Five reasons I hate myself for waiting 29 years to finish Capcom's Sweet Home

Like Super Mario Land 2, which I discussed in my last post, Capcom's Sweet Home is an old game I've been meaning to play for many decades now. Nearly three decades, in fact.

Unlike that 1992 GameBoy title, however, I'd at least booted up this scary Famicom RPG from 1989 on a few occasions over the years.

I'd never gotten more than an hour or so into it, though--or at least I hadn't until I started my way through it about a week ago.

Well, that's all in the past. This time around, I played Sweet Home for just over 12 hours. And not only that, but I finished it.

So why do I hate myself for waiting 29 years to thoroughly explore this game's hair-raising halls and grounds? Here are the five reasons that first popped into my head:

Sweet Home absolutely nails the feeling of being locked in a haunted mansion--Seems impossible, doesn't it? After all, not only is the dwelling in question crafted using 8-bit sprites, but it's depicted using a top-down perspective, too. Despite that, Sweet Home is as nail-bitingly claustrophobic as any survival-horror game that takes place in such an eerie (and similarly cramped) locale. You really feel like you're stalking the spooky hallways of an evil manor while playing Sweet Home, and that's a real accomplishment as far as I'm concerned.

Its soundtrack only adds to the tension--Sweet Home's music isn't always easy on the ears. Hell, sometimes it's downright annoying. It's pretty much always fitting, though. As in, even when the game's backing tunes are discordantly irritating, they complement what's happening on your TV screen. Don't take this to mean there are no standouts on Sweet Home's soundtrack. In fact, quite a few of its songs could be heralded as stellar. I'm especially fond of the "eastern garden" tune, with its lightning-like percussion flourishes, and the sweetly melancholy "fresco theme."

I love how its story is revealed in bits and pieces--In most RPGs, you learn about its story through banter between party members or conversations with non-player characters. Here, you're mostly made aware of it via notes and even paintings you discover while exploring the titular "home." That gives the game an air of mystery I'm not sure it would have if it'd stuck more closely to the traditions of the genre. It also enhances the sense of loneliness and unease that permeates this Japan-only release.

The turn-based battles in this game are surprisingly unique--Yes, you read that correctly: Sweet Home features turn-based battles. And they're not unlike those you encounter in Dragon Quest or Mother or numerous other 8-bit RPGs with first-person fights. So what's unique about the ones on offer here? A good example is the "pray" option, which increases your power if you time things right. Another example is the "call" option, which lets you bring straggling party members into an on-going battle. (Although five characters are at your disposal while playing Sweet Home, you're forced to split them into groups of two or three. When you select this command, the game cuts away from the fight at hand so you can move one or more other party members to its location.)

It's nearly the perfect length for an RPG--As I mentioned earlier, my just-completed playthrough of Sweet Home took just over 12 hours. That's a breath of fresh air for someone (such as myself) who rarely has the time, energy, or attention span to deal with 100-plus-hour behemoths like Octopath Traveler. Which isn't to suggest Sweet Home's pacing is perfect. I actually thought it overstayed its welcome by an hour or two. Still, I'll take that over the aforementioned alternative any day.

There's only one other aspect of Sweet Home that turned me off, by the way. What is it? The way it severely limits how many items you and your intrepid companions can hold. I understand why the game's developers decided against giving players unlimited space for these objects (which include candles, fire extinguishers, and pieces of rope), but I wish they'd been a bit more lenient. Thankfully, you can drop seemingly pointless tools and wares on the ground and return for them later if the need arises.

That pair of slight missteps notwithstanding, I found my latest (and most successful) foray through Sweet Home's halls and grounds both fascinating and exhilarating. So much so, in fact, that I can't wait to enter its creepy confines again this time next year.

A few thoughts on Creeping Terror (3DS) now that I've played and finished it

When Sushi Typhoon Games unveiled Creeping Terror in late 2016, I was stoked. A 3DS title inspired by the classic survival-horror game, Clock Tower? Sign me up!

Unfortunately, Creeping Terror didn't hit the North American 3DS eShop until Halloween day last year. For me, that was at least 24 hours too late. I wanted to play it in the lead-up to the holiday, not afterward.

So, I passed on it--with the intention of returning to it in advance of this All Hallows' Eve.

Of course, I completely forgot about Creeping Terror shortly after its release. Thankfully, an acquaintance reminded me of it a couple of weeks ago via an Instagram post.

In rapid succession, I bought, downloaded, and started playing the game. And after a little more than five hours (spread over seven or so days), I finished it, too.

What's my opinion of Creeping Terror given that experience? Here are a few thoughts:

If you've been looking for a "new" Clock Tower, you've got one in Creeping Terror--Clock Tower creator Hifumi Kono had nothing to do with Creeping Terror, but it can sure seem like he did when you're playing it. Not only does this 3DS title and Kono's Super Famicom standout have the same vibe, but the two games share a number of other traits as well. For starters, they look a lot a like--despite the fact that Clock Tower's claustrophobic world is crafted using sprites while Creeping Terror's is made up of polygons. Their gameplay is remarkably similar, too, though the 3DS title's is quite a bit more user-friendly. (Clock Tower is a old-school point-and-click affair, while in Creeping Terror you move the main character with the system's circle pad and interact with your surroundings with its face buttons.) All in all, Creeping Terror feels like a modern Clock Tower in most respects, which is just what I was hoping for when I bought it.

Unfortunately, Creeping Terror's protagonist is just as slow as her Clock Tower counterpart--The developers who brought Creeping Terror to life made a lot of improvements to the Clock Tower "mold" while doing so. That's not to say what they produced is the absolute best side-scrolling survival-horror game to see the light of day. For that to be true, its main character wouldn't move like she lacks leg muscles. The run button helps, but only a bit. (And even it becomes almost useless when an enemy starts chasing you.) Oh, well, it adds to the tension--even if artificially.

Every character besides the protagonist is an idiot--That's par for the course in slasher films, right?  And it's probably par for the course in slasher games, too. (I say probably because I've experienced far fewer of the latter than the former.) Still, Creeping Terror's cast seems especially dumb. They're constantly suggesting you split up or otherwise unnecessarily put yourselves in danger. I'm sure some of this is tied to keeping the gameplay focused on the protagonist, but I'm also sure it could've been handled in a far more elegant fashion.

Creeping Terror doesn't feature much music, but what it does feature is more than fitting--First of all, I've got to say I like that playing this game is a predominantly silent experience. Most of the time, all you hear are ambient noises, like creaking floors or dripping water. (Or the Mario-fireball-esque "ploink" that sounds whenever you turn on or off your phone's flashlight app.) Actual music only enters the picture right as one of Creeping Terror's antagonists are about to arrive on the scene. Believe me when I say the tune's not only fitting, but mighty effective in getting your attention (and in getting you to haul ass to safety).

The localization is disappointingly stilted--No offense to the person or people who handled Creeping Terror's localization. I know this work is tough. That said, the English text in the North American release of the game is pretty stiff. It almost feels like a "first pass"--like with a little massaging, it could've come across as a lot more natural. Don't worry, it's not so bad it'll make you drop the game; it's mostly just awkward.

How many items does a stranded school girl really need?--Creeping Terror's protagonist only has enough room in her jacket--or wherever she stuffs all the things she finds lying about the game's environment--for six items. That doesn't sound like much, but don't worry; it's plenty. After all, you seemingly come across a candy bar (eat it and you restore a bit of stamina--important when you're running from an enemy) or a portable phone charger in every other room. If your playthrough is anything like mine, it won't take you long before you barely even notice their existence. Which is a shame, as it keeps Creeping Terror from being a thoroughly terrifying engagement.

If you like making use of your system's 3D abilities, crank up its depth slider while playing Creeping Terror--I rarely play 3DS titles in 3D. Doing so usually either brings on a migraine, or makes me feel like I'm about to get one. That said, I made an exception for Creeping Terror after giving that aspect a try. Not only did it help immerse me into the game, but it also helped me see the on-screen action. (Most of Creeping Terror's set pieces are eye-strainingly dark. Switching to 3D mode makes them a little less so.)

See also: 'five things that made it really easy for me to put more than 60 hours into The Alliance Alive' and 'five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Sushi Striker'

A few (more) thoughts on Yomawari: Night Alone in honor of #HorrorGameOct

Nippon Ichi's Yomawari: Night Alone and I have a complicated--and convoluted--history.

First, I bought a boxed copy of this Vita game's Japanese release. (See some photos of its case, cartridge, and instruction pamphlet here.) Although I'd been keenly interested in it since it was announced, it took me a good number of months to even put the Yomawari cartridge into my Vita. And after all that, I only played it for a short while before walking away because I just wasn't in the mood for a scary game at the time.

Then, earlier this year, I felt like giving it another try. Rather than boot up my Japanese cart, though, I purchased the North American version from the PlayStation Store. I actually put about two hours into Night Alone that time around, but this playthrough--which I discussed in this post from mid-March--was cut short, too, thanks to a little game called Dragon Quest Builders.

And why didn't I return to Yomawari after Dragon Quest Builders lost its hold on me? I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I guess I turned my attention to something else--perhaps a 3DS title (or two)?

Regardless, between then and now, I've completely ignored Night Alone. I picked it up for a third time a couple of weeks ago, though, because my friend Anne kicked off a horror-focused community game-along--called #HorrorGameOct--that got me thinking about it again.

So, here we are. Attempt number three. The first thing you need to know about my latest Yomawari: Night Alone playthrough is I once again started from scratch. It's been so long since I last tackled the game that I thought returning to my old save file would be a mistake, so I erased it and threw myself into a new one.

Something else you need to know: I'm referring to a walkthrough this time around in the hopes it'll help me finish the game. As much as I hate to admit it, I find it easy to get lost while playing Night Alone thanks to its confusing map (or maybe it would be more accurate to blame its distressingly similar-looking alleyways and streets) and dimly lit locales.



Actually, due in large part to the above-mentioned niggles, I can honestly say I'd probably rather experience Yomawari: Night Alone on a TV than on a Vita. Which is saying a lot, as I almost always prefer playing games on a handheld device to playing them on a traditional console.

Another thing I hate to admit about my current Yomawari playthrough: I'm pretty sure its hiding mechanism failed to ping my radar during previous attempts. Now that I'm aware of and making use of it, though, I'm slapping myself. For starters, it makes it a lot easier to avoid the game's ghoulish baddies. Plus, it's fun to duck behind a sign or jump into some bushes and then "watch" as a nightmarish creature or two passes by via the protagonist's heartbeat and what I can only describe as a sort of heat map. (Less fun: leaving your hiding spot and immediately being killed. Oh, well, you have to get used to dying if you're going to play this title.)

Other than all that, I don't have much new to say about this Vita game. I'm still a fan of its looks, which are one part cute and one part horrific. (You'll know what I mean regarding the latter the second you lay your eyes on one of Night Alone's more hideous enemies.) I can't say the same about its soundtrack, but that's only because the bulk of Yomawari is experienced in near-silence. That's fine by me, though, as it enhances the atmosphere and tension.

As for the gameplay, it impresses, too. I guess some might disagree, as Night Alone's basically a visual novel that allows you to run around a small town and avoid monsters--rather than stare at static screens--while progressing its story, but I'm enjoying it overall despite its issues.

I've heard the game can be finished in just a handful of hours, so I doubt it'll be long before I encounter its end credits--assuming I continue to plug away at it (and keep my eye on the aforementioned walkthrough) this coming week. That's the current plan, so look for me to write and publish a Yomawari: Night Alone review soon.

In the meantime, have any of you played this Vita thriller? If so, please share your impressions of it in the comments section of this post.

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Clock Tower

When it comes to video games, I tend to prefer cute, quirky and whimsical ones to those that are more realistic or serious.

When it comes to movies, though, I tend to prefer those that are tense and scary to almost anything else.

Seriously, I've been a horror-film buff since I rented and watched a VHS tape of the first Nightmare on Elm Street as an early teen.

For whatever reason, my interest in scary movies has rarely translated to me playing scary games. That's not because I think the latter are unappealing, mind you. Actually, I've found a ton of scary games intriguing over the years. Almost every time I start one, however, I quickly become overwhelmed to the point that I have to turn the damn thing off.

A relevant case in point: the original, Super Famicom version of Human Entertainment's Clock Tower.

I've tried to play this point-and-click survival-horror game on multiple occasions. Unfortunately, each one ended rather abruptly--usually around the first time the series' unimaginatively named antagonist, Scissorman, shows his face and grotesquely (some might say comically) massive weapon of choice.

Say what you will about my inability to deal with those scissor-on-girl encounters, but the fact remains that trying to run away from a murderous maniac using a cursor controlled by a directional pad is stressful--or at least it has been for me.

Is that still true with Clock Tower for WonderSwan? (That's the full title of this port, by the way. For whatever reason, a lot of game publishers followed that same naming convention while prepping ports of games for Bandai's oddball handheld.) Yes and no.

Don't get me wrong, this portable version of Clock Tower freaks me out every bit as much as its console counterparts did and continue to do. I've done my best to get over that, though, so I can write the post you're reading right now.

Before I get into my feelings on this WonderSwan cartridge, here are a few tidbits you should know about it:

* This iteration of Clock Tower was made for the original WonderSwan system, so it's in black and white rather than in color like its Super Famicom and PlayStation predecessors.

* A company called Kaga Tech developed it. To be honest, I'd never even heard of Kaga Tech before I started doing research for this write-up. Is or was the company at all related to Kaga Create, which produced titles for everything from the Famicom to the Saturn, or that outfit's parent firm, Kaga Electronics? I believe so, as Naxat (Soft) published this port, and Naxat was the public-facing name of Kaga's gaming devision. Regardless, GameFAQs tells me Kaga Tech at least made a bunch of WonderSwan games as well as a few for the GameBoy, GameBoy Advance and PlayStation during its heyday.

* As far as I can tell, Clock Tower for WonderSwan is a shockingly faithful conversion of the 1995 original. Some concessions were made so the game could run on WonderSwan hardware, of course--such as the aforementioned lack of color, a lower resolution and a minimalist head-up display (more on that last one in a second)--but besides those, everything else seems to be in place.

Don't take that last bullet point to mean this handheld iteration of Human Entertainment's cult classic is near-perfect. It's not.

Although it looks surprisingly great in black and white, and although it controls as well as could be expected of a point-and-click game that requires players to use a d-pad, its protagonist, Jennifer, moves as though she's wading through knee-deep molasses. (To see what I mean, check out this video of Clock Tower for WonderSwan in action. For comparison's sake, here is footage of the Super Famicom version.)

That alone will be a deal-breaker for some, I'm sure. For me, it's mostly been an occasional annoyance. Usually, I'm fine with it; at other times, I daydream about my Clock Tower cart suddenly igniting and melting into a pool of unrecognizable goo.

Regardless, Clock Tower for WonderSwan's slowness is a shame, as every other aspect of the game is captivating. OK, so at first I didn't like that it no longer displays Jennifer's portrait, which in the Super Famicom and PlayStation versions depicts the orphan girl's stamina and stress levels. After a bit of reflection, though, I decided Kaga Tech's (or Naxat's, if you prefer) substitution--three dots along the edge of the screen that appear and disappear depending on how worked up Jennifer is or isn't--is perfectly serviceable.

Other than that and the previously discussed lack of speed? Not much to grouse about, if you ask me. I personally love the moody, low-tech look of this port and I've never really run into any issues with moving Jennifer about via my WonderSwan Color's weird directional pad and A and B buttons. (For the curious: the d-pad controls a cursor, while pressing the A and B buttons allows you to walk or run toward the cursor, examine the environment, pick up or use items and fight off Scissorman.)

I'm also now a big fan of how Clock Tower of WonderSwan progresses. Following a brief intro, you (as Jennifer) are left alone in the titular mansion. Silence surrounds you. The only sounds you hear are those of Jennifer's feet walking along wooden and carpeted floors. That is, until Scissorman makes his first appearance. Then both background music and panic kick in, and the race to find Jennifer's fellow orphans and escape their supposed new home begins.

I've yet to accomplish that last task, and I have a feeling I'll need to refer to a guide to do so, but I'm perfectly OK with that.

In the meantime, I'm getting a kick out of exploring Clock Tower--both the mansion in particular and the game in general--while also trying to avoid or fend off the incessant Scissorman, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

Are any of you Clock Tower fans? If so, have you experienced this WonderSwan release? Regardless, please share your thoughts and opinions on those topics or anything I've said here in the comments section below.

Also, if you'd like to see photos of Clock Tower for WonderSwan's box and cartridge, you can do so via this Flickr photo album of mine.

See also: my 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' post about Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party

NightCry (aka Project Scissors) embraces its jankiness in this just-released trailer

Full disclosure: I haven't paid a whole lot of attention to NightCry, the spiritual successor to Clock Tower that began life with the working title Project Scissors, until now.

Of course, that makes a good amount of sense when you consider I've played just one Clock Tower game to date, and even then I've only played a small fraction of it.

Still, I've always loved the idea of Hifumi Kono's long-running series of survival horror titles thanks in large part to its giant-scissors-wielding antagonist.

Because of that long-ignored admiration, last night I eagerly clicked on a link that led me to the latest NightCry trailer that can be seen below.



After I watched it for the first time, I couldn't help but think, that's it? A few minutes later, though, I caught myself smirking at its unabashed jankiness, which reminds me of all the similarly rough PS1 and PS2 titles I've loved since I was a barely legal game fan.

The thing is, this trailer only mentions a PC release for NightCry--which is concerning, as its original Kickstarter mentioned Android, iOS and Vita versions as well.

Here's hoping the game finds its way onto the Vita in some form or fashion, and not too far down the road at that.

In the meantime, the PC iteration will hit Steam and the Playism site on Mar. 29 carrying a $24.99 price tag. I don't suppose any of you are planning to pick up this spooky looking title on or around that date?

The question is: Will I like Deadly Premonition as much as Frank Cifaldi did?

When 1up.com's Frank Cifaldi reviewed Ignition's Deadly Premonition early last year (read it here), he called the game a mixture of The Last Express, Resident Evil 4, Shenmue and Twin Peaks.

He also said, "a lot of the graphics would look right at home on the Dreamcast." Admittedly, most gamers would consider that to be a negative, but I'm such a big fan of Sega's consoles that it served to further pique my interest in this open-world survival-horror title.

Hoo boy, this is going to be a weird game, isn't it?

Anyway, after reading Cifaldi's review, and a few associated comments he made about the game on facebook and Twitter, I added Deadly Premonition to my "to buy" list--despite the fact that I didn't yet own an Xbox 360.

Well, I now own an Xbox 360, and soon I'll own Deadly Premonition, too, since I ordered a copy of the game late last week for about $15. While I wait for it to arrive, I think I'll waste my time listening to this chiptune take on the title's "whistle tune."

See also: 'If Frank Cifaldi says a game is good, it must be so'

If Frank Cifaldi says a game is good, it must be so

Frank Cifaldi, the man behind the rather fabulous lostlevels.org (which means he's a man well worth listening to), has been trumpeting the recently released Xbox 360 title, Deadly Premonition (formerly known as Rainy Woods), via facebook and twitter.

For instance, a few days ago he tweeted that "Deadly Premonition is the best game IGN ever [gave] a 2 out of 10. It's a low budget David Lynch Shenmue with zombies and fishing and shaving. It just came out and it's $20 and I'm in love."

Later, on facebook, he added that "it looks awful (seriously, PS2 graphics) and is super low budget, but that all adds to the charm. Oh, and the soundtrack is genuinely great. It's like the best Dreamcast game that was never made, and may be one of the last grand Japanese console adventure games."

The promise of fishing and shaving and zombies certainly has me intrigued, as does the following screenshot (taken from the official Deadly Premonition discussion thread over at NeoGAF):

I don't know what's going on here, and I'm not sure I want to.

I don't (yet) have an Xbox 360, Frank, but you can bet I'll pick up a copy of Deadly Premonition as soon as I get one.

Buy: Deadly Premonition