Five things that made it really easy for me to put more than 60 hours into The Alliance Alive

If you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr, you may have seen me trumpet the fact that I finished The Alliance Alive a short time ago--after putting more than 60 hours into it.

Actually, you may have seen me celebrate the same accomplishment in one of my most recent posts here, too.

Regardless, you know now. And, really, as thrilled as I am that I reached The Alliance Alive's credit roll and devoted so many hours to it along the way, I'm even more thrilled that I enjoyed pretty much every one of the nearly 4,000 minutes I spent with this portable RPG.

Why? Here are the first five reasons that came to mind:

Awakening "battle arts" is completely addictive--If you're not quite up to speed on The Alliance Alive's inner workings, "battle arts" are special attacks or moves that are tied to specific classes of weapons. If you give one of your characters a spear, for example, one of her battle arts may be "Charge," which causes her to race toward and through an enemy. While using that art, you might "awaken" another one, like "Spear Fishing" or "Triple Strike." The key word here is might. There's seemingly no rhyme or reason for when a character will learn a new battle art. You may go a number of encounters without awakening even one, or you may awaken three or four in a single tussle. I know some players find the randomness annoying, but I love it. You never know when a new--and likely more fabulous--move is going to fall into your lap.

The soundtrack is sublime--And not only that, but it's surprisingly varied. Some tracks, like "Rainy World" and "Sealed Museum," are fairly ambient in nature, while others, like "Clockwork City Gearlock" and "Fiery World," pulsate and soar thanks to plucky piano bits and pleasantly synth-y strings. (My favorite of them all is "Flight," which pops up later in the game but is well worth the wait.) The brilliance of The Alliance Alive soundtrack came as no surprise to me, by the way, as I knew going in that Masashi Hamauzu had composed the bulk of it. Some of his previous credits: Chocobo no Fushigi na Dungeon for the original PlayStation, Final Fantasy X for the PS2, and this title's precursor, The Legend of Legacy. (Psst! You can listen to The Alliance Alive's entire soundtrack here.)

The "water devil dens" provide the game with just the right amount of toughness and creepiness--Truth be told, a lot of The Alliance Alive's content could be called "standard fare." That's not a complaint or a critique; it's a simple statement of fact. What am I talking about here? The locations you explore while wandering the game's expansive map are a good example, as are the beasts you battle along the way. I wouldn't make the same claim about its "water devil dens," though. These optional dungeons dot the landscape and can be accessed via malevolent-looking whirlpools. As you might expect based on their name, they're teeming with some of the nastiest baddies in the whole game. The best thing about these "dens," in my opinion: they give The Alliance Alive a sense of otherworldly tension that helps it break free from the "typical JRPG" mold the game's developers seemingly used to create a good chunk of the rest of this sprawling adventure. (The next best thing about them: the creepy lines enemies spout before battles begin.)

Once it finally clicked, The Alliance Alive's guild system proved to be surprisingly cool (not to mention helpful)--Another aspect of The Alliance Alive that helps it steer clear of "cookie cutter" territory are the guild towers that stick out from the surrounding environment like giant, Victorian weather vanes. Early on, it's hard to make heads or tails of these structures and their inhabitants. The game attempts to explain things, but none of it clicked with me until I was a good 20 or so hours into my playthrough. Which is a shame, because once you "get" The Alliance Alive's guild system, you realize what a cool game changer it is. The gist: if you're within a certain range of a guild tower, it may support you in battle. One type stuns all enemies for a turn. Another wallops them with a massive attack. Yet another weakens their defenses. That's awesome in and of itself, of course, but it becomes even more so after you build a network of towers and you come within range of a number of them at the same time. And that's just scratching the surface of the benefits these spires offer players who devote time and energy to them. (To learn more, check out this siliconera.com article.)

It's got a character who fights enemies while sitting inside a duck-shaped "power suit"--And not only that, but she eventually fits it with a floaty so it can cross pools of lava. This character, named Tiggy, isn't the only appealing one in The Alliance Alive, by the way. A few others include a "daemon" lady with fox-like ears and tail, a "beastfolk" that looks to be a cross between a lizard and an antelope, a loud-mouthed penguin, and a youthful, hard-nosed businessman (businessboy?) who uses a wheelchair and wears a pot with a teddy bear strapped to it on his head. That's a long way of saying this game has a colorful cast of characters. Sadly, you can't add that last one--the one with the bear stuck to his noggin--to your party, but believe me when I say you're sure to like a lot of the beings that populate The Alliance Alive despite that unfortunate oversight.

That's not the extent of what I found appealing about The Alliance Alive during the 60-plus hours I devoted to it, mind you. I also loved how its non-player characters change what they say to you based on who's currently serving as your main party member, for example. And I similarly enjoyed being allowed to speed up battles with the press of a button.

Is there any room for improvement after all of the above has been taken into consideration? Definitely. As colorful as its cast of characters is, there's no question it could be even more diverse. (Every human in The Alliance Alive seems to be white, straight, and cisgender.) And I would've killed to be able to add some of its more interesting NPCs, like the aforementioned boy with the stuffed animal attached to his skull, the Guild Girls (see above), and Princess Yukiha to my party, even if only after the end credits rolled.

Don't let those few shortcomings keep you from starting through The Alliance Alive yourself. I found it to be an almost shockingly special title, all things considered, and as such I can't recommend it strongly enough to anyone who still has a 3DS and who typically enjoys role-playing games.

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

I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely thrilled we're swimming in actual SaGa as well as SaGa-inspired games at the moment

I've been keenly interested in Square Enix's SaGa series of bizarro RPGs for a long time now.

Makai Toushi SaGa, a GameBoy title that was rebranded The Final Fantasy Legend before it crossed the pond, introduced me to its wonders all the way back in 1990, but only barely.

I didn't fall head over heels in love with the series until I first laid eyes on Romancing SaGa for the Super Famicom.

That's not to say I've spent a lot of time with that 1992 release. Oh, I've tried, but even with my limited--very limited--understanding of Japanese, all of the text Romancing SaGa throws at you is daunting, to say the least.

Still, Romancing SaGa turned me on to just how beautifully strange an RPG can be in the right hands (especially if those hands belong to the one and only Akitoshi Kawazu)--a point that was driven home during my first playthrough of a game that is now one of my all-time favorites, SaGa Frontier.

Sadly, the series has languished in the wake of that late-1990s offering. Although eight SaGa titles were published (in Japan, at least) between 1989 and 2000, only five have come out in the 18 years since--one of which was a remake of an older effort and two of which depressingly avoided consoles.

Amazingly, other developers have stepped into the void in recent years to provide the world with their own SaGa-esque role-players. The Legend of Legacy was the first of these quirky RPGs to hit the market (back in 2015), and while it didn't quite live up to its initial hype, it proved to be an enjoyable enough experience despite its drawbacks.

That game's just-released (outside of Japan) spiritual successor, The Alliance Alive, is an even better "SaGa-like," in my opinion. It's far less experimental, and a lot more straightforward, than The Legend of Legacy, but both of those qualities work in its favor and help it feel like the best SaGa game not made by the aforementioned Kawazu.

You should expect to see more posts about The Alliance Alive here in the coming days and weeks, by the way. I'm so in love with the game after putting more than 60 hours into it that I've got to gush about it a bit.

Speaking of SaGa-ish games I've got to gush about, or that I've got a feeling I'm going to gush about shortly after I start playing them, Octopath Traveler for the Switch is due out in just under two months. I couldn't be more excited about it, to be honest--especially since it looks to be even more akin to the SaGa games of old than The Alliance of Alive.

Will I be gushing about the last "real" SaGa title, SaGa: Scarlet Grace, sooner rather than later, too? It sure seems like it. No less than Kawazu himself recently revealed on Twitter that an English localization of the game is being worked on as we speak.

And then, of course, there's the Romancing SaGa 3 remake that was announced early last year for mobile and Vita. It's also being prepped for a Western release--although no one outside Square Enix seems to know when that will happen (or if it'll hit systems like the PS4, Switch, and Xbox One as well).

Regardless, it's now abundantly clear that the SaGa, er, saga is far from over. I don't know about you, but that thrills me to no end. You can keep your paint-by-numbers RPGs; I'll take weirdo releases like The Alliance Alive, Octopath Traveler, and SaGa: Scarlet Grace over them any day of the week.

How many of you feel the same way?

The walls of our home won't be complete until one of them sports a pixelated portrait of Ellen Ripley from Konami's Aliens arcade game

I've had a bit of a "thing" for the Alien and Aliens films since I watched them for the first time as a teenager.

You'd think that would mean I've long had a similar thing for games inspired by those flicks, but it doesn't.

There have been a few exceptions, of course. Sega's Alien Syndrome and Alien Storm are two examples. Xenophobe is another.

None of the above compete with Konami's Aliens quarter-muncher from 1990, however. OK, so it takes some liberties with the source material. It's such a blast to play, though, that I don't have any problems overlooking those "creative differences."

It's also gorgeous, of course, with wonderfully detailed backdrops and sprites that evoke the 1986 movie that spawned it.

Apparently Atlanta-based artist Ashley Anderson agrees with that last tidbit. After all, he recently referenced the above-mentioned Aliens arcade game in the acrylic painting that can be seen below.

Before you go and think this is just some paint-by-numbers copycat, consider what Anderson said about it on Instagram:

"I limited my palette this time to traditional portrait colors, prussian blue (to mix with umber to make chromatic blacks), titanium white (for opacity), and zinc white (for warmth and translucence)."

As much as I like this piece, I like this next one, which Anderson calls "Ellen (Withering Heights)," even more.

For the curious: Anderson made "Ellen (Withering Heights)" using color pencil on toned paper.

I'm also quite fond of the similar "Sigourney Weaver," below, from 2010:

Anderson produced it using graphite on paper.

As for what prompted him to go down this particular path eight or so years ago, the artist shared the following explanation on Flickr:

"In keeping with my interest in pixellation's relationship with painting and its mechanics [and] traditions, I have begun collecting images of recognizable personalities as they are depicted in games and drawing them as one might create a portrait drawing from a photograph or a live sitter."

Want to see more of Anderson's pixelated depictions of the Aliens protagonist? Check out "Ellen (Ms X #1)" and "Ellen as April as Ellen."

Consider scouring his Instagram and Flickr photostreams, too. Both are filled with fascinating, game-inspired works of art.

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