Tag Archives: PC

FGC #581 NieR Replicant ver.1.22474487139…

Note: This post will involve a lot of spoilers for any game with “NieR” in the title. It’s unfortunately inevitable, and if you’d like to go into the franchise “clean”, I would recommend avoiding this article. Or don’t, and realize why you should play all NieR. Regardless, you’ve been warned.

Silhouettes on the ShadeLet’s settle this right now: which is better, Papa Nier or Brother Nier?

I don’t consider myself to be an expert on much (absolute lie), but I do consider myself to be an expert on the subject of all things NieR(s). I even occasionally remember to capitalize that R at the end! But, to be clear, I am not an expert on NieR because I somehow dedicated myself wholly to the game in an effort to make that one video on Youtube with all the glaring errors…

No, I consider myself an expert on NieR because NieR makes you play the game way too much. You have to complete like half the game four times to get the initial four endings?! And now there’s another one that requires even more playing of the same content? Dammit! I don’t know how your memory works, but I can safely say that after playing the same scenes over and over again, I’m pretty sure I’ve got half the script memorized (or at least everything Kainé says. I’m afraid of her calling me a little bitch for not listening). And now NieR Replicant ver.1.22474487139… has got me playing it all again! A bunch of times! Bah! I’m going to start waving around a phoenix spear if I have to gather those memory alloys one more time.

But there is a significant difference between the NieR I played in 2010 and the remake released eleven years later: Nier is different. Nier was originally conceived of as a brother to a doting sister, but was remade into a Sad Dad for his visit stateside. This meant that “Papa Nier” became the Nier most familiar to American (and Goggle Bob) audiences, while “Brother Nier” was a wholly Japan-based creature. Now Brother Nier is here in the spotlight, and Papa Nier is seemingly erased from history (again). And that can mean only one thing: it is time for them to fight!

So which Nier fits the world of NieR better? Let’s go head-to-head with Brother and Papa variants!

FGC #565 Beast Wars: Transformers

Transform!When I got married this past Fall, my (moments later) wife noted as part of her wedding vows that she would never understand the difference between Voltron and a Transformer. This is obviously an absurd issue that speaks to the fact that my beloved may have some manner of brain damage (I love you, honey, but if you can’t tell the difference between a robot lion that transforms into the leg of a giant man, and a robot lion that transforms into a regular-sized man, I really don’t know what to tell you) , but it is also a fine illustration of my love of Transformers. I’ve been collecting the little weirdos since I was a child literally praying to assemble all of the Predaking pieces, and, to this day, I am allowed one stupid Transformer purchase a year (because if I bought them as often as my impulsiveness demands, I would be literally drowning in the suckers)(and “drowning in useless media” is reserved for videogames in this house, natch). So big surprise here: I love Transformers.

And my favorite Transformers? Well, that would be the Beast Wars generation, a group of Transformers that have rarely been seen since the late mid-to-late 90’s. And despite my love for the characters, I have had a rough time over the years determining the exact origin of that affection. Was it a matter of timing with my childhood? No, I was the right age to be imprint on Grimlock, not Dinobot. Was it a love for 3-D animation? No, I kind of hated the brown, blocky aesthetic of Beast Wars. Was it an overabundance of affection for Waspinator, and everyone else just got to soak up the residuals? That… might be it. And in thinking about the simple fact that I really do enjoy the antics of the mechanical bug man, I came to one unavoidable conclusion:

I like Beast Wars because its stars are broken.

WeeeeLet’s not mince words here: this should not be a surprise. The essence of drama is conflict, and you are inevitably going to get more conflict when your protagonists and antagonists all equally need therapy. The old, “kiddy” Transformers of the 80’s were predominantly robotic gods that occasionally deigned to interface with humans out of some misplaced feelings for all sentient lifeforms, and, as a result, the majority of them came off as flawless/boring. It is no wonder that the dysfunctional Decepticons, like Soundwave and Starscream, had more of an influence on future generations than the likes of Ultra Magnus and Hot Rod. But that generation features the iconic Transformers that “everybody knows”, so they have been recycled and reformatted hundreds of times over the course of a million reboots. And has that made them any more human as time has passed? Yes, but not nearly to the degree as we saw with a cast of misfits that can occasionally transform into a rat or two.

Speaking of rodents, let us look at Rattrap, one of the stars of Beast Wars. Want to know Rattrap’s deal? He’s a jackass. That is pretty much his entire his personality. He is good at making gadgets and traps (oh, I just got that), but other than that, his main asset seems to be being available to make the occasional cynical remark. Apparently he was envisioned as a sort of “jaded combat veteran” character amongst his more youthful compatriots, but, given his propensity toward some childish antics with Cheetor, he comes off like a skeptical teenager more often than not. And how does that fit in with the rest of the Maximal crew? Well, Optimus Primal is obviously everyone’s barely-holding-it-together dad, Rhinox is the wise old grandpa that talks about the good ol’ days and nature a little too often, and recent adoptee Dinobot is just straight up Vegeta, puttering around talking about how he’s going to be the world’s strongest one of these days when he finally finds his good eye lasers. Then you’ll all see… Then you’ll all see…

And if you missed Beast Wars, please be aware that I just described the good guys. The bad guys are just plain bad guys.

DOOM!Beast Wars started with the rare conceit that the clearly-defined “bad guys” were starting this whole fight from a position of weakness. The heroic crew of the Axalon crash landed with a crew of potentially dozens of sleeping protoforms (Transformer fetuses…. Oh man this is a weird show), while the bad bots over on the Darksyde had an extremely limited crew of six. By the end of the pilot, one of those crew members had already defected. Further exacerbating matters was the fact that at least two of the remaining Predacons were dumb as a bag of hammers, while two other Preds were scheming and plotting against their own commander seemingly for no greater reason than it was a fun way to spend the afternoon. This meant that the Predacons had roughly the same teamwork aptitude as a box filled with rabid weasels hopped up on pixie stix. The Predacons had firepower, but they would have to stop fighting each other long enough to actually use said firepower.

And, yes, at least two of ‘em would wind up taking a mortal volcano bath before they ever pulled that off. Please let us know if lava is wet, Scorponok and Terrorsaur.

But this brings us nicely to the “extra”, later additions to the Beast Wars continuity. Remember those previously mentioned protoforms? Well, anytime the writers wanted to introduce a new character to either faction, a protoform would crash to Earth, and it would be time to learn about all the features of the latest toy. And fun fact? It appears the writers had one question when it came to introducing new characters: how is this guy broken? Literally! Pretty much every character that was introduced after the launch of Beast Wars was physically or mentally damaged in some unique way. Tigatron bumped his head, so felt more at home with mundane, organic cats than his fighting robot buddies. Inferno took it a step further, and was vaguely convinced he was a giant ant, and Megatron was his queen (this was correct, of course, but not in the way Inferno imagined). The rest is darknessBlackarachnia wound up trapped in a spider’s web from day one, and the fuzor twins could not stick to a single beast mode. And one of them had a southern accent! On prehistoric Earth! That had to be the result of a glitch or two. Airazor seemed like the most stable of the newbies, but the writers evidently forgot she existed every other week, so she was suffering through some manner of divine impediment. And we are not even going to acknowledge Depth Charge and Rampage, two Transformers that were (unusual for the series) “born” and fighting before the start of the Beast Wars. One is a rampaging, murderous psychopath that cares only for seeing the destruction of his enemies, and the other one can turn into a tank-crab. They are both about as emotionally stable as your average Stephen King antagonist, so please do not trust either with selling your daughter’s Girl Scout cookies. It will not end well.

But, ultimately, that is the appeal of Beast Wars to this humble blogger. I would not want the cast of Beast Wars, Maximals or Predacons, to be responsible for anything in my life. They are supposed to be saving the Earth? No, that does not sound like a good plan for anybody. But I am very entertained by their antics. As the overarching plot of Beast Wars amps up from “monkey fight dinosaur” to “Megatron has traveled back in time and shot a sleeping Optimus Prime in the face and now you have to deal with that”, you never lose the feeling that the “heroic” Maximals are all about seven seconds from clocking out on this overly-long shift they somehow have been stuck on for overtime they know they’re going to have to fight human resources to even get. The heroes often come off as defeated even before their well-laid plans are disrupted by the villains, but the villains can barely hold it together for longer than seven seconds to actually disturb the ostensible protagonists.

The rest is darkness, againThe cast of Beast Wars? They are a bunch of losers that wound up in the middle of a Transformers war. And I can get behind a bunch of entertaining dunderheads. I like the Beast Wars era of Transformers the most because its stars are all living, breathing (?), mistakes.

Oh, but their Playstation 1 game was a bigger mistake. I don’t like that.

…. Dammit, article is already overly long as is. Guess I don’t have time to talk about the featured game! Clocking out for the day. Sorry!

FGC #565 Beast Wars: Transformers

  • System: Playstation (1) and PC. There’s actually a funny story about that PC version…
  • Number of players: The Playstation version is single player, but the PC version had an 8-player “battle royale” mode. Apparently there were more than a few people that actually liked this mode, and kept online servers going for a while. Or maybe they just liked it ironically? Whatever, who doesn’t want to be Cheetor?
  • Maybe actually talk about the game for a second: Oh, this is awful. It is a primitive 3rd person shooter with just the worst camera anyone can imagine. Someone went ahead and added some “lock-on” targeting so the experience isn’t wholly impossible… but it’s otherwise pretty impossible. I really can’t convey with mere words just how wrong doing practically anything in this game feels, even if you are allowed to choose between playing as either faction. Controlling a giant scorpion should not be this janky!
  • ANTS!Transform!: Oh yeah, most egregious error? You cannot attack in any way while transformed. In fact, the only reason to transform at all is to manage your “Energon Meter”. This makes a certain amount of sense for, like, Rattrap, but doesn’t really feel right for more offensive animals like Rhinox (note for those unaware: he is a rhino). And there are two separate characters that can transform into freakin’ dinosaurs, and all they can do is putter around like the spiders. Do you understand how hard you have to try to make a videogame about occasionally being a robot dinosaur boring!?
  • On the subject of having plans: You have to unlock Rattrap or Blackarachnia, and Airazor/Terrorsaur are only available in “rescue” minigames, but the whole of the stable Season 1 cast is otherwise represented here (Tigatron has never been reliable). Oh, wait, except for one major omission: Waspinator is not present in any way, shape, or form. That poor buzz boy gets no respect.
  • What’s in a name: They spelled Scorponok with an “I” in some of the game materials. I’m not going to say that’s exactly why the poor dummy died at the end of Season 1, but I’m not going to say it wasn’t a factor, either.
  • What’s in a voice: Oh yeah, the voice acting for this game is totally six guys trapped in an elevator recording lines at four in the morning. The original voice cast was apparently not available (or weren’t contractually obligated to participate in an awful PS1 game), so this Beast Wars adventure was voiced by some people that just weren’t into it. Or maybe I’m just focusing on Rhinox here, as he has the timber of a man that doesn’t really want to survive this adventure… or even the next few seconds.
  • Best Transformer Ever: It’s Optimal Optimus, who does not appear in this game. Primal Prime will also do in a pinch.
  • What is even happening?Did you know? There was an episode of Beast Wars that was scrapped because it was too damn depressing. The whole concept was Rattrap was going to attempt to revive Dinobot by forcing his undead spark into an (evil) Dinobot II, but the ultimate moral was to be that Dinobot is 100% dead and never coming back, get over it. … Also, in typing that out, maybe Beast Wars did have a byzantine, maudlin overarching plot…
  • Would I play again: Absolutely not. I want to rewatch Beast Wars, though, so maybe this toy promotion worked out.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Rockin’ Kats for the NES! Let’s rock out with our tails out! Please look forward to it!

Don't pay attention

FGC #516 Celeste

Let's climbWhat does it mean when “difficult” equals “fun”?

Today’s game is Celeste, which Google apparently describes as “A game about climbing a mountain”. Big deal! You climb about seventeen mountains across your average 32-bit JRPG, and it’s hard to even recall how often you are forced to dash across mountaintops in your average platformer. Mario was climbing mountains before he was even born (technically)! But what makes Celeste different from any other trip up some rocks is that Celeste is truly about the challenge of climbing inhospitable terrain. On its surface, Celeste is little more than a basic platformer: you run, you jump, you cling, you dash, and that’s all you got. There is combat in only the absolute loosest sense (maybe you can hop on the occasional angry ghost), and the typical “collectibles” are little more than excuses for challenge rooms. Celeste is a very simple game, so its surface-level description as “A game about climbing a mountain” is very apt. This isn’t a complicated experience for a complicated world, this is climbing a mountain, plain and simple.

But don’t let the simple trappings of Celeste fool you into believing this is a retro title bereft of a plot. Celeste is about climbing a mountain, but, more than that, it’s about a woman learning that she can climb a mountain. Madeline is climbing this mountain, and, when her journey begins, her self-loathing and doubt is so palatable, it transforms into a living entity named Badeline. While Madeline and Badeline initially clash, over the course of the adventure, Madeline comes to accept Badeline, as Baddy was never her evil twin, but a part of herself that she tried to ignore. Once Madeline has accepted herself, “bad side” and all, she levels up as a character and a human being, and gains a second air dash. This is life-affirming and hella sweet. Along her way to self-actualization, though, a number of levels also seem to follow a sort of “lesson” framing, with that previously mentioned angry ghost demonstrating the dangers of putting the needs of toxic people over your own, and another level ending with instructions on breathing exercises that can help mitigate depression and panic attacks. Celeste might have an extremely basic plot, but the narrative successfully turns this simple videogame goal into a story about overcoming challenges both mentally and physically. The mountain is a metaphor!

This is funAnd we’ve seen “the mountain is a metaphor” before on this very blog. There’s another game that sticks in this humble blogger’s head that used the exact same story framing: Catherine. Catherine is a game that is mostly remembered for showing its whole ass with some of the worst sexual politics this side of Persona 5 (gee, wonder if there’s a connection there), but it was also a story about comparing the struggles of Vincent and his dream-mountain climbing to real-life decision making and the trials and tribulations of navigating the dangers of reality. And, if you think that metaphor is simply implied, don’t worry, the writers of Catherine assumed you were an idiot, and framed their story with a character breaking the fourth wall to shout “it’s an allegory!” at all the nimrods that bought Catherine because the logo looked like panties. To say the least, Celeste was slightly more subtle with its morals while maintaining the added benefit of 100% less upskirt camera angles; but it still boils down to the same palpable lesson: you can treat the complications of life like a video game. This mountain may initially seem insurmountable, and you may fall again and again, but you will reach the peak. Whether you’re Vincent or Madeline, you can climb.

But when multiple stories present the moral that you can triumph in real life despite hardships, what does it mean when you play these games to face those “hardships” for fun?

Why compare Celeste to Catherine? Well, Catherine might have an odious plot and tone, but its gameplay is almost wholly different from anything else that has come down the pike in the last decade (and, as you may be aware, I’ve played a lot of videogames over the last decade). The combination of puzzle and action in Catherine is a sweet success, and, while it might be fair to say the writers of Catherine should be shipped off to Penlackicus: The Isle Where Pens Are Forbidden, the gameplay of Catherine is something that can be returned to again and again. It’s unique! It’s frenetic! Occasionally sheep are murdered for their insolence! That’s always a good time (assuming you’re not a shepherd). Similarly, Celeste is an amazing platformer designed by people that understand the genre better than most Sonic curators, and solving each environmental conundrum is as delightful as it is precise. Once you have a full grasp of Madeline’s moveset (and its occasional evolutions), you’ll be revisiting each path to collect a pie’s worth of strawberries not because you have to, but because you’ll want to spend more time bounding and dashing around her world. Celeste and Catherine, two games containing obvious lessons about triumphing over impediments even when such a thing seems impossible, are both games that make those impediments… fun.

NOT FUNAnd, on a personal note, Celeste is the game I played most during the Spring Quarantine of 2020. The world was falling apart in drastically unprecedented ways, I personally had no guarantee whether or not I would have any kind of income from day to day (spoilers for anyone concerned: I made out okay), and there was the threat of a deadly virus striking seemingly at all times. Granted, as I write this article, things aren’t much better, but there’s now a certain kind of uncomfortable familiarity with the situation. Yes, leaving the house is still a gauntlet of social distancing not unlike attempting to dash through a hotel filled with malevolent and deadly energy, but at least it no longer feels like the whole of society is going to gradually slide into the nearest ocean (we have to wait for 2038 for that). Back in March, when everything was unknown and something as basic as “wear a mask” was reported with equal claims of it being our one saving grace and a way to instantly obtain a malady known as “fungus nose”, things were a lot more ambiguous. And, thinking back on that time, I can safely say that I was probably about thirty seconds away from a mental breakdown every moment. I won’t exactly say I was tangibly depressed, but it was more like I was… concerned. Perpetually concerned. Perpetually might-have-a-heart-attack concerned. In retrospect, it was a surprisingly gentle time, as most businesses were closed (so there was little reason to go outside and risk my life for a damn haircut), the concept that someone might be financially hurting was universally understood (extra unemployment and money from a government that was pretending to care about its citizens that week), and, give or take some supermarket meltdowns, people seemed unusually empathetic for a month or so (we’re all in this together!). Maybe it was just an illusion brought on by not having to directly deal with (much of) the public for a month or so, but, in retrospect, the general start of this COVID insanity seemed like it was the best part; something approaching a reprieve before we settled into Let's move itthe usual rhythms of watching our leaders toss more and more “essential” workers into the meat grinder. But when that “reprieve” was happening, it seemed like anything but, as I deal with uncertainty about as well as having a swarm of bees in my pants. March and April’s COVID situation brought me seemingly unlimited stress, and I chose to relax by… playing a game that is supposed to be stressful.

And it eventually dawned on me why I was doing such a thing: even when it seems impossible to make progress in Celeste, even when the next obstacle seems completely insurmountable, even if you’re barely trying, if you fail, at least you won’t lose anything.

And, in an uncertain world, that is infinitely comforting.

Celeste is about climbing a mountain, yes, but the climb happens one screen at a time. Madeline might be required to exhibit some arduous acrobatics, but if she fails, she’s immediately returned to the last place she had even footing. There are no continues that have to be conserved, or lives that have to be limited. While you will lose a strawberry bonus for dying halfway through its retrieval, once you have hit solid ground with your bounty, there’s no way to lose that prize, whether through immediately failing on the same screen, or at some later point in the level. Celeste is also extremely forgiving with save locations, so you can pop into a precise third of a stage if you want to clock in some practice in a particular area. Madeline may become frequently frustrated by the various trials she has to face, but the player is given every advantage in attempting the climb. There might be a number quickly approaching infinity next to that death count, but it’s all worth it if you finish the stage. You won’t be locked out of any future content for burying Madeline more often than the X-Men.

And, hell, I don’t know what Madeline has to worry about. I’m pretty sure I’d be happy as a clam if I mortally screwed up over and over, but came back fresh as a daisy five seconds later every time.

This blowsRemember those uncertain COVID times I mentioned earlier? In the Fall of 2019, I finally took the initiative, looked at my rainy day fund that hadn’t been touched for literally years, and cashed in on remodeling my ancient, remembers-the-fall-of-Napoleon bathroom. It was a lot of money, but I sat down with a ledger, looked at the past year’s profits and losses, and determined it would be a passable expense. I also consulted with my fiancée, who informed me she would leave me if she had to deal with a bathroom that involved a crankshaft toilet one more time. Wait, excuse me, she wasn’t my fiancée at the time. That came later, with the other major expense I picked up in February: an engagement ring. In that case, it was money I really didn’t want to spend, but, hey, I’m pretty sure I love the woman I’m buying it for, and she is a material girl ™ , so may as well make the love of my life happy. So those were two huge, once in a lifetime expenses that I decided would be endurable if typical trends continued. And then a worldwide plague tossed the idea of “typical trends” straight out the window. So, right about when I was concerned that my profession wasn’t as Thunderdome-proof as I might have liked, I also had blown my emergency savings on a sink faucet that doesn’t pour out exclusively spiders (I… really needed that bathroom renovation). Once again, to be absolutely clear, I made it out of that initial quarantine with a job and only a modest hit to my income, but did I know that would be the outcome in March? Of course not. I spent my days worrying over decisions I had made during The Before Time, and I wouldn’t stop worrying until there was a more comfortable “end” in sight. What good is an engagement ring when you can’t support the ones you love? What good is a tile shower in the face of a catastrophe? Can I just reset to a save point from a scant few months prior? Can I get a do-over on this apocalypse thing?

WeeeeeAnd, when I think about it, this is why I play “hard games” when things are stressful. No matter how badly I mess up in Celeste, it’s not going to impact my life. No matter how many times I damn Vincent to death in Catherine, it’s not going to make a dent in my bank account. Every setback in Bloodborne might mean I lose some resources, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to lose my home. Calling a videogame hard is all well and good, but the fact that there are no consequences (maybe beyond losing a few useless hours of actual life) is what transforms “difficult” into “fun”. Drop any consequences for failure, and repeated failures are enjoyable.

The climb is long, hard, and treacherous. But when you won’t lose a thing doing it, it’s fun.

FGC #516 Celeste

  • System: This is another “whaddya got” situation: Steam, Linux, MacOS, Switch, Playstation 4, Xbox One, and certain garage door openers. This one is probably going to get around in future generations, too.
  • Number of players: Maddy rarely enjoys company, as she is a bit of a loner.
  • ScaryFavorite Level: The hotel stage is my uncontested favorite. It has a decent moral, a quasi-boss battle, and I love me some little black ghosty things that don’t allow you to re-traverse certain edges. It all works together beautifully, and seems to encapsulate what’s great about Celeste.
  • So, did you beat it: I’m sorry to say I don’t have every last strawberry, but I’m good with everything else that is going on. Celeste is damn good stuff, and it’s worth triumphing over tribulations to grieve over grandmas. Or… something.
  • Missing Pieces: I completely missed Theo’s explanation of the mountain and its ruined city during my initial playthrough, so I’m pretty sure I assumed the whole of the game was little more than magical realism on my first go. Mind you, that’s still kind of accurate, but Mt. Celeste is apparently supposed to be a “real” location in videogame Canada, not a complete hallucination like my initial impression.
  • Speaking of Dreams: This is the best animation of 2018.



  • Black Lives Matter: Celeste was my go-to “relax during quarantine” game, but it also publically resurfaced recently as part of the itch.io Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality. I will literally never get through the 1,741 bits of software that were included in that bundle, but I enjoy being reminded that that amazing set of games was so successful in raising $8,154,644.19 for a worthy cause. Way to go, Itch.
  • Did you know? M. Thorson made a full thread on Twitter about all the ways Celeste is designed to “feel right” for the player. I’m just going to go ahead and link to it rather than recount the full details, so just be aware that there is an inordinate amount of care involved in the creation of a good platformer. Also, “coyote time” is something that should be applied to every platformer ever. Looking at you, Castlevania.
  • Would I play again: Celeste is platforming comfort food for me. And I feel we could all use a little more comfort right now.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Retro Game Challenge for the Nintendo DS! Speaking of challenges and retro games, here’s… uh… both. I guess. Anyway, please look forward to it!


FGC #510 The Simpsons (Arcade)

Which franchise wound up with the best Konami Arcade Beat ‘em Up? Let’s run the numbers!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1989)

Tonight I dine on Turtle Soup• The quintessential beat ‘em up: this is the licensed arcade game that defined the genre, and arcades, for years to come
• It’s four players, which is always a fun time for everybody. There is no friendly fire, and there are no tangible rewards for scoring better than another player. This is a friendly, cooperative beat ‘em up.
• … Except when your buddy steals a life-restoring pizza out from under you. Then it is on. Let’s take this discussion to the Mortal Kombat cabinet.
• For better or worse, all of the turtles control almost exactly the same. A dedicated herpetologist can probably explain the nuances between a Donny and a Raph, but that’s mostly cosmetic. Four playable characters that may as well be color-swaps of each other.
• Meanwhile, there is a fairly large roster of opponents, they just all look identical. The hoards of Foot Soliders besieging the turtles are nearly all indistinguishable, but their different weapons lead to different attack patterns.
• Past Foot Soliders, there are, like, two other enemies.
• You can fight a sentient brain in a robot wrester’s body.
• Occasionally, there are exploding barrels.
• The skateboarding stage is the most radical thing that happened in 1989.
• TMNT: Turtles in Time should really count toward the turtles’ final score, but playing that game now unearths traumatic memories.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Final Ranking: Two Players out of Four.

X-Men (1992)

Welcome to Die• Six players! It’s double wide for double the fun! … Or at least 50% more wide.
• A handful of “extra” offensive options are available. Most important: you can kick opponents when they’re down. This offers a fun way to gamble on dealing damage (do you target a downed opponent but risk reprisal from the enemies still standing?), and also gives the impression that Scott Summers walks around kicking lizardmen in the junk.
• Characters are varied in visual style as well as special moves. Their common movesets are generic, but those mutant powers? Nobody is going to mistake the frantic teleporting of Nightcrawler for the power surges of Colossus.
• Offers the ultimate in Canadian entertainment: Wolverine versus The Wendigo.
• There are many of the same robots over and over, but there are also plant/dirt monsters, cyborg marauders, tiny dinosaur people, and at least one swarm of angry, robotic bees.
• No Nasty Boys, though.
• You don’t get more iconic than “Nothing moves The Blob!”
• Okay, maybe, “X-Men, welcome to die!” But Blob sells his declarations better than Magneto.
• The extra “mutant power orb” is confusing at best, and a psychological trick designed to ruin a player’s health at worst. It… just doesn’t work that well on any level.
• Only the Japanese version offers health powerups. Nary a pizza to be found for the X-Men.

X-Men Final Ranking: 120 mighty mutants out of a possible 198.

Bucky O’Hare (1992)

That wascally wabbit• This is what we in the biz (there is no biz) call a pseudo-beat ‘em up. All the beat ‘em up trappings are there, but this game is much more shooter than beat ‘em up. This is the unholy combination of Contra and Final Fight.
• And, uh, that’s pretty great.
• However, some of the genre trappings are a little confused, so, for instance, you take damage for simply touching an opponent, which is a bit of a rub in a game that is already a deliberate quarter killer.
• But still, bang bang shoot shoot.
• The playable characters are visually varied, but there are very few practical difference between the cast. This is particularly egregious when at least one of your possible choices is a four-armed space pirate duck.
• Two stages scroll vertically, and a few areas completely descend into shoot ‘em ups. Added variety, or diving into a genre no one asked for? Take your pick.
• The mooks of the Bucky O’Hare universe were never that interesting to begin with, so mowing down waves of identical frogs is less than satisfying.
• Technically created by Larry Hama.
• You’re not allowed to play as Bruce the Betelgeusian Berserker Baboon or, to a dramatically lesser extent, Willy DuWitt.
• Apparently developed by the team that would eventually become Treasure, but I don’t buy it, because there isn’t an exhaustingly long boss rush anywhere in the game.

Bucky O’Hare Final Ranking: 75% of a thinly veiled metaphor for modern consumer culture that absolutely nobody understood because it was immediately merchandised to all hell.

Asterix (1992)

The big guy• Only two players.
• Friendly fire is enabled, which I’m sure seemed like a good idea at the time.
• Asterix and Obelix are very different characters, though with interchangeable controls. They’re simultaneously extremely different but immediately understandable.
• Possibly the most gameplay variety in a Konami licensed beat ‘em up. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles can only dream of chariot racing.
• Literally tossing around your opponents like ragdolls is always going to be fun.
• Opponents can be beaten while they’re down for the all-important purpose of smacking them against other, slightly more conscious enemies.
• Powered up punches are a logical extension of other titles’ super moves, and feel appropriately cartoony.
• Unfortunately, some bosses necessitate powered up punches for a final coup de grâce, and outright requiring a player to do anything in an arcade setting is a black mark against fun.
• Very unfortunately only available in Europe or locally at that one arcade owned by that Agnieszka person… and Agnieszka seems pretty sketchy.

Asterix Final Ranking: Disqualified for not being American enough. Grab some apple pie and get back to our judge’s panel.

The Simpsons (1991)

BLINKER• Four players, and all four are the prime members of the titular Simpsons family. No being stuck with Dazzler here.
• Basic attacks and special moves both differentiate the characters. No one is mistaking Marge’s vacuum cleaner or butt bump for El Barto’s skateboard skill.
• Weapons and items are available frequently across multiple stages. A hammer may be used to brutalize teacups, and Lisa is allowed to fire a slingshot at the Burns Army. The Japanese version even offers the occasional nuclear bomb.
• The Simpsons may combine powers, thus meaning there’s a better reason than usual to encourage additional players to come and bond. What’s more, attract mode and a boss both clue the player into how to properly join forces.
• There are more background gags in this game than most modern episodes of The Simpsons.
• Despite the fairly mundane setting (evil billionaire kidnaps baby, tale as old as time), the various levels are varied and interesting. Moe’s Bar might be a bit longer than it ever appeared in the series proper, but the nearby graveyard is a blast, and the television station includes more robots and ninja than one would expect. The Dream World is the pinnacle, complete with unique enemies, objects, and a bowling ball boss.
• There are two bonus stages that give a humble player the opportunity to completely mangle some poor arcade owner’s buttons. Sorry, Agnieszka.

The Simpsons final ranking: Well, this one is hard to judge, as…

Wait a minute… We have some late-breaking news…


Apparently you can throw a dog at your opponents in The Simpsons, and said dog is just happy to be there throughout the hurling.

Okay, yes, The Simpsons unequivocally wins this competition. Don’t have a cow, man, that’s just how it is.

FGC #510 The Simpsons (Arcade)

  • System: Arcade, but briefly available on Playstation network for the PS3, and Xbox Live for the Xbox 360. It likely disappeared again, though.
  • Number of Players: Four Simpsons. Sorry, Maggie, you have to be the macguffin this time.
  • Port-o-Call: There’s also a MS-DOS version of The Simpsons, and… Well, it’s from that same school of weird photocopying that led to the Mega Man DOS ports. It looks completely correct (for a DOS port from the early 90s), but it feels incredibly wrong (for anything ever). Jump once in that game, and you’ll turn it off in favor of MAME immediately.
  • ZAPAcross the Sea: The Japanese version includes more “weapons”, and hidden spots throughout levels that award fruit and alike. Whether this is because that version was released later or because Konami thought its native players needed more incentive to play a Simpsons game is unknown. What’s important is that Lisa can launch random cherry bombs against opponents, and that’s always fun.
  • Goggle Bob Fact: My grandfather was always happy to provide quarters for his grandson, but was not happy with that Bart character casually utilizing the word “hell”. He would not have granted The Simpson this great beat ‘em up honor (he might have defaulted to Bomberman).
  • Favorite Simpson (this game): Marge. I just think she’s neat.
  • Did you know? There is more than a passing similarity between the final boss of The Simpsons and the final boss of Bucky O’Hare. In both cases, you’re battling the antagonist of the series as a hulking robot that gradually loses parts and morphs into different fighting modes. Then again, maybe this is just a trope of action games, as every game from Smash TV to Three Dirty Dwarves pulls a similar trick.
  • Would I play again: This is the most fun you can have with a Konami beat ‘em up. So says Goggle Bob, who will inevitably play this game with or without friends again. Give it a few months.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Pokémon Gold for the Nintendo Gameboy! That’s the gold standard for Gameboy titles! Please look forward to it!

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