Backal notes

  • Reading time:1 mins read

So. Games of the show? In no order, I proclaim thusly:

For those of you out there with copies of Aria of Sorrow (I’m talking to Doug and maybe Justin Freeman here), have you looked at the instruction booklet? It’s prettier than it needs to be! I count that as an extra-duper plus!

But then, I guess any halfway decent instruction booklet is bound to impress me, coming (as I am) off of a nigh-lifelong string of Sega systems…

So Sega’s about to kill off at least five of their ten dev teams. Care to take bets on who? Hint: It’s not gonna’ be AM2 or Sonicteam.

Hitmaker‘s president is going to become the next president of Sega, so they’re still in. Amusement Vision is responsible for all of Sega’s hardware, and is Sega’s primary link to Nintando. Plus, the AV head is in charge of all consumer development at Sega, last I heard. Overworks has Sakura Taisen, so there’s no getting rid of them.

That leaves Wow, Sega Rosso, Smilebit, UGA, and Wavemaster.

We can get rid of Sega Rosso and lose… nothing. Wow is amusing to have around just on account of how charmingly awful they can be. I do wonder about Wavemaster, as they’re responsible for nearly all of the sound and music in nearly everything that Sega does.

What really bums me is the Smilebit and UGA probability. These are probably my two favourite Sega teams — and yet they’re also probably amongst the least profitable, on account of how artsy they are. Most of Smilebit’s stuff has flubbed over the last couple of years, in some cases more inexplicably than in others. UGA’s stuff is just plain anticommercial.

Still, these guys embody — at least for me — the heart of what Sega is.

One of the reasons I was so concerned about the Sammy merger is that Sammy intended to mess around with Sega’s dev teams. Looks like it’s gonna’ happen anyway, though.

I’ve a feeling this mandate came from CRI.

Grr. Fie and demons.

Still resting. Will write up the rest of the E3 stuff for IC later tonight.

Note: Bethesda wants to send me games!

Another note: Dammit, I guess I need to buy a PS2. Given the SNK support, the 3D-AGES stuff, Lament of Innocence, and a swath of other junk I can’t remember offhand, it doesn’t seem like I can avoid it any longer.

Castlevania: Lament of Innocence

  • Reading time:1 mins read

by [name redacted]

I can’t really argue with Leon. This guy is sleek. He controls well. He’s the best brawler in the entire series. More importantly, his game is interesting.

Essentially, Lament of Innocence is the evolution of the classic Konami brawler that the new Turtles game should have been. It’s fast, tight, varied, stylish, and generally involving to play.

( Continue reading at Insert Credit )

Adventure theory

  • Reading time:8 mins read

I love all of these pop-up ads. “Is PORNOGRAPHY saved on your PC? Stop wondering and check now!”

Like I really need help to figure out where my porn is.

Here’s the value of the impression of near-infinite possibilities in a game world or system (“world” being a generalized term from here on out) — they give the impression that there is more to the world at hand than what the player is directly being fed; that something exists outside of whatever specific tasks lie in the player’s path. This creates a sense of place, and of being within that place.

As a result, the player becomes more involved and atached to his or her actions — and those actions become more enjoyable and interesting. The game becomes more personal due to this sense of being; you can say that the game world has a deeper personality — that it is greater than a simple reach of understanding. Just as a character becomes more interesting and “real” as his or her personality becomes more complex. Just as either complexity or near complete mystery make a character more fascinating. Either way, it’s difficult to entirely pigeonhole the character.

Next topic.

Is it just me, or are Nintendo’s major games starting to all feel very similar? I got this when playing Metroid. I realized at some point that it feels like Super Mario World, or Zelda 3. They’re starting to mush together now. Distinct and interesting characters and slightly different mechanics are about all that separate them. Same concept almost exactly; made out of the same elements. Super Bomb and Speed Boost blocks are exactly the same as bricks and Question Mark Blocks and Exclamation Blocks and… it goes on. Castlevania, although it lately tries hard to mimic the Nintendo style of design, still manages to feel a little different. Not necessarily better, but at least it still kind of works on its own rule set. It ends up at about the same place, but through a slightly different combination of elements.

To step on a tangent here: the recent games are obviously inspired by Nintendo’s style as much as they are by the earlier action-based Castlevania. The games are a little less refined and focused, however. There is a wide variety of items which serve no really useful and special purpose (even for the sake of collection, which is itself becoming a tiresome goal). The level design is good, but disorganized. New weapons and abilities are often neglected outside of a few specialized situations. There’s a lot of clutter, put to little use. And yet, they are competent (Igarashi’s more so than those of They Who One Were Kobe). In the case of HoD, even somewhat organic.

I don’t think I’m going to include many more items than will be actually be useful, in my own game.

Next topic.

PC-style adventure games work on more or less the same set of concepts as the console-style adventure, only the setbacks are of a different nature. Less action-oriented problem solving. In the Lucasfilm/Sierra games, puzzles tend to be item- and riddle-based. In the Myst style, they tend to be wholly environmental and logical in nature. There is no real inventory, as in the other styles of game. One’s tools are all in one’s own mind, and in what mental devices one is able to cobble together from the enironment at hand.

The Lucas-type, character-based adventures are a little more clumsy and less pure, in a sense; they rely on physical items as the machines, or often merely as the keys to other machines. They lay everything out for the player, and all one is expected to do is figure out what goes where, and how (logically or not). Bring item x to locatino y in order to open door z. The more interesting mechanics tend to be a little more sophisticated; they involve deciphering the use of certain machines, either within the inventory or the environment.

Occasionally there is the element of deciding what action to take with these machines, upping the player’s involvement, but also the potential frustration if the game isn’t designed well enough to deal with its own system. This is a carry-over from the Infocom and Zork days.

The console-style adventure has more of a tendency to be action-based. Environmental and mechanical logic puzzles are rare, although inventory-based “key” puzzles are not uncommon. Often, however, the “keys” are integrated into the character. Rather than existing as random icons, they become facets of the character or additions to its moveset.

The “doors” which are opened (machines operated) with these keys often — at least in the Nintendo system — are in the obvious default shape of blocks. All manner of blocks! A relatively pure example of this mechanic is Mario. A combination of this concept with an inventory would be Zelda. A halfway point is Metroid — where items are gradually accumulated, but add directly to the character mechanics rather than an inventory.

Biohazard is an incoherent amalgam of the inventory-based Lucasfism-style game with a second mechanism, that links resource management with an awkward battle system. Where this becomes frustrating is in the combination of action and scarcity. The game does not control very well, and is based around surprising the player with difficult-to-manage situations. Due to much earlier errors and indiscretions, it is not at all uncommon to become stuck in a stalmate of sorts where the player has no recourse but failure. The player can become trapped in a very real way, causing all of his or her dedication and patience to come to nothing.

This is poor design. There should always be a mechanism for escape and eventual progress. This is similar to the flaws in a powerup-based shooter like Gradius; one mistake, and it can be next to impossible to recovr. The difference is, in Gradius it is usually possible — if incredibly difficult — to build one’s self back up to where one used to be. In a well-balanced fighting game, a player with little remaining health should still be capable of winning, given enough skill. This isn’t always the case with Biohazard.

What makes a game like Mario or Zelda or Metroid so satisfying, conceptually, is the variety in its callenges, and in how ineffably they blend togeter as pieces of a larger coherent whole. That is, the integral elements of each system all tie into a common scope of reference, making each independent system merely one aspect of interaction with the game world given.

If simple exploration on its own isn’t enough in Metroid, one has a gradually-expanding set of character based “keys” to use, and one knows that related “doors” might potentially be anywhere. If none of these abilities are enough, there is an implicit trust between the player and the game that a later ability will solve the problem. If there are no more abilities to be gotten, then the solution must be something that the player has overlooked.

Where Metroid Fusion failsm ir at least pushes its luck, is by either breaking or stretching that trust which has been built up through three previous games as well as by the inherent makeup of Fusion itself. The player is often trapped through the course of the game, occasionally in a precarious situation, with only one unobvious, difficult-to-detect, means of escape — either to safety or simply to further progress. The game is somewhat redeemed by allowing that escape, but such frustration is trying on the player. After a few situations like this, it becomes obvious that something is just not right with what the game is asking of the player. It’s abusive.

Ultimately, the game can be beaten by anyone with the perseverence, and every item can be obtained — a crucial point of Metroid’s appeal — however the game doesn’t always play fair.

Beyond this, the puzzles have become terribly overt and incongruous. They’re clever, sure, but obviously contrived to fill a formula. The entire body of the game carries this mark of contrivance. Fusion feels like Nintendo By Numbers; pieced together by a design team either rushed, lazy, inexperienced with a game of this sort (and yet observant of its obvious qualities).

The game is clever; not creative. The surrounding elements and the game concept are creative (in terms of the new elements introduced, and the elegant reinvention that they necessitated). This is part of what makes the game so confusing, for me.

And I’m tired. And my copy of Phantasy Star Collection has actually moved from its resting spot in New Orleans, where its’ been for over a week. Now it’s been sitting in Portland since last night. They didn’t bother to bring it over today, for whatever reason. Hm.

Harmony of Dissonance

  • Reading time:1 mins read

by [name redacted]

Harmony of Dissonance is director Koji Igarashi’s attempt to rescue the Castlevania series by wresting control back from the supervision of Konami’s Kobe studios. Whereas KCEK’s Circle of the Moon was set pretty much outside established continuity, this new game is Castlevania in function as well as in form. Though maybe no better or worse a videogame its own right, Harmony is in nearly every respect a vastly superior Castlevania.

( Continue reading at Insert Credit )

Watch for falling spoilers (not too many, and nothing huge)

  • Reading time:6 mins read

Wow. Only thing is… Harmony of Dissonance is damned short. It was a fortuitous decision, in this light, for Igarashi to have jammed so many secrets into the game. I accidentally ended up finishing the game, getting what I think must be a luke-bad ending, in less than ten hours, with nearly 200% map completion, all but two items for Juste’s room (one of which I’ve since found), somehow without two of the magic books (again, one of which I’ve since got — it’s the one I put off getting for a while, since it was kind of stressful to race the marble (you’ll… see what I mean)), and without two of the relics (one of which I believe must be Dracula’s eye).

Circle of the Moon, to mention, I’m probably well over fifty hours into — and I’m still missing the Black Dog card. (It’s in the battle arena.) I beat the game it at around thirty hours or so (though I took my tubular time, as I tend to), but since then I’ve still been wandering around, collecting things, and generally powering Nathan up far more than necessary. In comparison to this nigh-pointless time vacuum, HoD is amazingly self-contained.

There are only two isolated map squares which I can’t seem to access, one in each of the two castles. One of them’s behind a big lump of rock (which isn’t there in the other castle), and the other one is in the marble-racing room. It’s just that there doesn’t appear to be any obvious entrance in the A castle.

I’m guessing if I’ve got all of Dracula’s parts and have the maps completely filled-in I’ll get a better ending than the one I received — not that it was really too bad, mind. And during the ending credits I was treated to one of the two high-res bits of music in the game. Might as well not spoil which one, but it was what I thought one of the better themes anyway. If audio was working properly on Edgar here, I’d probably have dubbed the tune off a while ago for referencing in my post the other day.

I’ve toyed around a bit with Maxim, and it seems like his game has been completely reformulated from Juste’s. While playing through the first time I noticed that HoD had a very classic, almost action-oriented layout to its stage design. Although there was a lot of wandering, whenever I needed to go somewhere it tended to be along a pretty straight route and usually through some new territory. What happens in Maxim’s game is that nearly all of the adventure elements have been removed. You can save, but that’s about it. Otherwise, it’s more or less become a classic Castlevania game. What’ve been mixed up are the paths available to you and the order in which you play through the castle. So far (though I’ve barely played into Maxim’s game at all) it looks like you’re constrained to a somewhat linear path.

Also, Maxim plays like a ninja. That’s about the best description I can give. He’s got Juste’s dashes, but on top of that his running, jumping, and attacking speeds are all about fifty percent greater. He’s got a triple-jump, a slide kick, and a normal ducking kick from the outset, and his normal attack is a quick sword swipe. He only has one special weapon, which is a strange and elaborate cross-like contraption. Maxim is just a speedy, strong character. His game ends up playing something like a cross between Strider and Ninja Gaiden (though without the wall-crawling). Considering that Ninja Gaiden and classic Castlevania play almost exactly the same, this seems appropriate.

The boss mode is actually fairly interesting, and the widely-reported secret contained therein, really is firing up my jones for a GBA compilation or remake of the original NES trilogy. (I mean, it’s perfect down to the sound effects. Even the irreplacable “whoop!” sample.)

Muh. So. There that is. I guess it’s better to have a condensed hunk of gaming goodness than a sprawling fifty-hour affair stuffed with needless filler and busywork. (God, why are so many games full of tedious chores these days, just in order to increase playtime? Who started this trend? Wasting my time is not the key to my heart, people. Let me finish the fool game already, so I can move onto something else!) There was barely a moment in HoD which felt superfluous, with the exception of some nasty backtracking in the last third or so. Once the teleporters are all located this isn’t as much of a problem, but — oy. And y’know, people always make what seems to me to be way too big of a deal about backtracking in adventure games. So far as I’m concerned, it’s all part of the exploration aspect in a game like Metroid or Zelda.

But remember what I said about the castle’s layout in this game? There are two sides to everything. The first time through, it’s great and really focused-feeling. The problem is, whenever you want to go back to someplace, you usually have to go far out of your way to return. Much of the time I just put off some smaller tasks which I knew I could finish in another part of the castle because I didn’t want to put in the effort to slog all the way back there through ten minutes of rooms and corridors. The game’s pretty good at directing you back to each part of the castle in turn, though. So generally you don’t have to do a ton of backtracking if you’re patient enough to wait until you’re back in the neighborhood. But the thing is, there are a ton of shortcuts that are present from the beginning but which are locked until very late in the game. The “skull doors”, for instance, exist mostly to keep the player from being able to revisit earlier sections of the castle without putting a ton of effort into winding his way back through his own footsteps. I don’t see why this is in many cases, except perhaps to keep the player from being distracted from the tasks at hand. This is fine in retrospect, but at the time it was kind of frustrating.

And yet this kind of a limitation has its interesting effects. Indeed, it kept me from bothering to revisit the start of the game until about eight or nine hours in. And there’s something… well not exactly poignant, but at least interesting, about finding one’s self preparing for the end by going back to where one began. Everything just went full circle, in a sense.

And come to think of it, isn’t this kind of the point of the series?

And yes, it’s even got the Konami code.

  • Reading time:9 mins read

Ken Burns’ Civil War series is showing on PBS this week, two episodes every night. I watched another chapter a few moments ago, but I just don’t have the patience to stick around for the second one. It’s interesting stuff, but this miniseries has perhaps the most soporific presentation I’ve ever seen. Must escape before I lapse into a coma. Sorry, Grant.

Onto other things.

Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance has a very nice tone to it. It’s… a little harder to immediately get into and enjoy than was Circle of the Moon. It’s not as instantly agreeable, and it feels kind of… cold. But now that I’ve played a little bit, it’s opened up a lot and it’s become clear how much more well-made this game is in general than KCEK’s last effort. The control is much tighter. The level design is more interesting. And the entire thing is much more Castlevania-ey than CotM ever managed to be. It’s got that same slightly… uneasy tone that most of the main chapters have had, and which I’ve not felt for quite a while. All of the edges of the screen are crammed full of minute and curious gothic detail.

The game also has a constant sense of forward motion that was lacking in CotM. It feels like I’m going somewhere when I’m playing — like there’s a goal — rather than like I’m just puttering around randomly in an adventure game world. CotM was fun, but that was about it. A fun, Metroid-style platformer with Castlevania trimmings. HoD feels like Castlevania. You know how that map popped up between levels in the first game? You know how in level three you could see the final tower in the background as a goal? It always felt like you were making progress. And that sensation is back.

What’s more, and what is interesting — something I’ve not felt for a very long time with this series is that… old movie sensation. The first few games in the series were spattered with spoke holes in all of the title screens and menus, as if you were playing through a silent horror movie. And the games had an aesthetic and an atmosphere to match. HoD seems to bring this general feeling back. It’s not just going through the motions, it’s doing its best to do things right. Igarashi seems to really understand the heart of the series, in a way that KCEK just can’t handle.

As for the music: you’ve heard how awful it’s supposed to be. This is both entirely true and false.

To be sure, compared to what KCEK achieved with CotM just a year ago, the sound quality is a obviously lacking. A few months ago I spent an hour, one night, simply lying in bed and listening to the Catacombs theme from Circle of the Moon in a pair of headphones. Much of the music in CotM was borrowed and remixed from other games (mostly Bloodlines and Dracula’s Curse), but the music quality was higher than anything I’d heard on a handheld system before. And indeed, it was some of the best Castlevania music I’d ever heard. What’s more, the original compositions were absolutely perfect and memorable additions to the growing roster of Castlevania anthems.

This comparison is, I think, the greatest factor which initially makes the music in Hod so very startling, and for a while even a little grating. Although it might be interesting on its own right, the music is not of the same almost unreasonably high standard set both by CotM and by Castlevania in general. This just doesn’t sound like what you inevitably going to expect. Beyond its mere quality, the composition is also a bit odd.

That said, it’s not as bad as people say, and it has its own odd personality. Try to picture Darkstalkers music played on an NES. Now mix in the occasional motive from Simon’s Quest, and top it off with a few tunes from the original Gameboy games. That’s the HoD score, in a nutshell. It sounds like NES music, basically. But like Castlevania music. Only… a more recent kind of Castlevania music, played on an NES. It’s atmospheric and sprawling. As opposed to NES Castlevania music, which is more melodic and clever. Got it?

The thing is, the music here manages to set its own sort of retro tone. If you’ve played the NES games and the original Gameboy trilogy, I think it’s a lot easier to appreciate what’s been done. Try to take the music as a low-fi experiment, rather than a result of ROM budgeting. On its own level, especially in contrast to the high-budget presentation of every other aspect of the game, the music has its own interesting tone going on. If anything, I think it helps just a bit in adding to the “grainy” emotional texture of the game that I was getting at before. If there’s anything that Castlevania needs in order to retain its unsettling ambiance, it’s a certain offputting creakyness — and the music in HoD seems to do a very good job in maintaining this sensation.

Controversial? Certainly. But I think the music succeeds in its own strange way. Perhaps I’m being too forgiving, but I dig.

All of the other sound effects are great, though (further adding to the perplexing aural quality of the game). Something that strikes me: there’s a strange, startled “nAnI?!” whenever Juste is poisoned or cursed. I’m not sure if this is supposed to be Juste’s own squeak — as it doesn’t sound like the same voice who does all of the item crash screaming and the hopping grunts and so forth — or if it’s intended to come out of the monsters which are whapping him. I suppose the latter wouldn’t make much sense, so I suppose it’s kind of amusing to see a Belmont (especially as arrogant a one as Juste) lose his cool when things don’t go as he plans.

The control, again, is so much better and tighter and more… full-seeming than in CotM. Don’t get me wrong; I loved how Nathan felt in that game. But the control was generally pretty loose, and while Nathan always did exactly what he was told to, he didn’t seem to have much… substance to him. The entire game had that weird sort of a sensation for me, so it’s not just the control. But there was no heft. What flexibility he had felt both kind of messy and strangely contrived. Why did he suddenly get certain abilities when he did, for instance? Why was being able to push crates a special power? What the heck is that “rocket jump” special move? Where does it come from? Whenever I learned a new move with him, it felt more like it had merely been arbitrarily unlocked for me so as to allow me to progress.

Juste, in contrast, starts off feeling much more… rigid than Nathan. His dash ability is indescribably helpful, and it’s neat that he’s able to swing his whip around as in Super Castlevania IV. But he’s less of a jumping bean, he doesn’t start with a slide move, he initially can’t automatically twirl his whip as Nathan could. He’s certainly animated a hell of a lot better than Nathan, and his sprite is larger and more visible — but he’s… well, he feels more like a Belmont than a random platforming character with a whip. Just as floaty ol’ Nathan was great for soaring aimlessly around the open structures in his game, Juste has a much more satisfying kind of focus to him. What he loses in out-and-out freedom he gains in precision and, frankly, respectability.

Nothing seems to be wasted on Juste, and nothing seems to be arbitrary. His starting abilities make sense, and (at least so far) every time I’ve gotten a new one it’s been a pretty logical (and balanced) addition. Plus, if you’re missing a particular move from nearly any other Castlevania game — it’s apparently in here somewhere. Now that I’ve got a slide move and can automatically spin my whip around as Nathan did (although I could manually approximate this effect before), I feel like I’ve earned the abilities and like they’re natural extensions to what I started off with. They’re not just there.

I also like how carefully Igarashi has been to make clear the time period in which the game takes place, and exactly who the characters are in relation to the universe we know so far — from the box to the instructions to the game itself, there’s no mystery at all. It’s stated right out that fifty years have passed since Simon’s Quest and that Juste is Simon Belmont’s grandson. It says what he’s doing, what the relation of this task is to the previous game (chronologically speaking), and how uncommonly gifted he is even for a Belmont. And in the (commendably well-made) instructions, it quickly mentions that his magical abilities come from the Fernandez (Belnades) family.

I’m only about two hours in, but — as you’ve likely gathered — my impression is good so far. The game feels — again — more like a true Castlevania game than any I’ve played in a while. And there are elements I’ve seen from a bunch of other Castlevanias, here. The refereces are particularly heavy to the first two Gameboy games, to the NES trilogy, to the Dracula X series (which makes sense, seeing as how HoD can sort of be considered the third game in that subseries), to Bloodlines, even to CotM and Super Castlevania IV. And heck, the N64 games are even referenced slightly (what with the Fernandez name).

I think a few more things probably could have been done with the game, but in general I’m impressed up to this point. And I’m more confident than ever that Igarashi is the guy who should be heading this series; no one else at Konami seems to really get it the way he does. And even if the game does have its flaws, it feels real. It’s not hard to tell how much effort went into the game, and how devoted the man is both to the legacy of the series and to its fans. This isn’t something you get a whole lot in any form of art or entertainment, seemingly least of all videogames and film. And it’s exactly what was missing from Circle of the Moon. He’s got my trust for the future.

A short note: Is Ayami Kojima (Igarashi’s chosen artist since Symphony of the Night) of any relation to Hideo? They both work at Konami, after all.

Hmm…

Konami

  • Reading time:3 mins read

Okay. I think I’m starting to figure Konami out.

  • KCET (Tokyo) seems to be the division where Nagoshi is; the “true” Castlevania games are developed here. This is also where Silent Hill apparently calls home. Contra, Suikoden, Gradius, Tokemeki Memorial, Dance Dance Revolution, to boot. KCET is host to Konami’s special soccer-devoted team, “Major A“.
  • KCEK (Kobe) developed the N64 Castlevania games and Circle of the Moon (aha! I was wondering why the character art looked so similar to the N64 games! And why the character once again wasn’t a Belmont, and nothing fit into the storyline properly — just as in the N64 games).
  • KCEO/Konami OSA (Osaka)… This is the original Konami office, founded in 1969. It seems mostly soccer games come out of here now, but I’m assuming this is where most Konami games were developed until the mid-90s sometime. This appears to be the group currently responsible for the Track & Field and Blades of Steel series.
  • KCKJ/Konami JPN (Tokyo again) is split into two teams, across two separate offices in Toyko: KCEJ East and KCEJ West. East is behind Reiselied and 7 Blades, plus a lot of dating sims. West is where Hideo Kojima is holed up, and thereby the home of Metal Gear and ZOE.
  • KCEN (Nagoya) — A few licensed games for the Gameboy Color and golf games for the GBA, plus a version of Vandal Hearts for the Saturn. KCEN are also behind Castlevania Legends for the original Gameboy, and they apparently did the Saturn port of Nocturne in the Moonlight. That seems like about it, though. Fishing and horse racing games seem to be their real specialties.
  • KCES (Shinjuku) — They seem to do even less than the Nagoya branch. Can’t find much information on them.
  • Konami STUDIO was formed in August of 2000, out of two former divisions: KCE Sapporo and KCE Yokohama. I don’t know what either originally did.
  • KCEH/Konami Hawaii (Honolulu) appear to behind all of the ESPN-licensed sports games that Konami used to put out before Sega snatched up the license. Also, they seem to be behind all of Konami’s domestic PC releases — such as the Castlevania/Contra pack from a couple of weeks ago — and a couple games for the GBA such as the new version of Motorcross Maniacs and a pretty highly-rated “classic Konami” pack containing Yie Ar Kung Fu, Rush ‘N Attack, Gyruss, and so on.

Konami also has a Shanghai-based division, who seems not to do much.

KCEK, KCET, and KCEJ seem to be the three most important divisions. KCET and KCEJ officially like to be called Konami TYO and Konami JPN now, for whatever reason — but I think their original names are less confusing.

There’s a long investigation of the Castlevania series which I dumped onto Lan and Shepard around a month ago. I might dig for that in a bit.

Just so I’ve it written down somewhere —

  • Reading time:1 mins read

Hey, the battle arena really is pretty swell for upping Nathan’s levels in Circle of the Moon.

It seems pretty odd that such a large portrait is devoted to him, and that his name is listed in so many obvious places, if he’s the only playable character in the game. I mean, why waste the space if there’s not going to be much mistaking who your character is?

Chiplash

  • Reading time:1 mins read

Circle of the Moon contains perhaps the best remix of “Vampire Killer” I’ve heard anywhere outside of the original Castlevania. I finally realized also why the music at large reminds me so much of Bloodlines: the tune heard the most throughout the game is taken directly from that game. That — would explain some things.

The new main theme to CotM, however — “Catacombs”, I believe, is the title — is a perfect and entirely worthy addition to the trusty archive of classic Castlevania anthems. It goes along very well alongside the likes of “Vampire Killer”, “Bloody Tears”, “Beginning”, and “Theme of Simon”.

It seems years since I’ve heard good chip music. New music, anyway. This is one respect in which games have really gotten worse over the years. Some days, I like to wish the medium had never switched to optical storage. It’s all just gone downhill from there…

Pink Circle

  • Reading time:2 mins read

I now have a copy of Castlevania: Circle of the Moon for my HELLO KITTY PINK Gameboy Advance. This is the first real, legity-type GBA game I’ve gotten, and it’s… fabulous. I mean, it doesn’t do anything new; it doesn’t even particularly try. But it’s extremely solid.

If anything, it reminds me a lot of Bloodlines. Bloodlines was pretty, and very well-made, but it didn’t really do anything particularly new; it was just a good game that followed the standard Castlevania formula more or less precisely. Circle of the Moon is exactly the same idea — only it’s based on the modern, elegant, explorative, Igarashi-influenced image of Castlevania rather than the “classic”, action-based version of the game. So, it’s a terrific game; one of the best in the series. A great showcase for the system. But it’s nothing intrinsically special; just enjoyable and well-made and entirely appropriate.

That’s the only bad thing I can say about it: All it is, is a terrific game. No more. It doesn’t even try; all the effort was in making the game solid, playable, and entertaining. Not that there’s really anything wrong with that. If only more games had such a fault. Harmony of Dissonance, however — that looks to be something more. So I’m looking forward to it.

I’m really getting to like my GBA a lot, now. I’ve been going over eBay, looking for copies of the remaining original Gameboy games which I had, and were stolen long ago. Most of them, aside from Metroid II, I’ve been able to track down at no more than around five dollars (plus shipping). A couple are so obscure and strange that I’ll probably not find them anytime soon. But now that I’ve a system on which to play them again, it’d be nice for my collection to be restored to as it used to be.

Castlevania

  • Reading time:2 mins read

I just now, after over a decade, finished Castlevania 1 (only by playing the japanese version on the easy setting and saving a lot)… the ending credits say the music is by — “Johnny Bannana,” I believe was the name. Also, they call Simon “Simon Belmondo.” There are mounds of credits such as “Plot: Brahm Stoker” and “Frankenstein: Boris Karloff”… hm.

I finally downloaded an msx emulator and frontend, in order to play Vampire Killer. The graphics in it blow the nes version away, but it’s impossible to play. It makes the original US ver of Castlevania seem like a pushover…

You can see sorta’ see how VK is a game-in-development… how, when they remade it for the nes, they looked closely at its structure and remixed the elements in a more palatable form. The rounds are very similar in structure and background, identical in music (though the psx music is better), almost identical in character and monster sprites, but in the nes version there’s scrolling, the enemies are placed sanely (inasmuch as they don’t keep coming in an unending stream, but, rather, are put in specific places), you don’t have to look around for keys and whip walls in hidden places to finish levels, and you get to really use items.

I think Simon’s Quest was a way of trying to put some of the original elements back into Castlevania which they thankfully removed for the nes conversion — such as the idea of an inventory; buying items and searching for others; having a nonlinear(ish) round structure. The shield from CVII is even in there… though nobody appears to shoot at you, so its usefulness is questionable. Actually, there’re two different shield types.

Playing that game from hell for about half an hour gives me a much greater appriciation for what it later spawned, and helps me to understand the series better, as well — just to see kind of the thought processes behind the first game, before major editing, and from where some ideas from the second probably came. Sort of like listening to Purest Feeling, the major difference being PF was a lot better than PHM in a number of aspects.

The Darkness Between the Pixels

  • Reading time:2 mins read

I think what’s so attractive about old nes games is, it’s just popped out to me, how dark they all feel — just a little surreal and a little mysterious. Blaster Master and Simon’s Quest and Zelda and Metroid — there’s so much which can’t be seen — you don’t know what anything is, and have to fill it in for yourself. All of the creatures in Blaster Master are a flat gray. The colors in Zelda are completely two-dimentional blobs; it has indistinct sound effects and rocks which look like turtles. Metroid is all black and empty, as is Blaster Master — and, actually, lots of Zelda and Simon’s Quest, really. They feel. . .unexplored. There could be anything in any niche. It’s like a dream. . .

With today’s games, you see everything and you know where and what everything is. The jellyfish in Blaster Master Look like the Metroids. Goonies II — well, that’s a strange one. It sort of overproves the point.

Life Force and Gradius. . .

The games which were hardest to play, I think, were the darkest ones — Gradius and Metroid and Castlevania 1; all great, but all kind of depressing. The games of today are… Microsoft/Apple spawn. They don’t feel real because they’re made to feel too real. Old NES games are like a dark fantasy — they feel so unreal that the mind makes them more real and alive than anything today could strive to be. And they’re mostly smaller than this text. . .