Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time was the sequel to the enormously popular Konami arcade title, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. While they were only released two years apart (1989 vs. 1991), home videogame technology had progressed dramatically in the intervening years, and Turtles in Time could be ported to the “revolutionary” Super Nintendo, and not the severely compromised Nintendo Entertainment System. As a result, many claimed the SNES Turtles in Time cartridge was the first perfect port of one of Konami’s amazing licensed beat ‘em ups. This became very important in the years to come, as other popular beat ‘em ups from the era, like The Simpsons or X-Men, would not see a faithful port until approximately three console generations later.
Unfortunately, Turtles in Time for the SNES is by no means an exact port. It is a fun, interesting game, but it is also a failure for arcade purity. So what are the differences between the arcade and SNES versions of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time? Well…
This is probably the greatest problem for TMNT:TiT:SNES, and the item most likely to be missed by its young audience. Back in ’92, if you were capable of playing your SNES next to an arcade cabinet, you’d immediately see how so many animations were dropped during the conversion. The turtles themselves lost emotive movements across the board. Each and every boss loses taunting gestures and unique death animations. Foot Soldiers slide from a gang of bullies to identical robots. Even your enemies’ death animations are transformed from teleportation effects to simple, mundane explosions.
And isn’t that always the way? You’re sold on a “perfect” arcade port, but what do you get? A product that is now only south of being perfect, but unmistakably wrong when held up to its remarkable origin. You’re expected to just ignore it. To love it anyway. But you can’t, can you? Now that you know it’s compromised, you’re always going to see the issues, and no amount of extra cannon balls or bonus stages is ever going to change that. Oh, you get Mode 7 on the home port? Bah! Nobody has ever cared about Mode 7, you cop.
Four Players vs. Two Players
Four players is the ideal number of players for a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles beat ‘em up. Why? There are four turtles! This is abundantly obvious, but guess how many turtles can be simultaneously playable in the SNES version? Two. Just two. So, like some kind of wretched Battletoad, the turtles are limited to pairs while recovering the Statue of Liberty from the Foot Clan. Where are the other two turtles while a duo saves the day? Who knows! But they could be right there, just like in the arcade version.
Of course, maybe the lack of four players was a boon for the console version. When was the last time you had four people crowded around your Super Nintendo? Hell, when was the last time you got even two people together to play the same game? And, no, Smash Bros. doesn’t count. I’m talking about a cooperative, multiplayer title that was meant to hold everyone’s interest past the first level. Tell the truth: Portal 2’s coop levels are still sitting there unplayed, aren’t they? Ever actually play with a buddy in those New Super Mario Bros. games? Have you ever seen Luigi? Even once? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Sit down, buddy, TMNT:TiT:SNES just saved you having to affirm how you only have, like, two friends, and they both live in Idaho for some reason. They left you. You are alone. At least one SNES game doesn’t rub it in.
A Whole New Stage!
Yeah, that’s right… The Super Nintendo version isn’t a failure. It’s actually better than the arcade original! What further proof do you need than the Technodrome stage, a completely new level that does not appear in the arcade. It’s got two or three bosses, loads of interesting traps and tricks, and what is a TMNT game without the Technodrome? It was an oversight that such an important locale did not appear at your local arcade.
Except… we did already have the Technodrome at the arcade. It was in the previous game. And, unlike the city street from the second level, there really isn’t that much variety available to the Technodrome. There are a lot of streets and sewers in NYC, but only one Technodrome. And did Turtles in Time ever actually need a Technodrome? We already have the space base of 2100, which, complete with a Krang fight, is clearly the Technodrome expy for this adventure. What does that make the SNES Technodrome level? Nothing. It’s bloat in a game that is already limiting your credits to increase replay/rental value. So, sorry Virginia, there is no Santa Claus, just some Konami director that decided they could bleed a few more minutes out of your life with another superfluous challenge. Do you feel good about finishing that elevator level that took seven seconds to render? Hold on to that feeling, you simpleton.
Just to break up the monotony of your typical beat ‘em up, the SNES version scattered a few bonus levels across the game. In both cases, they are levels that already appeared in the arcade version, but were repurposed for collecting pizza boxes and occasionally dodging enormous pepperoni xenomorphs. Both stages also feature the turtles zooming around on surf/hover boards, so there’s a lovely feeling of speed and urgency, even if you’re stuck in a sewer.
Though these stages aren’t really a bonus, are they? They’re there to break up the “monotony” of a beat ‘em up? What if you actually like playing beat ‘em ups? What if the game you purchased and already played in the arcade was already the game you actually wanted to play? Why would you need some pizza-nabbing mission in the middle of a game about slashing robots to bits? It’s just more busy-work, brought down to the masses so maybe, for one level, you can have a friendly competition with that second (but not third or fourth) player. I’m not even entertaining the possibility that your buddy survived to the second bonus level, 2020 AD. That’s entirely improbable. You’ll be alone again by 2020, just like in real life.
Tokka and Rahzar originally appeared in the arcade pirates-based stage, but they were transported to an earlier (yet somehow, chronologically, later) level when the Technodrome needed a spare boss or two. And who replaced them on the gangplank galleon? Bebop and Rocksteady! And they’re dressed like pirates! They have unique, epoch-appropriate weapons and everything! Leatherhead doesn’t fit his archaic surroundings, but Bebop and Rocksteady (of all people!) know how to cosplay with the best of ‘em.
Of course, some of the other new bosses found on the home console aren’t as creative. The Rat King now leads in the third stage, and he’s riding the Footski, a sort of jet ski-tank. And where did such a thing originate? Well, this vehicle barely appeared in the animated series (and was pretty far off-model when it was showcased in all of one episode), but it was a pretty popular toy at the time. In fact, the version the Rat King rides here is likely wholly inspired by the toy. And why would the generally independent Rat King be riding a Foot Soldier vehicle? Why, it couldn’t be to sell more toys, could it? It couldn’t be because your entire childhood was a lie, and everything you ever loved and adored was a trick to make your parents spend more money on cheap doodads that would inevitably be destroyed when the next piece of plastic crap came along. And that certainly isn’t the same reason Cement Man, an arcade boss that was miraculously never featured as an action figure, was replaced by Slash, one of the most plentiful TMNT figures out there. Why, it almost seems like these new bosses weren’t added to the game to add variety or challenge, but just as more reasons for you to scream at your parents that you need, “More!” right now. Consume, children, consume.
Speaking of popular toys, the finale of the original TMNT: TiT is simply Shredder in the Technodrome (hey, you do get there) menacing our hero turtles with ninja magic or some such nonsense. Back on the home console, the fight is exactly the same, but Super Shredder is your opponent. He powered up to super levels, and now you have to defeat the unstoppable beast that appeared at the end of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret of the Ooze.
The Super Shredder toy was my holy grail when I was about eight years old. I wasn’t a giant Shredder fan, but, for some reason, Super Shredder was never available in my area, so my doting grandparents could never buy me that one toy I wanted. I would have done anything for a Super Shredder! And I had one chance: my dad worked with a guy that had a part time job at the local toy store. Hooray! Surely he would be able to figure out where magical, nearly non-existent toys come from! And one day he called my dad, because two Super Shredders had finally arrived. I was ecstatic, and my father and I rushed to the toy store. And we got it! Happy ending!
I got my toy, but a time later, there was some other toy I wanted, and I asked if my dad’s friend could help with that acquisition, too. My father sat me down and explained he didn’t talk to this former friend anymore. Why? Well, turns out the guy had been arrested. I pressed my dad repeatedly for more information, and he eventually relented. Turns out this malcontent had been caught exposing himself to customers at his toy store job. I was told exactly why that was a crime, and, if I ever saw the scoundrel ever again, I was to get another adult immediately. I left thinking this guy was just some common weirdo, and it wasn’t until years later that I worked out the exact connection between “exposing himself” and “works at a toy store”.
And now Super Shredder always makes me think of that.
So thanks a lot, Super Nintendo version of Turtles in Time.
All the Bosses Have Life Bars!
Argh… I’m… can… can we just take a break? It’s been a while since I really thought about that, and… I… I just don’t feel like talking about… life bars? I’m supposed to be upset about little red squares right now? Don’t they make the game easier? Or at least more transparent? Is comparing the differences between two really similar games all that important at all?
Look, you’re going to finish this article, or next you’re going to review Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Hyperstone Heist, and you’re going to have to talk about how your parents’ divorce meant that you wound up with a Sega Genesis at your father’s house, and you were expected to act like one whole, separate videogame console at each house was some kind of net-good result of your parents loudly and publicly fighting for a decade. Buck up, and brag to all the kids how your life is so great because you can play Mario and Sonic games. You want to acknowledge that this is a direct line to how you still, twenty goddamned years later, hang your own self-worth on how many videogames you own? You want that? You want to go down that manhole?
Can’t I just focus on something fun from that game? Like how everybody inexplicably walks on water?
No. No, you will talk about childhood trauma, and you will revel in it.
Okay, fine. I’ll finish the damn comparison. What’s next?
The unique Boxing Bots are replaced by Roadkill Rodneys
Um. That’s pretty much the extent of that. Like, one useless robot got swapped for another. Does… anyone care about that? Did anyone actually notice? There are some other Foot Soldiers that only appear on the console, too. Are we going to cover those? No? Okay. Can we move on to the next item and get this list over and done with?
There’s a Throw Move! And You Need it to Beat Shredder!
Ugh, Shredder again. I thought we were done with that guy. But I guess it makes sense that you have to fight the Turtles’ ultimate rival twice in the same game. And it makes a certain amount of sense that, rather than figure out a new boss pattern, Shredder would appear as the game’s one and only puzzle boss. Not that a puzzle boss makes any damn sense in a beat ‘em up, anyway. Just one more stupid speedbump on your way to an ending that is equal parts unnecessary and unimaginative. Wow. You won. Here are the turtles on a blimp. Whoopee. We done here?
Time Trials! Versus Mode!
Nope. We’re done. Game over, turtles.
FGC #471 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time
- System: Arcade and Super Nintendo. Duh.
- Number of Players: This has been covered.
- That went to some dark places: Okay, full disclosure, I worked out the skeleton of this article while flying economy over the Atlantic Ocean. If you’ve never had the pleasure, it’s about nine hours of inhumane discomfort, and the only reprieve from the overwhelming torture is the occasional lukewarm hot pocket. Playing a once beloved game while crammed into one of those unfortunate little chairs is… a singular experience. It put me in a bit of a mood.
- But you still like the game, right? Oh yes. Playing the arcade version and SNES version back to back really drives home how the SNES version is objectively better. There’s more content, it has more opportunities for pizza, and it’s pretty clear the “difficulty” was adjusted to be something that wasn’t merely a quarter killer. There’s a real rhythm to the home version that isn’t there in the more chaotic arcade title. And the arcade version at least looks pretty.
- How About that Versus Mode: Just play Tournament Fighters. This engine was never meant for direct competition. Or, heck, play that Time Trial mode. You can get the highest score! I know you can!
- Favorite Turtle: If you can’t tell from the screenshots, it’s Donny. That bo staff is the bee’s knees.
- Did you know? I occasionally vacillate on the plural of “ninja”…
But I know that ain’t right.
- Would I play again: Certainly. I would like to get some friends over for it, but I could deal with a solo outing every once in a while. I’m quite happy playing by myself, thank you.
What’s next? Random ROB has chosen to sit it out while Wankery Week returns for the annual Valentine’s Day (Week) special! We’re only covering one wankery game this year, but it… Well, I can’t say it’s really any good. But it exists! So please look forward to it!