The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening Review (Hey Poor Player)

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I meant to review the original Game Boy game back when I still pretended this blog had a future, but, well, life happened. I hope this makes up for it.

Super Kirby Clash Review (Hey Poor Player)

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I wonder if I'll ever unlock everything in this.

Fire Emblem: Three Houses Review (Hey Poor Player)

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I just started my fifth playthrough -- the Crimson Flower route, where the new DLC's utilized to its fullest.

Now that I know the full context, I can claim with full confidence that Rhea is crazy.

Dr. Mario World Review (Hey Poor Player)

 

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Monetization aside, I liked this more than most.

Crypt of the Necrodancer: Cadence of Hyrule Review (Hey Poor Player)

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This review represents a shift of direction for my writing career: from now on, you can expect reviews of newer Nintendo games to exclusively feature on Hey Poor Player. Aside from huge games in the vein of Zelda: Breath of the Wild or Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, I wanted to evaluate new releases some time after release for two reasons:

1) To accommodate DLC updates in gameplay additions and polishing; therefore, I'd analyze the game in its final, truest vision.
2) To allow my opinion to settle and percolate after launch, letting it evolve past the honeymoon phase.

With my recent decision to scale back reviews here, however, I've recognized this is the most vital step into blossoming as a proper game journalist. For far too long I've neglected to cover newer releases as I've silently pursued ambitious goals for the sake of writing for myself. I simply work far more diligently under journalistic obligations, and with the evidence lying within my Hey Poor Player output, I'd like to think things can only go up from here.

And yes, this means the Nintendo pages in my reviews sections here will be updated accordingly. I'll be working on that over the next month, so stay tuned.

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.

Yoshi's Crafted World Guide (Hey Poor Player)

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I'm way late in sharing this here, the reason being I initially wanted to archive it after all the relevant work was complete. However, with the missteps and lessons involved, we still got a ways to go on that, so here we are.

And yet for all our trials and tribulations, we still struck gold -- I'm just as shocked as you to learn our Yoshi's Crafted World guide has, in total, accumulated over 100,000 views. It's a unprecedented milestone for Hey Poor Player, as the site's never reached this level of consistent traffic. Heck it's even earned the site another much-needed Google search suggestion! 

I had previously discussed my apprehensions towards this blog's future, but more than anything else, this project has rendered my presence on Hey Poor Player a top priority. Much as my passion lies within meditative escapism and retrospections regarding video games, I'm further recognizing just how vital it is to market myself via a constant presence within the public sphere, and as it currently stands, Leave Luck to Heaven cannot provide that.

Again, this is hardly to say it's curtains for the blog, let alone further contributions for said retrospection -- let's not forget I'm currently covering 80's gaming! -- but for the moment, I'm still evaluating what it truly means to be a gaming enthusiast/blogger, and so I have no choice but to re-prioritize my output here. Putting it this way: when I'm also juggling reading, political studies, exercise, and self-studying Japanese, I can't afford to beat myself up over unrealistic goals for the sake of writing for myself.

What this new direction will entail remains in gestation, but for the moment, you can expect some page re-structuring over the summer. I'll also probably establish a Mission Statement/About Me section or something that'll further outline my goals, so look forward to that.

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.

8-Bit Chronicles: Sky Skipper (Hey Poor Player)

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Diving into Nintendo history is always a pleasure, especially when it involves a long-lost golden grail such as this. Man, if I could ever achieve what those guys at Sky Skipper Project did...

Contrary to the "good" rating below, I was bit harsher than it deserved. It's weird as all hell, but it's not bad. Really. It just takes time to get used to.

8-Bit Chronicles: Donkey Kong

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Hello, and welcome to my new Hey Poor Player column: 8-Bit Chronicles, wherein I analyze classic arcade-munchers of the 80's! Giving I already host another column (Sleeping With The Enemy), I'm certain this is rather left-field, so let's break down how this came to be and what it'll entail.

As readers may recall, I announced last fall I'd be covering Arcade/8-Bit video games after 2019's New Year. The reasoning was simple: given their brevity, they'd serve as excellent outlets for maintaining a consistent writing output. As opposed to the 1500-2000 word caps I typically uphold for Leave Luck to Heaven, these would gravitate towards 1000 words -- a reflection of their pick-up-and-play breadth, if you will.

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 Smash Bros. for Wii U

Notice: Unfortunately, there wasn't time to access my SD-card saved screenshots for this review, so aside from my Miiverse archives, you may witness press screenshots of varying sizes. An error in formatting also excised most of the music links. Please excuse the inconsistency for now.

Again, the same disclaimer found within my Super Smash Bros. for 3DS review applies here: namely, any and all analysis on Super Smash Bros. for Wii U's worth as a competitive fighter shan't be present here. This is not a matter of passive-aggression, but merely one of disinterest, as I simply don't approach fighting games in that manner. Truth be told, however, the "casual" moniker is one I've soured on, as it doesn't accurately convey my relationship with Smash Bros. in the slightest; indeed, as both these reviews prove, my Smash intimacy demands I grant them in-depth evaluations as functioning video games, be it how much I delight in smashing things or the quality of alternative play provided.

And given director Masahiro Sakurai's God-given design philosophies -- "always consider the beginner player" and "make every game as it were your last" -- there is certainly no shortage of that to go around. Like every Smash Bros. before it, Super Smash Bros. for Wii U is my kingdom -- one divided alongside its 3DS cousin, with which it shares the same gameplay engine and massive character roster. Common sense would entail I enjoy this version just as much -- if not more so -- but with an expanded empire such as this, its imperfections become far more prominent. As a self-proclaimed Nintendo fanboy, I am not blind to these faults -- much as I desire for Wii U to be a masterpiece, it only just misses the cut, and that wounds me just as much as I deeply adore it.

Super Smash Bros. for 3DS

Being that I have elaborated on my love for Super Smash Bros. countless times on this blog without having penned a single review, it's imperative I open this essay with an admonition: namely, I do not possess any interest in a fighting's game competitive depth. This is not a passive-aggressive jab against others' personal tastes -- I've long since stopped begrudging those for their preferences, as I was one of those who conflated vitriolic attacks on post-Melee iterations/series director Masahiro Sakurai with the competitive fanbase at large -- but the point is, whether or not the latest iteration of Smash Bros., Street Fighter, a Dragon Ball game or even a debut in last year's ARMS presents offensive or defensive playstyles or sufficient movement options are matters beneath my notice. This is not a matter of willful ignorance; they're simply not things I have an eye for.

Nay, my occupation with fighting games lies in three factors: a) whether it's fun hitting things, b) whether they maintain -- at least on a base level -- a functioning combat system, and c) if they possess enough content otherwise to keep me interested. Admittedly, this isn't always upheld across the board -- the Smash Bros. apologist in me can admit even now that tripping in Super Smash Bros. Brawl was a fundamentally bad concept, even if I don't personally care about it -- but the point is, not much of that is very different from what the general gaming media typically elaborates upon in fighting games; in other words, if you're looking for a systematic breakdown of Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and 3DS as fighting games, I suggest you look elsewhere.

Detective Pikachu

Warning: While I don't outright ruin anything like "whodunit", my discussion of the story does imply some things; in other words, reader discretion advised.

The oddity of my first Pokémon review being a spin-off is duly noted, particularly considering that aside from Pokken Tournament DX, the last one I recall engaging with was the first Mystery Dungeon back in 2006 on Game Boy Advance. Still, you can't deny the appeal of Detective Pikachu: as anyone familiar with Meowth from the long-running cartoon will tell you, this is hardly the first time we have witnessed a talking Pokémon, but it's how this particular critter conducts human speech and mannerisms; namely, the adorable series mascot in Pikachu belting out a gravelly, world-weary vocalization and expressing fondness for women and coffee. Also, he's a detective.

A key sign of both The Pokémon Company and its home developers in Game Freak and Creatures relaxing regulations in the face of Pikachu's enduring popularity, which is a direction we should all celebrate. While thankfully nothing reaches beyond a G rating, Detective Pikachu's eye-grabbing concept is unlike anything the series has ever accomplished before: there's no starry-eyed youths seeking adventure, but a young adult cast on the job; no far-off dreams of being No. 1, but personal drive and soul-searching to discover oneself. All hardly adult, yes, but new territory just the same.

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.

The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past

How does one define perfection in video games? Is it recognizing how one game brilliantly executes its main goal? Is it simply returning to a childhood favorite again and again? Or, perhaps, is it something as broadly simple as doing everything right? In that case, it's difficult to imagine anything more perfect in the Zelda pantheon -- or perhaps even all of Nintendo's library --  than The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. There are a variety of reasons for this, but more than anything, it's timeless in its accessibility. Consider this quality when when juxtaposed to Zelda's other masterworks: Majora's Mask -- which I still consider the the series apex -- demands an entirely different style of play that can be too stressful, Breath of the Wild and even this game's sequel in A Link Between Worlds may stray too far from the series formula for some, Ocarina of Time suffers from the same graphical degradation as the rest of its respective generation, and The Legend of Zelda is too archaic and impenetrable by today's standards.

Only Link's Awakening for Game Boy may match it here, and as masterful as that game's bittersweet balance of infectious light-heartedness and gradual melancholy is, A Link to the Past is instantly superior for presenting the greatest opening in series history -- as far as Nintendo games go, only Super Metroid and Metroid Prime may surpass it, and A Link to the Past may even trump those with its own title opener. After the Nintendo logo flickers on screen with the gentlest of harps, a majestic three-dimensional Triforce morphs into shape, embedding within the game's logo as the Master Sword pierces through, a triumphant score celebrating our arrival into the latest Zelda adventure.

Metroid

To discuss these Nintendo progenitors is something of a difficult task: much as I adore the likes of Super Mario Bros. and The Legend of Zelda, for instance, they've certainly been outstripped not merely by modern standards but in their own successors. While Super Mario Bros.' immaculate design renders it just timeless enough to be accessible even to modern audiences, however, the same can't be said for The Legend of Zelda -- it certainly remains a masterpiece for those wishing to invest time into it, but barring one's possession of an NES Classic and its instant save states, its cycles of punishment and foraging fare quite poorly against the conveniences of today.

Much like The Legend of Zelda, Metroid is also often cited as an impenetrable classic -- the game is hard-as-nails difficult, thinking little to nothing of the player's morale. The overall "maze" design, while taking care to distinguish Planet Zebes's underground sectors from one another, does not establish the same philosophy with its room design and we're left with a homogeneous, indistinguishable look that's prone for disorientation. There are various reasons for this -- Metroid had a particularly troubled development, for starters, and the game as we know it today only came together in the final three months of development -- but let's be honest: it's not as if Metroid was the only 80's game that employed similar tactics, and I'd like to think the game still holds up regardless. Being a Nintendo historian, it's easier for fanboys like myself to overlook such flaws for the sake of research and personal amusement, and Samus Aran's first adventure is hardly an exception.

Star Fox

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.

WarioWare Gold Review (Hey Poor Player)

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Ahh, the return of WarioWare! It's so good! With so many terrible things happening in the world now, I can at least take solace in that this exists, and it is good.

...and that Super Smash Bros. Ultimate is coming. That Direct was the stuff of dreams -- despite not knowing even a third of the soundtrack, already I'm planning out the My Music selection. Hosting series music between stages is such a dream come true! Oh, I can't wait, I can't wait!

WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgames!

I love, more than anything, dumb absurdist humor. Much as I've elaborated on here about my cherished qualities of meditation and reflection, I am an absurdly silly human being, and take pride in my humor. As a child, randomness was a championed quality of mine not merely in making others laugh, but my channeling said randomness into the written word was how I discovered my destiny as a writer. It is how I still recognize the earlier seasons of SpongeBob Squarepants as some of the finest examples of animation ever crafted, the Canada episodes of South Park as proof Trey Parker and Matt Stone have the greatest jobs in the world, and perceive the impending arrival of Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus as nothing more than divine intervention for the sake of today's youth.

When considering all that, Nintendo throwing me a bone with WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgames! in the midst of those halcyon days is nothing more than fate. It is extraordinarily, gut-bustingly funny, combining absurdist Japanese humor with the grossness of Nintendo's crudest mascot. It is only sensible Wario would be responsible for this madness: Mario's twisted doppelganger has always elicited a sense of self-centered absurdity, and so it is his natural duty to present the inner mechanizations of him and his buddies, be they for greed or the expression of art. Mostly greed, yes, but I'd like to think there is an inherent art in picking your nose.