Manual Stimulation: Don Doko Don (Famicom)

Don Doko Don is one of those old games that avoided pinging my radar for a lot longer than it should've done.

Granted, this series hardly is a household name outside of Japan--despite the fact that Taito, the company responsible for developing and publishing it, previously gave the world Space Invaders, Qix, Chack'n Pop, and Bubble Bobble, among other classics.



At any rate, I remained blissfully unaware of Don Doko Don's existence until sometime after I became obsessed with the PC Engine.

You see, Taito ported this single-screen platformer, which stars a pair of mallet-wielding dwarves, to NEC's diminutive console less than a year after its original arcade release in 1989, and just two months after the Famicom port that's the subject of this post.



Why didn't I hear about Don Doko Don for the Famicom before I heard about its PC Engine iteration? I haven't the slightest idea.

At any rate, and as you might suspect, the instruction manual that came packed inside copies of the Famicom port of Don Doko Don is quite similar to the PC Engine port's manual.



The two booklets aren't identical, however. Take the spread above. The pair of illustrations you see here are completely different from the ones you see on the corresponding pages of Don Doko Don's PC Engine booklet.



For the record, I prefer the unique illustrations in the PC Engine release's manual to the ones used in the Famicom release's manual.



All that said, most of the drawings in these two manuals are the same. Generally speaking, though, the ones in the Famicom manual are given a bit more space to breathe than are the ones in the PC Engine manual.



The drawings highlighted on the last few pages demonstrate to readers Don Doko Don's main gameplay loop, which involves whacking enemies with your trusty hammer, picking up their smooshed bodies, and then tossing them at other unsuspecting foes.



The next handful of spreads focus on educating players about the particulars of each Don Doko Don stage. For example, the first world is forested, contains trees that spit out baddies, and features a multi-jack-o'-lanterned boss.

Manual Stimulation: Pri Pri Primitive Princess! (GameBoy)

Don't let its lovely cover art fool you--Sunsoft's Pri Pri Primitive Princess isn't a great game. In fact, most people who've played it will tell you it's an absolute turd.



I can't say I agree with them, at least not entirely. Yes, Pri Pri Primitive Princess has its faults, but the same can be said of a lot of GameBoy titles, in my experience.



Granted, I've got a soft spot the size of Texas for single-screen platformers, the genre that encompasses this Japan-only release from 1990. I've got a similarly large soft spot for games that star cavemen--you know, like Hudson Soft's old PC Genjin (aka Bonk's Adventure) series.



Combine all of the above with the fact that Pri Pri Primitive Princess is, as you should be well aware by now, a GameBoy cart, and you've got yourself the makings of a "must buy" game pour moi, as the French might say.



In other words, I'd covet my complete-in-box copy of Pri Pri Primitive Princess even if its instruction manual were an utter disappointment. Thankfully, it isn't.



You'll see what I mean as you make your way through this post. For now, though, take my word that nearly every page features at least one nicely crafted illustration.



Would I have complained if the folks who cobbled together the Pri Pri Primitive Princess manual way back when had thrown in a few more pieces of art? Of course not.



Even as things stand, though, this manual's still a good bit better than quite a few other Japanese GameBoy instruction booklets currently in my possession.



See also: similar posts about the instruction manuals made for other Japanese GameBoy titles like Bubble Bobble Junior, Lolo no Daibouken, Penguin Land, Snow Bros. Jr., and Tumblepop

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

Manual Stimulation: Tumblepop (GameBoy)

Given my nearly lifelong love of Taito's Bubble Bobble and its many copycats and clones, it might strike some of you as strange that it took me a couple of decades to come across and check out Data East's Tumblepop.

What can I say? It completely bypassed my radar between its arcade release in 1991 and when I finally became aware of the GameBoy port discussed here a few years back.



Speaking of which, you know what prompted me to take notice of this portable single-screen platformer? The brilliantly colorful art that's splashed across the cover of the Japanese version. (See it in all its glory in my "Yet Another Year of the GameBoy" post about Tumblepop.)

Admittedly, it's a bit of a bummer that the Japanese GameBoy port's manual cover isn't as vibrant as its box cover, but it's also not exactly shocking.



I say that because most Japanese GameBoy manuals were printed using just one or two colors of ink. Here, Data East's artists went with blue and green.

HAL Laboratory's, on the other hand, went with red and blue while producing Ghostbuster 2's Japanese GameBoy manual, and Asmik's designers went with blue and orange while making the Pitman manual.



At any rate, the pops of green and blue that are found throughout the Tumblepop booklet's interior are far more impressive than the cover art seen above, if you ask me.



I also really like the unique style that was employed to craft the many character illustrations that accompany those pops of color. The clown showcased on the scan below is a good example.



Thank goodness Data East allowed its designers to create these pieces of art, as the Japanese Tumblepop instruction manual is surprisingly meaty. Without an illustration here and there, flipping through it would be a lot less interesting.

My 10 Most Influential Games: Bubble Bobble (Arcade)

Although I have a pretty good memory, I'm rarely able to recall my first experiences with specific video games.

Thankfully, that's not true of my introduction to Bubble Bobble.

As I'm sure I've mentioned here before, my hometown has a rather nice bowling alley that my friends and I visited regularly while we were growing up. Tucked into its back corner were a slough of arcade cabinets and pinball machines, and we spent as much time playing them as we did bowling.

Among the games that gobbled up our hard-earned allowance money: Gauntlet, Karate Champ, Paperboy, Pole Position, Ring King, Xenophobe--and of course Bubble Bobble.

To be completely honest, I'm not entirely sure what drew my attention to Bubble Bobble's cabinet for the first time. I have a feeling it was the game's glorious, ear-wormy jingle, but it very well may have been its adorable, rainbow-coated visuals.

Something I remember clearly about my initial experiences with this classic quarter-muncher: I absolutely sucked at it. Although I blame some of my ineptitude on not fully understanding Bubble Bobble's rules right off the bat, but mostly I blame it on my life-long discomfort with using a joystick. (Ironic, right? Seriously, though, I've always preferred using a d-pad.)

Still, I kept coming back to it, and over time I got better and better at this Fukio Mitsuji-made (for Taito) title.

So, how did it influence my current taste in video games? It did so in a couple of ways, actually.

One is that it hurled me down the path toward loving games that feature collectible food items. Ms. Pac-Man showed me to its entrance (thanks to the level that offers up a pretzel rather than a piece of fruit, strangely enough), but Bubble Bobble and its bowls of sherbet, corndogs, sushi and martinis pushed me well inside.

Ever since, I've drooled over almost any game that includes such nabables. A few examples: Coryoon, Monster Lair, The New Zealand Story and Parasol Stars. (For more, read my old post, "the 10 fruitiest games (of which I'm aware).")

Bubble Bobble shaped my current taste in video games in another way as well--by opening my eyes to the wonderful world of single-screen platformers. (Here are some of my favorites, in case you're curious.)

Was Bubble Bobble the first single-screen platformer to see the light of day? Not by a long shot. A game called The Fairyland Story--also published by Taito, interestingly enough--beat Bub and Bob to the arcades by at least a year, and I wouldn't be surprised if a handful of other titles could claim the same.

Regardless, Bubble Bobble introduced me to the genre that's now one of my favorites. And not only that, but in the ensuing decades, it's served as a point of comparison for every other single-screen platformer that's come my way.

Naturally, none of those wannabes have quite stacked up to this 1986 release. I think that's because the game they so desperately try to ape is supremely focused and straightforward.

A case in point: unlike most of the games that have tried to snatch its genre-king crown over the years, Bubble Bobble keeps its control scheme simple. You can jump, you can blow bubbles, you can hop on bubbles--and that's basically it. (OK, so some levels let you pop bubbles that send lightning bolts at enemies or cover platforms with swaths of fire, but they're in the minority. The bulk of the game's levels force you to focus on the trio of aforementioned actions.)

Also, Bubble Bobble's stages never take up more than a single screen (hence the name of the gaming genre that contains it). And then, of course, there are its timeless graphics and its grin-inducing background tune.

At the end of the day, though, the aspect that keeps me coming back to Bubble Bobble, and that causes me to label it "influential," is its unfailingly enjoyable gameplay. Even when one of its stages is kicking my butt (an all too regular occurrence, I'm afraid), it never stops being fun.

I can't say that about too many games, can you?

See also: previous '10 Most Influential Games' posts about The 7th Guest and Balloon Kid.

Manual Stimulation: Snow Bros. Jr. (GameBoy)

I don't know about you, but I really love the instruction manuals that were made for Japanese GameBoy games.

I especially love the ones that utilized two-tone or "spot color" printing. The manual showcased in this post is a good example, with others including the booklets that were packed inside copies of Kitchen Panic, Painter Momopie and Penguin Land.

To achieve this effect, just two ink colors--rather than the more traditional four--are used during the printing process. In most cases, one of the ink colors is black, although that's not always true. Two cases in point: Bubble Bobble Junior's manual features blue and green ink, while The Tower of Druaga's features red and green. (Although I spot some black ink on the cover of the latter as well.)



Intriguingly, the artists at Naxat Soft went with either orange or yellow ink (I honestly can't tell which) when they prepped the instruction booklet that would be sold with their GameBoy port of Toaplan's Snow Bros.



I say intriguingly because most such manuals I've come across to date prefer cooler colors like blue and green and purple.

At any rate, I think the effect here is rather pleasing. Plus, it complements the rest of the game's packaging, which leans heavily on primary colors. (To see what I mean, check out my post from a few years back that highlights Snow Bros. Jr.'s outer box and cartridge.)



There's more to the Snow Bros. Jr. booklet than its use of spot color, of course. For instance, it also provides readers with a bevy of adorable illustrations.



Appropriately, they remind me of the similarly rough drawings that can be found in many of Taito's PC Engine manuals--such as Don Doko Don, Hana Taaka Daka!?, Mizubaku Daibouken and The New Zealand Story.



I'm particularly fond of the sushi and item illustrations that can be seen in the scan above, although the one in the lower-right corner deserves all kinds of kudos for so humorously depicting either Nick or Tom--the names of Snow Bros. Jr.'s "cool" protagonists--being accosted by one of the game's baddies.



Aside from the lovely art, this booklet dutifully explains how to play this pint-sized Snow Bros. port. There's not much to it, really--you hit the GameBoy's A button to jump, and its B button to toss snowballs at baddies. Also, once you've encased an enemy in a fully formed snowball, you can kick it with one more B-button press.

That simplicity helps make Snow Bros. Jr. both easy to play and thoroughly enjoyable. Sure, it lacks the brilliant (sometimes garish) colors of the arcade original and its console counterparts, but that doesn't stop this portable iteration from being just as much fun.



Even if that weren't true, I'd still be glad I own a copy of this Japanese GameBoy title. For starters, its cover art makes me swoon. Also, a four-page manga takes up the final section of its manual.



Unfortunately, I can't translate its story for you. I know the first few panels of the first page introduce Nick and Tom and describe their main methods of attack, but that's it. If any of you have the ability to summarize the tale told in the scans above, by all means do so in the comments section of this post.

UPDATE: a reader named Dave Edwards kindly volunteered to translate the entire Snow Bros. Jr. manual into English. Check out the fruits of his labor here.

Nice Package! (Bubble Bobble, Famicom Disk System)

Last fall, I published a post in which I asked folks to help me solve the "mystery" of Bubble Bobble's many Famicom Disk System releases.

Or at least I thought Taito's classic single-screen platformer had earned a number of FDS releases. In reality, it appears it earned just two: a limited edition that offered buyers a copy of Bubble Bubble's Famicom port plus a larger-than-normal instruction manual and the version that's showcased in photos throughout this write-up.

The second iteration could be purchased for a nominal fee from one of the many Famicom Disk Writer Kiosks (learn more about them at famicomdisksystem.com) Nintendo installed in game stores across Japan from the mid 1980s to the mid 1990s.

This "Disk Writer" version of Bobble Bobble has long intrigued me thanks to its two-tone, watermelon-colored manual.

I mean, anyone who has ever visited my Twitter or Tumblr pages knows I'm fond of pink things. Of course, I'm also fond of adorable things--and how else would you describe the cover imagery that's highlighted below?

To be honest, I'd probably have sought out a "Disk Writer" copy of Bobble Bobble's Famicom Disk System port even if its instruction booklet's paper was the color of pea soup thanks to its "lucky cha-cha-cha wow!" tagline.

Thankfully, it's not. And as is hopefully plainly evident in the snapshot below, this booklet's pink-and-green palette looks especially great when employed on its interior pages.

Speaking of which, this particular page of Bubble Bobble's manual highlights some of the game's many point items. My very next blog post will be filled with scans of this manual, by the way, so keep an eye out for it if you get a kick out of stuff like that.

In the meantime, here's one last look at the contents of the "Disk Writer" iteration of Bubble Bobble for FDS. 

It has to be noted that Japanese Famicom owners bought this particular version (with the game written onto "brand new" disks, as Nintendo referred to them at the time) for somewhere between 2,600 and 3,500 yen. 

Bubble Bobble could be "rented" via a Famicom Disk Writer for just 500 yen, too, but folks who went that route had to provide their own blank disks (2,000 yen a pop). Also, rather than receiving a glorious, dual-color booklet like the one that's on display here, they got a folded piece of paper with the game's instructions and accompanying illustrations printed in simple black text.

If you'd like to take a closer look at Bubble Bobble's game disk, you can do so here. Or you can check out its colorful cover slip here. 

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about City Connection, Otocky, Pizza Pop! and Rainbow Islands

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

Shall We Do It? (BATTRIX, Drop Wizard, rainblocks, Tumbledrop and Zoo Keeper DX)

You may remember how, in this recently published post, I said of the iOS puzzler, rainblocks: I'm not sure it's something I'll return to all that often.

Fast forward to today, just over a week later, and although I can't prove it, I'm pretty sure rainblocks--which was made by Eric Koziol--is now my most-played iOS game.

So, what's changed in the meantime? I don't really know, to be honest--well, other than I think my brain went on a walkabout during my initial experience with it, which prompted me to assume it was some sort of endless (or nearly so) puzzle game, like the Tokoton mode of the Zoo Keeper series.

In reality, it's a decidedly timed affair, with the result being that rainblocks feels like a mad-dash, try-to-beat-your-high-score kind of title--which is right up my alley, especially if it's stuck inside a portable device.

rainblocks

One aspect of this iOS game that I've always liked is its art style. It's very simple, but also very clean, colorful, consistent and even "classy," if that makes sense. In fact, I dare say it reminds me of something Nintendo or one of its second-party developers would have made during the GameBoy Advance era to fill the gaps between its heavy hitters.

As for the other games mentioned in this post's header, if I were to line them up based on how much time I've spent with them in the last week or so, I'd probably go with: BATTRIX, Zoo Keeper DX, Drop Wizard and then Tumbledrop.

I don't suppose you're up for taking in some of my thoughts on all of these lovely iOS games (and they truly are lovely, each and every one of them)? If so, please keep reading.

BATTRIX--This bite-sized RPG was made by the wizards at Opus Studio, who also brought the world the Half-Minute Hero games and Jikandia: The Timeless Land, which of course means it features some stunning spritework.

There's more to it than that, though--which probably won't shock anyone who's experienced any of the afore-mentioned PSP titles. This is most evident in BATTRIX's gameplay "hook," which tasks players with exposing its map one tile at a time. (You begin the game standing on a single, solitary tile, and nearly every step you take away from it reveals previously hidden areas and battle-able enemies.)

The idea is a perfect fit for the medium, and a lot of fun to boot. Also a perfect fit for the medium: the controls used in BATTRIX's battle scenes, which of course are intuitively touched-based and which also feature fast, frequent and intriguing weapon changes.

Drop Wizard

Drop Wizard--This was my first iOS game, and it's sure to remain one of my favorites for some time to come. The graphics here are absolutely adorable--and right up there with the best of the single-screen platformer genre, if you ask me.

The gameplay's great, too, in that it wisely considers and keeps in mind the iOS platform's weaknesses (generally unresponsive digital controls being the main one, of course) without letting them hamper the action at hand.

As for what all that nonsensical blather means for the end-user (me and you): instead of focusing on fast-paced leaps and twitchy, last-millisecond responses à la most other single-screen platformers, Drop Wizard focuses on strategy. Which is a good, as all you're able to do in this game, control-wise, is move your adorably behatted protagonist left and right. (Yes, that means there's no jump or other action button.)

I'm sure that sounds more than a bit nuts, but in reality it's brilliantly refreshing.

Zoo Keeper DX

Tumbledrop--Despite this game's title, it's nothing like the wonderful Bubble Bobble clone--or, rather, Snow Bros. clone--called Tumble Pop. That's disappointing at first, or at least it was for me, but it's doubtful you'll feel that way for long, as Tumbledrop's gameplay wastes little time in differentiating itself from any other title you're likely to compare it to.

So, what's Tumbledrop's gameplay like? I guess you could say it's a physics-based puzzler. Actually, it's kind of like Jenga, that block-balancing tabletop game that everybody's become obsessed with at one point or another. Only Tumbledrop is a lot more visually interesting, what with its on-point use of pastels as well as its bricks and blocks and stars that grin like non-creepy Kewpie dolls.

Anyway, it's a lot of fun, and it's no pushover (pun not entirely intended), which always is a good thing, in my opinion. In fact, I've only made it through a few screens so far thanks to its general toughness. Still, I hope I can make it a bit further before I stick a fork in it and move on to some other technicolor iOS title.

Zoo Keeper DX--If you've played some version of Zoo Keeper over the years, you've pretty much played them all. In the case of almost any other series, I'd say that's a bad thing, but these bright, animal-themed puzzlers are such a blast to play that I can't bring myself to do it.

One somewhat negative thing I will say about the iOS iteration of Zoo Keeper is that it's a bit lacking when it comes to modes and options--there are just three of the latter, as far as I can tell, and one of them is an online battle mode I'm unlikely to use.

Other than that fairly minor quibble (especially given Zoo Keeper DX's cheap asking price), though, this one's a ... well, it's a keeper, as that old--and appropriate--cliché goes.

See also: previous 'Shall We Do It?' posts