Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games Tokyo 2020 Preview (Hey Poor Player)

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This unexpectedly fell into my lap, and, well, a preview ensued.

Paper Mario: Sticker Star

To claim that I "hate" any game adorned with Mario's name -- one that personally translates to "God" in no less than thirteen different languages -- is not an action I'd ever take lightly. Not that any mainline games haven't ever fallen below expectations or there haven't been less-than-stellar spin-offs, but my reverence for Nintendo's mascot doesn't stop at his being responsible for getting me into gaming; nay, it's how both the character and his endless gaming catalog represent, to me, wholesome appeals into innate accessibility. However, as crass as I fear such overt distaste would come across, it is said devotion to the portly plumber that requires further diligence and honest criticism on my end, for I cannot possibly turn a blind eye to whenever my idol takes a misstep lest he ever grow arrogant with pride. With both respect and duty in mind, that is precisely why I declare the following:

I hate Paper Mario Sticker Star. I abhor it as if it killed my cats, that it's the source of the suffocating nihilism greeting me every morning with further news of climate change and Orwellian fascism, and that, yes, as if it's the primary culprit behind stealing my pencil sharpeners in 5th Grade. That I'm hardly alone in this opinion is my lone sense of comfort: while the game isn't without its ardent defenders, Sticker Star has drawn no sense of passionate ire following its release; enough, even, to make me steer clear for years after launch, and yet I still wasn't ready for when I finally sat down with it. To claim it is Nintendo's worst modern product might be disingenuous in a world where something as anti-consumer as Animal Crossing: amiibo Festival exists, yet even that vile, tone-deaf consumerist filth has something resembling an easily-gleaned purpose. (That, and well, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones with how they turned its failed amiibo line around with Animal Crossing: New Leaf's Welcome amiibo update.) Sticker Star has nothing to justify its impenetrable design, let alone be worthy of the Mario brand: we may laugh at a line or two, ooh and aah at some shiny colors courtesy of 3DS's 3D feature, but any fleeting joys are instantly smothered by patently obstructive puzzles, actively mocking the very ideas of telegraphs and progression as we rack our brains at how anyone in development thought this could provide entertainment.

Luigi's Mansion

The Nintendo GameCube -- alongside Sony's PlayStation 2 and Microsoft's Xbox -- wouldn't just represent the next generational shift in 3D gaming, but Nintendo finally stepping outside their comfort-zone. While their stubbornness towards online gaming would endure, their embracing of disk-based media allowed for seemingly countless new possibilities. A flagship game was necessary to prove its power, and with Super Mario Sunshine set to launch the year after, why not go with his overlooked brother?

Enter Luigi's Mansion: initially designed as a tech demo showing off the GameCube's capabilities, the decision to build upon that as a game would render it Luigi's first game -- well, the first one actually involving Nintendo, anyway -- wherein he'd search a haunted mansion for Mario and suck up ghosts with a modified vacuum cleaner. Unlike the 1993 mishap Mario is Missing!, however, Luigi's Mansion would not only deign it fit to put the poor plumber's name into the title, but have actual Nintendo designers, including Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto himself, make it a reality. It would finally vindicate Luigi -- the second fiddle to Mario's spotlight; the eternal understudy to the first player.

Super Mario Bros. 3

Before I begin this review proper, I must confess there exist two factors that've always dumbfounded me regarding Super Mario Bros. 3, the NES game revered as the system's masterwork. Admittedly, one bears little on the game's quality in itself; mainly, the shock that its original Japanese release was a whole two years earlier in 1988 than its 1990 American release. Technically speaking, that's more so a year-and-a-half (Japan's October 23, 1988 to America's February 12, 1990 -- and that's to say nothing of Europe's August 29, 1991!), but the point is, I just think it's silly 1988 America was busy greeting a reassembled black sheep in Super Mario Bros. 2 while Japan was living it up with the Holy Grail of 8-Bit Gaming. As always with the medium, The Land of the Rising Sun really does have it good.

The other cause -- one immediately more relevant and, as evidenced by this Koji Kondo interview, has certainly confounded others -- is how I am never not baffled by the silent title screen. Anyone who's played the Super Mario All-Stars remake should certainly recall the jubilant ragtime remix of the classic Underwater Theme, perfectly accompanying the game's curtain-raising opening via choreography: the subdued drone introducing Mario and Luigi, the trumpeting eruption of delight greeting not only both the title and the theater's showers of enemies and power-ups, but our joy in playing one of the greatest 2D platformers ever crafted. A disorientation perhaps exclusive to those who played the SNES/GBA versions first (including yours truly), this aural absence unveils our first impressions of Super Mario Bros. 3 as a stunning retcon, its reduction to silent pantomime a bewildering relic.

Super Mario Sunshine

And now, a story: there was, once upon a very brief time, I would've placed Super Mario Sunshine in My Top Five Video Games of All Time; No. 2, in fact, only behind Super Smash Bros. Melee. Call it the fervent hype of one little boy -- stumbling across a pre-release demo in New York City's Toys "R" Us remains one of my all-time favorite gaming memories -- but my bliss in Mario's tropical acrobatics couldn't be denied: be it bopping upon hapless NPCs and aimlessly hopping around the beaches and villages of Isle Delfino, hours upon hours were spent within torrid festiveness. Paradise was here, and it arrived in the anticipated thrill of a new Mario game.

Not many months later, however, a curious thing happened: the game slipped to No. 5, then No. 9, and then slipped off my Top Ten without a trace. It kept falling, falling, falling out of sight until its place within a Top 50 would be unfathomable. To say I grew a budding, resentful disappointment would be inaccurate, but the honeymoon period was certainly over, and the game's faults were too much to ignore.

Super Mario Bros. 2

And now, to reiterate gaming's most famous switcheroo: what we know as Super Mario Bros. 2 in Western territories is not the actual Super Mario Bros. 2, which was deemed too difficult and too similar for foreign audiences. The solution: take an unrelated platformer (Yume Kōjō: Doki Doki Panic, a Fuji TV collaboration that originally featured an Arabian cast), repackage it with Mario characters, get Shigeru Miyamoto and co. to polish up the gameplay, and voila -- you have gaming's greatest magic trick. It wouldn't be until five years later with the remake collection that was Super Mario All-Stars that rumors and urban legends whispered about Western audiences, with internet inertia finally dawning what would place among Nintendo's most historic fun facts.

In other words, this is why Mario and the gang are suddenly throwing vegetables at bad guys rather than stomping them. Without this knowledge, it becomes all too easy to label Super Mario Bros. 2 as one of the many infamous "black sheep sequel" so dreaded on NES -- sequels in the vein of Zelda II: Adventure of Link, Castlevania II: Simon's Quest or even the Japan-only Final Fantasy II, all which were being divisive experiments that messed with their predecessor's formulas a tad too much -- but even knowing that, is it really the game's fault it doesn't live up to the Super Mario name? Adding to the confusion is how despite the Japanese version being called "Super Mario USA," Nintendo has been all too quick to brush Super Mario Bros. 2 under the rug and not only inducting this localized version into series canon, but has since referred to this game as the real Super Mario Bros. 2 (as recently as being heavily referenced in Super Mario 3D World, in fact).

Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga

In retrospect, it's hard to believe we've gone fifteen years without a single new take on the Mario RPG formula. Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, developed by Super Mario RPG alumni at AlphaDream and the game we are reviewing today, was the last new concept introduced and that was way back in 2003's GameCube/Game Boy Advance era. Since then, Mario & Luigi has ballooned with five consecutive sequels (including Superstar Saga's 3DS remake just last fall), Paper Mario only had one more RPG (2004's The Thousand-Year Door) before bumbling into a hitherto unfinished run of tone-deaf platforming/action hybrids, and despite what dubious rumors may tell you, Nintendo, Square-Enix and AlphaDream's aforementioned alumni remain uninterested in a Super Mario RPG sequel.

In other words, for maybe the past decade we've been offered Mario RPGs/non-RPGs people are either sick of or don't want, and whereas Nintendo may strangely be complacent with this state, I can only imagine a reboot of some sort would ease our depressed fatigue. My current adoration of Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga + Bowser's Minions aside, Mario & Luigi's over-saturation is mostly imposed by the series' mixed quality: Superstar Saga and DS's Bowser's Inside Story are generally regarded as the best, with the rest either considered mediocre (Partners in Time), well-meaning but tutorial/content-bloated (Dream Team) or just wasted potential (Paper Jam). When the series works, its offerings are among the most delightful Mario spin-offs around; when it doesn't, it feels draining and monotonous.

Super Mario 64

Dear reader, should you be the gaming type--and I'm assuming you are, considering you're reading a video game blog-- let me ask you this: if you could, would you take on the impossible task of playing a game forever? Personally, there would be far too many earthly pleasures to give up for such a venture: while the luxuries of drinking Welch's White Grape Juice and stroking cats could simply be delivered to me, the simple pleasures of taking afternoon walks, watching cat videos and reading weathered One Piece and Eyeshield 21 volumes would simply be too much to give up.

And yet, a number of games pop readily to mind. I remain endlessly entertained by Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and 3DS, for example, and I've yet to grow bored of Splatoon even on the eve of its sequel. I've never tired of the cathartic seas found in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and my fascination with Bubble Bobble on my beloved NES Classic Mini hasn't ceased. I've lost count of how many times I've completed Star Fox 64 and Tales of Symphonia; in fact, I'm at the tailend of a playthrough for the latter right now.

Mario Kart 8

Look, let's be real here: the Wii U may have been a complete, utter sales bomb, but that did not stop it from possessing the highest concentration of quality Nintendo games since Super Nintendo. Pikmin 3 and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild rank among some of the greatest Nintendo games ever created, Splatoon and Super Mario Maker debuted to worldwide acclaim, and many would argue the likes of Super Smash Bros. for Wii U, Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze and Yoshi's Woolly World represent the pinnacle of their respective franchises.

Even Super Mario 3D World, my own reservations aside, isn't exempt from these accolades, what with the insane level of polish and love put into its design. However, this is the second instance in Nintendo history I can think of where a Mario spin-off surpassed mainline entries on a home console; just as how Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door eclipsed Super Mario Sunshine way back on GameCube, Mario Kart 8 speeds past 3D World, Super Mario Maker and New Super Mario Bros. U to become what I consider to be the finest Mario experience on Nintendo's ill-fated system.

On the contrary, this is not what my previous 8/10 review for the long-deceased Gaming Grunts would imply; there, I argued that as excellent as Mario Kart 8 was, it fell just short of being a racing masterpiece due to the obvious cut corners Nintendo took with the title. Let us make no mistake: said cut corners do limit Mario Kart 8's overall potential as a complete package, but a year's worth of DLC more than made up for it in the area that matters most: the actual racing.

I mean, forget Mario Kart; has there ever been such a wondrous relationship between course design and control? I'm not by any means a racing game connoisseur, yet I imagine many such fans would be hard-pressed to cite any viable contenders. Driving alone has never felt so smooth, and when combined with the awe-inspiring heights reached by the anti-gravity feature and the mechanics re/introduced from Mario Kart 7 (gliding and collectible coins), the game proves itself beyond the visual spectacle and continues to enthrall as a compelling racer. It's the perfect hook for those previously burnt-out on the franchise: come for the dazzling new concept, stay for just how great everything feels

"Feeling," of course, is just one element of gameplay; there's a lot going on in how the game operates: for example, the way tracks curve up the wall or into the skies is captivating, but it's just subtle enough to never distract the player and learns to fade from our concentration. Of course, the game is smart enough not to implement anti-gravity and the like in every track, lest we grow tired of visual gimmicks; after all, there's nothing wrong with a familiar, grounded test of racing skill (this is mainly the job of the Retro Cups, although as we'll discuss later, they're not afraid to reinvent the wheel).

Meanwhile, coins continue to layer a new form of strategy to preserve our top speed. Scattered across the tracks, these speed-boosting coins are enticingly placed so as to improve our racing game, be it curves instinctively requiring power-sliding or hanging just above an aerial shortcut. Mario Kart 8 not only trains us to follow the Super Mario Bros. rule in collecting coins, but builds upon it: we don't collect coins just because because they're shiny and gold, but in how they're vital to success. When losing coins upon getting smacked with a Red Shell or falling off Rainbow Road, we're driven to get them back. It turns Mario Kart's chaotic racing into a rhythmic process.

Combined with the  mix-and-match nature of kart customization (karts, wheels and gliders), and it goes without saying there's quite some depth in all the frenzy. Truth be told, while I do pay attention to kart statistics and the like, I'm more of a "get in there and race!" kinda guy, so the exact specifics between, say, Sponge Tires for Light and Heavy racers is lost on me; typically, I just fashion everything with Slick/Cyber Wheels thanks to their guaranteed sweet spot in speed/handling. I also confess that just like in Mario Kart Wii, I never quite got the hang of bikes; the inward drifting always felt off to me. Maybe when the Switch version rolls around this Friday...

But never mind that, as we still haven't discussed the courses themselves! Possibly the best Mario Kart tracks in series history, we're wowed from the get-go with how Mario Kart Stadium and Thwomp Ruins bookend the Mushroom Cup with their respective dizzying senses of height and flight. It's a thrill surpassed again and again by the likes of Toad Harbor and Cloudtop Cruise, and even well into the DLC tracks (namely Wild Woods and Dragon Driftway, although the latter focuses more on intense, close-knit loop-de-loops). As mentioned earlier, it's careful not to let anti-gravity be the only star; to my mind, this game's iteration of Bowser's Castle remains my favorite solely for the giant, lava-powered Bowser statue ready to crush anything invading its dual-track home. 

Retro courses are also stunning; whereas previous entries either provided 1:1 replicas or stripped-down versions for handhelds, here they're revamped in accordance to their respective roles. For example, the familiar Super Mario World-inspired fields of Donut Plains 3 doesn't require any anti-gravity to still be interesting, as a grounded, rough-n'-tumble race retains Mario Kart's roots and provides a nice breather from all the flashy new mechanics. Meanwhile, the completely reinvented likes of Ribbon Road (Mario Kart: Super Circuit) or Toad's Turnpike (Mario Kart 64) awe in just how much new there is; Toad's Turnpike is a particular stunner thanks to flying off cars and driving on walls. Even setting the aesthetics aside, it's almost a completely different course from the sleepy Nintendo 64 highway.

Mario Kart 8 was easily the best looking game on Wii U at the time of its release, and I'd actually argue that may still be the case. There's none of the low-res leftovers from Pikmin 3 or Super Smash Bros. for Wii U, nor the intrusive slowdowns and the like from Zelda: Breath of the Wild; Mario Kart 8, however, is consistent with its own look and performance (the infamous 59 FPS glitch aside, and I'll be rather honest in saying I've never noticed it), and is always so vivid, clean and just plain delightful to look at.

Look no further than the game's visual stunner: N64 Rainbow Road. A literal explosion of colors, what was originally a nebulous, dreamy raceway decorated with neon-lights is now granted a definite setting that plays into Mario Kart 8's festive atmosphere with fireworks and soaring trains. It must, however, also channel the dreamy nostalgia of the original: the music and the firework callbacks contribute to this, but it's impossible not to be absorbed into the hypnotic nightlights of the city below.

Hailing from an era where 3D World's speck of context and Paper Mario: Sticker Star's homogenization didn't spark our imaginations, it's delightful how there's a real sense of world to everything. The aforementioned reimagination of retro tracks is great enough, but take a look at the signs hinting at world lore: did you know Yoshi Wild Sanctuaries are a thing? According to N64 Yoshi Valley, they do. I never thought of Morton Koopa as being the manager type, so I'd like to see how Morton Construction operates. Maybe he's just the mascot? Even the spectators delight: I've never entertained the thought of Gingerbread People dwelling in the world of Mario, but thanks to Sweet Sweet Canyon, I desire to see a mainline Mario game traverse through their realm. I sure hope they don't run into any, uh, "hunger" issues with what appear to be local Yoshis.

This isn't even going into the actual courses themselves; for example, did you ever stop to think about the familiar geography behind Cloudtop Cruise? And don't get distracted by the bonanza of references in Ribbon Road, as each segment follows a certain theme. Let us not forget the wondrous character animation, either; to tell the truth, I'm actually rather saddened the related memes came and went, because I engage with the highlight reels far more than I care to admit just to watch characters expressions (mainly how they slowwwwly turn their heads when they pass by each other). Angry Luigi is the oft-cited king, but I'm more fond of Donkey Kong's totem-pole expressions and Toad's gleefully murderous joy. (And let us not forget the game's greatest item: Piranha Plant, who comes equipped with its own anti-gravity wheels)

(This is, by the way, the first non-arcade Mario Kart to feature crossover content in the form of Zelda/Animal Crossing characters and courses, alongside familiar locations from F-Zero and Excitebike. Seeing Link interact with the world of Mario is certainly a delightful absurdity, although the elusive context behind Mute City/Big Blue still makes me wonder how it all works. It's certainly more cartoonish than F-Zero, but just out of reach of Mario. Truly, I am gripped in the throes of deepest lore.)

If pressed, however, I would argue Mario Kart 8's greatest asset lies not in how it plays, but in how sounds. The combination of synth and live big-band performances provides the greatest aural Mario Kart experience ever made; be it freestyle brass or track transition, it's the ultimate key to the festive, jubilant atmosphere that complements Mario Kart like never before. The live arrangements are what steal the show: Mario Kart has always lent itself to a fun score that, true to its goal, never grows old, and while Mario Kart 8 certainly represents the best of that, its the aforementioned track transitions that still awe me. Not that Mario Kart hadn't applied music dynamics for progression before, but absolutely none of the previous efforts match the stunning euphoria that is Dolphin Shoals. What starts as a subdued, synthesized underwater theme transforms into a full-blown jazz session when the racers emerge from the depths, instilling an exhilarating, climatic thrill unlike anything else. I could credit the live performers for this little slice of Nirvana, but as the composer was behind Pikmin 3, all that goes to her.

Other songs like Mario Kart Stadium and Mount Wario play well within the Mario Kart-esque archetypes, yet I'm most blown away by the orchestral tracks; Thwomp Ruins and Wild Woods are unlike anything we've heard before in Mario Kart, introducing the likes of Celtic instruments and chorus to the series. They're a touch more active than the dreamier songs we've previously in Mario Kart, and it's a perfect fit for their respective enchanted environments and the "world" they create.

Of course, the retro remixes must be up to par. Rainbow Road 64 is once again the star, the familiar flute seguing us into a new festive jazz version (alongside the aforementioned aesthetic, this is why I consider it to be the game's *real* Rainbow Road). GBA Mario Circuit and Royal Raceway (Mario Kart 64) are great fun callbacks, and I actually happen to prefer the former and its new intro to the somewhat forgettable intro. Meanwhile, SNES Donut Plains 3 and its electric piano emulates its non-amibitous nature, choosing to instead kick back with acoustic and bass guitars.

That this is the first time Zelda and Animal Crossing have been treated to big band music--in the context of video games, anyway -- is a delightful bonus; just listen to how the Animal Crossing track alternates between all four seasonal versions! Can you say, GameCube theme? And as for the F-Zero themes...well, their godly arrangements speak for themselves.

To round things off quality-wise, Mario Kart 8 is perhaps Nintendo's one of Nintendo's finer online experiences, although we must remember that Nintendo being what they are, Mario Kart 8 isn't without it's "Nintenisms" regarding online activity. The lack of friend invites is often cited as one, alongside having to exit games to switch characters and vehicles. Otherwise, the presence of friend rooms and tourneys are, like Mario Kart 7 before it, a great step above Nintendo's normally-passive online efforts; in particular, the flexibility offered in custom rules makes for even more intense races than playing solo, and I found myself turning to NeoGAF rooms rather than improving my VR score.  I do imagine, however, online traffic will decrease upon Mario Kart 8 Deluxe's release.

All this would be enough to dethrone Mario Kart DS as the series masterpiece, but alas, those dang cut corners are what get in the way. Case in point: the battle mode. Whereas previous iterations offered specialized arenas for duking it out, Mario Kart 8 simply opts for reusing the racing courses. While there can still be fun mined from it, having to brake and turn around in such confined spaces quickly grows repetitive, and the alternative option (simply lapping around the courses and attacking whoever passes by) makes one feel like on autopilot. They're simply not designed at all for balloon battles, and it makes for the weakest Battle Mode since 2003's Double Dash!!.

The common defense for this is "well, Battle Mode was never good, anyway." Yes, perhaps...for you, which does not represent the Mario Kart population that disagrees. Furthermore, it's simply a shocking detriment when considering just how polished rest of the game is. Even when considering the DLC, it's what contributed to the unfortunate "bare-bones" label, as there's not much else for the game to fall back upon. It's thoroughly a rushed afterthought, and it shows.

Said rushed quality is noticeable in other areas: while the addition of the dastardly Koopalings is fantastic (Iggy fan, here!), they don't leave a lot of room for other newcomers, and Nintendo didn't exactly tap into their imaginations when it came to rounding out rest of the roster (Pink Gold Peach? Seriously?). Meanwhile, the lack of Expert Time Trials means we're stuck with the default time trials, and outside of a couple DLC outliers, hardly any put up a decent challenge.

There are other missteps it makes on its own: the Coin item continues to be a mistake, as it punishes the winning player by leaving them defenseless, especially if they've already filled their coin meter.  200cc is a  delightful experiment courtesy of DLC, yet I can't help but feel certain tracks weren't designed with it in mind (*cough* Dragon Driftway *cough*). Also, obligatory "derp the gamepad only has a horn feature" complaint here, but I suppose it's best GamePad wackiness didn't end up interfering with the core game.

And despite all that, what a core game it is. Like Pikmin 3 before it, Mario Kart 8 is a delicious rush of feel-good magic akin to guzzling the finest of fruit juice. Even with my own preferences of Pikmin and Smash aside, this is perhaps the best-playing out of all of Nintendo's Wii U offerings: it's an insanely-polished feast that backs up its ambitions not only by being a pure joy to play, but what's possibly the funnest sense of atmosphere and flavor the company has ever produced.

And now, with Mario Kart 8 Deluxe for Switch ready to fix all of its flaws, we'll finally see its full potential ready to be unleashed upon the world. It's been a long three years; go take the crown, buddy.

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 40 ~Have a Nice Talk~ (Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story)

Origin: Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story

Plays In: Various scenes
Status: Original Composition
Composed by: Yoko Shimomura

One of the joys of the Mario & Luigi games--and while I'm at it, Super Mario RPG--is affirming how much Yoko Shimomura gets the Mario universe. Her use of xylophones and the like don't just perfectly complement their respective games' playful, comedic nature: they bear the as Koji Kondo's original source material.

Bowser's Inside Story remains the pinnacle of the series, so it's no surprise its soundtrack remains Mario & Luigi's finest. Above is what's perhaps my favorite selection from the franchise: Have a Nice Talk, which is one of many names it's gone through no other apparent source but YouTube (aside from the fact that it's my personal favorite, we'll stick with that one for convenience). Often reserved for Bowser's overworld portions of the game, the Koopa overlord encounters  a number of curious characters to this tune, not the least of which is Broque Monsieur and his horde of Blitties.

While short in length, this is probably my favorite Mario and Luigi song for more personal reasons. Back when Bowser's Inside Story landed in my hands during Christmas 2009, my life was in the dumps. My senior high school year was a bust in both social interaction and IEP management, my inability to speak up with my feelings set the course for a rather nasty online fallout, and the truth behind my disappearing video games would unravel an unspeakable betrayal...

My only solace, my one escape from the cruel world around me, was latest Mario & Luigi game and its antics.The return of Fawful meant NOA Treehouse's script-writing was at its finest, and the presence of Bowser --always the bratty showstopper in nearly every Mario RPG--was the icing on the cake. To this day, it still remains one of my favorite Nintendo localizations.

But it was Yoko Shimomura's score that captivated me most. From the treacherous winds of Cavi Cape to the funky Bowser's Insides rendition of Plack Beach, the music never failed to lift my spirits in the worst of times, even if it was only momentarily. Have a Nice Talk in particular was the most earwormy of the lot, and I was always turned to its respective YouTube uploads whenever I was sour. It was if  it was saying "we know things with your brother are tough again, but Mario, Luigi and Bowser are still here to make you laugh, so please don't feel lonely."

To be fair, it took me a long time to believe that; overall, it took three different files in all to play through the game in its entirety, and it was soon only after my brother's death that I found the courage to complete it. It wasn't necessarily done in his memory, but rather as a means to once again escape from the pain (that fall's revisit of Mario Kart DS was far more relevant in regards to Michael). To my surprise, there was a finality to it all; for instance, I found the music's quality and message to be completely unfiltered, and not once were they ebbed away by imminent sadness.

It's undeniable that game music forges a strong, emotional people with gamers, but it never ceases to amaze me that even the tiniest of jingles resonate such evocative nostalgia. Much as people praise the final boss theme, the simple NPC conversation theme still remains my favorite. Not simply because it helped me through a dark time, but because now even now, I still have a future. Because even now, even when my social life is still in the gutter...

I'm still laughing.

Final Thoughts: Man, I can't wait to replay this next year!!

Super Mario 3D World

Super Mario 3D World is a game that should, by all means, be considered a masterpiece in my eyes. It's a labor of love, joy and good ol' fashioned game design that follows off the heels of its 3DS predecessor. Having thoroughly enjoyed Super Mario 3D Land, common sense should entail I'd love its sequel just as much.

And why shouldn't I? It's propped up by a live big band score, which is undoubtedly the funnest Nintendo soundtrack since Rhythm Heaven first visited our American shores. It's polished to oblivion, with secret coins, mushrooms and Luigi sprites hidden everywhere from the most unsuspecting of bushes to the tiniest of bonus stages. The warm, fuzzy nostalgia of Super Mario World aesthetics returns and is just as soft as you remember, with the familiar clean artstyle popping up everywhere in the form of Miiverse stickers and familiar cast members roaming the landscape (the Chargin' Chuck football guys!).

And it sheds the spotlight on cats. Cats! My status as a hardcore cat lover is beset by how all three of my cats treat me like I'm the Anti-Christ, dashing away the moment my lumbering presence enters their personal space and daring only to stare at me from the dark reaches of the stairtop (that, and I forbid myself to watch cat videos on YouTube in fear I'll waste hours watching Scottish Fold kittens). That Mario and Co. appealed to my rejected heart by dressing up in cat costumes and meowing up a storm is the best medicine I've received yet, and I dearly wish for the Cat Suit's appearance in more games.

Super Mario 3D World holds the highest Metacritic score of any game released this console generation. It's the first 3D Mario with full-blown multiplayer, complete with Princess Peach and Toad as playable characters. Nintendo fans far and wide have gleefully proclaimed it's the funnest game they've played in decades; not only that, but to many, 3D World represents Mario's true transition of the 2D formula into 3D. And I, the biggest Nintendo nerd I know, have spent the past year and a half coming to terms with the fact that I'm not in love with it.

Let there be no miscommunication here: Super Mario 3D World is quality. It plays great and oozes personality and charm in everything it does, all the result of love being poured into every line of code. And how my heart aches that I don't appreciate all that as much as I should. As should soon be evident, it's a game I still wrestle my feelings with, as while there are certainly elements of it that I love, I can't fall in love with the package as a whole. I've often wondered if the problem lies within my own high expectations for 3D Mario, a series that essentially created, defined and revolutionized 3D platforming (and gaming, in general) over the span of five previous games. Whereas Mario 64 laid the foundation and the Galaxy series crafted such imaginative heights, 3D World is mainly concerned with just having fun (and one other factor, but we'll get into that shortly).

Not that there's anything wrong with that by itself, but such a goal immediately places 3D World at odds with the Wii U's GamePad controller, a device that Nintendo completely failed to prove its worth. Much like every Wii U title that isn't Nintendo Land, 3D World establishes, at best, periphery involvement with touch-screen control and the like. When considering the heights reached in design and control from 64, Galaxy and even Sunshine, that a potential new avenue of 3D gameplay was discarded in favor of designing a HD sequel to a handheld game remains a poignant disappointment.

However, like how not every Wii game needed motion control, not every Wii U game should be decried for not having touch controls, so despite the franchise's prestige, it wouldn't be entirely fair to single out 3D World for that mistake. But alas, it's within that very mistake that 3D World's biggest flaw is made apparent, one that renders it inferior to even its own predecessor.

It wouldn't be wrong to claim Super Mario 3D World is the culmination of the seeds first sprung in the Galaxy series, where Mario's fantastical adventures in space were guided along in a more linear fashion. While they were still designed around the star-collecting missions from Mario 64 and Sunshine, their more open level design was tossed in consideration of those lost in three-dimensions (that the first two New Super Mario Bros. titles, which revived the 2D gameplay of old, sold significantly more than any 3D Mario title only seemed to prove Nintendo's point). The result: 3D Land's further distillation into a pure platforming experience (one could even perceive that the "3D" portion of the title was a rebranding of this particular Mario genre)

Like 3D Land before it, 3D World emphasizes the nostalgic bare-context of the 2D Mario games of yore. We spot this quality in its speck of a plot, bare minimum usage of text, the timer that inexplicably kills your character, and, as seen above, the flagpole signalling the end of every level. Alone, these aren't problems, but they do contribute to 3D World's biggest flaw: in it's rush to streamline 3D gameplay via 2D tropes, the game forgets to innovate and instead produces a homogenized product.

"Homogenized" as in it borrows too much from 2D Mario, I mean. This isn't to say 3D tropes we've seen before aren't present (as seen with how it unlocks progression via collecting Green Stars), nor am I saying it doesn't possess any new ideas, but then why do I grow so tired of it, then? That 3D World is a sequel to a handheld game to streamline 3D Mario gameplay means it has to juggle between retaining and building upon its tropes within an HD context all the while pointlessly reviving elements from 2D Mario, which naturally presents some problems.

Take the level design, for example. You could argue Galaxy and 3D Land of being homogenized as well, yet they're careful enough to frame their ambitions within their respective contexts. 3D Land is particularly interesting in how the level design is built around the hardware, with levels that go down, down, down or up, up, up appearing all the more imposing and inviting on a tiny handheld screen (when factoring in the 3D, the affect is all the more powerful). It's new, it's fresh, it's uncharted waters for our portly plumber.

And yet note how 3D World borrows some of these levels wholesale without a speck of difference. As expected of a sequel, you may say, but the levels that go up, up, up or present a Zelda-inspired top-down perspective simply don't possess the same magic on an HD level. Yes, the former plays well into the wall-climbing antics of the Cat Suit, but that we've already done this before adds a dull sense of familiarity within the first world.

It's no surprise then that the best levels are the ones built around Mario's new toys. The cloning Double Cherry, in particular, is the game's one true stroke of imagination and presents an unparalleled sense of precision and wonder everywhere it appears. Losing one of your clones to enemy fire or a mistimed jump is a common risk, and it takes some skill to, say, carefully navigate a block slide that, according to their color-coded design, disappear and reappear to the music beat. Something we've already done before, mind you, but points for difficulty.

There are other gadgets for Mario and Co. to fool around with, be it potted Piranha Plants to gobble up foes with and an oversized comfy Ice Skate to ride around in. But as expected, they're sparingly used so as to not grow old. This would okay since the clever "clear" warp pipe idea commonly picks up the slack, but that it's shackled in bringing back 3D Land tropes and coming up with new ideas brings me to my next point.

Look at how bright and colorful that is! Indeed, the colors in 3D World pop with such vividness and festivity that they're often propped by distant fireworks and the like (seriously, try bopping on the innocent Sprixie folk; they shed actual confetti). Here's some more delectable shots below.

Here's one with some modern effects. 3D World's character models and setpieces are polished to the point where reflect the shiny smoothness of toys and action figures, highlighted in the above rainy sequence. Note the rain dripping down the screen.

And then there's setpieces where the game just explodes with color. The hidden Golden Express is pure mouth-watering gold (complete with the aforementioned fireworks to highlight the game's status as a hidden level), wherea lava levels alternate between molten-hot red and delicious, tantalizing blue (often accompanied by a certain music track showcased just a ways down).

Anyone who's played 3D Land should recognize how most of the examples provided above aren't present in the handheld title. What isn't shown are not-so-new levels that while necessary within the sequel context, don't bring much new on their own. For every exciting idea found in train levels (Cat bullet bills!) and Japanese bath houses, you shouldn't expect to see them more than once or twice. Yes, it does a gorgeous job of bringing 3D Land level setpieces into HD, but we've seen these ghost houses before, we've traversed these dessert-themed landscapes before, we've crossed these poisonous swamps before, we've ridden on a sea creature down perilous rivers before. Are they framed in new contexts? Sure, but chances are they've probably originated from earlier Mario adventures (hello, flip switches).

Bosses are also disproportionate in imagination. On the highest end of the spectrum lies the above Motley Bossblob; of course, that it'd use the Double Cherry as the fight's basis guarantees it's success, but look at how inventive it is! The flashy fleshiness of his giant form! The choices of either gunning for his fleeing vulnerable form or hopping on his scattered blobs to reduce his size!

...then you have this Bowser boss, where he rides a sexy giant car to lob bombs at Mario. It's host to the slowest, most boring boss fight in the game in that you have to kick back the bombs while Bowser just chugs along in the car. Within games featuring conflict, cars are generally used to run over people; as this would prove problematic in Mario, it has no option but just to sit there looking pretty. Any other platform could've not only sufficed in hosting Bowser, but to build upon it for a more exciting fight.

World themes, too, face disproportion as like 3D Land, 3D World generally places levels wherever it feels like. This wasn't a problem in 3D Land since most, if not all, of world themes weren't so explicit, but this isn't the case in 3D World. We have explicit takes on ice worlds, deserts, and skies, yet 3D World's sense of progression is totally absent barring the necessary castle level.

Just take a look at the game's biggest thematic folly: World Bowser. Just look at this opening! It's a Bowser-themed carnival hosted by the King of Koopas himself. What an awesome idea! And hey, the first level gets it right: you're infiltrating the carnival via the towers in the outskirts complete with orchestra music! And what follows up is...

A desert slide and a dessert level. Wha?

Progressing through the carnival only brings more disappointment: 3D World introduces circus levels as it's most common recurring trope, yet not a single one of these is in sight! In fact, a good chunk of that amazing shit you see in the opening shot aren't used at all. Instead of being granted rollercoasters, we're treated to the same ol' level tropes that only vaguely relate to evil circus theme.

"What's the big deal," you may ask. It's what I've been arguing all along: the game is far too comfortable with borrowing 2D Mario's sense of bare context. While Mario games shouldn't be bloated with story and dialogue (see Sunshine), that 3D World largely uses familiar world tropes as only crutch as opposed to building upon them (or, y'know, expanding on it's original themes) is a disappointment. The circus does not build upon itself, nor the sky world, or even the ice world. You know there's a problem when a) Super Mario World and even the later NES Mario games excel at this and b) I'm questioning context in a series that's the very definition of "suspension of disbelief". As it is now, 3D World in it's entirety comes across as some sort of gaudy fever dream.

You could say "Well, the desert slide is still a great piece of game design", and so it is. To deny that 3D World isn't designed well is heresy, but that it restricts itself to 2D Mario tropes is what I take issue with. What place do entire levels based around the "race against the clock" concept belong in a 3D platformer, particularly if they're insanely short? Why bother with quick n' dirty enemy blockades? Why include a giant open area in Sprawling Savannah when the ever-present timer naturally deters exploration? Alone, these are nitpicks, but that they keep building and building only serve to prove the game's homogenized nature. That they're included only for the sake of pandering to the 2D titles associates it far too closely with the games in question, and so we lose uniqueness.

So does this mean 3D World is a complete disappointment? Well, not exactly. Yes, 3D World comes up short as an inventive, cohesive title, but that to deny it's status as game designed around providing the player with as many fun scenarios as possible would be, well, rather ungrateful for one and would also undersell how well-designed its stages are. I can't say I agree with how they're fully framed, but these are still Mario levels through and through.

Take the above tribute to Super Mario Kart, for instance. That it takes place in the ice world makes no sense, but the brief time we're granted with it captures Mario Kart brilliantly thanks to the pervasive placement of Boost Pads. That it's combined with bouncy mushroom pads to regain momentum and slides ripped straight out of the Playskool playsets from your youth only seals the deal.

Meanwhile, Sunshine Seaside is absolutely the best beach level in the game due to how involved it is. Echoing some of the collection missions in earlier 3D Mario games, your character of choice has to nab five key coins hidden across the coast. Be it one of the many goodies hidden inside the giant sand statues or breaking up a Chargin' Chuck huddle, there's no stone left unturned. Once complete, you're rewarded with an amazing Plessie ride. Note what's quite possibly 3D World's greatest easter egg: riding around inside Koopa shells. How I'd love to endlessly surf across the stage without the impending ticking of that pesky timer.

And no one could possibly hate the adventures of Captain Toad! These fun breathers from the main adventure take the form of isometric puzzles where the world's most adorable treasure hunter has to hunt down five green stars. It's the one area of the game where the GamePad is put to good use, as the gyroscope is utilized as the camera to help the player navigate and decipher these puzzles. These actually do grow in difficulty and even complexity as the game progresses, and I was always delighted to partake in them.

And once again, my love for the Cat Suit must be elaborated. Say what will you about the actual adventure, but the new suit is undeniably the funnest the Mario gang's had in years. Everything from how the characters prance along to the exact movement of a cat, how they scratch frantically before futilely sliding down walls (leaving loooong claw marks), let out a celebratory meow upon completing a course (or in the case of Toad, the cute little "myew! of a kitten), or even how the developers just added a sneaking maneuver (complete with it's own pounce attack) for no reason other than to be cute just highlights how much fun they had in creating it. Also, Cat Goombas. And Cat Bullet Bills. And Cat Bo...nah, I'll let you find that one out for yourself.

I can't help but resist spoiling one little surprise though. One day I asked myself, "what would happen if I climbed up a clear pipe with Cat Mario?" The picturesque shot above is the result. It's not possible with every clear pipe, of course, and it doesn't even qualify as a shortcut, but it's one of the very few instances of "create your own fun" that 3D World allows. In fact, if you try this in the very first level, you may find a tiny secret hinting the developer knew about this all along.

In that sense, it's best to enjoy 3D World as a "turn your brain off" sorta deal. It might not blow your mind and it's certainly not Mario at his most ambitious, but during the entire time I've wrestled with my feelings over this game, I always ask myself if that really matters. So long as you don't expect anything from 3D World, it works. Maybe not entirely in a way I'd want it to, but even with it's missteps it's still fun and exciting to play.

What can really ease this process is the score. My god, the score. Truth be told, I am growing a little tired of the newer Mario themes borrowing Super Mario Bros. 3's motifs again and again, so I've instead decided to kick off by sharing the game's best boss theme. 3D World apes Big Band music, and Hisstocrat is where that hits its apex. An explosion of drums, trumpets and synth all contribute to the flurry and chaos of that particular boss battle.

While Mahito Yokota takes up the bulk of the soundtrack, veteran Koji Kondo picks up the slack with his new take on the customary Athletic theme (known as Chain Link Charge). As opposed to the typical high-strung energy found in those themes, Chain Link Charge goes for a slower, jazzier tone that I'd imagine wouldn't be too out-of-place in downtown New York. It's certainly the most grounded Athletic, a unique direction that I'd love to see continued in future Mario games.

But let us not downplay the efforts of Mr. Yokota, who's more than proven himself as a master game musician at this point. Fort Fire Bros. presents some of the finest Nintendo flute work in some time, presenting an exotic air alongside the foreboding beat. It works wonders within any of the lava levels it accompanies, but comes across as particularly chilling whenever it's around the shiny new blue ones.

Of course, my favorite has to be the one I've discussed before: Double Cherry Pass utilizes a pair of violins so bouncy and alive that it perfectly taps into that animated Mario zen, rendering any level it accompanies the manifestation of pure joy. That it accompanies the best level in the game (of the same name) is no coincidence, as it heightens the wondrous discovery of the wonderful Double Cherries.

Maybe, for me, it represents a song of forgiveness. I know that Super Mario 3D World is not perfect, and I know I will continue to wrestle with my feelings over it for some time. In an era where Nintendo had to prove the worth of their shiny new GamePad, that it chooses to overly restrict itself by 2D tropes is undeniably disappointing not matter how well it plays.

But whenever I hear this song, I can channel that elusive reverie that I, myself, have been chasing for so long. This may or may not have to do with the fact that the song plays in the level where I can have up to five Cat Marios dance in tune to the music, but that it compels me to forget that and simply do that despite the impending tick-tock of a timer is no small feat.

Perhaps one day, I could simply forget the game's flaws and just play it? In a time where Nintendo is no longer a stranger to HD and downplays wacky gadgets, that may be possible, but that fear of homogenization is a tad too strong now.

Regardless, the game plays well, looks well, sounds well, and, well, manages to make me smile. It may not be my favorite Mario game, but that last factor is a hallmark quality of Mario through and through. And I guess I should be grateful for that. Meow.

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Sorry for the delay, folks! Got too caught up in polishing this before I was satisfied with it. Was I too indecisive? Please let me know!