Five things I don't love about Sushi Striker

If you read my last post, you know what I love about Sushi Striker.

As much as I adore this recently released 3DS and Switch game, though, it's not perfect.

In fact, a handful of its components could be called honest-to-goodness turn-offs. They're not so terrible you should pass on the game, of course--I still put more than 51 hours into it, after all--but they're definitely occasional sources of annoyance.

So, which components am I talking about here? Keep reading for all the not-so-gory details.

Sushi Striker does a horrible job of explaining how things work--I don't know if some of this information was "lost in localization" or if it wasn't included in the Japanese version either. Whatever the case may be, Sushi Striker drops the ball--or maybe I should say plate--when it comes to educating players about many of its rules and gameplay quirks. It's nothing a little trial and error, not to mention a few trips to an FAQ, can't fix, but it's a bit frustrating all the same--especially after you become aware of just how much text has been stuffed into this fast-paced puzzler.

It also doesn't make it clear which "Sushi Sprites" you can and can't recruit at any point in time--This is a big deal because not only are these adorable (at least at first) Pokémon-esque creatures one of the highlights of Sushi Striker, but they're also often the key to your success. The reason: they provide you with various abilities that can give you a leg up against your sushi-slinging opponents. To get these cuties to switch sides and join your campaign against the evil "Empire," though, you have to impress them in battle. I like that take on the "gotta catch 'em all" shtick a lot, actually, but I also find one aspect of it irksome. You see, it's not unusual to come across Sushi Sprites early on that you can't recruit until later in the story. Sushi Striker never tells you that, though, so unless you scan the web for this information, you may waste a lot of time trying to woo creatures that aren't, well, woo-able.

You have to put a good number of hours into the game before you unlock local or online battles--Get this: I had to play Sushi Striker for between five and 10 hours (sorry, I can't remember the exact amount of time) before I unlocked the ability to engage in local battles. Then I had to play another five to 10 hours to unlock the ability to engage in online battles. So, basically, it takes as many as 20 hours to open up a pair of modes that should be available right from the start--in my opinion, at least. On a related note: I have to imagine this is the main reason it's so difficult to find strangers to duel while playing the 3DS version of Sushi Striker.

It's nearly impossible to find a stranger to battle on line in the 3DS version--This may be the worst offender of them all. At least you can search the internet for help with the rest of the stumbling blocks mentioned here. There's nothing you can do about the lack of other players looking to take part in online battles. In the 50-plus hours I've spent with Sushi Striker so far, I've successfully completed exactly two such battles--and both were against the same person. Admittedly, they were laggy as hell and as such not a whole lot of fun, but I'd still pop into the "Arena" (where these matches take place) now and then if finding a competitor weren't such a pain.

Some of the star requirements are completely ridiculous--When you first start your way through Sushi Striker, it's easy to be fooled into thinking it's going to be a rather straightforward and superficial adventure. Match plates, stack them, and throw them at your opponent--bada-bing, bada-boom! In reality, there's a lot more to the game than that. For example, you're given stars if you meet certain conditions, like, "use five skills or more and win." Collect enough of them and you're granted access to secret areas that provide you with the best (or at least rarest) Sushi Sprites around. The thing is, some of these requirements are ridiculous. Oh, well, nothing worth having comes easy, as the saying goes.

Five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Nintendo's Sushi Striker

When Nintendo unveiled Sushi Striker this time last year, I was certain it would be my cup of tea.

I mean, it was a puzzler, it featured a selection of (cartoonishly) beefy dudes, and it was being made for the 3DS--if that's not the recipe for my kind of game, I don't know what is.

My interest in Sushi Striker plummeted, however, after I played through the demo that hit the Switch eShop a couple of months ago. Not because I thought it sucked, mind you; in fact, I loved many aspects of it, including its colorful art, spirited soundtrack, and wacky (if sometimes longwinded) cutscenes.

So what didn't I love about it? Its too-frantic gameplay.



Although I've been a fan of puzzle games since I broke in my GameBoy with the freebie classic-to-be Tetris, I've never really enjoyed ones that demand Shazam-esque reflexes. I usually prefer puzzlers that allow players to contemplate their next move at least a little bit.

As such, Sushi Striker and I got off on the wrong foot thanks to the at-first frenzied action at the heart of its demo.

I say "at first" here because while I found the demo's sushi-matching gameplay loop too hectic early on, I actually grew kind of comfortable with it after putting some time into the full game. (Yes, I bought the 3DS version even though the Switch demo disappointed me.)

In fact, I grew so comfortable with it that I played Sushi Striker almost nonstop after it arrived on my doorstep. And not only that, but I played it right through to the end--a journey that took me just over 50 hours.

What prompted this out-of-nowhere turnaround? Here are five reasons:



1. Sushi Striker's cutscenes are surprisingly enjoyable--And that's saying something, as a ton of them have been crammed into this game. In fact, you encounter one after nearly every round. Most are mercifully short, but a bunch of brief interludes could still prove annoying--or worse--if they were pointless or handled poorly, right? Thankfully, I doubt many would describe Sushi Striker's intermissions as anything even close to boring. They're so goofy that all but the most stone-hearted are sure to grin while watching them. (Don't worry, gloomy Gusses, they're skippable.)

2. It's got a wonderfully goofy cast of characters--This is another reason I had a hard time hating Sushi Striker's seemingly endless cutscenes. Every one features at least a single character who gives new meaning to the word colorful. There's the brawny, tan, and tattooed General Kodiak, his pinheaded (but still impressively buff) minions, your hapless rival Kojiro, the "soosh"-loving hipster Rio (he even has the black-framed glasses to prove it), and a slew of others. All of them have personality to spare, so even if they start to get on your nerves a bit, you'll probably do as I did and continue to guiltily enjoy them rather than race ahead to your next skirmish.



3. The sushi-flinging action at its core eventually becomes deliriously instinctual--There's no question this game's sushi battles are frantic at the start. Everything moves so fast that early on you're more likely to find them frustrating than fun. Thankfully, those negative vibes slowly fade into the background after you successfully finish a handful of stages--or at least that was the case for me. By the time you advance to Sushi Striker's second or third area, you'll be wondering how you ever found it so overwhelming. At a certain point, you move your stylus (if you're playing the 3DS version) to match, stack, and toss sushi plates almost on instinct. That's when the game hits its stride and shows just how exhilarating it can be once you get the hang of it.

4. It's pretty deep, too--Not only is Sushi Striker's gameplay delightfully frenetic, it's also surprisingly deep. At first, it's difficult to think beyond matching like-colored plates from the four conveyor-belt lanes in front of you. If you want to beat the best opponents in the game, though, or if you want to access its many hidden areas (most of which reward you with special "Sushi Sprite" companions when conquered), you have to bone up on things like the jubilee meter, the helpful skills provided by the aforementioned Sushi Sprites, the lane-drive gears that let you alter the speed of your conveyor belts, and more. It's a lot to take in, admittedly, and the game doesn't do a great job of explaining most of it to you, but you've got to wrap your head around it if you're to have any hope of reaching Sushi Striker's credit roll.



5. The soundtrack complements all of the sushi-matching perfectly--That's not to say it sounds like something you'd hear in a sushi restaurant. It sure puts you in the mood to sling some plates of Japan's national dish (or maybe not) at the evildoers who get in your way, though. As you might expect, the tunes here are the definition of upbeat. However, they're not as syrupy sweet as most of the songs that support puzzlers these days. This is due, in large part, to the crunchy electric guitar riffs woven into nearly every track. Combined with the plucky piano runs and techno-y blips and blops (technical terms, for the unaware) that pop up nearly as often, they make every Sushi Striker encounter a breathtaking blast.

Have any of you played Sushi Striker? If so, what do you think of it? Share your thoughts in the comments section of this post.

If you own a 3DS, you need to buy and play Pocket Card Jockey right now

And if you don't own a 3DS, you need to get one as soon as possible and then use it to play Pocket Card Jockey.

I know everyone's moved on to the Switch. So have I, for the most part. I also know this game hit the North American, European, and Australian 3DS eShop eons ago--in May 2016, to be exact. (It hit the Japanese 3DS eShop all the way back in July 2013.)

Given all of the above, I understand why Pocket Card Jockey isn't exactly trending on Twitter right now. The thing is, I doubt Pocket Card Jockey ever trended on Twitter, or lit up the sales charts--even when it first came out and garnered a good amount of praise.

So why am I writing about it now, more than two years after it made a splash (or maybe I should say plop, given the lack of hype surrounding its launch)? And why am I using yet another blog post to push people to give the game a try? Because I started playing it again last weekend while visiting my husband's family in Ohio and it reminded me of Pocket Card Jockey's brilliance.

I'd intended to play something else (Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey Redux, for the curious), but when I finally opened my trusty "flame red" 3DS I returned to my long-ignored Pocket Card Jockey save file instead.

At first, I stuck with the game's "training" mode, which basically allows you to play quick rounds of golf solitaire. Within a few hours, though, I cautiously moved over to the main mode. I didn't fare too well early on, to be honest, but a quick look at the "How to Succeed in Pocket Card Jockey Without Really Trying" guide I published a couple of years ago turned things around pretty quickly.

I'm currently 20 hours into my latest obsessive stint with Pocket Card Jockey. The first such stint began in 2013 immediately after the Japanese version's release and lasted for more than 60 hours. The second started in 2016 following the North American version's release and lasted an additional 60-plus hours.

In other words, I've now devoted somewhere north of 140 hours to this $6.99 game over the course of five years.

What's the pull for me? The main attraction (or maybe I should say mane attraction?) is that it's a whole lot of fun. For some reason, I find the combination of solitaire, horse racing, adorable graphics, a top-tier soundtrack, and surprisingly intriguing--and at times shockingly dark--interactions with the game's curious cast of characters to be a winning one.

And then, of course, there's the fact that this Game Freak-developed title is beyond addictive. You know how it's impossible to walk away from Tetris until you've completed about 100 levels? Well, Pocket Card Jockey is imbued with a similar quality. But instead of telling yourself, "just one more round," you're more likely to mutter, "just one more horse"--as it's entirely possible to take a steed from colt or filly to retirement in an hour or so.

Still not convinced to give this hidden gem a try? Maybe my Pocket Card Jockey review will do the trick. Or the fact that I declared it to be my favorite game of 2016 might sway you.

Whatever you need to do to convince yourself to buy Pocket Card Jockey, do it. And do it now. You never know when Nintendo's going to pull the plug on the 3DS eShop, and believe me when I say you don't want to go through life without experiencing this delightfully odd game.

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