Nice Package! (Valkyrie no Densetsu, PC Engine)

I've had kind of an up and down history with Namco's ancient Valkyrie no Densetsu (aka Legend of Valkyrie). Early on, it was the kind of gaming experience that caused me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. In recent months, though, my reaction to this antiquated adventure title, first released as a Japanese quarter-muncher back in 1989, has softened.

As for what prompted this change of heart, well, I'd be lying if I said the 1990 PC Engine port's beautiful packaging--its eye-popping instruction manual, especially--didn't play a role.



Really, though, Valkyrie no Densetsu’s cover art, HuCard label and how-to booklet just gave me that last little nudge needed to get me to buy the game.

Before that, I’d actually come around to its initially off-putting visuals and its limited gameplay. The latter was easier to embrace than the former, despite the fact that it pales in comparison to similar offerings like The Legend of Zelda. (Whereas even the first Zelda effort allows you to wander and explore, Valkyrie limits you to a set path—which at times feels annoyingly restrictive.)

Does all of this drool-covered praise mean I’d suggest other folks add Valkyrie no Densetsu to their collections? I guess you could say that—if you own a PC Engine (or some other device capable of playing that system’s credit card-sized cartridges) and if you’re fine with playing games from an entirely different era.

Even if you can shake your head yes to both of those requirements, though, I’d still recommend playing Valkyrie in some form or fashion (such as through emulation) before handing over your hard-earned cash for it.



Thankfully, you shouldn’t find yourself in the poorhouse if you ignore my advice and purchase it anyway, as copies tend to be reasonably priced.

Plus, even if you end up hating the game—or even if you only play it a few times and then decide you’re done with it—you’ll still be able to enjoy its colorful instruction manual, a couple of pages of which can be ogled in the photos found above and below.



There's a lot more where all of this came from, though, believe me. I guess this means I have to hit the scanner soon and produce another "Manual Stimulation" post, eh?

While I get to that, have any of you played any iteration of Valkyrie no Densetsu? Although the PC Engine port is the focus of this write-up, the original arcade version was included on 1997's Namco Museum Volume 5 and it also made its way onto the (Japanese) Wii Virtual Console in 2009.

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

Nice Package! (Hitsuji no Kimochi, GameBoy Advance)

Would you believe I bought this game, known as Sheep outside of Japan, without knowing a thing about it (other than it was made and published by Capcom and sported a precious cover illustration) a couple of years ago?

Actually, if you've been following me here--or on Facebook or Flickr or Twitter--for any length of time, you probably would believe it.



You'd also probably understand why I purchased it. I mean, just look at its packaging:



Very likely the most adorable thing you've seen all day, right? Perhaps even the most adorable thing you've seen all week or month or year.

Hitsuji no Kimochi's cartridge label (below) is pretty cute, too, if you ask me.



Does the interior of this Japanese GameBoy Advance title's instruction manual follow in the charming footsteps of its cart label and outer box? Yes, in a way--as this next photo shows:

Like most GBA manuals, though, it's a bit too wordy for its own good--or at least that's my opinion of the matter.

Or maybe I should say it doesn't have enough illustrations to compensate for all of the text it throws at readers.  

Oh, well. Every other aspect of Hitsuji no Kimochi's packaging is so swoon-worthy is easy enough to overlook the fact that its instruction manual is a bit disappointing.

Hell, the sheep-branded box flaps (see above) alone would be enough for me to get over that so-called disappointment.



If only I could assure you that Hitsuji no Kimochi's in-game graphics or gameplay are as delightful as the rest of it. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly (am I right?), I've yet to play the damn thing, so I can't do that.

Have any of you played it--or any other version of the game? (Apparently it was released for the original PlayStation, PC and Mac as well as the GameBoy Advance.) If so, what do you think of it?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

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.

Nice Package! (Yomawari, Vita)

Just before Halloween last year, Nippon Ichi Software released Yomawari, a Vita title that ticked off so many of my personal "these things make a great game" boxes that I decided early on it would be a travesty if I didn't pre-order a copy as soon as possible.

After all, Yomawari is both adorable and sort of creepy. Also, it has a great logo and sports some unquestionably stellar cover art.

And then there's the fact that it was made by the wonderful artists and programmers at Nippon Ichi, who have more than earned their reputation for being able to produce endearingly odd video games. 

Pretty much all of the components I just mentioned are showcased in the photo above, by the way. 

I guess you could say they're on display in this post's second snapshot, too. Sure, the yummiest traits of this Vita game's cover art are kind of compressed on its cartridge label, but I think it's still pretty snazzy even in its slightly altered state.

Sadly, Yomawari's otherwise beautiful packaging doesn't include an instruction manual. It does include the following slip of paper, the flip side of which is filled with text that appears to be of the "don't step on this cartridge with your smelly feet" and "try not to dunk this cartridge into a mug of steaming hot coffee" sort.

Oh, well. At least it features another gorgeous--and moody--illustration, right?

As for the back of Yomawari's case, well, it's far from the heights of the front cover, but it's also not a disaster. (Click on it to take a closer look at it, if you're into that sort of thing.)

Would you believe I've yet to even stick Yomawari's cart into my much-loved-but-often-ignored Vita? Yeah, you probably would--especially if you've been coming to this blog for any period of time.

I promise to do my best to rectify that situation in the next couple of weeks, though--despite the fact that I'm not really in the mood for a scary game at the moment. I'll also do my best to play some of the other Vita titles that have found their way into my arms in the last few months--some of which I'll chat about in my very next write-up.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Say hello to my Dragon Quest 'Smile Slime' mug :)

A few months ago, I noticed that AmiAmi was accepting pre-orders for a number of Dragon Quest "Smile Slime" mugs.

Although initially my eyes were drawn to this liquid metal slime mug, in the end I decided to plunk my money down on the more traditional design that can be seen throughout this post.

Now that the vessel in question has successfully made its way across the ocean and into my welcoming paws, I thought I'd snap and share a few photos of it.

As I'm sure you can imagine, the Smurf-blue box showcased above served as my "Smile Slime" mug's home as it crossed the pond last month. 

What you may not be able to imagine is that the box is pretty darn small. I'd say it's just inches--three to four, tops--in any particular direction. 

Here's a glimpse of the mug itself. It's pretty small, too--which I guess could go without saying.

Mind you, it's not so tiny it could be confused with a child's sippy cup, but it's definitely smaller than your typical mug.

Which kind of sucks, as my original plan was to take this mug to work and make all of my co-workers jealous whenever I waltz down to the kitchen to grab a cup of joe.

(Don't trust the selfie above, by the way. I was holding my Dragon Quest-themed mug at least a foot in front of my face when it was snapped. Also, don't mind that expression on my face. I was trying to give the camera the old "single raised eyebrow" look and failed spectacularly.)

Oh, well. I still love my new mug, even if it isn't as large as expected. (Now where have I heard that before?)

If you'd like to get one of your very own, just click on the following link. Don't worry, the folks at AmiAmi don't pay me--or give me any other kickbacks--for promoting their site or products. (Not that there's anything wrong with that sort of thing. I just thought you should know I don't benefit in any way from passing along links like these.)

Buy: Dragon Quest 'Smile Slime' mug

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

Nice Package! (City Connection, Famicom)

Until a few months ago, City Connection was nowhere to be found on the extensive gaming "wish list" that resides on my trusty laptop.

Although I have fond memories of playing some version or other of this odd Jaleco-made action game as a teen, it was a Famicom title I could do without.

Or so I thought. Just before the holidays, I fired up this 1985 release's ROM and had such a blast with it that I decided then and there to track down a complete-in-box (CIB) copy of it.



To be fair, I go through that very same process all the time in regard to other games, and the majority of them are still taking up space on my precious "buy ASAP" list.

What pushed me to pick up City Connection so quickly? There's no question its plucky Japanese box art (above) played a pretty vital role.



I don't know that I'd say the back of City Connection's box is as fabulous as its front, but that doesn't mean the latter is a big old turd.

For instance, I rather like how the reverse side of the package showcases a handful of semi-wonky screenshots like only a retro game can do.



The absolute best part of the CIB City Connection experience, though, is its cartridge. I mean, just look at the beautiful, banana-yellow plastic in the photo above.

Adding to the effect is the focused version of the game's logo and box art.



Now here (or, rather, above) is something you don't see every day--a label on the back of a Famicom cart that features more than a couple of lines of boring text.

Sadly, I'm clueless as to the point of this label. Does it simply reiterate or summarize the information shared on the backside of City Connection's box? Or does it share some kind of unique info with the player? Whatever the case may be, consider me a fan of the general execution.

Have any of you played any iteration of City Connection? If so, what are your thoughts on it?

Yet Another Year of the GameBoy: Tumblepop

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Year of the GameBoy: Seiken Densetsu

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nice Package! (Ni No Kuni, DS)

You know how in my last post--about Ni No Kuni II, which is being prepped for PS4 as we speak--I mentioned that I might publish a post about the original DS game's beautiful packaging soon?

Well, I decided to go ahead and publish it today rather than wait. Why? Because this Japanese title's packaging is beyond gorgeous, and I desperately want to spread the word about it, that's why.

Don't take my word for all of this blather. Check out the following photos and see for yourself.

This first snapshot, above, is of the front of Ni No Kuni's outer slip cover. This "slip cover" is a lot like those cardboard sleeves that so charmingly wrap around (and protect?) Japanese GameCube cases.

And here--again, above--we have the back of that same wrapper.

Beneath that slip cover is a rather large and sturdy cardboard box that is rather obscenely (I mean that in a good way) decorated.

Unsurprisingly, the backside of Ni No Kuni's box is as much of a looker as its front.

FYI: I'm quickly becoming obsessed with the GameCube

Granted, it's really damn easy to fall head over heels in love with Nintendo's fourth console thanks to the adorable form factor of its hardware. Also, the packaging of the system's Japanese games is beyond precious.

Speaking of which, the latter is what's prompted me to regain interest in the GameCube in recent weeks.

What do I mean? Well, after spending time with Mr. Driller: Drill Spirits last month,  I decided to get off my lazy butt and buy Mr. Driller: Drill Land as well.

In case you weren't aware, Drill Land's box art is pretty darn nice. Just as nice, though, is its overall package, which is a lot smaller and cuter than you might think (about the size of a Japanese GBA game box, although thinner). Plus, the little cardboard sleeve that covers and protects the plastic case beneath is a nice change of pace from the bulky DVD cases publishers have used since the PS2 hit the streets all those years ago.

Anyway, that single purchase spurred me to pick up a few more Japanese GameCube titles as well--all of which I'll of course chat about in future blog posts.

I'm also seriously considering finally picking up an "orange spice" Japanese GameCube system sometime in 2016. Not only have I wanted to own one for ages, but making it happen now (or soon) would allow me to play all of these recently acquired games in style, wouldn't you agree?

That may be just what I need to finally get behind this "failed" console. After all, I've hardly been its biggest fan over the years.

I don't know if I've ever shared this here, but I'm surprisingly inexperienced--given my overall love of Nintendo games and hardware--with the GameCube.

I waited a good couple of years before I bought one, and even then it was only because the console was $99 and because I felt a desperate need to experience the weird life sim, Animal Crossing, for myself. (The latter also was on sale at the time, thanks to it being one of the company's rare "Player's Choice" offerings.)

I purchased a few other GameCube titles afterward--The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, Mario Power Tennis and Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door among them--but once I was done with them, I moved on to other systems and rarely looked back. (Animal Crossing has been the one exception, naturally.)

So, this will effectively be my "second chance" with this sixth-generation console--and believe me, I intend to make the most of it.

What do all of you think of the GameCube, by the way? Do you like the system and its catalog of games, or is it a console that's never really done much for you?

You've ogled The Legend of Legacy's lovely Japanese packaging, now ogle that 3DS game's North American packaging

Don't remember the fabulousness of The Legend of Legacy's Japanese packaging? Check out my blog post about it, which features photos of that release's case (interior and exterior), cartridge and folded-up "manual," as well as its soundtrack sleeve and CD.

As for the North American version's packaging, continue reading (or scrolling) to see how it compares to that of the Japanese original.

Admittedly, beyond its size, the North American iteration's outer box--above and below--isn't all that amazing.

That said, I quite like the illustration of the little cat-like character (do any of you know if he or she has a name?) that can be seen in the lower-right corner.

I'm also pretty fond of the random pieces of art that can be spotted on this box's sides and flaps, such the following example.



If you ask me, though, all of the above pales in comparison to the beauty that's showcased on the front and back sides of The Legend of Legacy's North American soundtrack sleeve.





Can anything top that bit of design work? I'd personally suggest--perhaps only meekly, though--that the game's main cover art achieves that goal, although I'd also understand anyone who opposes that line of thinking.



Some of those folks surely prefer the illustrations that grace the front and back covers of the art book that's packaged along with launch-window copies of the North American iteration of The Legend of Legacy.

That book's front cover can be ogled in the photo above, while the back cover can be ogled in the photo below.

Did any of you pick up the North American release of this SaGa-esque 3DS RPG? If so, what do you think about it so far--assuming you've played at least a smidge of it?

I've put about 18 hours into my copy of The Legend of Legacy so far, and I have to imagine I'll put in at least 18 more before I'm done with it.

Don't worry, I'll share some additional impressions of the game long before I reach that point, but in the meantime, I hope these snapshots will serve as a suitable stand-in.