Tag Archives: trophies

FGC #626 Kirby and the Forgotten Land

Good day and welcomeAll I want is a hungry lil’ dude.

Noted friend of Gogglebob.com and professional Digimon enthusiast Abby Denton recently posed a simple question: “So pitch Kirby to me. What’s that guy’s deal?” And, while my response was pretty straightforward (see the opening sentence up there), the question itself did cause some inner turmoil. What is Kirby’s deal? A Kirby game is unmistakably a Kirby game, but what makes it unique from everything else out there? Mario runs and jumps over unique environments. Link explores a world while stabbing at skeletons. Sonic must move at a speed of significant intensity. Kirby? Is his source of individuality his copy ability? No, Mega Man has been doing that since before Kirby ever squeaked a squad. Beyond that, Kirby’s identifying distinction is…. What? That he can fly at will? An unmistakable love of food? His ability to “right back ‘atcha” any and all opponents? Wait. Does that last one mean he is responsible for “counter based” gameplay? Is Kirby the Dark Souls of Nintendo characters?

Today’s game is the Dark Souls of the Kirby franchise Kirby’s official foray into the world of 3-D. Or maybe that already happened? No… any recollections of multiple dimensions of Kirby racing around on stars is clearly a false memory. This is the first time Kirby has explored huge, open environments in a 3-D space. This ain’t Kirby: Breath of the Wild, but it is an excellent opportunity for Kirby to exist on a planet that allows for our favorite puffball to truly experience the life of a sphere. Little dude has to run, jump, and suck through a series of 3-D “challenge levels” that may also contain secret collectibles, hidden paths, and a whole host of rivals. All your old friends (like the petulant penguin and the crying tree) are here in this world, and Kirby even has a few new copy abilities to exploit in this brand-new world. And mouthful mode! Kirby has wanted to be a car ever since he swallowed a tire so long ago, and now there is a legitimate reason to race a bomb block to the nearest prize! Technology finally caught up to Kirb!

It's dark hereAnd, in a lot of ways, that is the crux of Kirby and the Forgotten Land: technology can finally support a 3-D Kirby adventure. This is not the same “3-D Kirby Experience” that would have been Kirby’s jump to the third dimension 20, 10, or even 5 years ago. This is not the Mario 64 of Kirby games, this is a game that looked to the likes of Super Mario 3D Land after Mario himself spent 15 years working out the kinks of what does and does not work in a 3-D space. This is a game that very deliberately pioneered “well that counts” style gameplay where if it looks like Kirby should have made that jump or hit that enemy, well, that counts. In short, Kirby and The Land After Time is a good game not just because it successfully ported the puff into a new environment, but also because it is the end result of two decades’ worth of designers learning from the games that came before. Kirby is exploring the far-future of a human-dominated world through the immediate future of game development!

But that brings us back to the central point: Kirby and the Forgotten is not simply a good videogame, it is a good Kirby game. And why does this never-to-be forgotten land nail Kirby so perfectly despite shedding his native dimension?

This looks painfulKirby has obviously been nerfed for this adventure. His floaty jump no longer allows completely unfettered altitude accumulation, and all that flapping around seems to tire Kirby out a lot faster than in any previous title. Additionally, while Kirby’s signature spit is as powerful as ever (and seems like the obvious win button for the first time since Plasma made the scene), his various copy skills all feel like shells of their former selves. Where Kirby Super Star would offer as many options as there are directional buttons back in 1996, 2022 offers a “fire attack” that barely includes the fireball dash. The upgraded abilities are a neat bit of potential permanency in a franchise that rarely sees the need to “level up” as Kirby progresses, but, let’s be real here: about half of these upgrades are “exactly the same thing, but now a tiny projectile pops off”. And while we’re on the subject of “exactly the same thing”, barely enough sub bosses to fill out a string quartet made the jump to this dimension, and the big bosses are more plentiful, but extremely similar. The same franchise that initially gave us a battle against a tree, Lolo, a shoot ‘em up blimp, and an extremely pissed cloud is now offering a big animal person with strong attacks, a big animal person with fast attacks, a big animal person with weird attacks, and, finally, a big animal person with big, fast, and weird attacks. And that tree from the first game is back, because I guess thematic consistency is nothing before tradition. In short (ha!), even when Kirby and the Overlooked Earth is following Kirby tradition, you can see where it falls short.

What was the point?But even if you slice a few choice cuts off a steak, you still have a steak (and one would have to assume Kirby enjoys steak as much as tomatoes). The basic gameplay of Kirby is still untouched here, and it sure seems like that is how you define a “true” Kirby game. Yes, other videogame stars run, jump, and/or copy abilities. But Kirby? That little dude has a weight about him that has been consistent for decades. He has a health meter that (give or take nightmare mode) means you can survive if you decide your strategy is going to be “stand there like an idiot and keep slashing”. He might not always have “jet” or “ghost”, but “ice” and “hammer” are pretty reliable. And, right from the first time Kirby bit down on an invincible lollipop, every Kirby game even seems to include a new and exciting way to completely wreck the place… even if that means you have to become a vending machine.

So you want to know the pitch for Kirby? Here it is: it feels good to be Kirby. No matter where he goes or who he has to fight, Kirby is Kirby, and it is a blast to explore a world with the pink guy. You can run, jump, attack like the other guys, but Kirby always does it like Kirby, and he does it well.

Kirby is just a hungry lil’ dude. And it’s good to be a hungry lil’ dude.

FGC #626 Kirby and the Forgotten Land

  • System: Nintendo Switch exclusive. The Playstation 5 just can’t handle this much sucking.
  • Number of players: Two player cooperative! I asked my wife to play, but she was afraid it would lead to a fight when I just ran off and she was left behind to fester. She was probably right.
  • Favorite Copy Ability: Hammer, but specifically with the Bonkers upgrade. I like ‘em slow and strong.
  • WeeeeeeeStory Time: So I was expecting there to be an explanation for what happened to this now-ruined “Earthy” culture. I, however, was not expecting a possible canon explanation for a super boss that previously only appeared as a random “color swap” in a previous Kirby game’s optional boss rush. There is now no doubt in my mind that there’s someone on the Kirby staff obsessed with justifying all the wannabe Kirby conquerors throughout the franchise.
  • Boss Rush: Speaking of bosses, I generally enjoy a good boss rush. However, KatFL finds a number of reasons to include a boss gauntlet through the final levels, and then revisits all the bosses in super forms for the nightmare mode. This makes the traditional “Kirby Arena” seem entirely perfunctory, as there are already reasons to beat down that gorilla repeatedly well before there is a timer available for your troubles.
  • Platinum Trophies: I enjoy the “waddle dee achievement” system in the main levels. I distinctly appreciate “dumb” achievements in videogames, and have vaguely been begging for “I stood on that thing” or “I found that secret passage” recognition from the game itself since I was a kid. It feels like a weird kind of acknowledgement from the developer, and I feel a deeper connection to games that recognize… that I have OCD. And half the fun of those things is that you are not given a checklist, you just find something, and then you see that there is recognition for it. Half of these Kirby “achievements” could just be another waddle dee cage in the secret cave listed in the achievement, or a cage that disappears when you fall in lava and “miss” the challenge of not doing so… but I’m fine with it just being a message and +1 on the stage score card. And I also appreciate that, if you clear a stage without accomplishing “the cool thing”, you will receive a hint to what you are supposed to do. I remember Kirby’s Dream Land 3. I remember looking at a FAQ over and over again with the question of “what the hell was I supposed to do to make this flower happy?” I appreciate the hint, even if it does come off as a checklist for revisiting a stage, as it saves me having to be completely stuck and consulting an outside source. In the end, I’m as happy with this system as a waddle dee being freed from their cage.
  • Watch it, Buddy: We played Kirby and the Forgotten Land as part of a stream, because absolutely everything else on my Nintendo Switch is garbage.

    I apologize for the frame rate. It was a rough night for OBS.

  • Did you know? Absolutely everything about Kirby “mouthful mode”ing a car, and then successfully driving said car, raises more questions than can ever be answered.
  • Would I play again: I really like this game/world, but it does feel a bit short. It needs a little more… even if “a little more” is just “an alternative to seeing Mr. Frosty again”. I am hoping for DLC. If we never see such, I am hoping a future Kirby game builds off this very sturdy foundation. So, yeah, I’ll probably play it again, but I am more hoping for Kirby and the Forgotten Land 1.5 than anything.

What’s next? Random ROB is taking some time off as we transition over to the Wild Arms 3 Let’s Play. I only have so much time to do videogame stuff! And Let’s Plays are complicated! I do plan on randomly posting FGC articles as the mood strikes me during this time, but the usual “Monday update” will be Wild Arms 3 Let’s Play chapters. At least that is the plan! We’ll see what happens! So please look forward to it!

Big ol' tree

FGC #223 Lollipop Chainsaw

Pedal alongThere are four games that I have 100% “platinumed”. For those of you that blissfully missed the current gaming climate of “achievements” and “trophies”, that means there are four games on the Xbox 360/Xbone/Playstation 3/Playstation 4 that have sucked up enough of my time to accomplish 100% completion. Two of those platinumed games are Final Fantasy 13-2 and Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy 13. That factoid probably surprises no one. Then we’ve got Saint’s Row IV, a game that begged to have every last bit of content squeezed out of its delicious fruit of gameplay. I’d follow that game to Hell and back… and that’s kind of appropriate given its sequel/expansion. And then the final game that I have ever 100% completed is…

Lollipop Chainsaw.


I… find that odd.

Lollipop Chainsaw turned me off at its initial release. As much as I love a good Suda game (okay, we’re basically talking about Killer7 and No More Heroes here… does Contact count?), Lollipop Chainsaw looked a little too… is “lol random” an appropriate adjective? Oh, look, it’s a cheerleader with a chainsaw fighting zombies through an American high school. Is… is it supposed to be a parody of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Wasn’t that basically a parody in the first place? Or is it closer to the Buffy source material, and an inversion of the typical teen slasher film? And I’m sure that it’s just a coincidence the plot allows for the heroine to wear the world’s shortiest skirt. Pass.

So then I bought it anyway, because, as we’ve discussed, I will buy anything during a sale. This… also might be why I own every other Suda51 game…

RAINBOWWith Lollipop Chainsaw now loaded into my Playstation 3, I was finally able to look past the generally off-putting cover, and experience the game itself. And, while I’d love to make this another article about the glories of looking past first impressions and discovering the delicious center of this onion we call life, I quit Lollipop Chainsaw almost immediately. I cleared the initial prologue stage, found the game generally fun but kinda clunky, and then died to an early sub-boss during the first official stage. I discovered that that death meant I had to repeat the entire stage from the start, and that was about it for Lollipop Chainsaw. Sorry, guys, but I have better things to do with my time.

Then, for reasons I don’t immediately recall, I decided to try again. I replayed the game from the prologue again (mainly because I had already forgotten how the game “works”), used the excess earned coins to buy a few upgrades for chainsaw combos, and continued on my merry way. I beat the first level pretty handily, and then moved on to the second, third, and beyond. I beat the game inside of a few days, and then went back and ground Juliet against Hard Mode. I beat the top scores. I cooked zombies until I earned all the costumes. I got surprisingly good at stupid quicktime events. And, in the end, the final trophy would only be rewarded for using some random special move (that is to say that the move itself had a random result, which isn’t usually my cup of tea) repeatedly, so I stood around the end of a hellbilly farm and kicked around a severed head until that trophy was in the bag. One platinum trophy earned, and I could finally put Lollipop Chainsaw to bed.

But… why the heck did I do that?

WeeeeeI initially assessed Lollipop Chainsaw’s gameplay as “clunky”, and, even after everything, I stand by that evaluation. Juliet, the heroine of the piece, does not control like your modern videogame action hero. If you’re expecting Bayonetta 2 (or… 3?) here, you’re out of luck. Juliet controls like a hundred pound cheerleader swinging around an enormous piece of gardening equipment. Once you start a chainsaw combo, there’s a level of inertia involved that is usually reserved for particularly chunky boulders. But there’s the “weak” pom-pom attacks that are deliberately lighter and more manageable… except they don’t work like your typical videogame jabs, either. The pom-pom attacks are built more like a lock-on button (which this game also has!), and those weak attacks are meant to bridge the gaps between Juliet and any waiting zombies. The game does explain this (repeatedly!) but, after decades of other 3-D brawler affairs, it never feels right. In short, even when Lollipop Chainsaw is working exactly as intended, it comes off as broken.

But sometimes when you’re on, you’re really fucking on.

There’s a rhythm to Lollipop Chainsaw, and it permeates every bit of the game. From the basic zombie brawls to zombie basketball to even the stupid quick time events, there’s always this undercurrent of timing that is… well… it’s probably not unlike being a cheerleader. I mean, okay, for some reason I never got into that sport (it’s not because I don’t have the legs for it), but the general beat of 1-2-3-4 here is constant between every scene, and only reinforced by the musical genre-inspired boss zombies. It’s the mark of a good game that when you’re in the zone, you can automatically intuit the solution to the next threat or trap, and, once you’re seeing the world through Juliet’s eyes, that happens constantly in LC. Even after not playing the game for at least a year, Bunny AI?when I picked up the Dual Shock 3, I was right back in zombie murderin’ mode, and nothing could stop me.

But that’s true of a lot of games, right? I’ve experienced a similar resonating rhythm with Mega Man or Punch-Out, yet I don’t see 100% clears for those games. Mega Man Legacy Collection is great, but I know that I’m never going to complete that Mega Robot Master Rush achievement. Hell, I can barely beat Wood Man alone with only a buster. Why is Lollipop Chainsaw one of the few games in history to get me to that achievement finish line?

And, reviewing the trophy list, I think I have an answer: nearly every achievement in Lollipop Chainsaw is based on simply playing Lollipop Chainsaw well. And that’s it.

This is important, because there are a lot of… let’s call them “Legendary Achievements” in modern gaming. What am I talking about? Well, there’s a difference between beating the hardest hidden boss in the game, and beating the hardest hidden boss in the game that incidentally takes fifteen hours. There’s a difference between beating hard mode and beating hard mode without ever taking a hit. And, if you’re at all curious why I completed Final Fantasy 13’s sequels but not Final Fantasy 13 itself, there’s a difference between collecting hidden or random items, and collecting every stupid piece of vendor trash in the universe. It seems like every game has some kind of outrageous achievement along those lines, because what’s even the point in producing a game if you can’t force a player to waste sixty hours working toward some arbitrary goal?

WeeeeeeAnd Legendary Achievements are the bane of my achievement hunting. Usually I have no problem clearing a game. After that task is finished, I have a tendency to look over the remaining trophies, whether that’s in a game-provided list, or requires a trip to Gamefaqs. Nine times out of ten, I’ll immediately find that one Legendary Achievement that necessitates insane mastery of the game. Again, this is usually immediately after clearing the game the first time, and, if the game was any good in the first place, there was probably some challenge there. If I just survived beating the final boss, an achievement for beating the final boss without losing any health and in less than ten seconds seems pretty damn insurmountable. Add practically any other remotely difficult achievement to that, and I throw up my hands in defeat. Sure, there are some other achievements on that list I might pull off, but, dammit, I’ve got a backlog longer than the Andes here, and I hope to have at least played Undertale before the end of the universe. Do you know how much time it takes to write about videogames as much as I do!?

But Lollipop Chainsaw doesn’t have any Legendary Achievements. You beat level 1? Great! Do it better. You can kill a bunch of zombies at once? Go for seven! Collecting all the costumes and collectibles is kind of a gimme, but here’s a list of everything you’ve already found, so you’re not stuck looking for blue coins for the rest of your life. Lollipop Chainsaw goes out of its way to make sure its achievements are… achievable, and I wound up plowing through that list as a result. It wasn’t until the last couple of challenges that I even noticed I had nearly finished everything in the game, and then it was just a matter of mastering a few quick minigames. Then welcome to Platinum Town.

YummyAnd there’s an important lesson here. Achievements are, ya know, achievements because they help the player to realize what they’ve accomplished. When you squeeze out the Legendary Achievements, then you’re left with an easy gauge for how “good” you are at a game, straight from the designers. Did you beat the high score? Well, the creators didn’t pull that number out of a hat, if you cleared that number, you have “mastered” that level. Conversely, an insurmountable 9.999,999 score requirement isn’t only difficult, it’s lazy game design that appeals only to the diehards. A much more manageable “generally good” tells the player that mastery is happening, but doesn’t inevitably require a trip to some message board to discover “the trick”. Good trophies/achievements design is an art unto itself, and one that is often ignored in favor of “well, wouldn’t it be cool if only six people got this trophy”.

So good job, Lollipop Chainsaw. I played this game a lot more than I probably would have thanks to its perfectly calibrated trophies, and I’ll remember it fondly as a result. Lollipop Chainsaw might be a janky game, but at least one part of it is platinum.

FGC #223 Lollipop Chainsaw

  • System: Playstation 3, Xbox 360. Sorry, whatever Nintendo system was relevant at the time.
  • Number of players: Only one. Though you can show off your scores online, so that’s kind of like having a second player.
  • Favorite Zombie: There’s something delightfully off-putting about Mariska, the sitar-toting hippy zombie. I can’t put my finger on it, but I think it’s the juxtaposition of her “peace and love” attitude and her stitched together jeans/face.


    The Dethklok wannabe from Stage 2 has got nothing on her.

  • What about the achievement/trophy for looking up Juliet’s skirt? Okay, yeah, that’s a thing… but the record will show it was one of the last trophies I earned! … Though, honestly, I don’t even know why they bothered, like every other cutscene involves some level of panty shot.
  • Speaking of misogyny: There’s an excellent article on Destructoid about objectification and Lollipop Chainsaw, and how it really winds up being the boyfriend, who has literally been reduced to the status of an object, who is the more objectified character in the game. This is clever (and I wish I had that observation first, dammit), and likely wholly intentional. That said, holy crap is Juliet a typical male fantasy, and pretty much nothing is done here to suggest that leering at Juliet in her latest skimpy costume is anything but the intended reward for playing the game well. There’s a lot of cake eating going on here.
  • And speaking of cake: It’s more of a personal pet peeve, but I never need hear another skinny teenager complain about being a fat ass ever again. It happens within the opening monologue! It happens every other time you find a health powerup! It never needs to happen ever!
  • Dialogue Coach: But the rest of the dialogue in the game is pretty damn awesome. The interplay between Juliet and Nick is an unending highlight of this game, and Tara Strong (voice of Juliet) is really bringing her A-game to this production. It’s a rarity on this blog, but here’s a random audio snippet of one of my favorite conversations (NSFW language).
  • Did you know? There was apparently a Valentine’s Day edition of this game released in Japan with additional content (mostly for your PC). This might have contributed to Lollipop Chainsaw being the best-selling Grasshopper game worldwide, so eat your heart out, Shining Soul.
  • Would I play again: Well, I got 100%… is there a reason to go back?

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Castlevania Aria of Sorrow for the GBA! Aw, don’t be sad, Soma, I’m sure you’ll make a fine vampire. Please look forward to it!