A cute kiss of death: early-ish impressions of Uchu Shinshuchu for Nintendo Switch

If you've ever dreamt of playing an old-school action-platformer that has you kiss enemies rather than jump on or otherwise attack them, Uchu Shinshuchu may be the game for you. Or it may not be, as even after conquering 25 of its 51 stages I'm still teetering on the fence as to whether I like or loathe this digital Nintendo Switch title.

My main issue with Uchu Shinshuchu, which tasks players with saving the world from an alien invasion using the power of their puckered lips, is that you have to get really close to an enemy to kiss it. That would be fine if the game provided its protagonist (named Saturday-Chan) a life or health bar and flubbing a kiss resulted in damage rather than death, but it doesn't. As such, you die when you lean in to kiss an enemy but instead miss and run into it.

Uchu Shinshuchu's start screen

That said, I've come to (mostly) appreciate this mechanic. It's strangely... fitting? You generally need to be bold to kiss someone, after all. Well, boldness is required to succeed at Uchu Shinshuchu, too.

A second issue with Uchu Shinshuchu, which may be even more damning than the first one, is that there's no backtracking. If you get stuck on a particular stage, you need to beat it or start over from the very beginning of the game.

Uchu Shinshuchu's story is as wacky as its gameplay

That hasn't proven to be a huge problem for me yet, but what has proven to be a problem is getting stuck during a boss encounter. I'm currently on the game's fifth boss and having a devil of a time defeating him. So, I can either keep trying or give up.

On a related note, another of Uchu Shinshuchu's unique gameplay components has you "befriend" (for lack of a better word) all enemies you kiss. You can toss these so-called frenemies at their comrades to stun them, which then makes them easier to kiss and befriend.

Yes, you kiss enemies into submission in Uchu Shinshuchu

That's cool and at least somewhat useful during the game's regular stages. It's nearly useless during boss fights, though, as if you don't defeat a boss on your first try (and if anything you're like me, you won't), you can't make use of these tossable frenemies. Why? Because you lose your cache of captivated frenemies when you die.

As a result, you usually have to tackle Uchu Shinshuchu's bosses solo. Considering how close you need to get to kiss them, this can be a frustrating challenge. I have a feeling a lot of folks will quickly give up on the game because of this alone.

You'll see this message a lot while playing Uchu Shinshuchu

Which is too bad, as I otherwise like Uchu Shinshuchu quite a bit. Although I found the kissing "attack" off-putting at first, it's since grown on me to the point that I now view it as a pretty novel addition to the often-staid platformer genre. Also, the game has a nice, if simple, look to it and a peppy soundtrack that recalls similar offerings of yesteryear (think Mega Man and the like). It helps, of course, that I don't mind dying over and over and over again. On the contrary, it usually cracks me up. If it's likely to drive you mad, you should probably give the game a pass.

Speaking of buying or passing on Uchu Shinshuchu: I paid $2 for it. The game usually goes for $8. I wouldn't recommend buying it at full price. I'm fine with having spent $2 on it, but I doubt I'd be as happy if I'd spent $8.

See also: why The Cruel King and the Great Hero is a better bedtime story than it is a satisfying JRPG

Ten questions with Christophe Galati, maker of Save me Mr Tako

I had a keen eye on Christophe Galati's Save me Mr Tako: Tatsukete Tako-San long before it hit Steam and the Nintendo Switch eShop this time last year.

To put it another way, I drooled over this adorable, octopus-starring platformer back when it was still a Wii U title. And when it was being considered for the New 3DS, too.

In the end, neither of those now-defunct systems were blessed with Save me Mr Tako. Why? Sadly, I don't know. I rather stupidly forgot to ask Christophe about those planned-but-canned releases when he agreed to answer a few questions about the game a couple of weeks ago.

I asked him a number of other intriguing questions, though. Or at least I hope they're intriguing. You be the judge.

The Gay Gamer: How long have you been making games and what prompted you to start making them? Also, what kinds of games did you make early on?

Christophe: I was really into JRPGs and retro games growing up, as my brother was a game collector. I started to create games when I was 12, after discovering RPG Maker with a friend. My first attempt was a Pokémon fan game. It had a Final Fantasy-like battle system and a very dark story with Mudkip sacrifices.

I learned a lot, then decided to make more personal projects, learn pixel art and write stories. I continued using RPG Maker, and showed my work in online forums. At 18, I went to a game school--Isart Digital--in Paris, where I learned more about game design and programming while also working in the industry.

Christophe Galati sporting a Zelda tee

The Gay Gamer: I'm guessing Save me Mr Tako was your first "big" game--or at least the first one that was picked up by a publisher, made you money, etc. How did you go from developing games for fun, or on the side, to this?

Christophe: Correct, Save me Mr Tako is my first game as an indie. I started to create it in 2014, at a time when I was very depressed by the game school I was attending and the internship I had (where I was making a game for a French cheese company). It was the GameBoy's 25th anniversary year, I ate takoyaki for the first time and got the vision of an octopus character. All of this merged in my mind, along with my JRPG inspiration, and led to Tako.

I started with a small prototype that I published in September of that year, and it got a lot of visibility, especially in Japan. It gave me the motivation to make a full game of it, even though I was 19 at the time. I worked on it in my free time for three years, with the help of the composer Marc-Antoine Archier. Then, the game was selected for the Tokyo Game Show in 2016. It was like a dream come true. That’s where I met Nicalis. After that, I decided to leave my job and go full-time indie. The game finally released last October, after four years of hard work.

The Gay Gamer: How was that experience for you overall, now that it's behind you? Are you happy with how Save me Mr Tako turned out and how players responded to it?

Christophe: It’s never behind you. There are still many things I want to do with the game. I’m glad I was able to follow my vision and make the story come to life, as my first goal when designing a game is to tell a story. I’m proud to have made such a large game, but I’m kind of sad it has some balancing issues, as it was never my intention to make a hard game. After four years on my own, I couldn’t feel the difficulty anymore. Hopefully it will be patched soon so more people can enjoy the story.

I also learned a lot by working with a publisher, and feel prepared for what will come next. I’m glad players liked the game and identified with the characters, that it got the "hidden gem" aura and is considered one of the best GameBoy tribute games.

A scene from Save me Mr Tako

The Gay Gamer: Kind of an aside here, but Save me Mr Tako features drag queens. What made you decide to include them in the game?

Christophe: You can thank my friend Mirage for that! She introduced me to drag culture around the time I started development, and brought me to a few drag shows in Paris. It was so much fun! I’m all for making games more inclusive, to help the representation of LGBT characters--that’s something I want to keep doing in my next creations.

The Gay Gamer: Do you think you'll ever return to that world, perhaps with a sequel to Save me Mr Tako? And if you did ever return to it, what do you think you'd add to or change about it? Would it even still be a platformer?

Christophe: I hope I can return to that world someday. Now that I have more distance with it, I realized there were a lot of elements and ideas that came from the projects I made when I was a teenager, with an octopus twist. I guess it’s my own universe, and I want to keep expanding it.

But I don’t want to do a platformer again soon. My goal is to lean toward the JRPG genre, which is more suited to the stories I want to tell. I love to write universe and lore documents, so I may also create new worlds. Who knows what projects I will have the chance to work on in the future?

The Gay Gamer: You recently completed a five-month artist residency program in Kyoto. How did that change how you think about and make games? What are some of the things you learned there that are impacting your next game?

Christophe: Earlier this year, I got the chance to become the first game developer to be selected in a French artist residency. It’s something I've had in mind since seeing a documentary about Villa Medicis a few years ago. That made me think it would be great to have these kind of places open for game creators. When I discovered Villa Kujoyama in Kyoto, I had to apply. It was perfect for my needs, as my games are very inspired by Japanese culture.

Another Save me Mr Tako scene

I really think I grew up during those five months. It gave me more confidence as an artist and in the messages I want to express in my games. Being able to work in such a cool environment, surrounded by artists from very different fields and experiencing life in Japan--all those things inspired me a lot. It also gave me time to take care of myself after crunching on Tako, to get in better shape, to do research and a real pre-production this time.

The Gay Gamer: Speaking of your next game, it seems to be something you're calling the Himitsu Project. It appears to be inspired by Famicom games rather than GameBoy ones this time around. Is that the case? If so, why are you going for a Famicom aesthetic with it?

Christophe: Himitsu Project is a code name. I always saw Tako as a first step in a journey of paying tribute to and mastering the aesthetic of games that inspired me growing up. I started with the GameBoy, and am now moving on to the GameBoy Advance. I agree the current palette of the prototype is very limited, making it look like a Famicom game, but this way people understand it’s a prototype and that nothing is final. (That’s also why the character is still naked.) I hope that in future projects I’ll be able to explore aesthetics like the PS1 and DS, too.

The Gay Gamer: What else can you share about the Himitsu Project at this time? Does it fit into any particular genre or genres? Have any existing games served as inspiration for it? How far along are you in its creation?

Christophe: The game is an action RPG that's inspired by many games, including Illusion of Gaia, Golden Sun and Secret of Mana. The main themes it will deal with are secrets, how our society and people are built on traumas and how that consumes the world from the inside. It will follow several characters, including a drag performer.

Christophe Galati's Himitsu Project

It’s still the beginning of the project, I think it will take at least three years to develop--if I manage to not only work on it in my free time as I did with Tako. That’s what I’ve been working on since I returned to France--applying for funding and creating opportunities for the project.

The Gay Gamer: You say on your Patreon page that you want to form your own company at some point. Why is that?

Christophe: That’s also why I opened a Patreon page recently. It’s part of creating the good working conditions I’d like to have. I was able to develop Tako mostly alone, but in the future, I’d like to work with a team. That will benefit the quality of the final game and allow me to make even more ambitious projects. Starting my own company will help with funding, too, and that will provide even more opportunities. I’m just at the beginning of my career, and I want to see how far I can go to make my dreams come true.

The Gay Gamer: You also say you eventually want that company be seen as a modern Quintet. How exactly do you hope to follow in the footsteps of that company?

Christophe: For me, Quintet will always be a company with an aura, which made meaningful games. That is kind of what I aspire to--I want to create masterpieces, games that will inspire people as those games inspired me growing up.

My goal is not to revolutionize the game industry, but to explore new subjects, use gameplay to tell stories that will reach the heart of players, create great adventures that will make them understand things and help them in their own lives. I see games as an artform, and I want to defend that view. I believe our generation is the game industry of tomorrow, and I want to help make it less abusive and more inclusive.

See also: 'Ten questions with the guys behind the best GameBoy game you've probably never played, Tobu Tobu Girl'

Five reasons I (mostly) hate myself for waiting 26 years to play Super Mario Land 2 for the first time

You may have heard me grouse here or there about the fact that I've never played Super Mario Land 2 for the GameBoy.

It's my own fault, of course. No one kept me from playing it.

The thing is, I can't really say what did keep me from playing it all this time. Which is strange, as I recall enjoying the original Super Mario Land quite a bit back in the day.

Granted, that title launched alongside Nintendo's first handheld in 1989. And it was a lot easier to please GameBoy owners then than it was when Super Mario Land 2 followed it onto store shelves in 1992.

Did I become a more discerning game fan during the three-and-a-half-year span between those two releases? Maybe, but I doubt it.

Far more likely, in my opinion, is that I couldn't shake the (admittedly uninformed) feeling Super Mario Land 2 was little more than a poor man's version of Super Mario World.

Do I still feel that way about the game now that I've played and even beaten it? (I accomplished the latter last week.) Not really, and here are five reasons why:

It's far less of a Super Mario World ripoff than I assumed it to be--Some of you probably are wondering why I ever thought Super Mario Land 2 was a ripoff of Super Mario World. To be honest, I can't remember. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the Mario sprites in both games look pretty darn similar? Regardless, I no longer have such an erroneous opinion of the iconic character's second portable outing. Instead, I now respect its uniqueness and even silliness.

The zone maps are everything--Seriously, how could Nintendo give us something so fabulous and then never return to it? Each and every one of the zone maps included in Super Mario Land 2 brought a smile to my face during my breezy playthrough, though the Mario, Pumpkin, and Space ones especially thrilled me. Admittedly, they're just maps--and single-screen maps, at that. Still, they add a sense of childish whimsy to the experience that most side-scrolling Mario games lack.

Many of its enemies remind me of the first Super Mario Land--And by that I mean they're completely bonkers, of course. They're also a breath of fresh air compared to their counterparts that appear in nearly every other Mario game in existence. I mean, who needs Goombas and Koopas when you have pigs who shoot cannonballs out of their huge snouts (they're called Bomubomu) and fish-cow combos (Mōgyo) that try to gore you with their pointed horns?

I like its mostly unique (for the Mario series) soundtrack--I'm used to Mario games featuring tons of reused tunes. That's not the case here. In fact, I'm not sure any of Super Mario Land 2's music was pulled from previous entries in the long-running series. Regardless, pretty much every song this cartridge offers up is almost profanely exuberant. That makes playing through this platformer even more grin-inducing than it would be if it sported the typical Mario soundtrack.

A late-in-the-game stage pays homage to the "Balloon Trip" mode of Balloon Fight--Some of you may not know this, but I absolutely adore the "Balloon Trip" mode of Balloon Fight. It's the ultimate "just one more try" type of game experience for me. Does this mean I've been playing the Super Mario Land 2 stage alluded to above over and over again since I first encountered it? Not on your life. I sure enjoyed my first time through it, though, and I'll always look forward to it in future attempts.

As for that "mostly" I hid in this post's headline, well, I did that because I don't love each and every aspect of Super Mario Land 2. For example, jumps in this game feel stiffer than they do in other Mario side-scrollers. Also, it's far from the meatiest platformer I've ever played. (I finished it in a few minutes over three hours.)

Despite those minor missteps, I had a blast getting to know Super Mario Land 2 via my trusty 3DS recently. It was the polar opposite of the samey New Super Mario Bros. titles Nintendo's frustratingly focused on for the last decade-plus.

Here's hoping whoever there heads up the next Mario sequel turns to this 1992 release for a bit of inspiration.

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

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

A few thoughts on Super Mario Odyssey now that I've put about 10 hours into it

There's no question the Nintendo Switch has taken over my gaming life since I finally nabbed one in late September. (Read my early impressions of this hybrid console here.)

Not only has it prompted me to dump nearly 20 hours into Golf Story (for some thoughts on this intriguing indie, see this post) in the ensuing days and weeks, but it's also prompted me to dump about 10 hours into Super Mario Odyssey.

I'd say that's more than enough time to form some solid opinions of the latter game, wouldn't you?

Speaking of which, here are a few impressions of Super Mario Odyssey given what I've experienced of it so far.



The Cappy-tossing mechanic is the best thing that's happened to the Mario series in some time--As the headline of The Guardian's Super Mario Odyssey review states, "controlling a sentient hat has never been so fun." Not only is it an absolute blast to simply throw Cappy here and there (in a way that's thrillingly reminiscent of tossing water bubbles in Mizubaku Daibouken), but it's even more satisfying to chuck him at an object or being to see if Mario can "possess" and control them.

That said, I kind of wish some of Super Mario Odyssey's many costumes also acted as power-ups--There's no question Cappy is a cool addition to the long-running Mario series. Still, his presence isn't enough to keep me from missing the power-ups that populate previous games like Super Mario Galaxy and Super Mario 3D World. The same is true of Odyssey's plethora of collectible costumes. Changing Mario's look is nice and all, but it would be even nicer if at least some of them provided the mustachioed icon with a unique ability or two. Maybe that's what Nintendo will give us with Super Mario Odyssey 2?



The different art styles offer a welcome change of scenery--If you ask me, too many modern Mario games look alike. That's especially true of the two-dimensional New Super Mario Bros. titles, of course, but I'd argue it's also true of the more recent three-dimensional efforts like Super Mario Galaxy and Super Mario 3D Land. Odyssey throws a wrench into the works by providing a handful of worlds (kingdoms, actually) that veer off in different directions, aesthetically speaking. Personally, I would've preferred it if every kingdom sported a completely unique art style, but I also can understand why Nintendo's designers and developers thought that might be a bit too shocking for your average Mario fan.

I don't understand why this game includes question mark blocks--In almost every Mario game I've played before this one, smashing a question mark block often causes a power-up to pop out. In Odyssey, the same action usually nets you a coin. If you're "lucky," you get a life-enhancing heart instead. Whoopdidoo, right? Granted, I still break (nearly) every question block I encounter, but I'm not sure I'll continue to do so as I edge closer to the game's end credits.



The lack of in-game information regarding handheld-specific moves is frustrating--Even more frustrating: the lack of handheld-specific moves, period. Although you can play Super Mario Odyssey with your Switch configured as a full-on handheld (as opposed to a TV-connected or tabletop console), doing so means you won't be able to pull off a number of Mario's many moves. That's beyond disappointing, in my opinion. To be sure, it hasn't kept me from completing at of the game's worlds, but I have a feeling it'll eventually keep me from grabbing some of its moons.

Sure, many of the game's moons are basically handed to you, but that doesn't bother me--I've heard some folks say Super Mario Odyssey contains too many moons. (This title's version of Super Mario 64's and Super Mario Galaxy's stars.) I've also heard people complain that too many moons are easily acquired. I can't disagree with the latter, but I also can't say it bugs me all that much. Actually, I like that you can nab a good number of moons with very little effort. Not only does it make grabbing the tougher-to-reach moons all the more electrifying, but it allows beginners (or people who have a hard time with three-dimensional games) to feel like they're accomplishing something, too.



I can't believe I'm saying this, but I kind of miss the 3DS' 3D capabilities here--I'm one of those weirdos who rarely uses the 3DS' 3D capabilities. In fact, the only time I can remember turning it on for more than a few minutes was when I traipsed through Super Mario 3D Land. Why'd I make an exception for that game? Because it made certain platforming sections a lot less frustrating. I'm pretty sure 3D functionality would prove similarly helpful while playing Super Mario Odyssey. Oh, well, you can't have everything. And, honestly, I don't wish the Switch had a 3D screen--even if it made leaps in Odyssey a little easier.

Super Mario Odyssey's inconsistent use of music is curious--And I don't necessarily mean curious in a bad way. Sometimes ambient noise is preferable to an annoyingly catchy jingle while playing an atmospheric game such as this. That said, I'm kind of surprised so many kingdoms are music-free experiences. I would've expected those without backing tunes to be few and far between, but at the moment it seems like every other locale lacks a soundtrack. Still, I'd say the silence is better than the incessant "wah wah" effects that fill the levels of many other recent Mario titles.

Have you spent any time with Super Mario Odyssey? If so, what do you think of the opinions I've spouted off here? Share your own in the comments section below.

Second Chances: Bubble Bobble 2 (Famicom)

Given my love of the original Bubble Bobble, you might assume I've adored this pseudo-sequel since the first time I played it. (Don't let its name fool you; Rainbow Islands is the real follow-up to the aforementioned classic.)

In reality, I've attempted to play--and enjoy--Bubble Bobble 2 a number of times since its release 24 years ago. Sadly, each attempt (made via emulation, I have to add; I haven't yet gotten up the nerve to drop a few hundred dollars on a game I've long struggled to like) ended with me shaking my head in disbelief, wondering how the masters at Taito could've screwed up so badly.

What do I mean by "screwed up"? Consider Bubble Bobble 2's graphics. Anyone who tries to tell you they even approach the kaleidoscopic adorableness of Bub's and Bob's first foray into the "cave of monsters" is someone you shouldn't trust, in my humble opinion.

Heck, I'd go so far as to say I prefer the aesthetics of the Rainbow Islands Famicom port to those of the game discussed here, and that particular home version of the official Bubble Bobble successor isn't exactly known for being a looker (especially when compared to its quarter-munching counterpart).

Another visual aspect of Bubble Bobble 2, aka Bubble Bobble Part 2 outside of Japan, that's kept me from warming up to it as much as I thought I would when I first became aware of it: its sprites. They're all out of whack in terms of size. Specifically, Bub and Bob appear to have gained a few pounds since their initial go-round, while their well-known adversaries seem to have been zapped by some sort of futuristic shrinking ray.

That's not the end of the world, admittedly, and if you're like me you'll get over the questionable art direction in time, but even then it remains one of the ugliest Bubble Bobble games around.

The worst offender when it comes to Bubble Bobble 2's looks, though, is its lazy backdrops. Although a couple of them are nice enough, they stick around for so long they become boring. This is especially true of the yawn-inducing, column-filled environment that opens the game. It barely changes while you progress through the first 10 levels, and when you finally make it to the 11th, the sky color switches from blue to coral and that's it.

Later stages offer backgrounds that are far more interesting, thankfully, but even they tend to overstay their welcome.

The good news amidst this deluge of negativity: all the complaints I've leveled at Bubble Bobble 2 so far are merely cosmetic. (That's not to say I can't think of a few others, such as its lackluster soundtrack and its abundance of flicker.) Even better, they irk you less and less the more you play the game--or at least that's been the case for me. As an example, I currently consider the Bub (or Bob) sprite to be kind of cute, which is worlds away from my initial, horrified response to it.

Also, Bubble Bobble 2 is an enjoyable enough single-screen platformer even though it's far from the most attractive one around. That's largely because of how bizarre it eventually shows itself to be.

A case in point: after nearly putting you to sleep with 19 straight stages populated by a few stray clouds, columns and bushes (as well as a bunch of baddies, of course), the game whisks you away to what looks like a brick-lined dungeon to battle what I can only describe as a xenomorph riding a motorcycle. (See screenshot above for evidence.)

How this fits into Bubble Bobble 2's overall story, I cannot say. I can say, however, that it served as a turning point in my relationship with this odd duck of the Bubble Bobble series.

After encountering that Alien-esque boss--as well as the enemy that looks like a mashup of a Star Wars AT-ST and a Zen-chan as well as the one that seems to be made up of a skeletal head, a chain-link body and bony little legs (again, see screenshot above)--I developed an appreciation for Bobble Bobble 2's unapologetic wackiness.

I'd still rather play the original Bubble Bobble, Rainbow Islands or Parasol Stars, mind you, but I think it's safe to say I'll toss this 1993 release into the mix now and then thanks to my most recent--and mostly positive--experience with it.

See also: previous 'Second Chances' posts about the Famicom ports of Chack'n Pop, Don Doko Don and Rainbow Islands, as well as Bubble Bobble Junior for the GameBoy

Nice Package! (Bikkuriman World, PC Engine)

Over the years, I've "come around" to loads of games I initially found underwhelming (or worse).

A few examples I've written about as part of my on-again, off-again "Second Chances" series: Bubble Bobble Junior for the GameBoy, Don Doko Don for Famicom, Magical Taruruuto-kun for Game Gear and Valkyrie no Densetsu for PC Engine.



Why I've yet to publish a "Second Chances" entry on Hudson Soft's Bikkuriman World is beyond me. After all, while my first experiences with this PC Engine reimagining of Sega's Wonder Boy in Monster Land left me feeling unimpressed, my opinion of it improved substantially following subsequent playthroughs.

That's not to say my negative early impressions of Bikkuriman World weren't warranted. The game features tiny character sprites, a rather intrusive HUD (status bar, basically) and controls that are equal parts slippery and stiff.

Later jaunts through its adorable environments were far less annoying. The complaints I just leveled at the game remained true, of course, but some of them slowly, but surely, morphed into aspects I either accepted (its controls) or appreciated (its graphics).

A few things I didn't have to come around to regarding Bikkuriman World are its HuCard label and manual cover.

Both are showcased in the photos above. Even when I wasn't a fan of the game, I still liked the chibi character illustrations that are the focus of its cover and cart-label art. I've always long loved the bubbly Bikkuriman logo, too.

Sadly, the instruction manual packed inside copies of this side-scrolling platformer isn't quite as visually impressive as that booklet's cover imagery. To see what I mean, check out my "Manual Stimulation" post about Bikkuriman World.



Also, if you're a PC Engine fan in general, keep an eye out in the coming weeks and months for more "Nice Package!" posts devoted to games made for NEC's console.

In the meantime, enjoy the ones I've already published about Dungeon Explorer, Pac-Land, Parodius Da! and Son Son II.

Five more overlooked Japanese GameBoy games you need to play as soon as possible

Late last year, I published a post about five overlooked Japanese GameBoy games I thought all interested parties should play as soon as humanly possible.

The titles highlighted in the write-up were Astro Rabby, Burning Paper, Noobow, Painter Momopie and Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe: Ohanabatake wa Dai-Panic, in case anyone would like a refresher.

At the time, I had no intention of following up that article. A couple of weeks ago, though, it struck me that I'd left more than a few sadly ignored GameBoy cartridges out of my original offering.

Will I ever publish a third? I'm not planning to, but who knows. There's no question there are more Japanese GameBoy carts that deserve to have the spotlight turned their way, so if I can corral five of them I may just push forward with yet another "overlooked Japanese GameBoy games" post.

In the meantime, I'd highly recommend you do whatever you need to do to check out the following:

Banishing Racer--I'm not so sure this game can be called "overlooked" at this point, especially among collectors. Still, I have a feeling your average Joe or Jane who only has a passing interest in Nintendo's first handheld system is completely unaware of Banishing Racer's existence, so I'd say it's as deserving of a mention here as any other Japanese GameBoy cartridge.

As for why I think those Janes and Joes should play this Jaleco-made offering, my main reason is it's a side-scrolling platformer that stars an adorable anthropomorphic car. Also, it sports a breezy soundtrack that's surprisingly easy on the ears.

Unfortunately, Banishing Racer is short (just five worlds with three stages in each) and tends toward being cheaply difficult, but controlling a car with googly eyes--which may or may not be "related" to the vehicle at the heart of another great Jaleco game, City Connection--far outweighs both of those negatives in my humble opinion.

Before you run off and try to hunt down a copy of Banishing Racer thanks to all the gushing I've done here, know that even loose carts can go for astronomical amounts these days.

Cave Noire--Oh, Konami. Once upon a time, you produced some absolutely wonderful games--like this one, in fact. Not that you bothered to bring Cave Noire to Australia, Europe, North America or any other region outside of Japan.

Of course, it's hard to blame the powers that be at Konami for giving the thumbs down to a localization of this portable roguelike. After all, the genre wasn't all that popular among console gamers in the early 1990s. (Cave Noire hit Japanese store shelves in 1991.) Thankfully, GameBoy systems were and continue to be region-free, so anyone who wants to put this curious title through its paces is free to do so.

As for what they'll encounter after booting it up: that would be a dungeon-crawling RPG that takes some interesting liberties with the pattern laid down by genre-maker Rogue. You see, Cave Noire is divided into four distinct dungeons. Each of these claustrophobic chambers focuses on a different victory condition: one tasks you with collecting a certain amount of money, one demands you save a certain number of trapped fairies and so on and so forth.

That combined with the bite-sized nature of the game's dungeons as well as its eye-pleasing visuals (which remind of Final Fantasy Adventure, aka Seiken Densetsu) and similarly adroit audio propels Cave Noire into must-play territory even if you don't know a lick of the language.

Kitchen Panic--Full disclosure: this Coconuts Japan-published (in 1991) game is the least impressive of all the ones highlighted in this post. Thankfully, you also should be able to pick up a copy of Kitchen Panic for less money than you'd have to pay to buy any of the other titles mentioned here.

As for why Kitchen Panic fails to thrill as much as, say, Cave Noire or Peetan, that would be because it's basically an arcade-y action game that doesn't provide a whole lot of depth. That's not to say it's not fun. If you're in the mood for a nice little Mario Bros.-esque score-attack game that sports cute backdrops and sprites (mostly of various insects), Kitchen Panic is as good an option as any that were produced for the GameBoy during its long life.

One last comment before I shut my trap and move on to the next overlooked Japanese GameBoy title: if you suffer from entomophobia you'll want to treat Kitchen Panic like the plague, as killing creepy-crawlies is the focus of this Bits Laboratory-made cartridge.

My 10 Most Influential Games: Kid Icarus (NES)

Although a number of its initial releases lured me and my older brother to the NES in the year following its North American release, none had a more powerful pull on us than the pair of Nintendo-made "Adventure Series" games known in the West as Metroid and Kid Icarus.

I was especially drawn to the latter title, which was made by Gunpei Yokoi, Satoru Okada and Yoshio Sakamoto, among others, and which first hit store shelves here in July of 1987. (Just a month before Metroid and The Legend of Zelda, in fact.)

There are all sorts of reasons for that, of course. A rather stupidly superficial one is that, right off the bat, I was a fan of Kid Icarus' magenta logo. (Hey, I've never been shy about my love of the color pink.)

Also catching my eye early on: the cover art's depiction of Pit. I was keenly interested in Greek mythology back when Kid Icarus was released, so a game that allowed me to play as an angel who has to traverse a world full of crumbling stone pillars, fantastic creatures and even goddesses--Medusa among them--quickly commanded my attention. (Speaking of the creatures that populate this game, you can see illustrations of all of them in the Hikari Shinwa: Parutena no Kagami GameBoy Advance instruction manual.)

And then there were the write-ups in Nintendo Power and elsewhere that showcased Kid Icarus' colorful locales. Purple bricks and stone, red-checkered floors, pink and green clouds--my younger self thought the game looked like a dream.

I know most folks today don't think Kid Icarus plays like a dream, but I thought it did back in the day. (Hell, I still kind of think it now.) After all, Pit controls pretty darn well, if you ask me. Specifically, he's easy to maneuver--except for when you find yourself on one of the icy ledges that pop up in a number of the game's levels--and he reacts quickly to commands. (I can't imagine anyone describing Kid Icarus as floaty or sluggish.)

Is that why I consider it to be influential? Not really. One aspect of Kid Icarus that did help shape my taste in video games, though, is its difficulty. Admittedly, it's sometimes (some may say often) "cheaply" difficult, but in general I think it just asks a lot of those who decide to play it. In some cases, that means perfectly timing jumps and arrow shots; in others, it means memorizing stage layouts (refer to this site if you need help) and enemy placements.

Regardless, Kid Icarus--along with its silver-box, "Adventure Series" sibling, Metroid--made me realize that while I like my games to be at least somewhat cute (or even simply colorful), I also like for them to be at least somewhat challenging.

Kid Icarus also prompted me to realize and embrace that I prefer action-platformers that dare to be a bit different to those that toe the line. Straightforward efforts that ape Super Mario Bros. are all well and good, but this game took that classic's basic components and built upon them tenfold. Rather than having stages scroll almost exclusively from left to right, Kid Icarus offers up ones that scroll up, down and all over the place. It even features maze-like dungeons that sprawl in all directions and need to be conquered at the end of each four-level world before you can move on to the next one.

Another of Kid Icarus' unique quirks that helped set the tone for my love of platform games that veer from the beaten path: the bow and quiver of unlimited arrows Pit uses to dispatch foes. For whatever reason, that's always struck me as far more interesting and thrilling than, say, Mega Man's "Mega Buster" or Simon Belmont's whip.

Unfortunately, despite all of the above, and despite the fact that Kid Icarus was chiefly responsible for shaping my taste in video games (oddball platformers, in particular), I've barely experienced it and its brilliant Hirokazu "Hip" Tanaka soundtrack in the last couple of decades.

Truth be told, that's mostly because I'm now slightly terrified of it. The last time I attempted to work my way through its technicolor worlds, I struggled to complete its third stage.

Still, I've never been one to shrink away from a challenge, so I'll do my best to boot up some version of the game in the coming days and weeks. Here's hoping this playthrough will be more successful than the quickly aborted ones of the not-so-recent past.

See also: previous 'My 10 Most Influential Games' posts about The 7th Guest, Balloon Kid, Bubble Bobble and Final Fantasy V

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Rainbow Islands Putty's Party

Before you get too excited about this portable reimagining of Taito's classic quarter-muncher--and Bubble Bobble sequel--from 1987, I have to share the following, potentially buzz-killing details:

* A company called DigitalWare developed this version of Rainbow Islands. Besides Putty's Party, the only other releases on its resume are a small handful of "Simple" series games for the PS2 and DS. (In other words, neither legendary developer Fukio Mitsuji nor anyone else at Taito had a hand in this "port.")

* Less damning than the above, but still plenty relevant to this conversation: a company called MegaHouse published Putty's Party (in 2000). The only other games it helped bring to the masses are another WonderSwan game (Tetsujin 28-gou) and a trio of fairly random, Japan-only DS titles.

* Unlike basically every other Rainbow Islands game around, Putty's Party is rendered in black, white and a few shades of gray.

* As far as I'm aware, Putty's Party doesn't include all 10 of the arcade original's islands.

Sorry for that last "as far as I'm aware" bit, but up 'til now I've only been able to complete the game's first four islands (Darius, Doh's, Insect and Monster)--which, intriguingly, can be tackled in any order.

Unfortunately, simply finishing those islands doesn't cause any new ones to appear. My gut tells me more are revealed if you manage to nab all seven collectible diamonds on each of the initial isles, but I can't say that with any certainty since I've yet to accomplish that far-from-simple feat.

As for what I think of the stages I have experienced, well, let's start with a positive impression. An obvious one is that Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party is played with the WonderSwan system held sideways, so its screen is oriented vertically. That may sound gimmicky, but it's not. In this game, as in others made for Bandai's would-be GameBoy competitor, it lets you see quite a bit more of the playfield than you would if everything were depicted horizontally.

Speaking of which, the playfields in Putty's Party--as well as every other visual aspect of the game, really--are surprisingly impressive. I want to call them "arcade perfect" besides their lack of color, but I'm not sure that's technically true. Regardless, they look better than most Rainbow Islands ports of the time. (I'm also rather fond of the manga-inspired intermission screens that follow every stage, I've got to say. They're completely static, but they're also well-drawn and add a welcome bit of flair to this release.)

One caveat I've got to add to the above: the protagonist Putty's sprite isn't quite up to snuff, in my opinion.

Another component of Putty's Party that disappoints, at least at first, is its controls. I've always thought the arcade original seemed kind of stiff, especially while executing jumps, but this WonderSwan version feels even more rigid. It's also noticeably slower than its quarter-munching predecessor, which is sure to increase the annoyance felt by some players.

Here's the thing, though: after a while, and after accepting its existence, the stiff slowness of Putty's Party stopped bothering me. That's not to say I now "like" it, mind you, but I also don't hate it to the point of wanting to smash my WonderSwan Color to smithereens, so I'll call it a wash, if not exactly a plus.

I've also come around to another of this port's quirks--that being how the third (of four) level of each island offers up gameplay that's subtly and strangely different from what Rainbow Islands veterans are used to encountering.

For example, water starts flooding Insect Island's third stage basically from the word go, adding an element of tension that usually only pops up if you dillydally or otherwise take too long to reach an area's summit.

The third stage of Doh's Island, on the other hand, requires you to expose a secret door that acts as an exit rather than climb to a giant treasure chest in the sky to escape its clutches. (Note: at the moment, I don't really know what causes that door to appear, although I suspect the culprit is jumping onto a specific platform or dropping a rainbow onto one.)

Although curious, I wouldn't describe either of these additions as entirely welcome. Still, they provide a unique take on Rainbow Islands' traditional gameplay, so I it's hard to discount them completely.

Given all of the above, I'd warn against spending too much money on a copy of this game if you're at all uncertain you'll enjoy it due to its eccentricities. (I can't help but assume the majority of WonderSwan owners will not respond to them as favorably as I have.)

That said, if you've, say, spent time with Nintendo's Ice Climber and it didn't cause you to put a controller through a wall, and if you aren't horrified by the idea of a colorless Rainbow Islands, you could do worse than add Putty's Party to your WonderSwan collection.

See also: my first 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' post about the WonderSwan Color system

Five more overlooked PC Engine games you need to play as soon as possible

First, my apologies for pretty much only including HuCards rather than CDs in my two "overlooked PC Engine games" posts. (Here's the first one, in case you missed it earlier.)

The fact is, these days I have far more experience with PC Engine HuCards than I do with CDs--especially when it comes to ones the masses have largely ignored. (This is quite the turnaround from when I was a teen and owned a TurboGrafx-16. At that point in my life, I much preferred the system's disc-based games to its cards.)

With that out of the way, here are five additional PC Engine games I think deserve a lot more attention than they currently receive.

Dragon Egg!--Before I get to why you should play this NCS-published HuCard, please understand it's probably the "worst" of the five games discussed in this post. It's also likely to provide the most limited thrills--thanks to the fact it can be breezed through in an hour or less if you're properly skilled. Still, I've had a soft spot for it ever since I first played it a few years ago. Why? Its female protagonist and her dragon companion (who doubles as both a weapon and a form of transportation, depending on how much he's powered up) are the main reasons, although its "early Mega Drive" graphics and gameplay aren't far behind.

Final Match Tennis--It probably seems strange that I would include a tennis game here. And, really, if you loathe the sport this HuCard depicts (in an arcade-y way), you're unlikely to get much enjoyment from it. Everyone else, though, should give Final Match Tennis a chance. It's easily one of the most accessible--not to mention fun--tennis games around, in my opinion, with only Super Tennis for the SNES (Super Tennis World Circuit for the Super Famicom) topping it. One area where this Human Entertainment-made card bests that TOSE-made cart: its snappier gameplay, which helps keep points, games and matches from becoming boring.

Genji Tsushin Agedama--At first glance, Genji Tsushin Agedama appears to be your standard 16-bit side-scroller. That assessment goes out the window as soon as you advance past the game's title screen. To begin with, almost all of its stages are of the auto-scrolling sort. Also, its power-up system is more like something you'd experience in a shoot 'em up (think Gradius or R-Type). Add to this backdrops that are as bright and colorful as can be plus some nicely drawn and animated enemy sprites, and you've got a PC Engine title that should have a far higher profile than does right now.

Makai Prince Dorabocchan--I turned up my nose for a long time at this platformer because I assumed it was nothing more than a poor man's version of Konami's Akumajō Special: Boku Dracula-kun. And, in a way, that's basically what it is. That doesn't mean it's a stinker that should be avoided like rabid skunk, though. It's not as graphically appealing as the aforementioned Famicom (and GameBoy) title, but it makes up for its comparably basic visuals with stages that provide players with an ample number of surprises and boss battles that are fun as they are thrilling.

Mesopotamia--Of all the PC Engine games highlighted here, Mesopotamia likely is the least ignored of the bunch. That's because Atlus both developed and published it (in North America, it's name was changed to Somer Assault). Also, this HuCard is as wacky as any to be made for NEC's Japan-conquering console thanks to its odd protagonist (if it can be called such a thing), which looks like a pink Slinky that can shoot bullets. To make your way through its many maze-like environments, you crawl end-over-end along their walls, floors and ceilings. One bummer: enjoying the scenery isn't an option due to the unfriendly (meaning tight) time limit that's imposed on each and every stage.

See also: previous posts about overlooked Famicom, PlayStation, Game Gear, GameBoy, GameBoy Advance and DS games