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The Plucky Squire

A Real Page-Turner

I ended 2025 on a jaunty note, as far as video games go, at least. The Plucky Squire was added to my Christmas list on a whim and was purchased for me by my lovely wife, and over a few jaunty handheld gaming sessions undertaken in the time void known to some as the “Chrimbo limbo”, I saw the campaign to its jaunty conclusion.

If you haven’t heard of The Plucky Squire, it’s an indie game originally released in 2024 and developed by British studio, All Possible Futures, and concerns the titular squire being kicked out of the storybook he’s the main character in and attempting to save the day by exploring its pages and the outside world.

Many of the puzzles involve swapping words out from the book to have an effect on the environment. It’s a really neat idea that has loads of potential, but I don’t feel like it was explored to that potential.

The game is very “meta” in this way (in fact, the magic that the evil sorcerer, Humgrump, is using to cause trouble is referred to as “metamagic”), as the characters become aware very early on that they are part of a book, and many of the puzzles require players to think outside the box (or outside the book) to come up with creative solutions. Not that any of the puzzles were that hard. I never found myself stopping and scratching my chin thoughtfully for more than a few seconds, and I found all of the “glitchbird” collectibles in one play through.

The game will often stop to offer up some dialogue hinting at what the titular squire (who’s name is Jot, by the way) has to do to proceed, and there were times when I could’ve done without this, and would have rather the game let me figure things out for myself and hold back on stemming the flow. There’s also a recurring character that will give you more specific tips to progress, but you can ignore this fellow if you wish. He does have some fun dialogue, though, so sometimes I felt like I might’ve been missing out on an amusing quip or clever reference. You can’t have it all, I guess.

Sometimes Jot’s allies will fight alongside him, but sometimes they just follow passively.

The writing of The Plucky Squire is very pleasing on the whole. Generally, it’s presented as a kid’s storybook, but the writers definitely had some fun with the dialogue especially. The characters are all fairytale standards with some kind of unique twist, like a wizard who’s into EDM or a troll who’s a heavy metal drummer. The premise, writing, and dialogue combined to provide some legitimately fun and frivolous moments, and I actually chortled aloud a few times.

What about the gameplay, though? Well, I can best describe it as “Zelda-like”, in lots of different ways. When you’re exploring the book, The Plucky Squire feels like a SNES-style, top-down Zelda, and when you’re outside the book in the kid’s room, it’s reminiscent of the Link’s Awakening remake. Even Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks feel represented with some of the creative puzzle solutions. There are also a few moments throughout The Plucky Squire where the gameplay will change drastically for a boss encounter. I won’t spoil too much, but if you’re a fan of rhythm games, side-scrolling shooters, and Punch Out!!, you’re in for a treat.

I now realise that I didn’t take any screenshots of 3D Jot in the real world. Oh well, I’m not going back in to get one, sorry. Here’s a screenshot of him on a mug instead.

Early on, The Plucky Squire felt like it was going to be a quirky but somewhat average experience that I’d play through and forget about, but by the end the gameplay changes, the charm, and the writing elevated it beyond this. I also found the segments where Jot was exploring outside the book, snooping around a kid’s desk and navigating paint pots, rulers, and birthday cards, to be extremely cosy. It almost took me back to my Micro Machines: Turbo Tournament 96 days. Are there any more games where you play as a tiny guy in a full size world? I’d like to explore this idea further. Maybe I need to track down a copy of Chibi-Robo!.

Played on Nintendo Switch 2.

Kizuna Encounter: Super Tag Battle

NEO-GEO Nostalgia

I’m not lucky enough to have a NEO-GEO floating about in the rumpus room (obviously, I really wish I did), and until recently I don’t think I’d ever even seen one. I am interested in lesser-known video gaming lore, though, and have watched many a video and read many an article on SNK’s surprisingly flat box of wires and circuit boards. I’ve also played ports of the various Metal Slug, Fatal Fury and The King of Fighters games that have sprung up on other consoles throughout the years, so it’s not like I’m completely clueless about the world of Shin Nihon Kikaku, just mostly clueless.

Kizuna Encounter: Super Tag Battle is a game that kept coming up in my research for articles and scripts I was writing. Most recently, it came up in my research for my as-yet unreleased Alien/Predator video game ranked list I put together for TripleJump. You see, a 2010, unlicensed mobile title called Predators: The Great Hunt swiped its backgrounds directly from SNK fighting games. I was first made aware of this when a contributor on tvtropes.org pointed out that the stage background from Krizalid’s arena from The King of Fighters ’99 was used, and this got me interested enough to do some sleuthing myself. Through a bit of reverse image searching I was able to identify a background from Kizuna Encounter: Super Tag Battle and, once I’d recovered from my distress at the brazen plagiarism on display, was yet again reminded just how frickin’ awesome this NEO-GEO tag team fighter looked.

I adore the grimy city aesthetic. This stage reminds me of the scene in The Warriors where the gang are avoiding a bus filled with nut-jobs out for their blood.

Fast forward to the other day, and I’m needing to think of a game that was released on a non-Sega, Nintendo, Sony, or Microsoft console (and wasn’t Metal Slug – long story) that I could nominate into the Video Game Hall of Fame, and I thought “maybe it’s time to see if that Kizuna Encounter thingy plays as good as it looks”. A bit of cheeky emulation later and I’m glad to report that it does indeed play wonderfully, and is an all-round tasty slice of fast-paced, one-on-one, weapons-based fighting action.

Kizuna Encounter: Super Tag Battle is a sequel to another NEO-GEO fighter called Savage Reign, and lots of its controls and mechanics are lifted from Real Bout Fatal Fury. However, each combatant has their very own deadly weapon and the tag team mechanic is placed front and centre. It’s the tag team thing that really makes Kizuna Encounter stand out, as you’ll lose the bout if one of your characters goes down regardless of how much health your other character has left, and tags can only be made in a certain indicated section of the arena. This means that new tactics open up, like using quick tags to isolate your opponent, and dramatic struggles to get back to your tag partner become commonplace when things get dangerous. Combatants can regain some health while tagged out, too, so the game definitely encourages players to engage with the tag mechanic. I also like how your tag partner is visible in the background at all times, and will appear raring to go or sagging and depleted, depending on how much of a beating they’ve taken.

I love a pixel art night-time city-scape. I could look at it all day. All day!

I’m far from an authority when it comes to fighting games. I’m more interested in them for the cool characters they can offer and the spectacle they can present than I am for technical moves and combos. I button mash, I rarely block, and sometimes I even play them on easy mode. With all that out in the open so that you can take my opinion with the recommended amount of salt, I did really enjoy Kizuna Encounter. It was easy to pick up and within a few bouts I was able to unleash some pretty cool moves. There’s also plenty to master, and while I never got anywhere near anything resembling “mastery” during my time with the game, I definitely got better with a couple of roster members.

Speaking of the roster, it’s pretty bombastic. I had a lot of fun playing as Max Eagle, the big, axe-wielding American wrestler with a positive attitude, and some of the character designs are super-cool. Sho Hayate is the slick, hero type character, Gordon Bowman looks like an overweight M Bison cosplayer, and rollerblading clown-punk, Joker, could be a Streets of Rage mini-boss. There are even a pair of Mortal Kombat-style pallet-swapped ninja in Mezu and Gozu, the latter of which has some pretty nifty fire-based moves.

The two new characters that were added since the previous game are probably the highlights, though, as Rosa is an eye-catching and badass katana-wielder and staff-fighting police detective Kim Sue-il is the epitome of effortless suave. They both look great against the game’s stunning backdrops, and add to the overall vibe of urban cool.

The pallet-swapped ninja have water and fire attacks respectively. Reminds me of that other game. You know, Shinobi on the Game Gear.

Those stunning backgrounds were what brought me to the party, though, being a shallow, visual kind of fellow who likes looking at cool things. The pixel art on display is phenomenal, and every stage oozes that classic SNK artistry. Glittering skyscrapers viewed from below, sprawling cityscapes seen from above, run-down alleyways, cloudy docks, neon signs, grimy overpasses, and more all await those who are ready to brave the Battle of the Beast God Tournament, and every stage is fantastically atmospheric in its own way. This includes the final arena, a sinister shrine filled with eerie statues inhabited by the final boss, mysterious crow helmet-wearing bad guy, Jyazu. That’s the background that was nicked by the Predator game, by the way.

Like I said, I’m no authority on fighting games, or on the NEO-GEO, or on SNK in general, but I do know what I like and I like Kizuna Encounter: Super Tag Battle, and I wanted to write about it so that its wonderful pixel art could grace my humble web page. SNK really knew their stuff when it came to chucking pixels on a screen, eh?

Played Via Emulation.

Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master – Retro Review

The Ninja Game That Ex-Zeeds Expectations

My most successful writing endeavour to date was a script I put together for the TripleJump YouTube channel about the ten most disturbing 16-bit video game bosses. I had the idea for the list myself and it ended up performing incredibly well. At the time, most TripleJump videos would get 20k to 30k views in the first week or so, and this one rocketed up to the hundreds of thousands. The algorithm must have really liked it, I guess. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, and to my eternal shame I forgot to put the Vortex Queen from Ecco the Dolphin at number one, but I’m still very proud of it.

The whole idea was spawned by a boss from Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master on the Mega Drive. The game’s third stage, ominously named “Body Weapon”, is set in a laboratory complex where the bad guys are brewing up disgusting minions in bio-vats. Slime-covered humanoids emerge from biological waste beneath the floor and brain monsters with insectoid wings lurk on the ceilings, ready to pounce on unsuspecting infiltrating covert operatives.

Towards the end of the stage Joe Musashi, the titular Shinobi, will find himself up to his shins in organic matter in the sewers beneath the laboratory complex, and a gigantic and grotesque figure emerges from the waste in the background, spewing energy projectiles at our beleaguered hero. This creature is known as Hydra, and at the end of the stage Joe will come face to hideous face with it. Hydra’s pixelated horror is a perfect representation of how developers from the 16-bit era managed to expertly create uncanny abominations using the limited resources at their disposal. Limitation breeds creativity, as they say.

When Joe isn’t desperately battling gigantic, malformed, pulsating, atomic beam-belching monstrosities in infested sewer systems, he can be found traversing various cool action movie-style locations while taking on the rest of Neo Zeed’s minions. The game starts out in a forest teeming with enemy ninja that leads to a series of watery caverns, but soon enough Joe will be fighting on horseback under a stormy sky, traversing an industrial facility in a burning wood, crossing a bay on a cool, motorised surfboard thing, leaping from falling rocks in a moonlit ravine, and much more. Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is full of awesome set-pieces that make it that bit more memorable that its predecessor, The Revenge of Shinobi.

This game convinced me that I wasn’t cool enough to grow up to be a ninja.

Unlike that game, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master didn’t benefit from the craft of 16-bit musical legend, Yuzo Koshiro, but the team of composers that were brought on board for the follow up still did a stellar job, providing a distinct soundtrack full of epic highlights. The strange yet bombastic tones of “My Dear D”, the music that accompanies the aforementioned Hydra battle, are a huge contributing factor to that section of the game’s ability to stay with me for all of these years, but the entire adventure is backed up by blood-pumping and thematically appropriate tunes.

The gameplay was tweaked since The Revenge of Shinobi, and progress is a bit easier overall. Joe can now dash, and is able to perform a super-stylish flying kick and an awesome-looking running slash that comes complete with a generous helping of invincibility frames. He can also leap from wall to wall, which results in some interesting level layouts that test Joe’s newfound agility. While still difficult at times, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master goes for spectacle over challenge, and if you know me, you know I’ll take awesome moments and memorable set-pieces over controller-biting difficulty levels any day of the week.

There are a couple of sections in the game that slightly interfere with the pacing, like this slow-moving lift section crawling with Zeed soldiers.

Alas, if you’re a strictly physical-only gamer (which I totally respect) Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is a little bit expensive to get hold of nowadays. I think it’s a better time than The Revenge of Shinobi (which I also adore, by the way), but is it £100 better? Probably not. Still, with Lizardcube’s Shinobi: Art of Vengeance a few months away at the time of writing, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is the best Shinobi game out there in my opinion, and provides a non-stop roller-coaster of awesome, ’90s ninja-based action. Watch out for that third boss, though. Hydra has a tendency to stick with you, even more so than the Vortex Queen, apparently.

The Ooze – Retro Review

It’s Slime Time

An oft-forgotten monster type in the preternatural pantheon (unless you’re a fan of JRPGs or Dungeons & Dragons, that is) is the humble ooze or slime. These corpulent masses of gelatinous gunk used to be a mainstay of the big screen in the era of B-movie horror, with Steve McQueen’s The Blob leading the way and such masterpieces as X the Unknown and Caltiki – The Immortal Monster also getting in on the sentient slime action.

Not to be outdone, Sega Technical Institute came up with the idea for a 16-bit video game with a focus on vengeful viscosity, offering ’90s kids the chance to live out every gamer’s dreams of becoming a formless, quivering mass of repulsive goop. They unleashed The Ooze in 1995.

The game is at its most entertaining when you’re slithering through cramped areas and Dr. Caine’s form assumes the shape of its surroundings.

The game kicks off with a simple cutscene detailing the dramatic story of how the titular ooze came to be. A scientist known as Dr. D. Caine uncovers a plot at a chemical plant involving an evil corporation unleashing a toxic gas amongst the populace and then making a killing selling the serum that cures its effects. Shocked and ashamed, as Dr. Caine was the one who invented the gas, our hero tries to put a stop to the corporation’s nefarious plans, only to be captured, injected with gunk, and disposed of with the rest of the sludge. The bad news for the bad guys is that Dr. Caine survived, gained a new, goopy form, and is out to stop their schemes and regain his humanity.

This schlocky set-up results in a top-down action adventure in which players are responsible for guiding the puddle that was Dr. Caine through a variety of levels, slapping various enemies with extendible, gooey tendrils, and utilising goop-spitting attacks to clear the way. As the ooze comes into contact with environmental hazards or enemy attacks the puddle will shrink in size, with Dr. Caine’s adventure coming to an untimely, slithery end if the puddle gets too small or his goopy head takes too many hits.

Dr. Caine’s fate is actually pretty brutal when you think about it.

Alas, controlling this bilious mass is a mixed bag. While it’s fairly satisfying to slither around and squeeze our slippery hero through gaps and around terrain, the choppy animation and lack of visual clarity as to Dr. Caine’s status do detract from the overall experience. It can be difficult to tell just how close our oozy hero is to expiration, resulting in some surprising game overs, and discouraging use of Caine’s slime spit attack as it takes away from his sludge reserves.

When it comes to presentation, The Ooze isn’t one of the Mega Drive’s finest. Sega Technical Institute, an American branch of the Japanese giant, were also responsible for Sonic the Hedgehog Spinball, and some similarities in the music and visual style are apparent, but that game is much more aesthetically and aurally memorable than this one. If The Ooze looked and sounded more like Sonic Spinball’s toxic caves opening level, it might have lingered longer in the minds and hearts of gamers, but it was not to be. Instead, The Ooze is a little bland visually and, in the earlier stages at least, looks strangely reminiscent of Bitmap Brothers’, The Chaos Engine, although less coherent in its artistic vision.

The Ooze got a fairly negative reception upon release, but this seems a little unfair. It’s an interesting game that’s entirely unique on the console. Moving the goopy protagonist around the stages is fun in its own way, and slurping up goop dropped by enemies to further bolster our hero’s mucilaginous form is a satisfying mechanic. The team at Sega Technical Institute had some great ideas, and for the most part, they implemented them well, but it just needed some additional polish and personality to take it to that next level of quality.

The game is actually kind of hard. You might find it easy though, being such an expert and everything.

It’s a tad expensive to pick up a complete copy nowadays, but if you do find the concept interesting and can play The Ooze through other means, I recommend giving it a go. You should at least have a decent amount of fun enveloping the minions of the evil corporation in your slithering, overwhelming, coagulated, quivering folds. That’ll show ’em ooze boss.

This article was written for a now-defunct Sega magazine and never used. Played on Mega Drive via emulation.

Gauntlet IV

Warrior, Valkyrie, Wizard, Elf, and a Couple of Legendary Bards

The idea of the Gauntlet games always appealed to me as a kid. It had that exotic-yet-comfortable classic fantasy vibe, featuring swords and sorcery, Valkyries and barbarians, and hordes of evil minions to slay in the name of justice (probably, I never paid too much attention to the storyline), but it combined this with a heavy dose of good old-fashioned, co-operative multiplayer. The venerable series takes an arcadey approach to dungeon crawling, with its fast-paced, projectile-based combat, maze-like levels, and constantly dwindling health reserves designed to suck up your coins, and leaves concepts like party management and stat wrangling to the likes of Wizardry and SSI’s Gold Box series of stuffy D&D games.

In 1993, a game called Gauntlet IV was released exclusively for the Sega Mega Drive. Developed by M2 and published by Tengen, it served as a sequel as well as a remake, providing a port of the original game as its “Arcade Mode”, and adding in a unique “Quest Mode”, where players could purchase items and access limited character levelling.

The controls are tight and it’s satisfying to lay waste to hordes of enemies. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, though.

The game is good; a very competent translation of Atari’s original title with plenty of added content and four player multiplayer available across Arcade, Quest, and Battle modes. The tried-and-tested Gauntlet gameplay survives intact and the twists put on the formula by M2 are welcome. The graphics are fine, if a little dull (the dragon bosses added in Quest Mode are very flat and barely-animated), the digitised voices are kind of a mess but have a janky charm, and there’s enough content to keep enthusiasts occupied for weeks. A sterling game, but unremarkable by the stellar standards of the Mega Drive’s top titles. Here in 2025, Gauntlet IV is all but forgotten, and it’s no real surprise, as there isn’t a whole lot about the game that makes it stand out.

Well, apart from the fucking incredible music, that is.

That’s right – this isn’t one of my retro reviews, this is a love letter to one of the most overlooked soundtracks on Sega’s 16-bit banger factory, as when it comes to perfectly-realised musical accompaniment, Gauntlet IV is (in my opinion) right up there alongside the three big S’s, Sonic the Hedgehog, Shinobi, and Streets of Rage. The soundtrack was produced by a pair of musical wizards; Hiroshi Sakimoto and Masaharu Iwata, whose best-known works include Final Fantasy Tactics and Final Fantasy XII, and combines Conan-style, bleak, heroic fantasy fare with atmospheric electronica to masterful affect.

It may not look like much, but by the four elemental towers does it sound great.

If you look up this soundtrack on YouTube or some other soundtrack-storing app or website, you’ll find that the first five tracks consist of a somewhat generic-sounding main title theme followed by four tempo-shifted versions of a rather grating “Treasure Room” song. You’d be forgiven for writing off the soundtrack as forgettable, uninspired plinky-plonk at this point, but I advise pushing on through, as 16-bit, dark fantasy masterpieces await the determined.

For the last part of this article, just for fun and to indulge myself a bit, I’m going to pick out some of the musical highlights and attempt to flex my creative writing muscles to describe the atmosphere each tune evokes to me. If you read this, perhaps check out the soundtrack and see if it takes you to the same magical places.

Whisper of Phantom

A lone traveller crosses a barren swamp where once a great battle was fought. The warrior’s heartbeat pulses, gripped with fear as he peers into the unnatural darkness, the shapes of twisted trees and the shattered remnants of ancient fortifications looming like spectres from an unnatural mist. Hulking scavenger birds peer from their gnarled perches and unseen creatures skulk in the muck and fog. A lonely pipe or flute plays a distant, unsettling tune that calls to the ghosts of warriors that still haunt this place, the notes occasionally threatening to bring a tone of hope, but always descending into loss and loneliness, perfectly suited to this forsaken, haunted land.

Sortie

A hero returns home from a triumphant victory, the high walls of the city topped with rows of baying admirers and draped with shining pennants. The hero has triumphed through strength of arms, and his servants bring carts loaded with treasures from another land and decorated with grizzly trophies of an ancient and hated foe. The people are elated, foreseeing a time of wealth and plenty, but every great victory comes at a cost, and an ominous, orange sun sets as the mighty gates close behind the hero’s retinue, painting the city’s walls in a blood-red glow. Tonight, though, is a time for rejoicing. They can worry about the future tomorrow.

Adventures of Iron

A band of stalwart warriors defend the walls of a mountain fortress as a storm descends across the walls. The fortress is a rare bastion of good in a barren and savage land, and dark hordes accompanied by furious beasts ascend the rocky slopes. Lumbering giants scale the walls with ease, only to be met by the axes and arrows of the heroic defenders, and minions of the dark gods astride snapping wyvern mounts descend from the darkened skies, but many are brought low by hurtling ballista bolts, their winged corpses crashing on the mountainside below. The tide of the battle is slowly turning. This encounter will be hard fought yet, but beams of golden light begin to penetrate the clouds.

Transparent Obstacle

A group of adventurers have been tempted into a crystalline cave by a malicious spirit. Deep inside, a supernatural light shimmers along shining surfaces, and all sense of space is lost. Powerful treasures and untold riches sit in out-of-reach places beyond thick walls of clear crystal. A jade statuette appears to move out of the corner of an eye, a spoke of radiant, near-invisible thread seems to vibrate, like the web of some unseen arachnid. A passage descends into the earth, both ominous and enticing. The adventurers gather their wits and press onwards, and from some unseen location, an unknown intelligence watches them closely through the eyes of its skittering familiars.

There you go, and I only used a thesaurus once.

Tumblepop

A Tumble in the Jungle

As a small child with a wide-eyed interest in the natural world, I embarked on one or two trips to a place called the Tropiqaria in West Somerset. It was (and still is) a small tropical house and zoo built in and around an old BBC radio transmitter. I have two memories from visiting the Tropiquaria; one school trip during which I held a snake around my neck (they’re dry, not slimy!) and one trip with my parents where I sank a few coins into the single arcade machine that stood near the snack bar.

Over the following thirty years I would think about this game every now and then, surrounded by snakes, lizards and tropical flora as it was, but could never remember the name. It was a single-screen platformer along the lines of Bomb Jack but with a bit of a Ghostbusters vibe; the characters had vacuum guns with packs on their backs, and you’d suck up enemies into your pack and then fire them at other enemies. It was bright and colourful and whimsical, and something about it burrowed into the back of my mind and found a permanent home there.

Incredibly, by using the modern art of “Googling it” I have managed to identify this mysterious game from my youth, so I’d like to bring your attention to Tumblepop, released in 1991 and developed by Data East. Tumblepop is an arcade platformer for up to two players starring a pair of ghost hunters who travel the world, sucking up spooks and blasting them into their allies. The machine was published by Namco in Japan, a company called Leprechaun Inc. in the US, and a company called Mitchell Corporation in Europe. Despite sounding very English, the Mitchell Corporation was apparently a Japanese developer and publisher, and somehow delivered a Tumblepop cabinet to a random exhibition of tropical animals in the depths of the English West Country. Strange how things work out, isn’t it?

The Japanese stages take place during sunset, just like in Road Rash 3. Wait, it’s probably sunrise, come to think of it.

Thanks to the modern gift of emulation, I spent some time today playing Tumblepop on my desktop PC using a USB Nintendo Switch controller, and I have to say I had a pretty good experience with it, despite there being very few lizards nearby. The game definitely has an air of Bomb Jack about it, with its single-screen layouts and backgrounds featuring world landmarks, but the rainbow-hued suction beams of the magic vacuum guns add a whole extra dimension to the gameplay.

After selecting the nation they’d like to save from a simple world map, players will battle through a number of stages, slurping up a variety of enemies as they work their way towards a boss battle. The gameplay is simple and satisfying, and it’s not as tricky as a lot of arcade platformers, but it’s still easy to get caught out with so many enemies packed into the single-screen areas that are capable of attacking from above and below. As you progress through the stages, projectile-spewing baddies will begin to appear, as well as baddie-producing generator-type enemies that take a couple of hits to remove.

Each location has a boss waiting at the end of it, and the bosses tend to dominate the screen and represent an interesting change of pace. Despite each boss encounter having its own simple gimmick they all have the same solution; suck up their minions and empty the tank right in their enormous, ugly faces. Oh, don’t hold the suck button down for too long though, or your guy’s backpack will explode and you’ll lose a life. It’s a tragic and shameful way for a ghost hunter to go out.

Remember when that giant octopus terrorised New York? Yeah that was crazy.

As far as I can tell, Tumblepop was never ported out of the arcade with the single exception of a Game Boy version that was later released for the Nintendo 3DS Virtual Console, meaning that outside of emulation there’s no way of playing Tumblepop in full, living colour – unless you want to track down what must now be an exceptionally rare and obscure arcade machine, that is. I wonder if the Tropiquaria still has theirs? Maybe I’ll go over there soon and check it out. Worst-case scenario; I get to see some turtles.

Devilish – Retro Review

Bounce Your Balls Through Spooky Halls

If there’s one thing that Atari’s block-bashing 1976 arcade hit, Breakout, needed to make it a little bit more eye-catching, it was a sinister sprinkling of ghosts, ghouls, demons, and other monstrosities. Japanese software developer, Genki, thought so anyway, and came up with Devilish for the Game Gear, an unholy take on the paddle-based, ball bouncing, Breakout formula.

Before we get into the gameplay, though, let’s take a look at exactly why a pair of elegant-looking paddles are bopping a mystical ball around a selection of menacing locations. The legend goes that a prince and a princess were in love, and a jealous demon turned them into a pair of stone paddles. That’s the first thing the demon thought of, apparently. Not frogs. Not statues. Paddles.

The boss fights take place against a plain, black background – as was the tradition at the time.

Unfortunately for said demon, a mystical and mysterious ball came into existence that the paddle-prince and paddle-princess could use to absolutely batter the demon’s minions and fortifications, Odama-style. This all results in a pair of stony sovereigns bashing a beautiful blue ball into blocks, bricks, bad guys and boogeymen, all in the name of love.

The game takes place across six scrolling stages, with players able to select from a number of paddle configurations and move the top paddle higher or lower into the screen. The aim is to reach the end of the stage within a strict time limit, with points awarded for blocks broken and monsters flattened.

It’s a fun idea and a nice, occult take on the Breakout formula which is ideal for handheld gaming. It can occasionally feel frustrating, with the bouncing physics often hard to predict, and certain enemies and obstacles seemingly designed to get under your skin with their time-wasting bullshit, but when you get it right and bust through vast sections of a stage with ease, it can feel pretty satisfying.

The guy in the hat makes the other zombies dance. It’s probably referencing some obscure 90’s thing…

The time limits for each stage are very tight, and with only six stages and many sub-two minute target times, a full play through of this demonic adventure will take you less than a quarter of an hour, once you’ve mastered the gameplay, that is.

Short life-span aside, Devilsh is an entertaining Breakout clone with a liberal dose of blasphemous imagery mixed in for good measure, and high score-chasers will have a rollicking time flinging their paddles about with righteous, ball-blasting fury. Be a bit careful with them, though. They’re royalty, remember.

Sinister Sequel

If roughly fifteen minutes of demonic paddle-spanking isn’t enough for you, there is more to be found out there if you’re willing to enter the shadowy realms of importing, console modding, or emulation. Known as Bad Omen in Japan and Devilish: The Next Possession in America, this fiendish follow-up was developed by Aisystem Tokyo, and reuses the plot and gameplay of the original, sprucing up the visuals, adding multiplayer, and drawing out the length a bit.

It’s more of the same but bigger and better (and with a pretty badass front cover, too), but us here in Europe were deemed unworthy, and the pair of monarchical paddles never landed on our fair shores. Not releasing the cool, fiendish sequel in Europe? That’s a paddlin’.

This article was written for a now-defunct Sega magazine and never used. Played on Game Gear via emulation.

Krusty’s Super Fun House – Retro Review

Can’t Afford the Exterminators? Send in the Clowns.

Hey, kids! Remember when Krusty the Clown was just Homer Simpson with funny hair and a red nose? No? Well, playing Krusty’s Super Fun House for the Mega Drive will probably jog your memory. In this platformer-puzzler, you’ll play as the titular troubadour as he collects pick-ups, opens doors, leaps from platform to platform, and herds dumb rodents to their cruel and brutal fates. Imagine Lemmings, but in reverse; instead of trying to save the conga-line of critters, you’re attempting to lead them to their untimely demise for the sake of a rodent-free fun house. No one likes rats in their fun house.

Is flattening the rats with a comically oversized boxing glove really the best idea they could come up with? Bart and Krusty, I mean, not the developers.

Players control Krusty directly, his cutesy, deformed sprite sporting a lolling, open-mouthed, buffoonish grin. Krusty circa 1992 is a far cry from the hard drinking, hard gambling, chain-smoking malcontent we know and love today, and players must guide this wholesome version of Krusty around increasingly complex levels, finding collectibles, fending off enemies, and redirecting rodents. Every single rat needs to be mercilessly splattered before Krusty can exit the level and move on, with hidden areas generally containing random pick-ups that contribute to a superfluous-feeling points tally.

The actual vermin-guiding is achieved by finding moveable blocks and placing them around the levels. The rats can step over a single block, but will reverse direction if they hit anything that’s two blocks or higher. Using this information, and the various fans, pipes, and other such paraphernalia scattered about the fun house’s funtastic hallways, players can apply their clever clown brains to place blocks in the correct place so that the rats resume their inexorable march to doom. Things can get quite tricky, with solutions often requiring lateral thinking, extensive trial and error, and quick wits, if the rats are to be located and directed before they can permanently evade capture.

The rat-catching gameplay is fine, but Krusty’s Super Fun House is filled with a lot of unnecessary fluff. The enemies seem mostly redundant and randomly placed, and the stages are almost all far larger than they need to be. Each stage will have a section designed to funnel the rats around, and then an often vast swathe of nondescript back-rooms to explore with no compelling motive.

What part of the Fun House is this? The unnecessary and nonsensical part, that’s what.

The rodent herding is cool, the graphics are okay, and the fun, old-school Simpsons vibe is part of our shared social history, but Krusty’s Super Fun House just ends up feeling a little bit empty. Maybe a lodger will help the place feel more lived in – I heard Sideshow Bob is looking for a place to stay again.

Paint It Yellow

Krusty’s Fun House was released on multiple formats (with the 16-bit iterations adding the “Super” to the title), but it’s actually a reskin of an Amiga game called Rat-Trap, in which a pink-haired fellow places blocks to guide rats into rat-catching machines. Audiogenic, the original developer, took Rat-Trap and gave it the Groening treatment, adding Simpsons-themed posters, replacing the nondescript, pink-haired youth with Krusty, and redesigning the rats to look a bit more like they’d fit in among the alleyways and drainpipes of Springfield.

This article was written for a printed Sega magazine but never used. Played on Mega Drive

Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn

Blue Shadow (And a Pink One Too)

A modern remake of a “Nintendo hard” NES game that I’d never even heard of? No, it’s okay, I’ll leave it, thanks. What’s that? It’s got gorgeous, pixelated sci-fi cityscape backgrounds and super cool modern re-imaginings of 90’s ninjas and robotic enemies? Alright, you twisted my arm.

Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn, developed by Tengo Project, is a modern remake of the NES title Shadow of the Ninja, known as Blue Shadow here in Europe. It features two ninjas of the Iga clan, Hayate and Kaede, as they navigate six distinct stages in a direct attempt on the life of the evil Emperor Garuda, whose forces have taken over the United States of America.

There’s a bit of Contra in there, a sprinkling of The Ninja Warriors, and perhaps a slight bouquet of Metal Slug.

This re-imagining updates the visuals in bombastic style, with chunky sprites filled with personality, a grimy tech aesthetic juxtaposed with neon lights and splashed with delightfully garish, luminous colours, and fluid animation bringing bosses and set-pieces to life.

It’s a gorgeous-looking game, but you won’t have much time to take in the sights, as beyond a couple of basic grunt-type enemies, most of the mechs, monsters and mooks you’ll face are perfectly equipped to catch out sightseers and careless wanderers. Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is challenging, and I can see how the original might have been a very tough nut to crack. This remake allows players to continue indefinitely from the last stage reached, but most areas still took me a lot of tries to get through, and the bosses take the difficulty up another few notches, forcing the recognition and memorisation of some devious attack patterns.

Both Hayate and Kaede control exactly the same, and can attack, crouch, jump, and attach themselves to walls and ceilings, flipping up onto higher platforms if the terrain allows. They both start off with a katana (that can be powered up to launch projectiles) and a kusarigama, which is basically a blade on a chain. The kusarigama packs a punch and can attack at range, but its longer attack animation will leave its wielder vulnerable and, unlike the katana, it cannot deflect enemy projectiles. As the game progresses, it becomes necessary to fully understand the strengths and limitations of each weapon to succeed, and knowing which attack to use and when so as not to leave yourself vulnerable to counter-attack is the key to success.

The heads fly off of these cute little laser horses when they take damage, resulting in a flying head drone and some charging, disembodied legs to deal with.

Successful players will also have to master jumping, as Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn features a few fiddly jumps here and there. The jump button has a slight delay, and this has led me to more than a few health-sapping plummets into nothingness. Luckily, falling off the screen isn’t an instant death, but the jumping is the most unsatisfying part of the game for me, and I feel like it could have been a lot smoother. The ninjas also have the ability to momentarily hover, and this is activated by pressing down and holding the jump button, which was a little too fiddly for an old and decrepit gamer like me at first. It all clicks into place eventually, but not before more than a few frustratingly missed ledges.

The “ninja gear” mechanic adds another element to the game. Throughout each stage crates will regularly hide limited-use weapons – including firebombs, larger swords, and even guns – that can be kept in a limited inventory and brought into action when they’re needed. There is a system where players can purchase unlocked items of gear to start the game with, which is definitely helpful in certain situations, but this starting gear is lost upon death, so if you’re having trouble with, say, the fourth stage boss, and purchased some gear you thought might help you with it, you better hope you get there without continuing.

If you repeatedly die on a certain stage, Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn will start to take pity on you, packing extra health-restoring goodies in your inventory like a proud ninja mum. I have no shame in admitting that I made use of these pity dumplings on numerous occasions. I did find myself getting better at the game, however, and was breezing through the formerly-difficult early stages upon a second play-through. The later areas could still be a bitch, though.

There’s also a two-player co-op mode, which I imagine is great, but I haven’t talked the daughter into trying that out with me yet.

This boss was really tough until I realised I could bash it in the head with a sword. It … wasn’t clear at first, okay?

Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is a great retro platformer-action game with fantastic visuals and satisfying combat, that’s let down slightly by some occasionally fiddly jumping. It’s a stern test of reflexes, pattern memorisation, and patience, but if you think you’ve got the ninja skills, then I’d highly recommend taking a trip through this extremely dangerous neon metropolis.

Played on Switch

Into the Breach

Live, Kill Kaiju, Die, Repeat

As someone who’s eyes light up at the sight of a grid-based battlefield populated with adorable 2D combatants, I was predisposed to give Into the Breach a chance. If you’re not like me, and don’t instantly fall in love with anything that bears even a passing resemblance to Shining Force III or Final Fantasy Tactics, you might glance at the relatively small battlefields and limited number of units on show and decide to give this one a miss. I’m here to politely request that you reconsider that decision, as you’re missing out on a gem! A bastard-hard and thoroughly depressing gem, but a gem nonetheless.

Despite this guy’s confidence, you won’t be able to save everyone.

This indie-developed, mech-on-kaiju strategy game has been around since 2018, but I recently picked up the physical copy on Switch, and have found myself thoroughly absorbed into its time-bending, apocalyptic world. Your job in Into the Breach is to command a small squad of mechs as they attempt to defend the world’s population and infrastructure from an onslaught of giant bugs known as the Vek. Already on its last legs due to various natural catastrophes, civilisation has been brought to the brink of destruction by the marauding kaiju, and humanity’s last hope comes in the form of a group of time-hopping mech pilots.

The main aim of the game is to protect buildings and facilities from monster attacks, as these locations provide power to your power grid, and if your power grid fails, the timeline you’re in is fucked and it’s time to bail out. If this happens, your pilots will use their timey-wimey powers to zap themselves to a different timeline and try again. Each pilot is scattered across different timelines, too, so you can only keep one of them, and if you mess up and one of your mechs gets destroyed, the pilot is (usually) gone for good. Just don’t get too attached to these guys, okay?

While Into the Breach has a lot of the gameplay and strategy you’d expect from comparable modern retro tactical games like Triangle Strategy and Wargroove, there are a few mechanics that handily set it apart. One is the previously-mentioned timeline shenanigans, which lends itself to roguelike-style progression where repeated failures result in you being slightly better-equipped to take on the next timeline. Another mechanic that sets Into the Breach apart is the fact that it will clearly tell you exactly what the monstrous Vek are planning to do in the next turn, and will allow you to plan and manipulate them appropriately.

Chemical pools and conveyor belts are just a couple of the environmental hazards you’ll be dealing with. Oh, and see that knobbly squid thing in the bottom row? Take that out first.

It may sound like being able to accurately predict the AI’s every move would make a game like this pretty easy, but this is not the case. In fact, it’s this mechanic that takes Into the Breach further into board game or puzzle game territory. This removal of random chance or behind-the-scenes calculations makes Into the Breach pure strategy, akin to Chess, and will lead to difficult decisions aplenty. Expect to find yourself staring at the screen for minutes on end, sighing and rubbing your chin as you attempt to run through sequences of moves in your head to get out of a seemingly impossible situation you’ve found yourself in. You’ll often find yourself played into a corner where you’re forced to sacrifice something, and making the difficult choice between the mission objective or one of your experienced pilots is sure to produce lots of curse words and require a cup of tea or two. You’ll need a strong stomach, thick skin, and a really, really big brain to master this one.

The final goal of the game is to defeat the Vek at their hive, which is an area that opens up after liberating two of the four available islands. The difficulty scales as you progress through the islands, so taking the Vek hive out after island number two is your easiest option, but successfully completing a four-island run is a much more difficult goal. It’s a tough ask, and only letting you take one pilot with you to the next timeline feels harsh to the point of being insurmountable. Perseverance, experimentation, and the ability to stay calm and look for options under pressure are your best weapons to get there.

It’s often better to let your mech take a hit, rather than lose some of your power grid. Even if a pilot is killed, the mech’s AI will bring it back for the next mission. You’ll probably feel bad, though.

Once you’re up and running, understanding and upgrading your mech’s abilities, manipulating the Vek into harming each other, and successfully shielding civilians from kaiju attack becomes extremely satisfying. You’ll feel like a legendary commander when you pull it off, and you’ll become more confident as you start to understand the game’s way of thinking. However, Into the Breach is always capable of surprising you, and a power grid failure that results in hordes of titanic bugs burrowing out of the Earth’s crust to overwhelm the planet’s last defenders is always only a mistake away.

As alluded to earlier, Into the Breach can initially seem limited. The maps are small, you’re usually in charge of only three units at a time, and there are only five different environment types to do battle in. However, its difficulty, ingenious mechanics, variety of environmental effects and open-ended nature make for an incredibly deep experience that will keep throwing up new problems for as long as you’re willing to solve them.

The game does its best to make you remember that there are lives at stake. Try to focus on the mission, okay?

Tough, tense, and hugely atmospheric, Into the Breach is a strategy game for big time players. Great pixel art and some fantastically appropriate musical pieces all add to a high quality strategy experience, with unlockable mech squads and pilots, and additional, advanced options allowing experienced players to tweak gameplay to their heart’s content.

Climb into your mech, steel yourself for the horrors you’re about to witness, and give this strategy gem the chance it deserves. After all, you can always abandon this timeline and jump to the next if things don’t work out.

Played on Switch