Legendary Axe

~ THE LEGENDARY AXE ~

Victor Musical Industries / NEC

HuCard

1989

The Legendary Axe stands as one of the greatest masterpieces of the hack-and-slash sub-genre and ranks as my favorite HuCard game of all time. It got a lot of attention back in the day, so folks who don't like it now make sure to express their views as loudly as possible. And that's fine. Over the years, I've had plenty of debates with such scoundrels about Axe's relative merits and "faults." Now, I'm content with my own love for the game, as it's one that I appreciate more the older I get. I give it a run-through every couple of years, reacquainting myself with the stuff that made me like it so much in the first place and finding new things to appreciate every time.

One thing I've always appreciated is its music. Axe II gets so much credit for its audio, and rightfully so, but its predecessor also has one hell of a soundtrack. Its tunes are extremely appropriate for each stage they accompany and always help establish impeccable atmosphere. For instance, the second level takes place in a simply drawn cavern, but the ominous music makes the trek through it eerie and intense. The stage that precedes it features a bass-heavy tune that couldn't be any more fitting for the beginning of a journey through lush jungle. Best of all is the climactic fifth-stage theme, with its rich tone, dramatic melody, and wildly fast interlude.

As worthy of appreciation as the musical tracks are the enemy designs. There are some resourceful villains to wage war with here: axemen do backflips to avoid your hacks, hags drop crystals and transform into bats upon being slashed, savages club you with their polearms, and giant apes burst through walls and heave tremendous hunks of rock your way.

And then there are the mighty Punjabbis, who are not only powerful but also intelligent, as they toss their spears if you keep at a distance and crouch for the kill if you go for low, close-range attacks, defending themselves with their shields all the while. The prudent placement of these impressive demons is also noteworthy. The fourth stage concludes with an extremely difficult battle against a Punjabbi double team, after which you might be tempted to breathe a sigh of relief. But then the fifth stage commences with an awesome, inspirational melody and ANOTHER Punjabbi to fight, as if it's trying to be daunting with its villains but inspiring with its soundtrack. It executes the formula perfectly.

The level designs, while not overly complex, are head and shoulders above those in most other Castlevania-style games of the era. You always need to keep an eye out for alternative routes, concealed pits, and obscured niches and items, while partaking in a constant, consistent blend of hacking and platform-hopping.

Level 4C is both gorgeous and devious, featuring beautiful backdrops and shrouded monster pits.

Speaking of pits, the Pits of Madness are tortuous and deceptive in layout--and home to the most powerful of the enemy's troops.

The game simply has a flair for the dramatic. The giant Jagu might not be all that difficult to take down, but his flashy entrance is absolutely unforgettable. Full-power axe blows deliver a resounding "CRUNCH" and set the entire screen aglow. And I particularly love the crimson, candle-lit room deep in the Pits of Madness where you're assaulted by Punjabbis while the music goes ballistic.

These sorts of moments made my adventure through Axe one of my most memorable and fondly looked upon video game experiences.

Daimakaimura (Ghouls 'n Ghosts)

~ GHOULS 'N GHOSTS ~

Capcom / NEC Avenue

HuCard (SuperGrafx)

1990

I'd long thought that when the time finally came for me to jot down some thoughts on SuperGrafx Ghouls 'N Ghosts, I'd get the standard comparisons with the Genesis version out of the way quickly and focus on what makes GNG such an awesome action-platformer to begin with. I doubt there is anyone at this point who hasn't been exposed to the typical commentary regarding the SGX card's nicer colors, superior audio quality, and higher level of difficulty. No need for me to deliver the message yet again when everyone has heard it all before.

Of course, this was before I'd even played the SGX game.

Well, I've decided to scratch that plan, as I was completely blown away by this incredible effort even though I'd owned and enjoyed the Genny GNG cart for many years (and my like for it has not waned a bit). Faded colors were replaced by brilliancy; melodies once weak were made rich and atmospheric. And the SGX rendition really is tough as hell, constructed through and through for true hard cases.

And now that my astonishment has been noted, I can proceed with my observations regarding the core game itself. GNG received a lot of attention back in the day for its gigantic bosses, particularly the Shielder (or "Statue of Terror"), the armored cyclopean head-wielder who guards the gateway to Area 2. He and The Legendary Axe's Jagu were impressive overgrown representatives of the new army of game-villain behemoths that appeared at the dawn of the 16-bit era; but while those two giants got most of the press, they were hardly without peer, even within their own respective games.

GNG provides us not only with amazing enemies to annihilate but also with remarkable realms to explore. As was the case in Ghouls' predecessor, Ghosts 'N Goblins, the journey commences in a cemetery, one that is now adorned with head-splitting guillotines and patrolled by scythe-wielding reapers. Slay the Statue of Terror and then visit an unfortunate town bursting in gorgeous flames as the earth itself splits and shakes.

Perhaps the most memorable stage of all is the third, which initially finds Arthur aboard a platform ascending through a dusky tower. Enormous legless knights protrude from the sides of the passage; should you fail to annihilate them before your ride reaches their level, they'll climb onto the platform and inch their way towards you. Watching a gigantic armored villain approach our hero in such ghastly fashion can be a horrifying experience indeed, and the dreary, ominous tune accompanying the action only adds to the scene's intensity.

The grimmest, most unsettling scenario comes afterwards, however. Step off that platform and approach the aptly named “Horrible Faced Mountain,” where demonic visages crafted of stone provide you with your sole means of traversing the grounds by sticking out their tongues. Beware of flying horrors and deadly flames, and don’t stay on one “bridge of tongue” for too long, or you'll find yourself gobbled up by a hungry rock beast.

The last level hurls you into a palace that plays host to a ruthless band of demons, dragons, and boss monsters. Most revolting of all are the hellhogs, uncouth villains who won't hesitate to vomit on you should you be caught trifling on platforms below their posts.

Once you conquer the five-board challenge, get set to do it again due to the series' trademark successive-playthroughs requirement for accessing final boss lairs.

It's all quite brilliant. But whenever I talk about GNG, I feel the need to mention what a kick-ass game its SNES followup, Super Ghouls 'N Ghosts, is. The flaming village is awesome, certainly, but not as memorable for me as the enchanting majesty of Super's snowy forest. And SGNG's wild storm scene, during which Arthur crosses an ocean aboard flimsy rafts, inspires feelings of awe and wonderment that are never evoked by the constantly gloomy GNG. With its dark cemeteries, burning buildings, and demon-faced rock crags, GNG brings about few feelings other than intense, immediate horror: You're in hell, and that's that.

I could delve into details regarding Super's more impressive soundtrack or its greater length, but that would only lead up to the fact that its adventure exudes the “epic" feel far more than GNG's brief five-stage journey. Weaponry is taken to another level in SGNG, with daggers and crossbow shots powering up to veritable lasers and homing missiles. The familiar-feeling controls are aided by the implementation of a double-jump, which might have spared gamers some frustrating moments in this episode.

This cloud boss likes to fly around in circles really fast, as if he's trying to perform a "Mode 7" trick so he can star in the super-awesome Super GNG. The poor guy can't quite pull it off.

Not that there's anything shameful about playing shorter, gloomier sister to the beautiful, epic SNES entry. GNG is an excellent game, one that SuperGrafx owners should purchase with no reservations. I just wish we SGX players had been privileged enough to receive a rendition of the Super chapter as well.

Ordyne

~ ORDYNE ~

Namco / NEC

HuCard

1989

Meet Dr. Tomari, a brilliant scientist and an ace pilot in the guise of a four-foot-five fat kid. When he's not busy building "colossal nuclear reactors" (blame the back of the box), Dr. T likes to hop into his Jetsons-esque "space car" (with the top down, of course) and cruise around the world in search of abducted princesses. Rescued royalty has no appreciation for the efforts of our blue-collar hero: newly freed lasses are often caught looking back longingly at their former captors as Dr. T escorts them to safety. That's fine; the good doctor is so slick that he ditches these damsels when all is said and done, opting to spend his evenings with his best male buddy, one "Sunday Chin." The two chums stare at starry skies for hours on end, relishing life's simple pleasures.

All of this nonsense is covered during the "cinemas" of Ordyne, a TurboChip that's more entertaining as a biographical documentary than as a sidescrolling shooter. It tries to be "cute" by emulating the timeless Fantasy Zone, equipping Dr. T's craft with forward-firing cannons and bomb racks and offering additional weapons for sale in "shop ships" that occasionally waft by. Don't expect to find pretty pastels or oddball adversaries, however, as Ordyne tragically travels a more traditional (read: primitive) route than its outstanding forerunner. While Fantasy Zone's mechanics are mimicked to perfection here, its distinctive color and charisma have been forgotten.

The problem is that the amount of effort put into Ordyne's visuals was insufficient considering that the apparent aim was to craft a shooter with personality. It's extremely difficult to think of an enemy as "cute" when you're at a loss to describe exactly what the hell it is. Weak-kneed fiends appear in droves, firing the odd bullet here and there but never performing any funny or memorable antics. Even the bosses come up lame: strange hunks of machinery can't hold a candle to the crazy snowmen and leaf-spitting tree stumps of Fantasy Zone fame.

Making matters worse, these bums inhabit a world that's even blander than they are. While other 16-bit shooters made famous spectacles out of their "fire levels" with incredible canvases of swirling lava and raging infernos, Ordyne is content with big, slow, donut-shaped things for its rendition of a magma storm.

The game is a complete dud superficially, which is unacceptable considering what many of its "cute 'em up" peers hailing from the same era were able to pull off. The sole visual evidence of any "extra effort" being put forth by the designers comes not in the form of unique bosses or resplendent backdrops but in Dr. T's crimson coiffure being disheveled by the wind. If you have any desire at all to witness the effects of a breeze blowing through the hair of a fat man, Ordyne just might be the game for you. It is not the game for me.

The project wasn't a complete throwaway, however, as the mechanics for a decent round of shooting are indeed present. Shops are placed so precisely throughout the various levels that it's possible for supreme players to maintain a never-ending stream of high-level firepower. The upgrades themselves are not only extremely strong but also impressively wacky: one armament system places a Pac-Man-shaped, bullet-gobbling ornament on the front hood of your ship.

These fundamental factors lead me to believe that Ordyne's creators constructed the layout of the adventure carefully and indeed had good intentions--they just couldn't supplement the meticulously plotted action with aesthetic appeal.

Or maybe they were just freakin' insane. "Princess Mode" certainly seems to support this possibility.

Yes, there is a hidden mode that allows you to play as a chick rather than a chubby grunt. This notion appealed to me, so I decided to give the girl a shot. Imagine the horror I felt when I discovered that THE PRINCESS IS A PALETTE-SWAPPED VERSION OF THE FAT GUY.

I have nothing more to say.

Double Dungeons

~ DOUBLE DUNGEONS ~

NCS/Masaya / NEC

HuCard

1990

Yeah, the concept is simple: bumble around a maze, level up a bit, purchase some equipment, find the key to the boss's room, and beat the boss. And yeah, the game is very repetitive, as you do the same thing in each of its twenty-two labyrinths, all of which look the same. In spite of those facts, I actually like this first-person dungeon crawler a lot, for a number of reasons:

- The gameplay is incredibly fast paced. You practically fly down the hallways, traversing huge segments of dungeon in mere moments; and with turbo revved up, you can rapid-hack right through almost every fight.

- The title-screen music rocks. Granted, the track sounds somewhat, uh, warbly in the middle, but the drums just never let up, making the number awesomely sinister.

- The dungeons employ a pseudo-scrolling hallway effect that works extremely well. It's accomplished via a very simple trick, but it looks so much smoother and better than the chop-chop-along movement in a lot of other old first-person games.

- I like most of the monster sketches, though they aren't fine works of art. There are some surprisingly huge/grotesque creatures to deal with...

...and it's always fun to find out what sort of beast resides in the boss room of a given dungeon.

- The text messages that pop up as you explore the dungeons (e.g., "ZOUNDS! IT'S DANGEROUS HERE.") are pretty amusing. And the dungeon prologues/epilogues are even more entertaining, as they relay eloquent tales like...

Good stuff.

- The game is an absolute blast in two-player mode. Having another person around with whom to take on the bosses, solve the mazes, and laugh at the text bits makes DD so much more fun to play (even though I like it quite a bit when going solo) and inevitably leads to memorable late-night sessions. And for whatever reason, I always get a kick out of encountering the other player (the two warriors begin play at separate spots and are never actually obliged to cross paths).

- Most people probably don't, but I dig the US version's box art.

Double Dungeons is a neat game that all Turbo owners should grant a fair shot, ideally in two-player mode. Give it a try and you might end up surprised at how addictive and entertaining it can be.