Cosmic Fantasy 2

~ COSMIC FANTASY 2 ~

Working Designs (US) / Laser Soft / Telenet

CD-ROM

1992 (JPN: 1991)

CF2 is one of the games that convinced me I really needed to acquire the Turbo CD unit. I'd wanted a true RPG for my TG-16 from the day I bought the system, and this one looked absolutely awesome in Electronic Gaming Monthly's previews. And here I am now, having just played through it for the tenth or so time (which is probably my "record" as far as traditional-style RPGs go), and I still love it for all the elements that appealed to me years ago: the characters are a wonderful bunch (the Van-Babs-Pico fellowship is legendary among Turbo circles), and the story is absolutely unforgettable, culminating with one of the most memorable and emotional endings to be experienced in a video game.

While the awesome cinemas constituted one of the main reasons I wanted the game so badly, CF2's tale has more going for it than just fancy interludes. It contains lots of unforgettable twists that don't even get the cinematic treatment (the dramatic unveiling of imposter city leaders, for instance), and cool characters are constantly joining your party and aiding you in completing the tasks you're charged with, providing you with some nice little backstories along the way (Jiela in particular has always struck me as a badass minor character). With so many intriguing story elements and appealing small-part players, the game achieves an epic feel that other episodes in the CF series (and many of CF2's contemporaries) lack.

But even with such a great story, the game takes its knocks, mainly because of its unintuitive battle system. I acknowledge that said system is completely obsolete, and it doesn't help that the encounter rate is quite high. However, it should be noted that fights can be won quickly and easily; I can think of a number of games flaunting "fancier" systems that are much more irritating to play due to combat proceedings that unfold so much more slowly. And I've always been a big fan of the CF2 enemy art; having cool-looking monsters to slaughter helps ease the pain of dealing with an outdated fighting setup. Plus, the drum-driven battle tune is pretty darn cool.

In fact, the music on the whole is quite good, even though there's a very limited selection of tracks. Among those tracks are some extremely effective "sad" pieces. One somber town tune accompanied by wind effects makes matters seem very bleak indeed, and there's an incredibly sweet melody that plays when you arrive at a certain significant hut late in the adventure (and at other important spots). The end-credits track is also excellent.

My only complaint at this point in time is that I don't particularly care for many of the townspeople mutterings. WD's "pop culture" references are occasionally effective (particularly a clever Twilight Zone allusion), but when everyone in a village including the resident chicken is trying to be a fucking comedian, I don't find it amusing and I start to get annoyed.

Even with those scripting stumbles, the story is simply brilliant. CF2's money moments make as much of an emotional impact as any other game's.

Some folks have made a big stink about the lack of status effects and enemy elemental powers in the US version of the game. Personally, I'm just fine with those omissions. Status effects in console-based RPGs often do nothing but force the player to partake in time-wasting busy work: pulling out an antidote or casting a cure spell doesn't involve much "strategy" or contribute much "depth" to a role-playing experience if you ask me. Such effects are much more interesting in games like Might & Magic and Ultima, as those efforts strive for engaging intricacy, and any given effect can make a significant impact. Elemental effects also don't matter much to me, as damage is damage, and again, the "strategy" elements in games that do implement these sorts of attack and defense types are usually minimal enough to be practically negligible. However, I do think Working Designs screwed up by leaving in all the items that are supposed to relieve or defend against these non-existent hazards and documenting them in the instruction manual. For years, I didn't know whether or not it was only my copy that lacked the effects.

In any event, I eventually picked up and played through the Japanese version, as I wanted to find out how much of a cumulative impact would be made by status effects and other things that Working Designs is said to have "removed" when they "mutilated" the game.

Well, I didn't get hit with a single status effect. Not one. I was never poisoned. I was never paralyzed. I was never turned to stone. And if the enemies used any magic spells or "elemental powers" while I was zipping through the fights, I certainly didn't notice.

In fact, the PCE game plays out exactly like its US counterpart. WD did not "shaft" us; the product they gave us plays just like the original, despite the inclusion in both of all those items apparently intended to combat/remedy things that aren't even in the game. I don't know what the hell happened during the making of CF2, but that's the way it is. Again, I think the effort is better off without that crap anyway. But it's very strange that said items wound up being included.

Anyway, for those who are curious about the JPN release, many of the names it uses for characters, enemies, places, and pieces of equipment can also be found in the US rendition. Obviously, there are some notable exceptions: Rim and Yuu became Cadet Babbette and Cobra, respectively, for instance. In a Robotech-esque moment, you can see the word "RIM" in the US version on a monitor during a cinema in which Cobra and Sayo are being told of Babbette's plight.

Babs gives her AI ally the finger during a cinema in the PCE game, but you can check that out just by finding a picture of the back of the case or, uh, looking at this screen cap:

And while we're on the subject of Babs, the rumors that you can see more of her in JPN CF2 during the famous shower scene are completely false. The shower scenes are identical. (However, the scene actually was redone in more risque fashion for the Cosmic Fantasy Visual Collection.)

Moving on to admittedly less-interesting matters, I expected that the PCE version would feature voice acting when characters are having conversations and a portrait of one of them appears in a corner of the screen. That's how PCE RPGs often work, after all. But the JPN one goes with text alone, just like the US game. And I prefer it that way: I hate not being able to skip pointless bits of voice acting.

One thing I'd always been looking forward to was hearing the end-credits number as sung in Japanese. The dueling versions feature identical music and melodies, but I believe the US got the better vocals.

There are posters in US CF2 that mention the then-upcoming Cosmic Fantasy 3, which many figured to be another instance of "WD tinkering," but JPN CF2 actually has the posters as well, and it doesn't stop there with game namedropping.

One rather odd difference involves a lost floppy disk that can be found in a strange town hidden behind a waterfall. An elderly fellow wants the floppy, so you have to locate it and bring it back to him. In the English version, the old dude rewards you with experience points, but in the original, you get treated to... two screens of Japanese text!

So there are shower-scene similarities and floppy-disk-related differences, but the bottom line is you can rest assured that the gameplay wasn't hideously adjusted for the title's US release. And so I say what I've always said anyway: get the English one. The story is an extremely important part of the experience, and US CF2 is incredibly cheap these days anyway. (And if you dig this title, make sure to pick up CF4 Chapter 2. You'll want to find out what eventually happens to Van and crew.)

The Davis Cup Tennis CD

~ THE DAVIS CUP TENNIS ~

Loriciel / Micro World

Super CD-ROM

1992

I sure do love to waste money. In this particular case of diseconomy, I threw away a couple of bucks on the CD rendition of Davis Cup Tennis. It's pretty much the same game as its chip counterpart, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as DCT is by far the most realistic and enjoyable Turbo tennis title.

As far as differences go... well, let's start with the music, which is red book this time around. DCT's title-screen tune as arranged for the HuCard is actually quite distinct and memorable, and it's delivered in much the same manner here; but while the chip jumps right into it, the CD starts off quietly and "builds up" to the wonderful lines DCT fans are already familiar with. I prefer the Hu approach. In fact, comparing the Davis Cup soundtracks only served to make me appreciate the card's impressive drum sounds. Of course, tunes aren't much of a factor in this game anyway: aside from the aforementioned main theme, the only music comes at stat and menu screens and during national anthem performances.

But while the red book tracks didn't make much of an impression on me, they do at least represent an effort on Loriciel's part to make use of the CD medium. One might expect that some sort of cinematics would be included; after all, the PCE CD rendition of Kick Boxing by this very same company featured opening and ending cinemas not found in the US Panza TurboChip. But no such luck here. Play all the way through the Championship mode and you'll be treated to nothing but the trophy-hoisting scenes employed by the HuCard.

As for the CD version's gameplay, it's pretty much identical to the chip's. TG-16 Davis Cup veterans will feel right at home here.

The "differences" that are present aren't significant enough to make one rendition particularly better than the other, and both versions are dirt cheap, so get whichever one and have fun.

TaleSpin

Radiance - 1991 - U.S.A.

HuCard

Oh man, this game is fucking awful. It's horrid. Heinous. My good brother IvaNEC is probably a little more diplomatic in his assessment of the situation, so I'll defer to his synopsis on this one. It's safe to say I never want to have to touch this game again with a ten foot pole, so I'm going to forgo the obligatory screenshot session and leave you instead with some advice: do not ever buy this game, do not accept this game if someone offers to give it to you as a gift, and upon unwanted receipt of this game, dispose of it promptly.

The first time I powered up TaleSpin on my Duo, a black hole materialized in my game room with the apparent mission of ridding the universe of fun and good times. I tried to turn my Duo off as quickly as possible, but the damage was done. I immediately caught myself about to leap out my third story window to a splattery concrete end, and instead drove myself to the ER. They said my brain had been completely depleted of serotonin and dopamine, the neurotransmitters fused. They had never seen anything like it. A steady year-long diet of Xanax, Valium and Prozac was my only recourse and to this day I still have flashbacks, a side effect of the post-traumatic stress disorder I've since been diagnosed with.

Bonk's Revenge

RED/Hudson Soft - 1991 - U.S.A.

HuCard

Bonk's Revenge was the first Bonk title I ever owned. I remember saving my allowance for like 2 months so I could buy it the week it was released. I loved the game so much, it wasn't long before I made it a point to pick up Adventure. I even convinced one of my best friends to pick up Bonk's Revenge for the Gameboy. Much to our dismay, the Gameboy game..... sucked. It wasn't Bonk's Revenge, it wasn't even similar aside from the fact that it starred Bonk. I'm pretty sure this pissed my friend off, and made him even more envious of me because I owned a TurboGrafx-16 and he didn't. Oh well, I digress.

I look back on those early years of the TurboGrafx-16 with fondness, and much nostalgia. For a long time, Revenge ranked as one of my favorite video games. Over time, however, I grew more and more fond of Bonk's Adventure as the better experience. Then came Bonk 3, and at some point Revenge slipped from favorite to forgotten. I still go back and revisit Revenge every year or so, but unlike Adventure with its timeless magic, and Bonk 3 with its vast areas to explore, Revenge is just sort of..... there. I can't remember a time when I didn't know the game like the back of my hand-- every enemy, every secret. Being able to go back and replay the game with countless more gaming hours under my belt has afforded me the luxury of judging the game probably a little more objectively than my younger self.

Bonus rounds!

Collecting enough faces ears you a ride on a train where your friends offer moral support.

Bonk's Revenge is the black sheep of the series. The control is flawed, the classic gameplay is broken, and all the rules you know from part 1 and 3 you can throw out the window. Bonk is sluggish to respond, especially during the gameplay-crucial spin attacks. This artificially increases the difficulty of the game, a factor which is nullified by the surplus of extra lives to be found throughout the journey and the ease with which they are obtained. The result is a dynamic that becomes extremely irritating very quickly. Gone without a trace is possibly my favorite aspect of the Bonk games: being able to consecutively bounce an enemy combatant on your head for bonus points. Bonk's Revenge also borrows heavily from the soundtrack of Bonk's Adventure, making it the only game in the series to re-use music from a previous entry. Don't get me wrong. The Adventure soundtrack is a classic to be sure, but I would have appreciated more original numbers here. Florets also behave completely different in this episode.

Not that any of the Bonk games offer too much in the way of challenge, but Revenge was rendered unncessarily easy by increasing the maximum number of heart containers from five to eight. Add to this abundant extra men not-so-hidden in the levels and you've got a recipe for an easy clear. Too easy, if you ask me. The fifth stage doesn't even have a boss!

Revenge isn't all bad news, however; the new graphical engine gives Bonk a much needed facelift, seating the series a little more firmly in the 16-bit generation. You'll encounter waves of new enemies, many of which don't appear in any of the other four Bonk episodes. Level design is also much improved over Adventure, with stages less linear and more exploration-friendly, a concept not fully realized until Bonk 3. One success I'll grant Revenge is the revised Floret functionality, and I find it curious they didn't keep running with the idea in the later sequels. You can change the color of some Florets by bonking them (the color of the Floret determining it's behavior when you jump on it). Yellow Floret Sprungs can also be moved by bonking them, which if you ask me is a stroke of pure genius that wasn't even fully utilized.

Bonk's Revenge isn't an awful game by any means, but it's difficult to judge an episode in a series without comparing it to its fellows, and by those criteria I find it to be the weakest link.

Some of the bosses of Bonk's Revenge, including the iconic Dodogie (upper right).

The Original Six

IvaNEC's initial Turbo experiences didn't quite go according to plan...

It was December of 1989 when I laughed the laugh of a madman and elbow dropped my NES, smashing the system into a billion pieces.

"I don't need you anymore!" I yelled, gleefully flinging the gray-and-red remnants across the room.

Then I remembered that the awesome-looking Crystalis was due out in just a few months. I hastily reassembled the machine.

But my point had been made. I was (just about) ready to leave the unrefined 8-bit world behind and discover 16-bit Valhalla. My highly advanced console of choice? The TurboGrafx-16.

There really wasn't any question as to whether I would go with the Turbo or the Genesis. Screenshots of games like Keith Courage and R-Type completely blew me away. What brilliant colors! What enormous enemies! Yeah, the guy who hurled his heads at the hero in Altered Beast was cool, but he couldn't compare with the big, scary Deep Blue boss fish. Screw Tommy Lasorda Baseball; I wanted some manly barbarian-style hacking and slashing, and The Legendary Axe was sure to give it to me. Speaking of Axe, who could ever forget the first time they saw the TG-16 commercial showing off the giant Jagu?

Helping to seal the deal was the Electronic Gaming Monthly article that basically declared NEC's triumph in the United States inevitable based on the PC Engine's effortless slaughter of the Mega Drive overseas. Seemed like I couldn't go wrong with the mighty, can't-miss Turbo. So after swiping a few moneybags from my cousin Zigfriedolstoy's vault, I set off for my local video-game store with the confident swagger of a man headed toward a wondrous destiny of guaranteed gaming excellence.

Upon entering the shop, I noticed a TG-16 display running a Victory Run demo. A lone lad stood gazing at the screen, no doubt marveling at the amazing technology on exhibit before him. I walked on over to pass along my expertise on the 16-bit powerhouse he had just become acquainted with, to let him know that Victory Run was but the tip of an extraordinary iceberg.

He turned to me and said, "This thing sucks."

"Yeah... right," I replied with a scowl. We gave each other cold looks; enmity had evolved between us.

And with that tough-guy staredown, the 16-bit wars had begun.

We went our separate ways. He walked over to the Genesis aisle. I walked over to the... lazy-looking store manager, as there was no TurboGrafx aisle and I wanted to know what the hell was going on.

"Oh," he said. "You're the first person who's asked for one of those."

That's odd, I thought. Oh well. Word of mouth would spread and sales would heat up soon enough! All that was important at that moment was that the goofy manager was digging up a TG-16 from the back of the storeroom so that I could purchase it and take it home and start playing it.

Of course, before I could start playing it, I had to set it up, and setting it up necessitated removal of its back cover, which left the previously sleek console looking awfully fucking stupid. It was like discovering your hot girlfriend is hot only because of a lot of makeup and a wig. But at least the TurboPads had turbo switches! That was fucking rad.

The first game up, of course, was Keith Courage in Alpha Zones. The pack-in title always has to be first, after all. And, holy shit, did it blow me away right off the bat. A flashing title screen! The magnificence was blinding. Or maybe it was the glitchy manner in which the text finally settled/grinded into place. Either way, I was impressed.

Then I started playing the game. Hm. Little squeak-squeak sword noises and beanie-wearing villains weren't exactly what I had envisioned for 16-bit action. But, well, the sound of the enemies biting the dust was pretty explosive, at least.

Then Keith changed into his alpha suit or whatever it is.

Fucking awesome. Here we go, I thought.

And indeed, KC's graphics and audio stepped up big time in its underworld. Unfortunately, after bumbling along for a few seconds and making a blind leap into a spike pit, I didn't really feel like playing any more of the game.

Well, VideoGames & Computer Entertainment had warned me that KC's gameplay lacks depth. At least the chip had done the job of whetting my appetite for more awesome 16-bit tunes and visuals. And who knows, I thought, maybe the game itself will grow on me!

Seventeen years would pass before I'd bother with it again.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Next up was the TurboChip I was most looking forward to, the ultimate TurboGrafx title of the day... The Legendary Axe.

Now this is fucking badass, I thought, as I hacked up bats and high-leaping axemen to the groovy rhythm of a jungle-themed tune. The spider residing in the first level's pit and the bears at the end of the stage seemed fucking HUGE to me. No more midget-esque Birdos and Kraids acting as "bosses." Big monsters, awesome musical tracks--this is what 16-bit gaming was supposed to be about! Some amoeba thing knocked me into lava in Area 2, but with that level's haunting tune still running through my mind, I moved on to my next TurboChip with renewed enthusiasm.

And that next TurboChip was Victory Run, the very title whose honor I'd defended during the legendary shop confrontation described earlier. Man, I thought upon powering it up, what a nice-looking driving game. I walked over to my shelf of NES carts, picked up Rad Racer, and chucked the old-timer out the window. With a miscreantic smile on my face, I sat down to enjoy advanced racing action.

The smile vanished almost instantly. See, what screenshots and even the aforementioned store display failed to convey was just how poorly Victory Run plays. It's hard to begin with and extremely clunky on top of that. Time elapsed on my crash-ridden "run," leaving me angrily shaking my fist at the screen.

I decided that returning to The Legendary Axe was my only viable option at that point. But hey, I thought, with a little practice, maybe I'll come to like Victory Run after all.

Eighteen years would pass before I'd bother with it again.

Axe was great and would remain great in my book for all eternity, but I was young and impatient and a single title could hold my attention for only so long. I needed more games. Help arrived quickly in the forms of Vigilante and Fantasy Zone.

Vigilante--a fighting game with an attitude! Or so it seemed. I'd put a ridiculous amount of play time into NES Double Dragon, so the hours I'd end up devoting to a 16-bit brawler seemed inestimable.

Well, it was more like minutes. Like... six minutes. Because that's about how long it took me to crush the game on my very first try. My Genesis-owning friends' jibes about it basically being a Kung Fu clone didn't help alleviate the disappointment. Of course, I didn't express that disappointment; I argued against their accusations vehemently, in fact. But I knew what the truth was, and it burned.

Thank goodness Fantasy Zone had ridden into town that same day.

Even those snickering buddies of mine had a blast with FZ. I myself became so enamored with its pretty pastels, jolly music, and charismatic bosses that I proclaimed it my favorite game of all time. Of course, it kinda stuck in the back of my mind that I was singing the praises of a practically ancient Sega game while the Genesis owners in town were moving on to cool new things. But, look, I needed something to boast about as a Turbo fan, and I could play the Legendary Axe card only so many times.

Well, I had to play that card once more... when VG&CE declared Axe their 1989 Video Game of the Year. Andy Eddy and company had come through for me! I assembled a crowd of Genesis lovers and broke out the magazine, flaunting the feature.

"You can't beat this!" I yelled.

Unfortunately, they could. In the midst of my euphoria, I was handed a copy of the EGM awards issue and came crashing back down to Earth with a cold, hard thud.

The Genesis had been named System of the Year. I read the report and wept.

Those formerly unsympathetic Genesis fans consoled me with statements like,

"Just get a Genesis, dude."

I could pretend no longer. The show was over.

"Well, the Turbo has been a bit of a disappointment..."

And with that, say the scribes, the Genesis won its war versus the TurboGrafx-16. It had been an epic battle in which a winner could not be determined for a whole, oh, four days or so.

But I wasn't quite ready to give up on the TG-16. I'd heard about the insane intensity of a brash new shooter, a cocky young gun called Blazing Lazers. It was pretty much my last hope. All was riding on BL.

Even the Genesis fans were praying that it would all work out for me.

I took a deep breath, swiped another moneybag from Zigfriedolstoy's vault, and journeyed back to the local game shop. This would be the title I was waiting for. I just knew it.

Blazing Lazers, unfortunately, was out of stock. So I bought Alien Crush instead. A pinball game.

Looking to salvage what little was left of my Turbo's dignity with a fucking pinball title seemed a hopeless proposition.

But funnily enough, I spent hours in front of the TV that night, enjoying AC and digging its soundtrack, particularly the eerie Demon's Undulate tune. And I thought to myself, "You know, this console doesn't get the appreciation it deserves." And I played on, with a little bit of new hope, a little bit of anticipation for what was yet to come for the system...

And I bought a Genesis a few weeks later. Man, Thunder Force II was fucking awesome. And there was also the wonderful Castle of Illusion, which somehow managed to outdo J.J. & Jeff in the 16-bit cartoony-platformers duel.

But the Turbo hung around. What can I say? I'd become attached to the damn thing. And eventually Blazing Lazers did make its way into my collection and did indeed blow me the fuck away, as did other sweet cards like Bonk's Adventure. Once the CD unit finally dropped to a price I could afford and I got to play games like Ys Book I & II, Cosmic Fantasy 2, Gate of Thunder, and Shape Shifter, I experienced unforgettable moments that would not only entrench the Grafx in its long-maintained, never-relinquished position of being my favorite system but also validate its presence there. And when I eventually discovered import titles a few years later, well, my Turbo gaming was lifted to an entirely different and glorious realm.

Twenty years and hundreds of games later, my TG-16 is still with me. It had worked sans issues of any sort until it was ultimately set aside for a fancy Duo-R. As for Keith Courage, Legendary Axe, Victory Run, Vigilante, Fantasy Zone, and Alien Crush? They, too, are still with me. LA, FZ, and AC remain personal favorites. KC and VR did eventually grow on me--it took them a decade or two, but who's counting? And Vigilante, erm, still sucks. But it'll always hold a spot among that old, original crew, the batch of games I've come to look upon so fondly and dub The Original Six.

Without them and their collective inadequacy, I might never have discovered just how awesome a console the Genesis really is.

Splash Lake

~ SPLASH LAKE ~

NEC Avenue

CD-ROM

1992

It usually takes just one look at these overhead-view "action-puzzlers" to thoroughly disgust me, as they always remind me of Bomberman, which I think is one of the most overrated franchises around. Splash Lake certainly has commonalities with Bomberman: the player proceeds board by board, clearing each field of strange little enemies. But SL's eclectic cast, which features an oddball ostrich and amusing villains such as a chain-smoking tree stump, has charm that stupid-looking, "spacesuit"-wearing Bomberman and his dull circular foes lack.

Peck away at segments of bridge to drop your charismatic opponents into the lake. It sounds simple enough, but unlike many of the dimwits who oppose Bomberman, some of Splash's villains are pretty bright and can pull a few quick ones on the unalert player. Evil ostriches leap from falling platforms and then perform some structural obliteration of their own, snails nullify your efforts to bring the bridgework down by undoing the damage you've done, flames avoid fragile ground, phantoms play teleportation tricks, and snakes charge forward a la Zelda Ropes once they've spotted you.

It's a great bunch of bad guys. Sadly, there are no real bosses to lead them. Occasionally, you encounter larger creatures and one-off foes, but no particular scene really comes off as a "dramatic confrontation."

You'll have your hands full with the action as things are, though. And there's another element to take into account: each of the sixty (core) stages holds a secret item for you to poke around for and snatch up. Matters seem more frantic when you're trying to find and obtain these treats, especially during the already-tricky final stages.

But while the levels get trickier as you go along, they don't offer up much variety visually. It would've been nice if some boards featured backdrops other than water. How about some lava lakes or tar pits or something?

Well, not many chances were taken with the visuals, but the soundtrack is a different story. This is some of the silliest stuff you'll ever hear from T's Music. I can't say it isn't annoying at times, but I must admit that it fits the wacky adventure quite well.

Some appropriately humorous cinematics in the form of "Ostrich Theater" skits were also included, though they probably aren't exactly what you've come to expect from Turbo CD intermissions. Still, I bet they'll make you smile...

...and the game will do little to make you lose that smile before you reach the scene of the final sunset.