Long before Star Fox disappointed again and again with genre shifts and half-baked game design, before Star Fox 64 solidified its position as a recurring Nintendo franchise, and before even Donkey Kong Country stunned the world with pre-rendered CGI, the original Star Fox captivated the gaming populace with polygonal graphics. The gameplay was great too, mind, but as this was the first Nintendo game to primarily utilize polygons, the tease we previously witnessed with Zelda: A Link to the Past's opening Triforce had been realized as a living dream. We had taken our first step into the future, so to speak, and the proof lied in the 3D Arwing gracefully operating by our very own hands.
Of course, as always with the passage of time, what was once cutting-edge is now primitive, and so Star Fox must now rely on its actual gameplay to preserve its legacy. Not that I particularly mind the presentation losing its luster -- Star Fox apparently has a dreadful framerate, and let it be known here and now that is, without fail, always something beneath my notice -- but as the following generation of Nintendo 64 and PlayStation games are mocked for their graphical degradation, how could a 3D SNES game hope to survive? Quite well, actually. Not that it has a patch on Star Fox 64 or anything, but it remains a close second if only for its laser-focused mission: being a competent space shoot'-em-up. With how all the post-Star Fox 64 games reinvent the wheel to not-so-great success (arguably, anyway -- I have a soft spot for Assault), this is a blessing. In addition to being a revolutionary landmark title thanks to its graphics, you get a simple, no-strings-attached rail shooter.
This week just about killed me, so I wasn't able to go too in-depth in this review. Perhaps you can view this and The Beginner's Guide as two parts of a whole?
Origin: Star Fox Plays In:Credits Status: Original Composition Composed By: Hajime Hirasawa
The SNES Classic Edition -- it's been two weeks since its announcement, and it's all I've been able to think about. It's the first time Star Fox and Yoshi's Island will be officially available via emulated form. I've been checking the listings on Amazon and Best Buy every day in scant hopes I'll be able to pre-order. Thoughts and prayers are sent out to the universe every day that we'll see these games unfiltered, just like the glorious NES Classic Mini before it. (My kingdom to have a bright, unglitched Kirby Super Star!) An equal amount of thoughts and prayers sent out in hopes I'll secure one.
Most of all, I think about how we will witness the very first release, to my memory of a cancelled game in Nintendo history: Star Fox 2.
Plays In: Mission 5 (Asteroid Belt - The Aparoid Menace) Status: Arrangement Arranged by: Yoshie Arakawa, Yoshinori Kawamoto
Love it or hate it, Star Fox: Assault's repertoire of orchestras may very well be the musical apex of Star Fox. The second Nintendo game to feature a full orchestra transformed a cheesy space shooter into a full-blown space opera; one still cheesy, mind, but now every story beat and character arc was granted more gravity and heft than ever before.
A number of songs from Star Fox 64 are given the orchestral spotlight, albeit with a slower motif. Some were disappointed it didn't emphasize fast-paced action, but I can't imagine a more fitting tradeoff. Just take the fan-favorite arrangement of the Star Wolf theme: a cutthroat skirmish between two adversaries is revamped into the splendor of their joint destiny: two rivals, the greatest pilots in the galaxy, locked into glorious combat.
We also see this in one of my personal favorites:this foreboding arrangement of Meteo. Encapsulating the never-ending awe of space, it's a perfect complement to the stage's context: hunting down an old enemy within the endless black, as familiar wreckage and abandoned machinery haunt the Star Fox Team.
Even taken on its own, it holds such raw power. I envision slowly losing myself into the infinite darkness, the innumerable constellations and nebulae of the Lylat System swallowing me whole. The remains of the Gorgon war machine, destroyed in the battle of Area 6, gloomily drifting across the galaxy until resting at the vapor of Sector Y. The Pleiades, sailing across the cosmos with no pilot, guided by a purpose known only to those who created it.
Only once before had Star Fox presented such a pure depiction of space: the previously-covered Sector Y from the original game. Whereas that waltz depicted the grand beauty of space, this one commands its ever-lasting dread; the mystery of the unknown. But even such qualities hold such an imposing allure on their own, and I can't help but be swept up every time I listen. Even now, its gripping enigma terrifies me, as I imagine the Arwing's cockpit growing ever more claustrophobic in the depths of space.
Some days, I just want to lose myself into whatever reverie such songs provide me. The responsibilities of the adult world always stop me, and in truth, even as a child I caught myself saying, "I don't have time for this." But to think eternally with no concept of time and responsibility...the treasures that could be surely mined from such meditation captivates me.
Final Thoughts: Hearing the original song pop up in Star Fox Zero was pretty fun, especially since its accompanying level didn't conform to the typical "asteroid field" template found earlier in the series.
Star Fox 64 belongs to a genre I've hardly dabbled in, yet remain fascinated by: shoot-'em-ups. What was once a popular, omnipresent form of play has since been relegated to a niche following, overshadowed by the likes of AAA development and online gaming. Yet while people just aren't willing to put down money in the face of bigger, meatier experiences, shoot-'em-ups and rail shooters remain as intense as ever for those dedicated to the genre.
And yet despite my limited experience, would it be so bold if I were to claim Star Fox 64 is the greatest of them all? Perhaps it's just my bias speaking, and I'd be lying if the air-shooting sections in Kid Icarus: Uprising hadn't already surpassed it in both difficulty and design, but nearly twenty years of endlessly replaying this game will do that to you. It is, at the very least, one of the very best "pick up and play" games I have ever encountered: every run ends in less than a hour, I regularly shift routes in every playthrough, and I've practically memorized every line of dialogue, be it the cries of hapless wingmate Slippy Toad or the crusty train driver of Macbeth.
Even today, it has yet to grow old, but why? Like Super Mario 64 before it, Star Fox 64 is a full-fledged showcase of what the N64 can do. Oh, yes, I could point out the seams in the skyboxes, and maybe the Rumble Pak lacks the same thrilling punch it had back in 1997, but that the gameplay still holds up to this day is what matters. Beyond its bullet point of being the first Nintendo game to feature extensive voice acting, the likes of an elaborate scoring system that depends not just on your mastery of the shooting system's intricacies, but of the routes you embark on is endlessly fascinating to me. No longer are we limited to a route based our choice of difficulty (as per the original Star Fox for Super Nintendo), but we're encouraged to chart courses of mingling toughness.
This isn't done by the mere press of a button, either; you must work for it. Hidden trails and warps for your Arwing fighter to soar through are strewn across the planets of the Lylat System, and while they're not always thoroughly hidden, there's always a sense of accomplishment in that you, as a player, had successfully guided the Star Fox team into another course. For instance, the game doesn't always rely on extra passageways: if you fail to defend the bases at Katina or Fortuna, you can forget about heading to Solar.
You can, of course, retry, and while it prods at our egos that we do so, we're ever more grateful it allows such an option rather than committing an even worse sin: wasting our time. There's a delicious freedom to it all, and while it sadly lacks the option to replay any mission you'd like (a feature added to its 2011 3DS remake), it doesn't really matter when the entire game's great fun, or even that long. If anything, I find the anticipation of reaching certain planets only heightens their experiences. In particular, there's Macbeth, where you gradually destroy The Forever Train while piloting the Landmaster Tank; Zoness, a toxic ocean that requires swift destruction of incoming search lights, and Sector Y, an armada-filled battleground with shogun robots and one very obvious (but fun!) A New Hope reference. If the careful player plays their cards correctly, they can reach all three in one playthrough.
Naturally, there's more to Star Fox 64 than routes. For one, there's shooting. Lots of shooting. Good shoot-'em-ups provide countless options to rack up the highest score, and Star Fox 64 is no exception. Even now I juggle my split-second decisions in the opening level of Corneria: naturally, I know the hidden route achieved by flying under the stone arches leads to a higher score (and Sector Y, should I choose to go there), but what about everything else before then? Catching more than one enemy fighter in a charge shot acquires more points, so even now I aim my shots towards land-based units just as an air-bound one swoops down from the sky. It's harder than it sounds, but I know it's doable.
This is not to say Star Fox 64 is an overly difficult campaign in itself; really, any retro shoot-'em-up can give it a run for its money in that area, as I can practically storm through it on autopilot. It's how I choose to play that provides an enticing challenge, as I can either aim for a new total high score or improve a kill count for any single planet (and even then, there's an unlockable Extra Mode if I desire a tougher challenge. Venom is just nasty).
I could go on, such as how every enemy is expertly
telegraphed, the intensity of the Star Wolf dogfights and how much fun it is to bomb things, but it'd all just
feed into my ultimate point of how some of Nintendo's best games deeply
respect the creed of "easy to learn, hard to master", and Star Fox 64
is among their company. However, while I still to this day aim for
bigger and better scores, I am hardly any such example of said creed.
Really, I suspect that it's framed just perfectly enough within its
presentation that ultimately appeals to me. The story and world operate
like a distilled Star Wars (albeit with an anthromorphic
population), never intruding upon gameplay progression but instead as a
form of accompaniment. Being distilled Star Wars means it's presented with typical camp and cheese, yet it's never bloated to the point where I can't take it seriously.
Case
in point: the voice acting, which is largely comprised of local,
unknown talent. Not "bad" talent, mind, but mainly actors you'd see in
your downtown theater or whose voice talents are largely reserved for
radio, audiobooks and commercials. Perfect for the short, memorable
quips of Mario and his friends, but let it be known voice direction has
always been the NOA Treehouse's Achilles' heel, and that can prove to be
largely disastrous in dialogue-heavy games. Later examples like Metroid: Other M and Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance attest to this, but in what's nothing less than a miracle, you'd hardly know it from Star Fox 64.
See,
it'd be all too easy to cite nostalgia as the reason why, but it wasn't
until the game's 3DS remake that I realized the secret sauce: it's all
performed genuinely. This isn't a case of the directors and voice actors
obnoxiously doubling down on the camp present in the game's script, nor
is it a case of the latter coming in to deliver half-hearted
performances for what they--and perhaps the directors involved--
perceive to be another dinky children's computer game. No, this is the
result of a circle of individuals who came together to produce a living,
breathing sci-fi adventure, who understand that this is a world that
requires a delicate balance in tone; it's not nearly as raw as Metroid or Fire Emblem, but not nearly as squeaky clean as Super Mario or Kirby.
A world where a fox seeks to avenge his father, a falcon can be brash
and cocky, a hare gives sagely advice, and a frog can be endearingly
clumsy.
Fox McCloud (Mike West), the team leader, is
oddly the member with the least number of lines, but that's no excuse
for West to get sloppy; he's played as the youthful leader, but he's performed seriously enough so that lines like "Let's rock and roll!" don't come across as overly comic. Meanwhile, through some careful guidance from the Japanese development team, Falco Lombardi (Bill Johns) is successfully played as the Han Solo to Fox's Luke Skywalker: quick to bark at Fox for his mistakes, but sets his sass aside for moments of true camaraderie...even if it's bitter sarcasm ("Gee, I've been saved by Fox, how swell").
Of course, the real star is Rick May's Peppy Hare, and I'm not just saying that because his words of wisdom ("Do a barrel roll!")
have been repeated on internet forums everywhere since 1997. Even with a slight Southern accent, he's portrayed as the most grounded character (as it should be, considering he's the veteran who laid witness to Fox's father's death). I said earlier that Star Fox 64 never gets raw, yet it's amazing how his passionate cries for help tiptoe on that line; check out how he screams "What's taking you so long, Fox?!?" when chased by an enemy fighter.
The
villains are no slouch, either: the delicious British accents for Jock Blaney's Wolf and Jay Green's Leon are easily the highlight of the
opposing Star Wolf team, although I'm particularly fond of Pigma
Dengar's whiny jackassery. Meanwhile, the delicious cheese
of the various bosses are infinitely quotable in themselves,
particularly Sector Y's Shogun ("COCKY LITTLE FREAKS!") and the Macbeth train driver ("Step on da gas!"). There's also Andross (Rick May), the big bad whose synthesized voice continues to haunt me with one line: the echo of his thundering giggle that pervades the final battle.
The
only weak link I can spot is Lyssa Browne's Slippy Toad, and it's not
that she does the job poorly as it that she's, well, miscast. A recent all-cast interview reveals she was directed to channel the voice of a
boy, but that's clearly not what we have here: it's a voice very much
that of a woman, and it's caused no shortage of gender confusion (for
the record, Slippy is male). And yet, I cannot bring myself to hate her
performance. She's miscast, yes, but nostalgia be damned! Her performance is just as genuine as the rest, and it's become just as much a cherished part of Star Fox 64 as anything else.
Let's not forget the music, either. Legendary game composer Koji Kondo, who did sound effects for the original Star Fox,
promotes himself to composing the game's peripheral pieces (as in, the
opening/title themes, menu, game over, etc.). The main theme--a
recurring motif which became the series theme from hereon--is more of a
military march than the grand orchestra of Star Fox's SNES days.
While it's a song that's proven its compatibility for orchestra in
future appearances, that it hues closer to a Saturday Morning action
cartoon is what reigns in the game's tonal balance.
We
see the motif repeat in the ending theme, but though the (also great) Level Clear theme takes most of the spotlight, it's actually host to one of
my favorite Nintendo ending/credits sequences. Yes, the awkward dialogue between Fox and General Pepper is hilariously abrupt, but it never interrupts the catharsis of the final two scenes: the Star Fox Team triumphantly sprinting across rocky terrain as the Great Fox mothership slowly soars into the setting sun, ending the credits with a percussion-filled choir. Be for it for the purposes of a nostalgic revisit, the thrill of a high-score run or simply playing for pleasure, I'm hard-pressed to think of many game endings this rewarding. (As an aside, I've found it's grown ever more powerful since former Nintendo president Hiroshi Yamauchi, whose credit as Executive Producer covers the sun right as the choir kicks in, passed away in 2013).
This isn't necessarily a surprising direction, as such prestige rolls back to the Menu Theme, a favorite of mine which I've written about before. Echoing that of a museum, it's one of my favorite Nintendo menu themes in that it always compels me to sit down and reflect on a journey I've taken hundreds of times. Be it before I've even started a new campaign or when I'm entering a new score at the end, it successfully frames Star Fox 64 as the vindicated sci-fi tale it wants to be, as evidenced by how it segues into the "military briefing" style of the Prologue/Map theme.
But let us not heap all the praise on Kondo, for Hajime Wakai is the game's leading composer. His debut work for Nintendo, Wakai helms the game's levels to varying success. That's not to knock on his composition skills; everything from the Fortuna/Sector Z theme to the dream-like Warp zones expertly capture dogfight battlegrounds and the mystery of space. No, it's the sound quality where things tend to slip a little. I'm not sure why it's mainly just on Wakai's end while Kondo's pieces are stronger in this area (especially when Kondo had similar fumbles in Zelda: Ocarina of Time), but regardless, it's worth an analysis.
Corneria is a great example in showing Star Fox 64's instrumentation falters in one area: percussion. Not the booming ones from the aforementioned credits, but the lighter kind meant to accompany the main tune. It's pitifully tinny, and it's particularly dreadful when there's no actual tune to mask it. One can also spot this in the fast-paced Star Wolf theme.
Here's the good news, though: much of this weakness are in the beginning percussion, and you tend to forget about as the main tune kicks in. What's actually bizarre is that I hardly notice this when playing it, as it's drowned out by the Arwing engines and the superb voice work before I have a chance to notice. Here, examples like the theme for Sector Y and Solar, where the percussion briefly carries the opening segment, are obscured by the onscreen action.
Of course, this isn't a problem for themes like Venom where it springs out the gate with a different instrument. Percussion's vital here too, but the other instruments at work ensure the song--a nightmare-ish dive into the world that killed Fox's father--capture the player instantly. For the record, even though this plays in the route that leads to the false ending, this song alone is why I actually prefer this version of Venom to the hard path one.
Really, if
I must name one flaw from a design standpoint, it's the multiplayer.
There can be some fun mined from it, sure, but there's no getting around that it's woefully barebones. I could certainly envision a multiplayer mode with Star Fox 64's engine being a grand ol' time, but certainly not with only two stages and the barest of environmental interaction. Not even the novelty of opting to have your
character walk around with bazookas can salvage it from mediocrity.
But let us not tarry on such blemishes. Let it be known that while I enjoyed the divisive follow-ups to the Star Fox brand
(barring Rare's adventure-based turd), none of them have a patch on
what I, once again, personally deem to be the very finest of its genre.
There's no half-baked gimmicks jumbling out a mess of ideas; no
repetitive concepts overshadowing a tried-and-true gameplay model. It's
simply Star Fox 64: a game with lightning-fast pacing confined to an afternoon's delight. It remains not just one of the Nintendo 64's best, but an exemplary standard of the aerial combat fighter.
Origin: Star Fox 64 Plays in: Main Menu Status: Original Composition Composer: Koji Kondo
You're adrift. You don't quite know how you got here, yet your mind can't muster the strength to ask why. The deep darkness of space threatens to swallow you whole, but being surrounded by thousands of stars instils only calm. You merely float along, devoid of all will, content with wherever the gentle pull of space takes you.
And then, within a moment's passing, you land. Your surroundings materialize via wireframe before taking solid form. It's a forgotten museum isolated within the reaches of space: crafts and mannequins of all sorts are on display, all depicting the heroics of Team Star Fox. Be it wall-embedded videos detailing General Pepper's military accomplishments, a diorama of the Battle for Katina, and even a room dedicated to the inventions of the Toad family (complete with prototype replicas for the Landmaster and the Blue Marine), you roam this museum for what seems like years.
There are no other visitors. There's not even a sign of whoever built this museum hidden away amongst the stars. Your only companion is the above song, which plays endlessly through the speakers. It fits the place like a glove, and compels you to delve further and further into these hallowed halls, to learn all you can about the most legendary merc-for-hire team in the universe.
But you never finish. The moment the song begins to fade, your surroundings begin to revert alongside it. From solid form to wireframes to nothingness, only the stars remain as your consciousness drifts back to reality. And that's quite alright; you'll be immortalized within these hallowed halls one day.
After all, you finally got your own spaceship.
...sans the surprise ending, that's the imagery that always come to mind whenever I start up Star Fox 64. It's amazing how the game can switch between its typical B-movie atmosphere, a hardened space drama, and degree of prestige within a moment's notice. It's all thanks to the tagteam duo of Hajime Wakai and Koji Kondo, although the latter's work is what we're featuring today. Koji Kondo's menu theme for Star Fox 64 remains one of the finest menu themes in Nintendo history, elevating the game to the aforementioned level of prestige while maintaining the chillest calm.
A calm that I often sit back and reflect upon before attempting a high-score. I don't have a choice; it compels to recline and let my mind wander. And that goes for even after I've finished my latest campaign; after all, it does play when you're entering your latest score. If not, I zip right back to the menu to ponder a bit.
And while I'm at it, here's the version found in the 3DS remake. While its rearranged soundtrack had its ups and downs, I rather like the take on this song. I still lack the proper vocabulary to discuss the finer points of music, but the instruments used here grant a different flavor while largely maintaining the same tone. Dunno if that made sense, but given the severity of music misfires in this remake, it's more than enough to earn a thumbs-up for me.
I wonder if Star Fox Zero's menu theme will be as good? Between this and the starry theme for the original Star Fox, it has a lot to live up to. Come to think of it, who's composing that game, anyway? I wonder if Mahito Yokota's arrangement for the Star Wolf/Sector Z themes in Smash is a sign...?
Final Thoughts: I went in a bit of a different direction here today. Did you like it? I'm thinking of ways to differentiate entries so I can flex out my writing, so lemme know.
I haven't talked about the Star Fox series too much on this blog, have I? Not to my memory, no. I suppose it'd only make sense to initiate its Leave Luck to Heaven introduction via the first game.
The debate of Star Fox vs Star Fox 64 will surely last until the end of time, but the former is unanimously favored in one area: its soundtrack. Hajime Hirasawa's SNES score is wonderfully suited for a space-shooting 3D thriller, entertaining mixes of the rock and orchestral variety. The latter in particular is a highlighted standout, what with it contrasting the endless grandeur of space with a cast of anthropomorphic space fighters. Despite this, I've always relished in the powerful emotions it instills into me as the player, such as the heart-pounding tension of narrowly dodging the crossfire of an galactic armada and the hard-won victory following a difficult boss battle, soaring off into the distance with my trusted wingmates.
Sector Y is particularly notable for refusing to align with the battle-ready/victory fanfares of its orchestral brethren, instead opting for a soothing space waltz. An odd choice for an action-heavy game, but it succeeds with flying colors. For starters, it's a beautiful complement to the stage's vague ocean theme, with lead Fox McCloud shooting up space-bound amoebas, eels, whales and the like. It recalls similar themes used for other games' underwater levels (Hello, Super Mario Bros.!), and with the level's black expanse of space stretching out for what seems like forever, it may as well just be another underwater level.
But gosh, it's just such a gorgeous song regardless! What astounds me most about the song is how it masterfully touches upon areas not explored anywhere else in the rail-shooting realm of Star Fox. It's as soft as a lullaby, yet grand as an orchestral hall. This does not delve into the philosophical (why is the leader of Star Fox shooting down whales?), but the dreamy hypnosis it induces on the player is so palpable, so distinct that it can't be merely shrugged off. Take me, for instance: the high-score driven gameplay gradually but surely slips away as I'm whisked away into a fantastical wormhole, its brilliant colors morphing together into gentle vibrational shapes not unlike that of the Windows Media Player visualizer.
Sector Y is optimal for that moment of Zen we so desperately seek from the daily turmoil of our working lives, and I suppose that's why I often turn to it for an escape. Donkey Kong Country's Aquatic Ambience is also a stellar choice, but there's denying that it can instill some serious gloominess; in the case of Sector Y, the song is more on the netural side, so I can count on it for not letting me slide down the slippery slope of depression (nor being uplifted by the false promises of more uplifting songs; it merely refocuses me). The compounding stress of schoolwork and working on my personal projects such as this lovely blog are no match for this zoned-out waltz, and for that I'm grateful to it.
It's a shame Mr. Hirasawa never worked on any future Nintendo projects following Star Fox, as I would've loved to see his fantastic sense of genre into more classic video games. However, I suppose that is why this particular soundtrack is so unique and treasured, for there truly is nothing quite like it.
Final Thoughts: Man, I should write about Star Fox one of these days. It'd be fun to rip apart Star Fox Adventures.
--
Hmm...three Biweekly Music Wednesdays in a row. I think I hear Kirby calling me.
