears on the right-hand page above is similarly wonderful, if you ask me. Hell, it may be even prettier than the art that's used on the manual's covers.





The next few pages aren't as exciting, I'm sad to say, although the rather tiny illustration on the left-hand page above, which shows Awatama's protagonist snoozing, nearly makes up for it.





One detail that I really like about this instruction manual is how the edges of its pages progress from one color to another in a rather subtly appealing manner.

Manual Stimulation: Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru (GameBoy)

In the "Another Year of the GameBoy" post I published about this Japan-only GameBoy title a couple of days ago, I spent a sentence or two gushing about its lovely instruction manual.

It didn't feel right to do that and then show off just two of its pages, so I scanned the whole she-bang yesterday with the intention of sharing the resulting images in another installment of my "Manual Stimulation" series as soon as possible.

Well, it seems "as soon as possible" is today, which is pretty amazing considering the amount of time that usually passes between when I decide to write such a post and when I actually publish it.



Anyway, enough about that. On to the Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru (aka For the Frog the Bell Tolls) instruction manual!



Things definitely get off to a nice start with this one, don't you think? My only complaint is that I'd like to see the illustration included in the page above without a bunch of text covering it up.



Thankfully, most of the rest of the illustrations that appear in this game's manual are not as obstructed, with the pair above being good examples.



Ignoring the muscleman in the spread above, I've got to say that I really like how the designers at Nintendo handled the call-outs (the multi-colored boxes filled with explanatory text) that are included throughout this booklet.

Lights, camera, Taiko no Tatsujin DS!

Early last week, I shared some impressions (in this #ADecadeofDS post) of my weeklong playthrough, of sorts, of Taiko no Tatsujin DS.

Although that was my first experience with the vaunted Taiko no Tatsujin series, it was more than enough to get me to fall in love with it.

In fact, I fell in love with it to such an extent that I've since bought (but not yet received) copies of the second and third Taiko no Tatsujin DS games, and I'm seriously considering picking up one of the PSP Taiko titles soon as well.



While we all wait for those copies to make their way to my doorstep, why don't we ogle some of the physical products that are associated with Taiko no Tatsujin DS?

The front cover of this 2007 release can be seen in the photo above, of course, while the back cover can be seen below.



Copies of all three of the DS games--and the first 3DS one, which is known as Taiko no Tatsujin: Chibi Dragon to Fushigina Orb--come with a pair of Taiko-themed styli packed inside their cases, in case you weren't aware.

Here are the two that came with my particular copy of Taiko DS:

Completely adorable, right? Strangely, I've yet to actually use them. Instead, I've used the stylus that came with my original (red) 3DS and the stylus that came with my pink-and-white XL.

As for Taiko no Tatsujin DS' cartridge, well, it's far from amazing in terms of label art, but I snapped a photo of it anyway.

This game's instruction manual is rather nice, though, despite the fact that it was made for a DS title. (In general, I'm not a fan of DS instruction manuals, as they tend to be too long, with too many words and too few photos and illustrations. Of course, the same could be said of most manuals made since about 2001.)



The page above isn't one of the manual's best, mind you, but I'm sharing it here anyway because I love how, in the last of the three boxes explaining how to use the included Taiko styli while playing this game, the document's designers felt the need to point out that you shouldn't stab your 3DS' bottom screen like it's one of the eyeholes in Jason Vorhees' hockey mask.



Pages like the ones above, on the other hand, are nearly worth the price of admission, if you ask me. In fact, I'd do some pretty nasty things if it would net me a poster-sized (and text-free) version of this illustration.

How will the second and third Taiko no Tatsujin titles for DS stack up to this effort? I don't know, but I'm very much looking forward to finding out--and soon. And of course I'll let you know the results of that fact-finding mission as soon as I am able (likely in a post similar to this one).

See also: my #ADecadeofDS write-up about Taiko no Tatsujin DS

A little more Catch! Touch! Yoshi! (DS) love

Did you think I was done talking about Catch! Touch! Yoshi! (aka Yoshi Touch & Go) with yesterday's post? I hope not, because I'm going to chat about it again today.

Well, kind of. Instead of discussing this early DS game's gameplay, I thought I'd talk about its packaging.

The centerpiece of this game's packaging, of course, is its cover art, which can be seen in the photos above and below.

This game's cover imagery is among my favorites for the system, and the illustrations produced for its manual and cart label--both of which are shown in the snapshot above--are pretty sweet (and I mean that literally and figuratively), too, if you ask me.

By the way, getting back to the box art for a second, I really like how it features a DS stylus that's apparently responsible for the squiggly pink lines that careen around its ample acreage.

Anyway, the back of the manual features a really nice image, too. Sadly, the interior of this pamphlet isn't quite as fabulous as its exterior, although I wouldn't go so far as to call it a stinker, either.

Still, it's always nice to see a bunch of colorful Yoshis stumbling around as they are in the manual page above.

Have any of you played Catch! Touch! Yoshi!--or Yoshi Touch & Go, or whatever it may be called in your neck of the woods? If so, what do you think about it?

Or, what do you think of the art showcased in the photos shared throughout this post? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Here's to the best $65 I've ever spent (or, the Japanese GameBoy's packaging is pretty sweet, ain't it?)

I know, I know. The "Year of the GameBoy" posts are coming fast and furious now. Sorry about that. 2014's almost over, though, and I really want to fit as many "Year of the GameBoy" write-ups into it as possible. Hence my last handful of posts.

At least this particular post isn't about a GameBoy game--although I'm not sure those of you who aren't fans of Nintendo's iconic-yet-bricklike handheld will enjoy a post about the system (as well as its Japanese packaging and instruction manual) any more than you'd enjoy a post about one of its games.

It's kind of hard to hate a post that includes photos like the one above, though, right? I mean, just look at that awesome packaging. 

Also, it includes text that alerts passersby to the fact that this system is a "Handy Game Machine." No wonder Nintendo sold a billion of these suckers in the 14-plus years they were on the market.

Here (above) is another shot of the Japanese GameBoy's packaging (and of the system itself). Sorry for the varying quality of the photos included in this post, by the way. They were taken on three different days, and each day offered up different lighting scenarios.

Anyway, the shot above showcases the Japanese GameBoy's oh-so-1990s instruction manual. And because it's a Japanese manual that was produced before, say, the year 2000, it features a number of completely adorable illustrations, such as the ones below.

The back of the GameBoy's Japanese instruction manual can be seen below. I like the design that runs along its edge. I also like that this GameBoy's original owner seemingly acquired it early in 1991.

The backside of the GameBoy's Japanese packaging isn't as thrilling as its front, but that's OK with me. At least it reminds viewers of the rechargeable battery pack Nintendo used to sell for its first handheld. I've always found its design to be appealing, for whatever reason.



I bought the GameBoy shown throughout this post early in the year, by the way, and only paid about $65 for it, if memory serves.

Even better: its screen is in immaculate condition, with absolutely no dead pixels (he says as he furiously knocks on wood)--something that can't be said about the last GameBoy I bought.

See also: previous 'Year of the GameBoy' posts

Manual Stimulation: Parasol Stars (PC Engine)

I've held off on publishing a "Manual Stimulation" post devoted to this popular single-screen platformer until now for one simple reason: it's nowhere near as impressive as it should be given how charming and colorful the on-screen action is.



Sadly, the cover of Parasol Stars' manual is both of those things (charming and colorful) and then some. All of that is washed away, though, as soon as you flip it open.



That said, I guess you could say the bubble-inspired header that tops every interior page of this PC Engine manual is a nice, although hardly stellar, addition to the proceedings.



Other aspects of its layout are similarly appealing, such as the scroll that shares the game's story and the stars that call attention to descriptions of its many stages.



Aside from the above, though, it seems kind of wrong for a manual like this one to feature black-and-white screenshots, don't you think?





It does feature a few illustrations, at least, although they pale in comparison to the ones found in similar Taito efforts, such as the manuals the company produced for some of its other arcade-to-PC-Engine ports like Don Doko Don, The New Zealand Story and Mizubaku Daibouken.

I guess I've come around to Bubble Bobble Junior's box art as well as its gameplay

My initial reaction to Bubble Bobble Junior's box art basically mirrored my initial reaction to its gameplay--which is another way of saying both initially prompted me to scrunch my face in a way that implied I was not altogether pleased.

As I shared in this recent "Second Chances" post, however, I recently came around to this portable platformer's gameplay. Sure, it lacks some of the thrilling punch for which the arcade original is known and loved, but it's still an enjoyable little romp.

I'm not sure why it took me so long to come around to this GameBoy release's box art, to be honest. I have a feeling, though, that I turned up my nose at it early on because it showcases a rather derpy Bub (or is it Bob?) rather than the far more adorable one that was featured in the cover illustration created for this title's predecessor. (I guess you could say I'm not a fan of how Taito has screwed with, er, altered Bub's and Bob's designs in recent years.)

I've since softened my stance, of course, and now I actually find Bubble Bobble Junior's packaging to be pretty darn appealing. 

That's mainly because its logo is both colorful and precious--although both of those words also could be used to describe the rest of its cover, if you ask me.

As is often the case with Japanese GameBoy titles, the back of Bubble Bobble Junior's box is a smidge less exciting than its front.

Unsurprisingly, Bubble Bobble Junior's cart label apes its cover art, although the logo's now in Japanese and makes use of a far less fabulous font.

Those of you who regularly check out my Flickr photostream may have seen this recent upload, which highlights a page of the first Bubble Bobble GameBoy port's instruction manual.

Did the artist responsible for the illustrations showcased in the linked scan also produce the ones seen in the photo above? I have no idea, but I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the same person created both sets of drawings. (He or she may have had a hand in the manuals made for the PC Engine ports of Don Doko Don, Mizubaku Daibouken and The New Zealand Story, now that I think about it.)

See also: 'Where have you been all my life, Cave Noire?'

Manual Stimulation: Don Doko Don (PC Engine)

The designers and artists at Taito really hit it out of the park when they produced instruction manuals for the PC Engine. A couple of cases in point can be found in the "Manual Stimulation" posts I previously published about Mizubaku Daibouken and The New Zealand Story.

The manual made for 1990's Don Doko Don is no exception, and it all starts with its adorable and colorful cover.

The interior of this particular instruction manual eschews color, sadly, but it's hard to say it suffers much as a result.



Like The New Zealand Story's manual, this one features a number of charmingly childish illustrations, such as the ones that can be seen in the scans above. (Click on them for a closer look.)



More such illustrations can be found throughout this instruction manual, with the ones below being some of my favorites. (I love how they simply explain to readers how the game works: bonk enemies on the head with your hammer, then pick up the squished foe and toss it against a wall or other solid object in order to extract oddly spotted fruit from it.)





Later pages showcase noteworthy aspects of each of Don Doko Don's stages as well as drawings of their boss denizens.