KiKi KaiKai

~ KIKI KAIKAI ~

Taito

HuCard

1990

KiKi is an intense little overhead-view shooter somewhat reminiscent of Last Alert in its "free roaming" style. It's the type of game you'll gradually feel yourself getting more and more awesome at as you put in practice. The later levels are quite challenging, as they present you with lots of projectiles and small, quick enemies to worry about in tight spaces.

The boss fights are also fairly difficult. It feels great to figure out effective methods for getting through them.

Repetition is definitely an issue here. The levels all look alike aside from a bridge here and a graveyard there. The same few enemies show up over and over again (though they do get more aggressive as the adventure goes on). And a single stage song is used repeatedly. It's an awesome tune, to be sure, but at some point, enough gets to be enough.

The repetition doesn't bug me, as I appreciate the action, the boss fights, the cartoony-Japan setting, and the rewards reaped from putting in practice. That is not to say that you should spend forty dollars on the game, but if you can find it cheap, snatch it up and enjoy.

Legendary Axe II

~ THE LEGENDARY AXE II ~

Victor Musical Industries / NEC

HuCard

1990

A kick-ass hack-and-slasher in the vein of its widely lauded predecessor, LA2 is unique because of its atmosphere: I've yet to experience another game quite as dark and brooding and melancholy as this one. The overhanging feeling of despair isn't conveyed through cinematic events; instead, it's established via elements of in-game presentation. The music is so grim and somber; the enemies, so bizarre; the stages, so bleak and unforgiving. And there's no new dawn to look forward to, as even the concluding sequence is completely fucked up. I know a fellow who doesn't enjoy playing the game because it depresses him. I understand why he feels that way, but I can't say I'm similarly repelled by the darkness. In fact, said darkness is what draws me into the adventure.

The soundtrack plays a major role in establishing that compelling atmosphere. It's received so much praise over the years that additional commentary probably isn't necessary, but I must note its effortless segues from quiet sadness (Stage 2) to strong, heavy riffage (Stage 3) to outright creepiness (Stage 5).

And speaking of Stage 5... what a wonderfully crazy level it is. Within the grotesque "innards" constituting the level's boundaries roam fire-breathing ostrich monsters, slithering worm creatures, and slime men who attack via glorious limb-splitting suicide. It's utter madness, disgusting and eerie and outlandish... and absolutely awesome.

A stormy tower ascent follows the memorably abominable Stage 5 and precedes the game's biggest surprise of all: a high-tech, maze-like final stage, which would be difficult to pass even if its complex layout were your only concern. But you'll have to deal with the brutal robots who inhabit it as well.

Those robots are sure to knock you around quite a bit, but you won't take any particularly harrowing falls during your encounters with them. However, earlier levels that require you to make lengthy climbs to their peaks (2, 4, and 6, specifically) host plenty of enemies and traps that can send you reeling back to their starting points, and steps and leaps must be retraced against tight time limits.

Dark and weird are clearly the running themes here, whereas the first Axe explored a broader spectrum of concepts. I wouldn't change Axe 2 for anything, as I love the uniqueness of it, but I do prefer its multifaceted predecessor overall. Still, this one has its advantages: it provides you with three main weapons to wield as opposed to one and pits you against a giant mega-bastard of a final boss.

R-Type

~ R-TYPE ~

Hudson Soft / Irem / NEC

HuCard

1989

I've always appreciated this sidescrolling shooter's well-thought-out level designs; there's rhyme and reason to every aspect of every one of its stages. And brilliant board construction is hardly the only thing it's got going for it: its enemy designs are legendary, its graphics are remarkable, and its soundtrack is memorable and diverse. Despite all those positives, I've never particularly loved the game, as I find it falls short in many respects when compared with certain other strategy-emphasizing titles, and admittedly, I tend to prefer fast-paced Thunder Force-type shooters to the slow breed that it belongs to. Still, with my affinity for high-level challenges, I can't help but give R-T a play every now and then.

I do enjoy it for the most part. It hits its strategic stride with the stretch that comprises levels 4-7 before wrapping up with a somewhat-lame final mission. The first three stages are rather slow and easy, but they're veritable shooter-hall-of-fame displays considering the bosses and tunes they feature.

While that breakdown certainly indicates that the game provides a quality experience, I feel that it's too methodical and lacks spontaneity. Now, I like a good "thinking man's shooter" as much as the next guy, but some other mind-games-focused blast-'em-ups like Sinistron and Rayxanber II are superior to R-Type in my estimation, as they involve more-prominent "twitch" elements and force the player to make more spur-of-the-moment decisions, not to mention that they're even more aesthetically appealing than their forerunner.

Let's consider Rayxanber II. No matter how much you memorize of its fourth and sixth stages, they will always be challenging and you will always have to play well to get through them. Plus, Ray II plays fast--it's a Thunder Force-style shooter that calls for as much strategizing as an R-Type. Completing the first seven levels in R-T becomes perfunctory once you've figured out the correct paths to take and positions to occupy, and the plod-along pacing certainly doesn't make matters any more exciting.

Now take Sinistron. It doesn't even truly become rigid until its fifth stage begins. Just prior to that point, it demands that you play through an intense and ferociously difficult segment where you need to count on your reflexes more than anything else in order to navigate a gauntlet of asteroids and bullets. The only time R-Type's gameplay approaches this appealingly frantic style is during its final stage, when green baby-like things and dull spinning things kinda float about the screen; and even then, Sinistron's level of action murders R-T's.

I know that the infamous Stage 7 is the apple of every R-Type fan's eye, but even with all of its enemies and bullets and wall explosions, it's not particularly challenging once you discern the correct path to take. The boss is tough, though, and if you get killed in its trash-stocked lair, you'll most likely be unable to rebound, as you'll be placed at a ridiculous, unfairly situated checkpoint--which is surprising, as every other checkpoint along the way is completely reasonable. Any game can go ahead and take away your means of defending yourself and flood the screen with enemies and call itself "tough." That's not quality design--it's crap challenge and a quarter-nabbing tactic, and it's annoying to experience it in a home console game. It would have been nice if Irem had gone the Sinistron route by granting you the option of returning to the beginning of a stage rather than the checkpoint upon continuing.

In any event, I like the gathering of ships that takes place at the very end, and I do enjoy the ride there for the most part. Sinistron and Rayxanber II are stronger titles, though.

Space Harrier

~ SPACE HARRIER ~

Sega / NEC Avenue

HuCard

1989

Inspired by my brother Alexei's heartfelt review and fond recollections of the game, I decided to give Space Harrier a quick play for the first time in a while. Actually, it wasn't so quick; I must admit it took a few sessions for me to regain my space-harrying skills. That's a good thing, as I like it when a game requires practice. And SH is always a nice change of pace for me; there are few Duo games quite like it (the system, like its contemporaries, was low on into-the-screen blasters), so transferal of sharpened skills from one recently played title to this one is generally out of the question. Before too long, I was back in the zone, tearing through enemies and speeding past pillars until I reached the glorious "Epirogue."

It was the kind of good, clean fun that I'm used to having when I sit down with SH. It's always enjoyable to duel with mammoths and gliding robots and the rest of the game's oddball miscreants.

Plus, many of the tunes are pretty darn catchy, especially the track that plays during the second boss fight.

As for negatives, the game is too repetitive. It takes a number of stages and basically rehashes them with obstacles more abundant and enemies quicker to the draw. The gameplay is challenging and enjoyable enough that the repetition doesn't become a major issue, but I feel the designers were a little short on ideas for the eighteen stages they constructed.

Also, all of the bosses are easy to beat, and some are simply underwhelming. Crushing a frail-but-cool-looking fire-breathing dragon makes for decent-enough fun, but defeating a bunch of little blue things isn't particularly satisfying.

Keith Courage in Alpha Zones

~ KEITH COURAGE IN ALPHA ZONES ~

Hudson Soft / NEC

HuCard

1989

Being that this pack-in action-platformer was my very first Turbo game, I was pretty excited to give it a try back in 1989. Ten minutes into my first session with it, I'd already determined that it wasn't any good, so I shut it off and started playing The Legendary Axe instead. I didn't get around to beating it until a long time after that, as it was a game I never really felt like playing. But as middling as it is, it gradually made its way over to my good side.

KC's flaws have been discussed ad nauseam, but since I like to nauseate people, I'll do a recap. It feels terribly repetitive, whether you're grinding for cash by fighting beanie-wearing midgets and flying cats in the overworld areas or wandering around in the every-path-looks-the-same underworld zones. Also annoying are the slow gameplay in said overworld areas and the inevitable blind leaps into spike pits in said underworld zones.

But enough about the bad stuff. Let's do something that deviates from the Keith Courage-article norm: focus on the game's positive elements.

The basic concept itself is awesome: a goofy fellow bumbles around a wacky overworld and earns cash for blade upgrades and auxiliary bombs; then, he puts on a mecha-like suit, pulls out a lightsaber, and battles his way through a dark, mazelike underworld.

Everyone loves the "donning the suit" sequence that takes place as Keith enters the underworld.

The "gun guy" is one of the most memorable enemies in Turbo history, without a doubt.

Actually, many of the enemies, particularly the bosses, look pretty darn cool, even though they fight like chumps.

There's also the flashing title screen, which got me all pumped up for 16-bit gaming the first time I saw it. The upbeat, electric track that plays during that fancy opening is extremely cool, as is the eerie boss-battle tune, and the sound effects are incredibly dynamic. And let's not forget the bit of text at the end that advises us to watch for a "NEXT KEITH COURAGE ADVENTURE." Man, I'm psyched for that.