Cryo's Retro Games of the Month (Feb '26)
Previous posts:
January
Cyber Citizen Shockman Zero (SNES)
Week 5: Defeat Galko (Or the 5 pillars).
With such a tropey setup and cast of characters, I was shocked to learn this was the final entry in a wholly original series instead of some adaptation. If you're looking for an arcade platforming experience that's on the more forgiving side, Shockman Zero has you covered to a fault. The overall pacing is refreshingly brisk; your character shows hustle, there's little to punish you for proceeding without maximum caution, and bosses are the perfect balance of simplicity, engagement, and brevity. However, most other arcade-critical elements are lacking in substance. Level design only starts showing teeth by the very endgame, enemy use is dominated by the utterly basic yellow mook, scoring is static besides rewarding you for picking up health items you don't need, and your attack options include a basic combo, a leg sweep, and an aerial attack that combined will see you through every situation. It was a playthrough well spent, but there's nothing here to compel me to come back.
Rayman 3: Hoodlum Havoc (PS2)
Week 6: Finish Clearleaf Forest
With big-budget games in a worse state than ever, I've seen a lot of pining for the 00s golden decade of AA projects. Rayman 3 is here to remind us how that time wasn't without huge problems of its own. In the midst of a culture where any amount of earnestness or whimsy was for gay babies, how do you sell a game taking place in a dreamy world of fairies? By pairing you up with a tutorial character who beats you over the head with the fact this is a video game until you're bleeding out and begging for mercy. When the nonstop 'humor' isn't trying for self deprecation or awareness so bad it'd make a terminally online teenager wince, it still always faceplants thanks to poorly choreographed animations and indistinguishably voiced characters.
The gameplay doesn't fare much better. The 00s were also a time of everyone making 3D platformers, yet nobody really understanding the appeal of the genre's fundamentals (even Mario Sunshine 'getting it' is debatable). The result is a lot of designers imposing gimmicky 'stuff' on top of the skeleton, to wildly variable results. Ratchet & Clank and Sly Cooper came out respectable in my experience; Rayman 3 did not. A designer nowadays would probably see the potential in building the game around using base Rayman's disembodied limbs in combat -- it has a lock-on dynamic similar to Zelda and Metroid Prime but with far greater consideration for the terrain, your attack latency, and faking the enemy out -- but under 00s inconfidence, getting anything done requires using THAT kind of power-up. You know, the kind that's context sensitive and put under constraints so tight you can't use them for anything but precisely the obstacle that was intended? The kind that's an insult to the very idea of a power-up? The kind that marketing can shove in your face as why the character is sooo cool but in practice only reinforces how lame the game considers its character at their baseline? The boss I faced was clumsily built around one, and in a preceding obstacle intended as practice for it, a character viciously mocked me for every failure.
There are glimmers of a game that genuinely wants to exist here. The psychedelic on-rails travel from one world to the next is something I'll never forget, excessive room for error and constant "COOL MUSIC, AM I RIGHT?" quips aside. Environments are stunning in places. We don't need the past for artistry, though; art is always being made. We just need to take more opportunities to spotlight and celebrate the present. Pressures and attitudes of the past can stay there.
The gameplay doesn't fare much better. The 00s were also a time of everyone making 3D platformers, yet nobody really understanding the appeal of the genre's fundamentals (even Mario Sunshine 'getting it' is debatable). The result is a lot of designers imposing gimmicky 'stuff' on top of the skeleton, to wildly variable results. Ratchet & Clank and Sly Cooper came out respectable in my experience; Rayman 3 did not. A designer nowadays would probably see the potential in building the game around using base Rayman's disembodied limbs in combat -- it has a lock-on dynamic similar to Zelda and Metroid Prime but with far greater consideration for the terrain, your attack latency, and faking the enemy out -- but under 00s inconfidence, getting anything done requires using THAT kind of power-up. You know, the kind that's context sensitive and put under constraints so tight you can't use them for anything but precisely the obstacle that was intended? The kind that's an insult to the very idea of a power-up? The kind that marketing can shove in your face as why the character is sooo cool but in practice only reinforces how lame the game considers its character at their baseline? The boss I faced was clumsily built around one, and in a preceding obstacle intended as practice for it, a character viciously mocked me for every failure.
There are glimmers of a game that genuinely wants to exist here. The psychedelic on-rails travel from one world to the next is something I'll never forget, excessive room for error and constant "COOL MUSIC, AM I RIGHT?" quips aside. Environments are stunning in places. We don't need the past for artistry, though; art is always being made. We just need to take more opportunities to spotlight and celebrate the present. Pressures and attitudes of the past can stay there.
Drawn To Life: SpongeBob SquarePants Edition (DS)
Week 7: Complete Lagoon Circus
Drawn to Life seemed like a well regarded name, so I was disappointed to find this game takes its gimmick and coasts on it. This is very much a minimum viable platformer. You can Jump, you can Attack, you can Crawl, there are Coins, there are Enemies, there are Lives. The SpongeBob elements are a strange mix of 'nice touch' and 'clearly done for a quick buck.' For every semi-deep cut like the human arm dragging you off the level goal and having Bubble Buddy as a character template, there's offputting stuff like nobody but Mr. Krabs being written like themselves and Patrick's screams in the opening sounding more like an sheep than anything close to Patrick. Look it up for a laugh; you aren't ready, trust me.
What a gimmick Drawn to Life offers, though. I've had a stunted relationship with creativity over my life, and this game reflected the growth I've experienced. As a kid, I was loath to draw just about anything. I saw all of the infinitely superior artwork and photos around me and decided there was no point once my drawing ability lagged behind other students who found joy in it; it was no longer 100% socially acceptable to suck. I've come to understand the power in just making something exist, though, thanks in part to playing skribbl.io, where making something comprehensible if not stunning is the entire point. In Drawn to Life, there's no progress until you make the crucial elements exist, so might as well do it quickly and see where your spontaneous side takes you, right? I amused and learned about myself far more than I would have predicted.
What a gimmick Drawn to Life offers, though. I've had a stunted relationship with creativity over my life, and this game reflected the growth I've experienced. As a kid, I was loath to draw just about anything. I saw all of the infinitely superior artwork and photos around me and decided there was no point once my drawing ability lagged behind other students who found joy in it; it was no longer 100% socially acceptable to suck. I've come to understand the power in just making something exist, though, thanks in part to playing skribbl.io, where making something comprehensible if not stunning is the entire point. In Drawn to Life, there's no progress until you make the crucial elements exist, so might as well do it quickly and see where your spontaneous side takes you, right? I amused and learned about myself far more than I would have predicted.
Super Bomberman 5: Gold Cartridge (SNES)
Week 8: Defeat The Muscle Bomber in World 3
It's criminal that Bomberman doesn't get more discussion and analysis. It's a long running, iterative series with core game essence as good as the likes of Space Invaders, Pac-Man, and Super Mario Bros. Relative obscurity is the price of mostly sticking to your arcadey guns, I suppose. The mix of emergent decision making, strategic planning, and instinctual reactions is something I caught onto almost immediately, even if my skills weren't up to it yet. RuneScape has given me a fixation on the design potential of more 'digital', tile based obstacles and movement in lieu of analog, omnidirectional, instant options that control sticks gave rise to, and Bomberman is only feeding it. Now that I've gotten a taste of it, I'm eager to play more.
Just not of this entry. Make no mistake: Super Bomberman 5 truly is a game for those who have played at least four Bombermans already. The regular levels are a reasonable enough learning ground, but all too soon you'll be faced with a boss fight, and woe to anyone who isn't a veteran. Unlike the usual 'giant guy who floats around,' this game's bosses are one-on-one VS matches. Except they take multiple hits, while you can't. And they have potent special abilities. And they evade near perfectly. Coming out on top requires shrewd power-up gathering and usage, foreknowledge of mechanics and the boss's habits and few blind spots, and some degree of dumb luck. I'm all for learning under adversity and single-player design that builds PvP skills, but even I think this is a bit extreme.
It would have been easy to tap out. Why stick with a game that's irritating you? You're not planning to get all the Achievement of the Week points anyway. Games are supposed to be fun! But that's a kind of attitude that's holding game discussion and comprehension back. Bomberman was speaking to me through the distress, so I buckled down and leveraged my resources. I thought constructively about my own play rather than cursing the game design, and I looked up all the guides and strategy I could (the best games hold up or lose nothing even when all information is known. Spoiler aversion is a shackle!). When I felt like I wasn't getting anywhere, I stopped and tried again the next day rather than resenting the game for not yielding itself on my terms. I overcame the challenge, and it was worth it! You don't have to torment yourself with games that are offering you nothing in the name of their due diligence, but if you can see the handholds, climb that cliff. If you long for the view, climb that cliff.
Kirby Super Star (SNES)
February: Complete The Arena and unlock the sound test.
Last time I played Super Star, I didn't have a particularly good time. This was weird, considering Ultra was my formative Kirby game. I still need to play Ultra again to figure out if the issues still exist, but I've at least figured out what they are this time around.
What I've discovered is that modern Kirby doesn't get enough credit for ironing out enemy interactions without feeling patronizing. In Super Star, enemies attack with little to no warning, sometimes subjecting you to several second hitstun or even grapple animations. This wouldn't be a big deal on its own, and it generally isn't in the first half of the game, but Revenge of Meta Knight and Milky Way Wishes feature increasingly cramped level design and enemies camping right outside doors; getting smacked is inevitable. Well okay, can we be proactive? Unleashing all sorts of attacks with copy abilities is what Super Star pioneered, after all. Well, that's the next issue: enemies constantly feel a hair tankier than they should be. The average dash attack is not enough to KO even commonplace guys like Sir Kibble, leaving them to punish or collide with you once your i-frames end. The whole experience feels at odds with itself in multiple subtle ways, made worse by Kirby's higher inertia and 'stickiness' than in later entries.
Having to complete the Arena made me also realize the standard template for the mode isn't... great? A huge part of Kirby is experimenting with abilities, right? Yet so, so few are actively fun to boss with, despite the freedom to choose any to start an Arena run. Hammer is largely correct for quick melee, and Plasma is correct for safety plus reasonable speed at the expense of your thumb. Most other abilities lack high on-demand damage, being built around either piddly projectiles or rooting you in place. They aren't made with significant downtime and huge moving hitboxes in mind. It's giving me a greater appreciation for Forgotten Land; there may only be ten 'real' abilities, but each is carefully considered for its potential in 3D space and combat niches. A game that tempers the expectation for cramming Stuff in is better off for it, go figure.
I'll also note that while I've come around to Super having superior aesthetics to Ultra overall (the prerendered elements, rounder sprite style, and heavier saturation grant a lot of punch), its cinematics feel abrupt and unpolished. While you definitely lose something with Ultra's FMVs, they're properly paced for delivering their cute stories.
What I've discovered is that modern Kirby doesn't get enough credit for ironing out enemy interactions without feeling patronizing. In Super Star, enemies attack with little to no warning, sometimes subjecting you to several second hitstun or even grapple animations. This wouldn't be a big deal on its own, and it generally isn't in the first half of the game, but Revenge of Meta Knight and Milky Way Wishes feature increasingly cramped level design and enemies camping right outside doors; getting smacked is inevitable. Well okay, can we be proactive? Unleashing all sorts of attacks with copy abilities is what Super Star pioneered, after all. Well, that's the next issue: enemies constantly feel a hair tankier than they should be. The average dash attack is not enough to KO even commonplace guys like Sir Kibble, leaving them to punish or collide with you once your i-frames end. The whole experience feels at odds with itself in multiple subtle ways, made worse by Kirby's higher inertia and 'stickiness' than in later entries.
Having to complete the Arena made me also realize the standard template for the mode isn't... great? A huge part of Kirby is experimenting with abilities, right? Yet so, so few are actively fun to boss with, despite the freedom to choose any to start an Arena run. Hammer is largely correct for quick melee, and Plasma is correct for safety plus reasonable speed at the expense of your thumb. Most other abilities lack high on-demand damage, being built around either piddly projectiles or rooting you in place. They aren't made with significant downtime and huge moving hitboxes in mind. It's giving me a greater appreciation for Forgotten Land; there may only be ten 'real' abilities, but each is carefully considered for its potential in 3D space and combat niches. A game that tempers the expectation for cramming Stuff in is better off for it, go figure.
I'll also note that while I've come around to Super having superior aesthetics to Ultra overall (the prerendered elements, rounder sprite style, and heavier saturation grant a lot of punch), its cinematics feel abrupt and unpolished. While you definitely lose something with Ultra's FMVs, they're properly paced for delivering their cute stories.
