Eastern Mind

Standard Reception 09/10: These are a few of my favorite things

I’ve had a few disappointments of late with videogames. Although I keep my usual routine regarding the daily acquisition of the latest videogame news which may concern me, I have found little disposition to engage in the usual blogging that has characterized this and my other pages. This marks the end of a cycle of my passion for videogames; but this sudden lack of interest has plagued me before. I confess as much before the reader: control pads have not been plentiful in my hands for the last few months. I have, notwithstanding, kept a few games aside from different orders made back in the heyday of Eastern Mind which, I believe, were sufficient to put together another one of these entries - no doubt the most demanding posts of all recurrent features included here.

I hope that going through some of these games and their appealing boxes, trying hard to remind myself of something mildly interest to write about them, will help recover my lost fascination.

I tend to be rather harsh with the Castlevania series. While I do hold a few sane arguments against the evolution of the series, I also readily admit that it is among the few surviving classics from the golden age of Japanese game design back when the pioneering moulds were being cast. Few other series are so well aware of their classicism in fact, something which no doubt derives from the lessons well learned from the failed attempts to modernize the saga. Its followers frequently disagree as to which is the superior achievement: the original PCE Duo Rondo of Blood episode, recently remade and re-released for the PSP; or the inaugural 32-Bit title Symphony of the Night whose PSOne Books edition I present here - a line of inexpensive Japan-only re-editions from the latter PS days.

When I had the pleasure to play this game, I was at an age - perhaps a perfect age - when I preserved my old innocent convictions regarding how videogames should be. Being a lengthy action adventure with hours of exploration and a few RPG elements, SOTN was one of the games that helped me understand the hardware leap in simpler terms: while the 3D game explosion often seemed like something from a different dimension, this my favorite episode of the Castlevania series allowed me to understand what real changes were taking place, by using a simpler and almost pedagogic approach to design. It also bridged a gap between the genre of games I played the most on the Super Nintendo and the absence of an official successor to the system: in short, it felt like playing a 16-Bit game and something boldly new at the same time.

Now a rare and expensive treat, the European version of Shinning Force III was among the last true obligatory purchases - or so it was hailed by the press back then - for the few surviving Sega Saturn owners, let alone the devout followers of the series. However, players from western territories were only offered one out of three episodes made available in Japan that sadly never got an official release: I say this because I’ve been told on occasions that fan translations were released for the subsequent episodes in the shape of ROMs - but I always feel an ignorant when that topic is dumped over the table.

To me, Shining Force III was the perfect farewell gifts from Camelot Studios to the dying system, introducing some entirely new though adequate twists to the original episodes on the Mega Drive. Of course, no matter how good, this Saturn episode didn’t overthrow any of its prequels, namely episode number two, which so far remains my all-time favorite tactics RPG regardless of the excellence of Fire Emblem.

For many years now, Ucchan Nanchan no Hono no Challenge: Denryu Ira Ira Bo (meaning Ucchannanchan’s Challenge of Fire: Electric Pen of Nervousness) has been a successful Japanese TV Asahi game show hosted by Tsuiji Yoshinari. There, it’s the contestant’s goal to complete a number of electrified wire courses using a metal wand, avoiding contact between the rod and the wire. Because of its popularity, the show not only help sell thousands of home toy versions of the apparatus, as it made its way into a videogame adaptation published by Hudson. This N64 version of the game was pushed to the market around 1997 by Yuke’s, the amusing little software-house who created both Berserk games (DC and PS2, respectively), as well as Evil Zone (a twisted PS1 combat game) and numerous wrestling games for several platforms.

This N64 version has a few features to it that are worthy of note. First of all, it has a rather bold cover, with the figure of a topless bronze lady serving as decoration for one of the many courses included in the cartridge; it was also a game that, early on, helped advertise the N64’s rumble pack, which would simulate the slight feeling of an electric shock when the rod touched the metal structures. In addition, the game is also exceptional in using simple and almost non-existent graphics on the screen other than the essential metal assemblies against a black background; boasting, nevertheless, the system’s aptitude for producing fake reflective metal surfaces, that visual treat which even forced its way into the universe of Mario 64 - if quite unnecessarily in my view.

But, then again, Miyamoto had to give into something after such strict policies designing the console!

And from the once state of the art polished metal textures we now move to flat polygons. As I’ve made a point of showing before, the fighting genre has been the arena of much dispute over the superior graphic technology both in arcade games and in home consoles. An exception to this obsession for polygon counts and texture-mapped fighter figures, Tobal No. 1 placed smooth animation and quick gameplay as priority during development. Known for its Toriyama character designs, Tobal acheived some notoriety for different reasons: it’s fluid 60FPS animation helped sell it on the press; its unique quest mode extended the game beyond the one-on-one fighting arena; but also the fact that it included a preview disc - and these things tend to weigh heavily in Japan - containing the demo for Final Fantasy VII. This Dream Factory debut sold exceedingly well, spawning an important sequel that in many ways redefined the genre.

Much like Sanshiro Segata was to the Saturn-era at SEGA, former Sr. Managing Director Hidekazu Yukawa became the poster boy for the Dreamcast days. It all began with a seemingly innocent television advertisement where Yukawa starred as himself where he verifies, first-hand, the decline of SEGA’s reputation in Japan. Directed in the usual introspective and self-commiserative style that has defined the company in those years, this commercial was meant to demonstrate how so many Japanese players had turned - this was the year of 1998 - their backs on SEGA and were now worshiping SONY instead. After being psychological and physically abused on the streets, the clip ends with Yukawa being encouraged to stand up - a hint that some people were still cheering for the company.

The early success of these campaigns and the products led to further appearances of the former director, the best known of which being the demo disc What’s Shenmue?, where players were given a small sample of Yokosuka virtual streets with the purpose of locating Yukawa. A less known appearance is that of this obscure and evanescent release entitled Yukawa Moto Senmu no Otakara Sagashi (lit. Former Managing Director Yukawa Treasure Hunt). This disc was meant to be used more as a promotional item rather than a full-fledged game per se, as it allowed its owners to take part in a nationwide contest where they could earn some exclusive prizes, including a hyakuman yen for the main winner. The objective was to look around a terrain for hidden treasure, using the respectable Mr. Yukawa as an avatar, then registering the items found online - all in a very simplistic fashion of course, as this was easily the meekest of releases on the console from a technological standpoint.

Unfortunately, the treasure hunt was only open between late March and early April 1999, thus rendering this item obsolete ever since.

This is Toro, the small and lively white cat which first starred in the PSX release Dokodemo Issyo, by the time SONY was launching its Pocket Station gadget. European PlayStation Network users might know this amusing little figure since it was cruelly included in the small list of SCE icons one chooses as an avatar for an account. There, one might also find the amicable face of Boku, the little child who stars on Boku No Natsuyasumi games. Even if none of this games were ever brought to the western markets. Go figure.

This Toro’s Holidays (originally Toro to Kyujitsu) is one of a few PS2 releases where the little Toro had the chance to appear. As was customary with this amusing little series of games, Toro and his friends appear superimposed over a series of actual photos. These are mostly “event” games with not much interactivity or exploration, mostly a string of pathetic situations in which Toro makes a fool of himself. Apparently common, I found the box artwork to be among the most appealing of all in my collection for reasons beyond explanation.

As it tends to happen so frequently with me, Enigma was the proper name for this game of which I knew nothing about. It turns out that it was quite agreeable and indeed inventive. For a brief moment, this third person adventure or action game - depending on the character controlled at each moment - stoke me as a judicious middle term between Glass Rose and Onimusha. On the other hand, Enigma also brought Eternal Darkness to mind although it clearly precedes it. The plurality of characters, styles and the locations where their adventures take place was quite unseen in its day.

One of the most interesting details in this game was the dynamic way in which some pre-rendered background would fade to back when exited, the 3D character repositioned in real time according to the perspective of the following location, where the new background would appear fading from black. There are also several minutes of quality CGI, hence the 2 CD release. Clearly this was among the greatest productions from KOEI on the PSX that season.

A nice KOEI leaflet makes mention to the cult PSX game Druid, as I’ve tried to emphasize with that last picture.

The origins of The Snowman date back to the late seventies when a cartoonist and illustrator by the name of Raymond Briggs released the children’s book of the same name. Shortly after, the best-selling book was adapted to the British television, where the story about a snowman that comes to life on a winter’s day soon became a Christmas family favorite. I might have watched these cartoons as a child as the theme and characters seem close but how many times has this sort of story been done by different people?

Although it was impossible to verify it, this PSX game is possibly an adaptation of an early Win95/98 CD-ROM where the entire book was digitized along with a few interactive games to make the experience worthwhile. The release of popular animated films or illustrated books in this format was by no means uncommon in the mid 1990’s and because of their educational value, they were often the selection of many parents instead of traditional games. Like Klaymen Klaymen (as The Neverhood is known in Japan) and a few others successful CD age games made in the great West, The Snowman found its way onto the PSX rather than having a Japanese PC release. I’ve mentioned this situation vastly across my numerous posts about Japanese gaming: in Japan, the PC was surely not a platform for games, let alone infantile ones. Due to its increasing popularity, the PSX served as a surrogate PC in Japan, especially with the wide availability of the system’s official mouse accessory.

From the moment I inserted this small little title, brought to the Japanese market by GAGA, I knew that this was a small forgotten classic. It features not only a variety of film clips from the animated series, as the entire illustrated story translated and narrated in the most heart-warming Japanese feminine voice. Additionally, there are seven different mini-games which can be accessed, all of them fairly simple to complete but with some technical prowess, especially the game where the boy is taken for a flight over his town hand in hand with the jolly snowman.

Mr. Bones is a videogame I dearly remember from the early days of the Sega Saturn. In fact, no one seems to have been indifferent to the dancing skeletons that appeared mysteriously on some of the first Saturn game release mash-ups, hence the cult status this game still owns today. It’s hard to determine a specific genre to this Zono Inc. game from 1996, as each level presents its own type of challenge from action platforming to guitar solos among the red-eyed crowd. As was so common in these 32-Bit days, a good part of the levels make use of CGI sequences blended with the animated characters for added visual impact. Strangely, other venues are entirely rendered in real-time 3D. Part of the fascination of this game derives from the awkward balance achieved between different modes.

Other than a highly eccentric game design, Mr. Bones is also an early example of the evident disparity between the quality of the box-art in North-American and Japanese game. It’s incomprehensible how an American-themed game is released in the US with a pitiful little box art, while having a magnificent and unseen eastern counterpart. Here, the elements of a 1970’s rock and roll album are simulated in unparalleled brilliance, from the psychedelic cover and logo to the stage list box on the back, imitating the track listings on the back covers of LP albums. A little figure on the back also hints to Ronnie Montrose, the guest guitar player who performed the music for this bare-boned extravagance.

Layer upon layer, the successive releases of videogames often cloud one another. Aware of this fact, videogame developers invest heavily in different forms of promotion for their games, from advertising, merchandising to the very way they handle how and when their games are released. Such preferences are not within the grasp of every studio, namely the smaller creators where the needs for budget is often compensated by a relentless passion and vision. As a result of their inability to promote their games or to inflate their sense of importance so they may find better representation in the media, a number of important games remains overlooked for many years.

Odo Odo Oddity is a name with no value in today’s videogame sphere. It is in fact a title so humble and discrete that you can’t find a single piece of data about the team behind it (Isetan Data Company, as they’re known), let alone the individuals forming it. In spite of this, the team has left its small but meaningful contribution to game players: released in early 1997, this game is based on the bizarre journey of a small boy who travels with the aid of three colored balloons that cunningly represent the life bar. In his possession is also a magical staff with which he can throw projectiles capable of hitting the many enemies he finds as he crosses many different skies.

In short, Odo Odo Oddity is a rail shooting game with a friendly presentation and a number of highly inventive level designs as well as some unexpected technical demonstrations. Evading the dominant model of Panzer Dragoon to 3D rail shooters, Odo is more on the wavelength of its predecessors such as Space Harrier, if played in a much slower and thus more relaxing pace. Beyond its childlike aesthetics and modest presentation, this buried game presented me with some of the most visually striking locations in a videogame of its day, including the corageous exercise of building an entire level filled with references to Japanese visual arts, as is the case of Hokusai’s Great Wave off Kanagawa.

We arrive now to the final game in my selection as visitors of this site know I always save a very special mention for the end. Shachou Eiyuuden was developed at the very turn of the millennium by a team in China, having been released in 2000 by SCEJ. This unconventional RPG game is based on the story by the same name by author Jin Yong, translated as The Legend of the Condor Heroes, although SONY favored a more literal translation of the novel’s title (The Eagle Shooting Heroes) for their game. The story is set in ancient Mongolia, during the time of the Jin army invasions and the two sons of two warriors whose friendship knew no boundaries. In spite of their parent’s intention to make them best friends, fate decided that they should be enemies to one another.

The depiction of the barren Mongolian landscape was done using real time graphics exclusively, which at the time made this epic title become less of an appeal compared to the Squaresoft heavyweights with top-notch CGI sequences and dream-like pre-rendered backgrounds. And even if there were still the necessary interruptions between field exploration and fighting sequences, this title maintained a rare degree of respect for visual homogeneity and integrity. It remains quite surprising that the designers were concerned with aesthetics in a game system that, regardless of its glorious moments, had numerous limitations in the production of 3D graphics. At times, between the open field adventures and village phases, I was reminded of Panzer Dragoon Saga for the Saturn: which, as you may know, was exceptional in drawing inspiration from ancient eastern motives such as the ones also beautifully represented here.

Another interesting aspect of Shachou Eiyuuden lies in the fact that it is entirely narrated in Mandarin, with the optional Japanese subtitles on the screen. The quality of the voice acting is thus combined with one of the best written videogames of all time - in great part due to the celebrated prose from the novel by Yong.

Other than the standard role playing game fare, which includes hundreds of dialogues, collectable items and experience levels, this cast-off title presents a delightful spin to the actual combat mechanics: each of the characters can use one of three different styles of martial arts which should be used as a countermeasure to one another. As in a closed circle, each style is more powerful than one of the remaining, but also weaker than the other. The strategy resides in the correct selection of the apt style for each combat. From a visual standpoint, these battles result in quite spectacular moments of 3D Wuxia combats that bring to mind the theatrical karate sequences from cult series like Heroes of Shaolin.

Unlike the old prevailing JRPG model, forged during the 80’s and early 90’s, The Eagle Shooting Heroes is a much briefer experience with a well adjusted difficulty that drives the player smoothly and without major interruptions to the fascinating narrative. Indeed the priorities of the studio were focused on a more contemporaneous approach to game design, enhancing the value of the experience above the challenge factor.