Donkey Kong Country

I don't typically touch upon my Asperger's in these reviews, but there's a certain memory regarding Donkey Kong Country that must be shared. By far the most prominent of my preschooler-age quirks were made-up words: nonsense given purpose only to the mind of a self-absorbed child. Often taking the form of onomatopoeia, one such term -- "BWAH BWAH!" -- was born from the powerful opening visual of Donkey Kong barreling through his tree house's front door and slamming into the ground below. A ritual was born every time I replayed that level, that guttural cry erupting from my throat in very same shrill ferocity of Baby Animal from Muppet Babies.

The point being, the visual prominence of Donkey Kong Country inspired people to the point of babbling nonsense at the sight of its pre-rendered 3D visuals, myself included. And why shouldn't they, when it was not only the Super Nintendo's greatest technical marvel but groundbreaking enough to ensure the 16-bit market wasn't done just yet? Of course, there are those who believe Donkey Kong Country's only claim to fame was its graphics and not its actual gameplay, which is often perceived as inferior to the likes of Super Mario World and Yoshi's Island. 

Myself, I view it in the same vein as the original Sonic the Hedgehog: technically impressive with a solid foundation, albeit not nearly as superb as its successors (Donkey Kong Country 2, as well as its Wii/Wii U scions). But let us not commit ourselves to knocking it down already: yes, it doesn't hold a candle to Mario's multi-tiered design, but that doesn't mean Donkey Kong Country's fast-paced approach in smashing enemies and barreling through levels isn't without merit.

We witness this firsthand in the aforementioned opening level, which begins with the rocket start of Donkey Kong blasting through his front door. That tells us all we need to know about the game: it will be loud. It will be flashy. It will be exciting. And it certainly delivers on all three fronts: we rescue Diddy Kong from a barrel, throw other barrels and discover they can tumble along the ground and plow through crowds of Gnawty beavers and Kremling crocodiles, and hitch a ride upon Rambi the Rhinoceros and marvel at how he bulldozes enemies and crashes through hidden bonus rooms.

Not every level is that thrilling, of course, but it's within that first stage we learn most everything about how Donkey Kong Country works; in particular, how it operates on a rhythmical flow. Mario has a rhythm, of course, but not in the rush we find bopping upon a duo of Kremlings to reach a tree host to a DK Balloon, a satisfying maneuver that automatically instructs us that's how we discover out-of-sight secrets. Other innate interactive cues can be observed: the trio of Gnawtys placed after Rambi's crate are easy pickings for the rhino and prove his prowess, whereas the hidden barrel underneath the final "G" letter (collectible letters that spell out "KONG") after the bonus room hint at another potential source for collectibles.

In other words, Donkey Kong Country is a calculated joyride once mastered. We learn in this interview with lead designer Gregg Mayles this isn't a happy accident: elements such as swinging ropes first appear swaying towards DK and Diddy, so the practiced player can latch on the instant they emerge. We witness this further in Barrel Blast Canyon, where the floating barrel cannons require a level of timed efficiency that, once grasped, lead to a dazzling display of brisk velocity. And let us not forget the famous mine cart sequences: a single mistimed jump can spell doom for the lax player.

Even when the game tones down on the thrills does it never let up on the tension, with the four underwater levels serving as a prime example: DK and Diddy's movements are reduced, and unless we scout the help of Engaurde the swordfish, we can only simply dodge whatever nautical foes come our way. With the help of what's quite possibly the Super Nintendo's greatest musical feat, they're strangely cathartic affairs, but we'll get to that momentarily.

Really, what we must first confess is that for all its deliberate thrills, Donkey Kong Country never stops feeling, well, basic. Dominant as the animal buddies may be, the overall gameplay doesn't feel particularly "featured": DK and Diddy mostly operate the same outside of the latter's inability to fell large foes, and even when the level design offers twists in its underwater and minecart levels, it often neglects the nuance players discovered years earlier in Super Mario World's hidden pathways and Sonic the Hedgehog's alluring Chaos Emeralds. We have the collectible KONG letters, yes, but those just provide extra lives rather than unlockables, and outside of the bonus rooms, there's not much to each level other than completion.

Granted, we see hints of flexibility within the design -- most of the first level can skipped entirely by hopping across trees, for instance -- but instances of variety are few and far between, and that it's just focused on being a tight platformer is what cements the game's "freshman-effort" identity. There are other niggles: levels typically end without any fanfare, most bosses are repeats,  and many of the secret bonus rooms needed to 100% (or should I say 101%?) are rather obtuse -- yes, hiding a bonus room within a bonus room is clever, but it's hard to appreciate after the frustration of scanning levels up-and-down.

And of course, as it typically is with 90's and CGI, not even the character designs are safe: while admittedly I take great pleasure in knowing there's a character named "Funky Kong" living among the Kongs of DK Island, it's here we're also first introduced to Candy Kong, whose grotesque sexualization has never provided for anything resembling decent character design, her debut appearance being unmatched in its eye-bleeding foulness. And the less we speak about Manky Kong -- the Eldritch-abomination orangutans that populate Orang-utan Gang and antagonize our heroes -- the happier I'll be (a link to their Mario Wiki page should suffice).

None of these are even the worst visual offender, though: that would be Squawks the parrot's assistance in Torchlight Trouble, where the green fowl's torchlight unleashes a hideous flash that blinds players' eyes every time it so much as turns around. Thankfully toned down for its official emulated releases, it makes for the only case Nintendo's infamous "filter" adjustments are based on any actual merits on safety, and I'll happily accept it this one time.

Make no mistake, though: Donkey Kong Country's pre-rendered graphics are otherwise the star of the show. Some may say they haven't aged as well as simple sprite design, but as much as certain character designs contribute to that argument, it's hard to argue with the overall look: in placid contrast to the game's brisk gameplay, the lush realism is both inviting and melancholic, be it the host of abandoned tree house villages, dreary caves, and dimly-lit mines.

Not that Donkey Kong Country doesn't provide bright locations -- look no further than the jungle and forest levels -- but for a tongue-in-cheek adventure about apes and monkeys rescuing their bananas from evil crocodiles, it is nothing less than thematic dissonance; however, for the revival of Nintendo's first gaming star, such ambition is to be expected, and what ensures Donkey Kong Country achieves that goal is the presence of composer David "God" Wise. Not that we should dismiss the efforts of his co-workers -- Eveline Fischer's Simian Segue is one of my all-time favorite map themes -- but as Mr. Wise largely takes the helm and is responsible for some of the best music in SNES history, he deserves the spotlight.

Much of Wise's output shifts between atmospheric templates and steady action pieces, as we respectively witness within Cave Dweller Concert and Mine Cart Madness, but both elements are present within the first level theme: DK Island Swing, which has gone on to represent the series. Beginning with a stable percussion so as not to drown out the opening crash and Diddy's cries for help, the ensuing sound of nature let us soak in DK's world before launching a groovy beat that masterfully segues into a melancholic wail echoing the sunset closing the level. Said melancholy doesn't really kick into gear until the second level -- a rainy test of vine-swinging survival-- and the all-encompassing dirge is nothing less than incredible: it is sorrowful, dismal as the stormy struggle and sober in echoing nature's edict of "survival of the fittest."

The point is, Wise's music doesn't just illustrate the illusion the levels are bigger than they actually are: they reflect an actual world operating behind-the-scenes, and so perhaps his soundtrack is the true secret behind why we were so fascinated with the graphics. The aforementioned Cave Dweller Concert stuns for similar reasons: a series of erratic percussion, a steady string of water drips, and a mournful flute make for the game's most creeping, chilling piece of atmosphere, in particular, that raw, mournful cry that closes out the song incites a level of despair I've never encountered in any Nintendo game since, and I dread in envisioning what could accompany such a frightful lament. (Eveline Fischer's Northern Hemispheres also deserves a shout-out here: the wintry expanses of Gorilla Glacier become a desperate bid for survival in its final act, suggesting a sudden blizzard threatening to entomb our simian heroes in an icy grave).

With a soundtrack this good, one would think picking its best song would be an impossible task, and yet there's not a moment's waste in making my choice: Aquatic Ambiance. Long has it been known that even in the face of water levels' rocky reputation for floaty controls and aggravating hazards can they be depended upon for the very loveliest of gaming music, and even when considering Nintendo's storied collection that includes the likes of Dire, Dire Docks and Crashed Frigate Orpheon, I can think of no better aural prize than David Wise's greatest masterpiece. The way its breathtaking soundscape and wistful moodiness simulate an immersion as deep as an actual sea is nothing less than magic, never failing to stimulate a hypnotic trance of one floating lazily through the currents. It is perhaps the very first piece of game music I ever took notice of, and as it is one I always turn to in memory of my brother, there is perhaps no better choice.

When contrasting how amazing Wise's soundtrack is alongside the thrilling yet basic platforming, we can ask the question: is Donkey Kong Country more than the sum of its parts? Perhaps, but if anything, I find it astounding what should be a by-the-books platformer is elevated through effective use of visuals, let alone successfully juggle such forlorn beauty alongside the tongue-in-cheek wisdom of Cranky Kong and a boss level named "Necky's Nuts". That in itself is a sign of fine craftsmanship, one that, even today, greets that thrilling crash with a cry of "BWAH BWAH!".