Thursday, June 22, 2017

ARMS Review (Hey Poor Player)



ARMS is pretty neat, although its flaws are more evident than Nintendo's other recent debuts. We'll see how Nintendo's future support improves the game, but as it stands, it's still worthwhile.

As far as other blog-related stuff goes...since I had most of my week off from work, I did want to use it to write out a review I've wanted to do since forever, but this article and other priorities overtook it; actually, I still haven't even done my E3 impressions yet! At this rate, that may not become a reality... I'll give it my all this weekend!

Oh, and I've been neglecting to update my game journalism section in The Archives, haven't I? I'll get right on that.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Metroid Prime 4 and Metroid: Samus Returns: What They Mean (Hey Poor Player)



This took longer than I expected! I had a crazy busy weekend, and I was only able to squeeze out this just last night...oh well.

Anyway, this contains pretty much all my thoughts on the Metroid games announced at E3. I'll go in-depth into everything else this weekend instead, but before that, you can expect a Hey Poor Player review this week!

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 50 ~Main Tunnel~ (Metroid II: Return of Samus)



Origin: Metroid II: Return of Samus
Plays In: Main Tunnel
Status: Original Composition
Composed By: Ryoji Yoshitomi

Where do I even begin with this E3? The pseudo-3D sequel to Yoshi's Woolly World? The "best-of" approach to the new Kirby Switch game? The remake of Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga that comes packed with a hilarious sidestory? The genuine, infectious passion behind Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle, which is as unpredictable as the concept itself? The DLC for Zelda: Breath of the Wild, which I desire to play this very instant? The explosion of ideas, presentation and joy that is Super Mario Odyssey, which I believe without a doubt will be GOTY?

Well, I think my selection for today speaks for itself. Out of all the wonderful announcements and previews from yesterday, there was nothing more exciting, blissful and cathartic than the news of not one, but TWO new Metroid titles: Metroid Prime 4 and Metroid: Samus Returns. As a fan of the original Prime trilogy, I let out something resembling an inhuman scream of joy upon the announcement for the former, so that should tell you how excited I am for that.

But more than that, has anyone else picked up on how much this mirrors Metroid's previous hiatus? Think about it: both Metroid Prime and Metroid Fusion --home console and handheld games, respectively-- were announced in roughly the same time period many years after the last installment, Super Metroid. Now, we have yet another home console and handheld Metroid duo announced, one again, some time after the last main installment, Metroid: Other M. Kooky, right?

Except there's one, big difference between the two situations: Super Metroid is regarded even today as an all-time masterpiece, whereas Metroid: Other M is perceived as the game that killed the series. The vitriolic reaction to last year's Federation Force spin-off only cemented that unfortunate -- perhaps even certain -- perception, and all seemed lost for the Metroid faithful.

That both 2D and 3D Metroid are returning after such a slump, however, proves one thing: Nintendo still believes there is a future for the franchise. The Metroid games remain some of the finest adventures the company has ever produced, with one of the most passionate fanbases I've ever witnessed. The lack of games in-between Other M and Federation Force prove that Nintendo was, indeed, burned by the former's reception, but it was that very same passion that made them give the series a second chance: we criticized those two games not just because they weren't what we wanted, but because we love the series so much and know the Metroid teams at Nintendo could do a better job.

And what better way to show goodwill by revitalizing the series with Metroid Prime sequel and a 2D remake? Metroid: Samus Returns is particularly fascinating; it's no secret Nintendo's older games for NES and Game Boy are difficult for newer fans to appreciate, with their high difficulty and ugly graphics. Having played through Metroid II: Return of Samus once on 3DS, I can certainly see why Metroid fans of today could be put off: just like the NES game, it's very easy to get lost, and the monochrome graphics aren't very pleasing. A remake with 3D graphics is the perfect decision, especially when you're bringing back a beloved franchise!

Question is, how much will the music be improved? Readers unfamiliar with the game will undoubtedly recognize how amazing the game's Main Tunnel theme is, but the rest of Metroid II's music is rather...underwhelming, to say the least. Much of it is just bleepy, bloopy ambience as opposed to that one theme's strong melody, and it grates on the nevers rather quickly. I know I was deflated when I realized that was the case; that tunnel music is just so damn cool!

Thankfully, signs indicate we're in for an audio treat.  For starters, Nintendo certainly seems proud of the game's music, as they're offering a 25-song soundtrack with the game's Special Edition. While watching the game on Nintendo's Treehouse, I also noticed several sound effects and even a music track (Magmoor Caverns) lifted directly from Metroid Prime; does this mean Kenji Yamamoto is helming the game's music?

Regardless, I know I'm ready for a new age of Metroid. And needless to say, I'm hardly alone.

Final Thoughts: Oh, that reminds me: I'll be discussing my thoughts on Nintendo's E3 this weekend, alongside a new Hey Poor Player article on this very subject! Look forward to it.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Worldly Weekend: Kingdom Hearts (PS2)

Note: Please excuse the imbalance of quality for screenshots here; for whatever reason, viable screenshots of earlier PS2 game are especially hard to find. 


Dear readers not familiar with Kingdom Hearts, I implore you to look, just look, at the cover above. Yes, that is Goofy and Donald Duck of Disney fame chilling in the moody, moonlit sky alongside three anime teenagers. Their normally-cheery faces are now solemn, decorated with such wistful melancholy that does away with their kid-friendly personas, evoking an aura of maturity never before displayed to the public eye.

Needless to say, Kingdom Hearts was one of the most bizarre debuts of the PS2/GC/Xbox era, and yet somehow it ended up being one of the most beloved. A collaboration between Disney and famed RPG developer Squaresoft (now Square-Enix), the 2002 action-RPG's outlandish concept of pitting Disney icons and zipper-laden, key-wielding adolescents against Disney villains in command of heart-harvesting shadows--a tale bookended by Hikaru Utada pop songs, mind--is so uniquely ludicrous that it demands your attention. But why?

My theory? By framing itself as a "darker" take on Disney, Kingdom Hearts ropes in the nostalgic RPG player who once associated with their films in early youth. I am no exception to this: the game was responsible for restarting my fervent following in Disney animation, the soundtrack never left my CD player and I clocked out the "Hours Played" stat in the course of a year. Since then, my association with Kingdom Hearts has floundered over the years: it birthed as an obsession that required a near-intervention, followed by a burning hate that wanted nothing more to do with the series, and am now settled as a casual fan who partakes in it like the finest of junk food.

And yet throughout all three phases, it's never ceased in fascinating me. While presented with the prestige of a typical Square title, what's stunning about the original Kingdom Hearts is despite being in possession of highs unique to the series, it consists of a shockingly embarrassing balance between being a professional AAA product and sloppy, freshman-effort design. This imbalance provides an ever-shifting sense of quality, from irredeemably awful lapses in gameplay (most anything involving the Gummi Ship) to moments that achieve the masterpiece status it desperately wants to be (Yoko Shimomura's score, tied with Super Mario RPG as her absolute finest work).

Needless to say, these flaws undermine any pretentious ambitions Kingdom Hearts prides itself on accomplishing, right down to the menu trailer being accompanied by an orchestrated Utada cover. However, they don't necessarily undermine that it's fun to play; actually, just playing it reveals a pretty great game underneath all its flubs. At its core, Kingdom Hearts is a competent work that's in a constant tug-and-pull to prove its own worth: where one element fails, something else is almost guaranteed to instantly pick it up.

What better place to start than the world design? In that case, the Alice in Wonderland segment is absolutely the finest example; like, what's going on with the Queen's Castle courtroom? Are technical limitations are what's behind it literally being shaped like a box, or are the castle and its courtyard being painted on a wall a stylistic choice much like her painted roses? I mean, I'd have to guess it's the former, considering it didn't look anything like that in the movie. And that's hardly the end of it: what's behind the Mad Hatter and the March Hare pantomiming from a painting? Last I checked, they were alive and well, yet their ghastly 2D expressions are needlessly confusing and creepy.

Needless to say, it's something of a contextual mess even by the standards of the source material, and yet gameplay-wise, it is absolutely deep. Echoing the absurdity of the 1951 classic, characters grow in size, furniture pops out of walls, and even falling down that hole can reverse all sense of direction. Likely the first world players will encounter, it's impressive just how much there is to uncover within such a relatively confined area, especially when considering the gradual acquisition of new abilities (can you say, gliding?).

 One of the aforementioned unique highs of the original Kingdom Hearts is a vital touch the sequels sadly dropped: coming to life via interaction. The individual Disney worlds aren't merely levels to be cleared, but can poked around to one's pleasure. There's a veritable amount of little touches, be it Jane's camp experiments in Tarzan's Deep Jungle, the 1:1 recreation of Winnie the Pooh's house in the 100 Acre Wood, or the gift-granting clocks of Peter Pan's Big Ben. Make no mistake: the weird de-emphasis on NPCs outside the films' casts has the eerie side-effect of portraying the worlds as deserted Disney theme parks (a problem that'll only continue to grow, as we'll eventually learn in later entries), but in terms of gameplay, they never feel more alive than here.

It goes to show just much love Square put into the worlds, even if the actual platforming is a little clunky. Yes, jumping and poking around nooks and crannies is pretty fun, but not so much when you're forced into most other alternate means of movement, be it swimming or climbing. Some are better than others: as expected, soaring over Captain Hook's Ship and around Big Ben is a blast, whereas the stiff vine-swinging in Deep Jungle do all but fail to undermine the density of Tarzan's home. In this regard, The Little Mermaid's Atlantica ends up the game's one true stinker; no, it's not the commonly-cited swimming controls that are the problem, but rather that it's an in-navigable mess that not even the wall-carved trident markers can solve.

Combat, too, presents an interesting juxtaposition of quality: there's the magic, for one, and how it ranges from the absolutely vital (Cure and Aero) to the absolutely useless (summons, which barring Tinker Bell are either too gimmicky or too weak to be worthwhile). Meanwhile, the aforementioned clunky platforming can't help but intrude upon some of the game's flashier boss setpieces -- namely, the second phases for Jafar and The Nightmare Before Christmas's Oogie Boogie -- and they're never not especially tedious.

It's good thing, then, the physical side of things remain the very best the series has to offer. While Sora's antics with the Keyblade are hardly as flashy as in later entries, the relatively grounded combat grant such weight to every strike, and it's not long until addiction sets in. In enduring through such grit, one will discover everything from the MP feedback to countering for tech points lends to a deep combat system. (And that's not even mentioning the scenic boss fights that do work: the second phase against Ursula the Sea Witch -- a heart-pounding torrent of rampaging thunder and currents -- is by far the game's most thrilling, demanding a constant influx of dodging and healing/defensive spells as you constantly fight against the currents)

And compounding upon that is just how well the animation's held up. Hailing from the early age of the six generation of games, it's amazing how Square nailed the look and feel of Disney, especially when they had be paired with their own Final Fantasy-esque designs. (Or even just straight-out cameos, like when Final Fantasy VII's Cloud Strife participates in the Hercules scenario) The Disney characters are appropriately fleshy and colorful, whereas the original settings of the ever-nocturnal Traverse Town and the dreamy, stained-glass abyss Sora visits at the game's beginning appeal to our inner nostalgia. (But we'll get into how that works later.)


The Nightmare Before Christmas segment and the Heartless creatures stand out as the visual highlights, albeit for different reasons. The former is obviously the one exception to the "fleshy and colorful" rule above, instead adhering to the film's blend of grimly whimsy. Between its tasks of bringing claymation characters to life, fitting Sora, Donald and Goofy with appropriately spooky outfits (Goofy's claws and screw-to-head lobotomy being the star attraction) and recreating the grimy landscapes from the original film, it's a visual feast that's unique all to its own, even within a premise as bizarre as this. Meanwhile, the Heartless' animal-like animation is a wonder to watch as they fidget about and stalk your party, all the while flailing around with every hit from your Keyblade.

Which is all the more shocking that this is mostly within the confines of gameplay; when actually watching Kingdom Hearts try to tell a story with its cutscenes, it's more than a little technically inept. I mean, what's with the awkward three-second pauses between character dialogue? The clunky transitions between voiced and text sequences, the latter of which gives the scriptwriters an excuse to fill them with base-level prose? The even clunkier shifts between animated faces and pixel mouths, which just...well, look at poor Peter Pan below to see what I mean.



The imbalance of quality here is honestly distressing when considering the highs it reaches; just look at the very first launch of Donald and Goofy's Gummi Ship: the comedic timing, animation and mannerisms all perfectly match that Disney touch, with animatronic gloves plopping a hapless Goofy and a not-too-happy Donald inside their vessel and capping off with a blink-and-you'll-miss-it lift-off. On the opposite side of the spectrum, you have Terk -- the Rosie O'Donnell gorilla from Tarzan -- dropping a Gummi piece as if she pooped it out, or how it just plain gives up when, due to plot reasons, Donald and Goofy momentarily break away from Sora in a shockingly abrupt, hurried scene that's supposed to be presented as if it's a difficult choice, but it just makes them look like total assholes. (This isn't even getting into how often they just stand there in reaction-demanding developments, a betrayal of their typically-animated hi-jinks)

Which reminds me: there's also the actual story itself, which...look, I like what it's trying to do. I enjoy partaking in abridged versions of Disney films or the occasional original take, carefully being fitted into its inventions of Heartless and missing friends. I enjoy the absurdity of Disney characters participating in this bizarre new mythos, be it the likes of Donald Duck serving as my mage, Aladdin and Peter Pan joining my party with their unique blend of skills and spells, and waging spectacular boss fights against Maleficent and Captain Hook. What I do not enjoy, however, is watching their respective stories be stumbled not only by clunky cutscenes but to a stumbling script that's clearly not all there. Read the following exchange between the protagonist, Sora, and the mysterious cloaked man he encounters early on and spot where it trips up.

Sora: "Wh-who's there?"
Cloaked Man: "I've come to see the door to this world."
Sora: "Huh?"
Cloaked Man: "This world has been connected."
Sora: "Wh-what are you talking about?"
Cloaked Man: "Tied to the darkness...soon to be completely eclipsed."
Sora: "Well, whoever you are, stop freaking me out like this. Huh? Wh-where did you come from?"

Did you just catch how Sora practically asks him the same question twice, the second instance echoing the first as if he's meeting him for the first time? There is nothing in between each instance to warrant this, and it's woefully clumsy. There are other such instances littered here and there throughout the script, and even if we could chalk one or two of them up to inevitable lapses in localization, that can hardly excuse what happens above.

Let us praise Kingdom Hearts' story for one thing: it doesn't disappear up its own asshole like the convoluted mess the series evolved into, as the lore and heartwarming themes involved present just the right amount of intrigue. The problem, however, is that it fails on various levels of thematic purpose, be they relying on messages far too sugary-sweet for the story it's trying to tell ("Believe in yourself!"), don't really make sense ("With Donald and Goofy at my side, I can do anything! Even though I just beat Hercules by myself."), or really, really don't make any sense (the events surrounding a certain magical door at the end, but we'll get into that when I cover Kingdom Hearts 2).


Really, I could nitpick the cutscenes all day, be it how The Little Mermaid's Flounder is only gifted with one line, or how the opening of the Pinocchio segment hinges entirely on an optional scene players are all too likely to miss, but at least the voice-acting props up any illusions of them actually working. Being such an ambitious project, Disney wasn't about to let the voicework go to waste, and so a special effort was made to nab as many of the original actors possible, right down to Kathryn Beaumont reprising her 1950's roles as Alice and Wendy. Naturally, voicealikes are provided for anyone who's dead or unavailable for whatever reason, and they generally do a fine job, although I confess that I maybe, kinda, sorta prefer Dan "Homer Simpson" Castellenta's take on Aladdin's Genie than Robin Williams. Heresy, I know.

When considering Disney's pull, it's only natural the celebrity voices -- namely for the main cast -- are the star of the show. You have the child stars for the protagonists (Haley Joel Osment, David Gallagher and Hayden Panettiere), and while I'm unnerved by Panettiere's hideous giggling, I remain impressed at how natural they sound even within the unnatural script. The same also applies to Billy Zane's role as the villain, all the more reason why I'm saddened he never signed on for the sequels. The celebrity reach even stretches out to the Final Fantasy cameos, and I'm actually surprised at how spot-on they are.

Well, almost. Celebrity castings being what they are, the Kingdom Hearts series has been plagued with some nasty miscasts, and the original is perhaps the most egregious in this regard. For starters, I'm not quite sure why Tate Donovan couldn't reprise his role as Hercules, and I'm less certain as to why they decided to cast Sean Astin instead, and I'm even less sure why he's channeling Josh Keaton's teenage take on the character when he's supposed to be doing the adult version. Needless to say, it's immensely distracting, and it's actually the one time I'm glad a character has such few lines. Meanwhile, you have...uh, NSYNC singer Lance Bass as Final Fantasy boss cameo Sephiroth, which is vile, vomit-inducing sacrilege to anyone even remotely familiar with those nouns. Even putting the mediocre performance aside, it's just...Christ, really?

That alone should cement the game's status as a rough product, yet believe it or not, there is one thing absolutely, undeniably perfect about Kingdom Hearts, and that is Yoko Shimomura. Her familiar selections of violins, xylophones, pianos and the like are the glue that keeps it together, and I fail to think of any game composer more suited to channeling the numerous venues of Disney nostalgia than her, be they the wistful, misty reflections on our youth or the warmth that envelops our hearts when we remember that one summer night watching Pinnochio.

I mean, is it possible not to stop and listen to Dearly Beloved play on any one Kingdom Hearts title screen? It's what I'll always point to as the series' real theme in representing what the series wants to be: the crossroads between childhood and adolescence, whereupon we realize our youth will inevitably shape who we become in the future. No matter how much Hikaru Utada's works frame the games' presentation, this one piano piece is Kingdom Hearts, to my mind. (Complete with the accompanying ocean waves)


But the real magic of Shimomura's score lies within how it picks up where the game slacks off; as in, anything that should be objectively garbage is rendered tolerable by virtue of the music alone. Case in point: the Gummi Ship shooting sequences, which exists only to serve its context (each world lies separate in space, so you use it to travel in-between) and nothing more. Operating with the grace of a 1996 PlayStation shoot-'em-up, they're slow, plodding, clunky, ugly and just downright not fun. In a lesser game, they would be emblematic of its quality; in Kingdom Hearts, they are an insult to its very ambition.

And then I hear this, and suddenly all is forgiven, because I'm right there at my first trip to Disney World as a wee lad. Yes, the Gummi Ship still sucks, but I don't mind that it sucks; indeed, what should be aggressively terrible is smothered by nostalgia, and now it's something merely tolerable that also happens to have amazing music. Meanwhile, clunky boss fights? No problem, because the likes of Destiny's Force, Shrouding Dark Cloud, and The Deep End all render them the huge battles they should be, particularly with how Destiny's Force recalls the towering nightmares of Disney villains we had in our youth.

It's all the better when it's not covering for a weak link, thereby building upon what already works with impeccable music. In terms of representing the aforementioned nostalgic venues of Disney, Traverse Town and Treasured Memories are the perfect candidates: the former a nightly stroll through our warmest memories, the latter not only accompanying one of the game's only successful cutscenes (I imagine it's no coincidence it's silent) but in itself touching upon we've lost to the sands of time: friends, homes and playthings gone by in the blink of an eye.

It should come as no surprise how well Shimomura expresses Disney within their respective scenarios as well, although I'm most intrigued whenever she chooses to take on an actual song from the source material. Her takes on Winnie the Pooh and even the Mickey Mouse Club March are perhaps the funnest, but my favorite lies in her arrangement for This is Halloween, wherein just like the world itself applies just the right amount of mischievous darkness to be the game's catchiest song.

As you may've figured out, I probably could up talking about the music forever, so I'll cap it off with one final note: what really makes Kingdom Hearts seem as "big" as it does is how well it pulls off choirs or big orchestral pieces, be it the chanting of Dive into the Heart -Destati- accompanying Sora's introspective, nebulous dream at the beginning or the grand Scherzo di Notte complementing the battles of Hollow Bastion.



The former is especially important as that "dream" sequence is the one and only moment that successfully conveying that aforementioned purpose of Kingdom Hearts. There's no voicework, instead silently linking Sora to the player through our choices, our hopes and dreams deciding the game's difficulty and progression. All this happens upon stained-glass podiums of Snow White and Beauty and the Beast within the lonely abyss, presenting an air of mystique that frames our judgements and preferences through youth as sacred as our memories of Disney.

Which leads me to my final point of Kingdom Hearts: when you're playing it, it's mostly fine. When you're watching it or even just really thinking about it (like, say, that moment you realize Neverland features everything from Hook's Pirate Ship to London and yet not the actual Neverland itself), you're practically dying of second-hand embarrassment. And yet I keep returning to it time and time again, as if its goal of speaking so deeply to me is actually working.

Kingdom Hearts is an obvious freshmen effort, but for as much as it stumbles, it's an awfully sincere one that I don't have the heart to write off. When considering the ambitions it reaches, I consider it something of an accident that it's rendered as humble as it is, and that's why I always approach not as the genesis of an epic, but as an individualized, unique tale. I mean, can I really get mad at a game that has Winnie the Pooh in it?

Friday, June 2, 2017

Ten Weird Nintendo Commercials (Hey Poor Player)




As you may expect, this was a real fun piece to write. If you're acquainted with other similar lists, you may spot several commonly-cited examples, but I made sure to include some...let's say, "unique" commercials I don't see mentioned often. 

At the very least, the first one's certainly a bit scary, eh? Ah, Japan!

Sunday, May 28, 2017

The Legend of Zelda


When Super Mario Bros. launched in 1985, it captivated a worldwide audience through subtle accessibility and an addicting idealism that made players say "I can do that." It was a game that fed upon muscle memory via carefully crafted physics and manipulation of Mario's surrounding environment, all nuances anyone could enjoy thanks to its accessibility. It was a pick-up-and-play game of the best kind, with level design fine-tuned as subtle tutorials and music that manipulated us to try, try again.

In contrast, its wombmate The Legend of Zelda offers relatively fewer cues, doesn't involve as much exertion, and requires a dedicated commitment for full enjoyment, but it captivates us through a slightly different ideal: "I can do it this way." Its world of Hyrule entices us with an open world, one where we can explore anywhere and are rewarded for doing so. Much like Super Mario Bros. before it, it becomes "our game": Shigeru Miyamoto's personalized garden can be tackled any way we wish, even if it's not bound by a set order.


Take what happens when the game begins: thrust into an unknown valley, we're immediately compelled to enter the cave on the very first screen, where an old man grants Link a sword. This is how most everyone starts the game: the cave's right there, the black square an obvious clue that's where you're supposed to go. Here's the curveball: did you ever stop to think about how you didn't have to pick up the sword? That's right, you can just skip the cave, accumulate over 100 rupees to purchase a Blue Candle and some bombs, and you're set for the rest of the game. Up until the final duel with Ganon, you don't need a sword to vanquish monsters, as the rest of the weapons you eventually collect can do the job just fine.

The infamous "swordless run" is perhaps the most extreme example of The Legend of Zelda's openness; after all, you'd have to know about the secret Rupee stash in Hyrule's northeast corner to even initiate it, and it'd take only the most hardened, passionate Zelda fan to even think of undertaking such a trial. (I, myself, shiver at the mere thought of it) And yet, that you can actually do it speaks to the game's depth: if that's possible, how deep this thirty one-year-old hole really go?

It's a shame that like other adventure games of its era, Zelda's barrier to entry is difficult for today's gamers to appreciate. One getting lost in the mountains and forests of Hyrule is, yes, the point, but that's hardly any consolation for us modern gamers who're far too accustomed by directions and handholding. Compounded upon by the 80's tropes of difficulty, relatively rudimentary design and par for the course 80's localization ("DODONGO DISLIKE SMOKE," hints the old man regarding a boss's weakness), it's only natural modern gamers can be turned off.

However, much like its action counterpart Metroid, said barrier to entry is exactly why I love it. As you're forced to forge your own path, you're compelled into thinking: what if I tried things this way? What if I burn down this tree, or push this gravestone, or play the flute over here? Barring its own offbeat sequel (Zelda II: Adventure of Link), the original Hyrule Fantasy remained the most open Zelda for nearly three decades. Once you grab the sword, it becomes your adventure; sure, you won't be heading into the eighth dungeon without a blue candle, but who cares when you can bomb everything in sight? 


It's a game intentionally designed to confuse, but hardly in an obnoxious way; in fact, Zelda uses its confusion to captivate us by subtly building upon its world. By far my favorite example is how certain hidden passages lead to a solitary Moblin's abode, who grants you 50 Rupees and the message "IT'S A SECRET TO EVERYBODY". Moblins are a common enemy, so this abrupt gift grants us pause: is this an act of betrayal to Ganon he wants to keep hidden, or is he speaking directly to the player and telling us to keep this gift secret from our Zelda-playing friends and family? Whatever the case, it's delightfully absurd enough to render the first instance of character in the series: it's just vague enough in making our minds go crazy with his motives and history.

Regardless, you're rewarded for your curiosity and eagerness to explore. It's the same mouth-dropping absurdity that catches us off-guard even when we accidentally stumble upon solutions. We can canvas an entire dungeon, for instance, scanning for that one door, that one elusive entrance that leads further into its depths...only to accidentally press against a wall and walk through it. Of course, the game is careful enough to only reserve this surprise for optional bonuses, but it's enough to inspire us to think outside the box.

That's a good thing, too, because The Legend of Zelda isn't afraid to pull punches. For one thing, the game's economy is tight (so tight, in fact, rupees are used as arrows!), and you'll find that you'll plan your adventure around that. As you'll always start over with three hearts, you'll be grinding for rupees alongside hearts, and maybe you realize you'll have enough for a healing potion. And isn't that swell, because you'll be needing one to tackle the dungeons, which emphasize Zelda's true nature as a survival game. The likes of Darknuts, Like Likes and Bubbles will do everything in their power to screw over the first-time player, and there's really nothing more disheartening than entering a dungeon with full health only to be skewered two minutes later. 


Strategies must be formed, and in here Hyrule becomes a living, breathing 8-bit ecosystem: you explore, you forage, you discover, you plan, and then make your move. Maybe you die, and so the cycle resets, but you're compelled to try it over again and again. Unlike Metroid, you're not being constantly pounded by enemies all the while starting over with pitiful health, but unlike Super Mario Bros., you don't have to start over from the beginning. You know what's to be done, you just have to try again, and there's nothing stopping you aside from player fatigue.

The key to The Legend of Zelda's success lies in its balance of difficulty and player assistance: it's never afraid to deal punishment, but it recognizes the punished player must receive reprieve to gain incentive to continue. It's not entirely perfect: the tedium of saving up for, say, yet another potion on top of more bombs can grate on the nerves, but that the Fairy Fountains grant instantaneous hearts provide a springboards of our own choosing; perhaps we're compelled to try again immediately afterwards, or maybe we slowly plan our comeback.

And once it's all over, it's all new again in the Second Quest, a programming accident turned into a feature amazingly ahead of its time. A vast improvement over Super Mario Bros.'s largely-samey take on the concept, The Legend of Zelda rearranges the anatomy of Hyrule's already-treacherous dungeons in both location and interior layout, which automatically inspires us to see how our foraging and detective skills match up in a more grueling adventure. (One that, sadly, I was this to finishing until a 3DS SD Card mishap erased my data. Ack!)


Once again, Koji Kondo arrives to capture our ears. Perhaps as every bit as famous as his work for Super Mario Bros., is there anything in gaming more inspiring and courageous than the famous overworld theme? A song designed to escape the buzzing boundaries of NES sound, it's at it's most impressive when juxtaposed alongside the crashing shores of Hyrule's lakes. Meanwhile, the evil dungeon theme is one I've always thought of as Kondo's take on a 8-bit organ, and even now I wonder how the youngest, most imaginative players had their fears spark to life with this one song.

What's interesting about The Legend of Zelda is while it features a sparse number of songs ala Super Mario Bros., it certainly feels more sparse in how it's utilized. Only the Overworld and Dungeon themes--and the Game Over theme, if I'm feeling generous--make up the mass constitution of the game, and it's quite common to hear the former interrupted by moments of silence. This is why the cave encounters like the aforementioned moblin bit are so striking: the weight of our discoveries, be they losing money for door repairs or discovering the White Sword, speak for themselves as opposed to being smothered by droning chiptunes.

Much as I've heaped praise on it, The Legend of Zelda is not without fault, mainly lying within several unpolished factors: for example, the concept of the skull-ish Bubble enemies is a viable challenge, but the methods for undoing their sword-cancelling spells feels overtly long-winded (this can even lead to game-breaking oversights; be sure not to get swallowed by a Like Like while under their effect!). Meanwhile, warp points frustrate more than they help, as their undesignated (perhaps random?) stairwells likely means you're not certain to traverse to your desired destination.

But even such antiquated missteps do not prevent it from being a classic. The Legend of Zelda is, like Super Mario Bros. before it, a timeless masterpiece that doesn't just continue to inspire adventure games generations later; it is, over thirty years later, still at the top of its game. Even with the steady quality-of-life improvements found in A Link to the Past, Ocarina of Time and Breath of the Wild, Hyrule's inception is as adventurous and inviting as the legends it spawned.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 49 ~Overworld Theme~ (The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past)




Origin: The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past
Plays In: Hyrule (Light World)
Status: Arrangement

Arranged By: Koji Kondo

Zelda.

For two months, Zelda has graced us with its glorious presence. Breath of the Wild made the gaming public fall in love with the series all over again, with an avalanche of perfect scores (including my own!) from the media and players still being overwhelmed by its massive world. I am no exception to the latter: even now, nearly two weeks later and having already beaten the final boss, I still feel like I haven't so much as scratched the game's surface.

Of course, Breath of the Wild is not without its criticisms: be it the oversights found in the "Blood Moon" mechanic, the difficulties in rain patterns, or people's woes with weapon durability, it just goes to show no game is perfect. Personally, I find the "drop and switch" nature of the weapon durability to be the most interesting gameplay Zelda's utilized in over a decade, and I find most of the voice acting complaints to be rather overblown; really, I've found the game to be a near-perfect experience.

One particular complaint that's rather common revolves around its usage of music, as some say there's not much in the realm of memorable tunes. Actually, this was something I found myself agreeing with in my Hey Poor Player review...to an extent, anyway. There's certainly a good number of well-composed tracks that captivated me, be it the enigmatic shrine theme or the castanet-heavy battle theme, but I did find myself agreeing the best songs often lied in familiar arrangements, be it Rito Village's beautiful take on Dragon Roost Island or how the stables weave in Epona's Theme.

Do I see this as a flaw? Well...not particularly. Do remember not only was that review was only done after five days of playtime, but it's been over two months since. Since then, I've encountered several other fascinating original works, namely the diminutive march of Korok Forest and the foreboding Lost Woods that precedes it. It might not be my favorite Zelda in regards to music, but there's certainly many pieces I enjoy. (Any Hateno Village fans?)

Breath of the Wild
is a game designed to destroy Zelda traditions while maintaining its identity as the most ambitious game in the series; in that respect, it's only natural Nintendo, a development team that's only just exploring open-world gaming, is going to make missteps, let alone please everyone. For every success they've had in the game's physics or dynamic combat, surely those who praise those aspects take issue with dungeon design or the minimalist approach to story and music (and do remember that those who called for change aren't necessarily the same people disappointed with said change; instances of hiveminding like this are what lead to false preconceptions such as the infamous "Zelda Cycle").

I could list several suggestions for improvement if I wanted to, but they're hardly enough to dethrone what I and many others consider the current top contender for Game of the Year. As far as the music goes, it's not the best, but I hardly find it as forgettable as Twilight Princess or Skyward Sword, and that alone renders it a success for me.

...so which Zelda game does have the best soundtrack? Well, why do you think I selected a song from A Link to the Past? Chalk it up to nostalgia all you like, but I consider everything about the Super Nintendo to be timeless, from the graphics to gameplay to music. A Link To the Past is one of the very few games I could consider to be perfect, and its score  is one of the many, many reasons why. Songs like the Dark World, Time of the Falling Rain, Lost Woods and the Light World Sanctuary still chill me all in different ways, and this happens to be my favorite version of the classic Zelda overworld theme! That buildup is just delicious.

Could a future Zelda game overtake it? Who knows, but I have a strong feeling we'll be moving on from minimalist in the next entry...whenever that may be!

Final Thoughts: Actually, to avoid burnout, I've been taking a bit of a break from Breath of the Wild...but I'm hearing the cooking music calling me back.

By the way, does anyone else think the Smash Bros. for Wii U rip for this feels...off?

Monday, May 22, 2017

My NYC May Haul!

Wow, to think I'd be back at New York City in only six months! It just sorta spurred from a conversation between me and Dad, and before you knew it...there we were!

Anyway, I didn't take too many pictures this time. There was a launch event at Nintendo NY for Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (which, by the way, HASN'T ARRIVED YET *cough* *cough*), but aside from a couple cosplayers there wasn't a whole lot of visual spectacle for it. I did get to play a demo, however.

Anyway, here's the two sides of a really cool Zelda display.



The Master Sword statue from the Breath of the Wild Master Edition is bigger than I thought it was! Huh, now I regret not picking that one up...

The Arwing and Ganondorf statues...I want them.

This Meta Knight one, too. This and a Cat Mario statue are on display at the Midtown Comic store as well.
I own a couple of these Game & Watches, actually: Mario's Cement Factory and Mario Bros. Will I ever scrape up the funds to own a complete collection...?




Cool box.

I've never seen a Color TV Game in my life, so this was pretty cool to see. Kudos to having Kirby's Adventure representing the NES!

Easily my best shot. Here we see Mario contemplating his downfall in relevance as everyone swarms around the Naked Cowboy. Just what is going on underneath that cost-er, I mean inside that jolly ol' head of his?

Anyway, here's my loot.


That's right: six posters! The first two are from Majora's Mask 3D and Star Fox 64 3D. Can you guess what the other four are?

Wow, how much manga is that?!? Best of all, all but two are in Japanese! For those curious, from top to bottom are Dragon Ball (Kanzenban edition), Dr. Slump, Straighten Up!, Spring Weapon Number One, Gintama, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure and One Piece.

I knew I'd be pickin gup Super Bomberman R eventually, but I had such a blast playing the demo with folks at Nintendo NY that I just had to grab it! It's pretty good, but definitely hard even with the CPU.

Larry, Ludwig and Wendy. Finally, the Koopalings are complete!

Koopalings, assemble!!

Meta Knight, proud as ever.

Two Zelda puzzles. I've been picking up some gaming-related puzzles in the past several years, but I've yet to work on them...I should fix that.


Finally got Pink Yarn Yoshi. Now, where can I pick up a Mega one for a good price...?

AND NOW, A SCENE FROM SPRING WEAPON NUMBER ONE PRESENTED WITHOUT CONTEXT

Oh, by the way, this arrived today, too.


Wow, if it isn't Kirby as he appears in Kirby's Dream Land's promotional art! This was made to celebrate his 25th Anniversary. I wanted the Super Star variant, too, but I didn't have the funds...

In any rate, I like his whisker-esque cheeks. I also wasn't expecting him to be that fuzzy.

I wonder what I can use his bag for.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Checking In + Apologies

And just like that, two and a half weeks blazed past me. I've actually been so busy with other matters that I hadn't noticed the blog was being neglected! For those awaiting my latest pieces, you have my deepest apologies.

So, what "other matters" were these? Well, I suppose there were three:

1. Since the past month, Hey Poor Player has been pushing itself quite heavily over social media and the like in an effort to grow and raise awareness. We've made it a goal to grow into a big site by the end of the year, so naturally we've been spending much planning and the like on that.

2. My current Front End Associate job at Weis Markets seems like it'll be sticking around this time, as opposed to the temp jobs I've been taking up last year. Aside from...let's say, "rough patches" in the beginning, it's going quite well. I'm not working every day of the week, but obviously with three or four days taken up, I have to juggle my time wisely.

3. I've been rushing to complete Fire Emblem Gaiden by the time its remake, Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, hits shelves tomorrow; as it currently stands, it seems I'll barely make it tonight, although given my trip to New York City this weekend I probably won't be playing it until Sunday or Monday.

How is Gaiden? Well, it's status as the "black sheep" of the series is...well, probably true. I've been planning finally review Fire Emblem on here by the end of the year, but in the meantime, I'm looking forward to seeing how the remake improves upon it.

So there's all that. Again, sorry for the wait! To make up for it, I'll have a write-up sharing my goodies from NYC after I get home, as well as Biweekly Music Wednesday! and a new review in the next week!

Oh, and by the way, remember when I said I've been renovating my gaming basement? Progress has been quite smoothly on all that, and it's all nearly in a presentable state! As stated before, I'd love to show it off, and I'm hoping to finally do that this summer. Look forward to it!

Sunday, April 30, 2017

The Best 15 Mario Kart 8 Tracks (Hey Poor Player)



Woops, I've been having so much fun with Mario Kart 8 Deluxe that I forgot to link my OTHER Mario Kart 8-related article from Hey Poor Player! Overall, I've written up more than 5000 words for two separate pieces on the game; naturally, since they were created concurrently, there is some overlap between the articles. Regardless, I hope you enjoy.

Believe it or not, the courses chosen kept shifting even when I was writing this article! Big Blue and Dragon Driftway were this close to making the cut alongside the likes of Shy Guy Falls and Excitbike Arena, but they just missed out on the fun. Of course, the track order was prone to change as well, so it was rather tough.

Everyone, let's all what's possibly the best Mario Kart yet!