I’ve been playing old games so you don’t have to for a few weeks now, but not every game deserves 700 words or more to explain why they’ve stood the test of time or are best left remembered.

Just like a game show, then, it’s time for THE LIGHTNING ROUND, where the stakes can really get shaken up, or in this case, where some old classics get judged with lightning speed. Without further ado, let’s begin.

Super Mario World (SNES)

No clue what's going on here except for the best Mario game.

The best of the classic 2D Mario games. Yoshi’s Island is something else entirely but also very good.

I will now begin taking arguments for the case of Super Mario Bros. 3, but they’re all futile.

Sonic the Hedgehog (Genesis)

Skip ahead, please.

This is not the Sonic game you are looking for.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (Genesis)

Ah, sounds just like Christmas morning.

This, however, is. Such a textbook example of a sequel making improvements on the first game: better graphics, necessary improvements to gameplay, faster levels, great music. If memory serves, this was the one that was good when it needed to be good, too — Sonic had touched a nerve in gaming, especially in America, and the follow-up coincided with the Genesis’ big push. I don’t know how many other people got the Genesis and Sonic 2 pack, but that was under the Christmas tree for both myself and Sasquatch contributor Tyler.

Maybe this is driven too much by nostalgia, but popping it in and hearing the SE-GA refrain just took me back to a simpler time. Anything that gets us to harken back to awesome childhood memories gets treated with a certain amount of reverence, but I also feel like Sonic 2 stands up. It feels faster and plays tighter than its predecessor, with just enough improvements and gameplay facets to make it really feel like a deep experience. Sure, you can blast through it pretty quickly when you know what you’re doing, but can’t you say the same of the Mario games?

The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past (SNES)

I swear to god I’m going to actually give this game more time soon. It’s just so…daunting. It’s like being stuck on the first page of the novel that everyone keeps telling you is awesome.

Mortal Kombat (SNES)

Digitized sprites have not aged very well, have they?

I may be biased a bit toward Street Fighter, but I just feel like this is dated as hell. Thanks to having been too young to get parental clearance to play the original when it was new (or, for that matter, old enough to figure out ways around that) and having been older when the series hit a long crappy streak, I don’t have the sort of nostalgia others have toward Mortal Kombat.

Strangely, thanks to the hype around the new series reboot that was released last week, I’m trying to get myself into these games. Key word, though, is trying. Maybe I need to go spend some time reading up on the play mechanics, but it feels kind of like a one-on-one 2D brawler instead of what I’d typically consider a fighting game. I know there are systems and mechanics under the surface, but they’re awful hard to find.

I guess this must be how it is to approach Street Fighter without any background, huh?

Ninja Gaiden (NES)

This is the first level. I know this because it isn't a part of Ninja Gaiden that causes me to swear. Usually.

I can’t believe I *gets attacked by dive-bombing bird* could actually play *gets swooped by another bird* this game for any amount of time wh-*gets knocked by bird into pit, cue game over music*

FUCK!

You know what? Yeah, this is technically an 8-bit game, but it took me playing the ROM of the 16-bit Ninja Gaiden Collection to actually get through it. Thank god for cheat codes built into questionably legal software, I suppose. I had this game when I was a wee lad in elementary school and I can’t believe I actually had the patience to make it decently far into the game. Of course, nothing was like when my cousin and I brutally attacked Ninja Gaiden with a Game Genie, but that’s another matter. In any case, this game is a classic example of how abhorrently hard old games can be.

Donkey Kong Country (SNES)

What are you up to? Oh, just swimming around underwater with a marlin. You?

Is it a step down compared to the Mario games? Probably. It still blew the doors off everyone when it was released, pushed the SNES hardware, reflects more Western game design choices and has pretty awesome music. Does it hold up to the test of time? Ehhhh….kind of. For some reason, Mario and Sonic haven’t aged as quickly as DKC; maybe it’s because DKC tries to be more of its time period, the mid-1990s, than either of those (Funky Kong says hi). It also doesn’t quite feel as fit a platformer as Super Mario World, Yoshi’s Island, or a Sonic game.

The Overdrive continues unabated. This time Doug is looking at the king of all fighters, the Street Fighter series. Other entries in the Retrospective category can be found here.

This month is the 20th anniversary of Street Fighter II. Let that sink in for a while; how old were you 20 years ago? For how much of your life have you used a joystick and six buttons to try and beat up your opponent?

For my money, the most amazing thing about the Street Fighter series is how such a simple core concept has proven to be both flexible and timeless. I’m not going to do a full, detailed analysis of the history of the series — 1up has done a decent job of that in recent weeks, including an excellent SF-centric episode of the revived Retronauts podcast — but instead point out a couple of games in the series that have meant quite a bit to me and my appreciation of the greater series. It’s a high-quality franchise, but some of the titles mean more than others.

Street Fighter Alpha 3

I never quite could figure out how best to use Street Fighter Alpha 3's "Variable-ISM" super meter mode.

Back when Street Fighter II and its infinite 16-bit revisions (Championship Edition, Turbo, Hyper Fighting, Super, etc) were new, I was way too young to appreciate what was going on; pick the girl, mash buttons to get her to kick forever, be amazed when something cool happens or pick the red karate guy, reel back and wonder how you got him to throw a fireball or spin like a top in the air. It was still fun though, which is something of a testament to the mechanics of Street Fighter, but I was approaching the game as an ignorant kid.

Fast forward a few years and a couple of console generations, and Street Fighter Alpha 3 was the one where I learned what the hell I was doing. I rented it once for PlayStation and then, when I found it cheap at a Hollywood Video for Dreamcast, I knew I had to buy it. I’d already spent an inordinate amount of time learning a fighting game, Soul Calibur; now, this great-looking 2D fighter was available, and it was time to figure out what I’d missed before. EGM said it was an arcade-perfect port, and that was really all the prodding I needed.

What a re-introduction. Alpha 3 was worlds ahead of what I knew from the SFII era; with three different ways to control a super meter, alpha counters, and more nuanced combos, this was a distinctly evolved product from what I knew on the SNES. However, it allowed me to dig deep and learn characters and the fighting system at the heart of the Street Fighter series. I learned shotokans and shoto-clones, the intricacies of charge characters, and the fine balance between speed, power and health presented by the game’s wide selection of characters. Even within the various shotos, you have four characters with subtle differences, and then Dan for when you’re drunk or want to challenge yourself. I also learned to hate the standard Dreamcast controller, but that’s another matter for another time.

It still holds up, too, of course. Alpha 3 remains my favorite true 2D fighting game, partially because it was the first I dug into, but also because of the wide variety of characters and great, balanced action.

Marvel vs. Capcom 2

MY GOD IT'S FULL OF STARS!

And from the technical styles of Alpha 3, we uncork the madness of Marvel vs. Capcom 2. If it hadn’t been re-released on Xbox Live Arcade and PlayStation Network, I would perpetually be trying to track down a copy of this for the Dreamcast. There’s a reason brand-new sealed copies go for more than $300: It was published in somewhat limited numbers for the Dreamcast, but is also one of the best-remembered 2D fighters of all time.

Fire the game up and hold on. While the previous “versus” games stayed close to the established Street Fighter formula, MvC2 was the first that really broke away and differentiated itself. From six buttons down to four, the controls are simplified, but it’s not just a game for beginners — streamlining just allows easier access to insanity. Make no mistake, because that’s what the game is: unbridled 2D insanity — fighting game sprite-porn. Everything is over the top, and the super combos are indicative of this.

Seriously, MvC2 is absolutely bananas. In a good way.

I’ll also take a second to tip my cap to another Street Fighter game you can go out and download right now, Super Street Fighter II Turbo HD Remix. This recognition is not just for having the most Street Fighter-est game name of all time, but for being an incredibly good remake of 16-bit Street Fighter II. It’s SFII as we want to remember it, but with slight rebalance tweaks to perfect the fighting and an amazing graphical and musical remastering to make the game stand out in the HD era. Seriously, I fired this up the other day for the first time in a long while and it almost made me feel like the dude in that old hi-fi ad, totally blown away.

Plus, it was the first contemporary Street Fighter game to “get” online play, with the online lobby system allowing eight people to spectate and quarter up at a time. Doing this with friends online is awesome fun. GIVE ‘EM THE GIEF!

Super Street Fighter IV

Super Street Fighter IV – Return of the king

Street Fighter on the cover of a video game magazine? It was like the mid-90s had never left a couple years ago when Street Fighter IV came back. Super took it up another level, adding characters and gameplay twists — and coming out for $40 brand new! — and is a worthy heir to the throne. Yes, I know, this isn’t an old game — but I love it. There’s a lot to learn in the game, but it’s still open to newcomers who can pick up the gameplay and have fun.

Not gonna go into too much about Super Street Fighter IV, but let me put it this way: while it does have solid online play, before Nick left to work in Texas we would get together on the regular to throw down, old-school same-couch style. Few other games in the current, networked era inspire that sort of competition.

Our Retrospective Overload continues unabated, and this time we’re heading back 17 years to 1994. You can find other articles in this series (and our previous Retrospectives) through this link.

The Super NES and I have an interesting history. It’s a relatively brief one too, as I’ve only owned one since college. For reasons that seem almost inexplicable more than a decade later, I was a Sega Genesis kid; I probably liked the advertisements and Sonic the Hedgehog, but these are sheer guesses as opposed to recollection of facts. Regardless, I remember ripping open a package on Christmas morning and being greeted by the Genesis and Sonic 2 and that was that.

That meant that, in its proper time period, I never had a SNES. My exposure was limited to playing at my friends’ house down the street and, being kids, there were just some things we didn’t really know. I sampled many SNES classics, like Super Mario World, Yoshi’s Island, Mario Kart, Donkey Kong Country, and more. But things slip through the cracks, and that’s why I’ve never played Super Metroid.

Imagine my surprise when I opened up Electronic Gaming Monthly‘s 2003 featuring discussing the best games of all time — and this Super Metroid game topped the list. I mean, the name was familiar — the GameCube Metroid Prime games had hit by that time, after all — but still: What the hell? How could I have never heard of what my spiritual guide, EGM, was telling me was the greatest game of all time? After that moment of bewilderment I probably went back to playing something on the Xbox and thinking about high school, but that surprise has stuck with me ever since.

The re-release of Castlevania: Symphony of the Night on Xbox Live Arcade was Doug's "Metroidvania" gateway drug.

My appreciation for Metroid began with the Xbox Live Arcade update of Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. Many games (including recent handheld Castlevanias and XBLA exclusive Shadow Complex) can lay claim to being in the “Metroidvania” genre, but the two high-water marks are Symphony of the Night and — of course — Super Metroid. After devouring SotN twice through, I was sold on the concept. And now I’m finally taking the time to go through its spiritual predecessor.

What really can be said to judge Super Metroid, though? It’s practically perfect. I really have nothing to add to the echo chamber. The graphics are straight out of 1994 but the execution is superb;  I honestly think 16-bit games have aged better than 8-bit games, so there are no complaints from me. The sound is amazing, both in quality and in execution, with the music hanging like a light aural fog as you unfold the game. After the initial hour or so spent flailing around and gaining my footing, I’ve come to grips with what the game wants me to do and the controls are tight enough to allow it. My only real complaint is that it handles tracking down upgrades in a more obsessive-compulsive manner than Symphony of the Night did; the map sprawled out a bit more in that PlayStation classic, whereas in Super Metroid it’s about shooting and bombing every wall imaginable.

Despite those OCD demands, I’m finding the puzzle elements of the platforming more rewarding than some of the better platformer offspring of the last few years. Games like Braid and Limbo put more emphasis on the puzzles as opposed to twitchy action and combat — it’s an interesting twist on the genre and a big difference, but the design of puzzles in Super Metroid brings it to mind. Though Nick may disagree, the final puzzles feel too punishingly hard. While Super Metroid may inspire you to bomb every room corner in a feeble attempt to figure out which way is next, the game itself doesn’t feel as smug or clever in the way those new platformers do when solving the puzzles.

If you've played Super Metroid a number of times, you'll recognize where Doug is in the game and what power-up he'd just found.

The most impressive aspect of Super Metroid has to be the way the game guides you through the process of upgrading, exploration and improvement — all the way to the end of the game. It doesn’t bring up a signpost that says “You can’t go here yet”; the most obvious way the game explains this is by the missile/super missile-coded doorways. Also impressive was when I followed my nose down to Norfair and tried to enter a room that instantly almost killed me. Time to go find the anti-heat suit! The Metroidvania trope of making you collect all your power-ups via exploration certainly is definitely a trope for a good reason, but damned if it doesn’t work. So many games can learn from the mantra “show, don’t tell” that Super Metroid makes use of so well.

I may be quite a few years behind when it comes to appreciating Super Metroid, and even then arrived after detouring to visit games that simply aped the master. But when it comes down to it, Super Metroid has not aged one iota.

I’d like to introduce the Silicon Sasquatch readership to our newest contributor. Dan Phipps, long a friend of Sasquatch editors Doug and Nick, is not just a good buddy but also a diehard gamer and generalized nerd. Equally at home behind a console controller, PC keyboard or 20-sided die, he has an intelligent and irreverent writing style. His look at Lugaru HD fits in with our Retrospective Overdrive. Without further ado, take it away, Dan!

I needed a break from Fallout: New Vegas. I had been playing it for what felt like days and had barely scratched the surface of my persistently increasing list of quests. In times of trouble like these, I’ll usually re-install Deus Ex and try to beat the game (again) with some absurd restriction like only using rocket launchers or swords. But not this time. This time I stumbled upon a treasure trove of games in my Steam account, and I have almost no recollection of how they got there.

One of those titles was Lugaru HD. I couldn’t find any record of buying it during the last Steam Orgy of Wasted Money this past holiday season. Because Steam allows one to acquire games without typing in credit card info or taking a breathalyzer test, it’s not unheard of for me to make bad financial decisions. It is uniquely odd for me to have no memory of the acquisition, though. And there sat Lugaru, a mystery wrapped in an enigma left in my games library.

It turns out that the first Humble Indie Bundle, which I purchased with the intent of only playing World of Goo, included this title. I must have activated it on Steam out of principle and promptly forgotten it existed. The time had come to actually give it a shot.

Lugaru HD is a rabbit-centric third-person brawler made by Wolfire Games. Responsible for assembling the Humble Indie Bundle, Wolfire has received a great deal more attention as an indie darling of late, though a cursory bit of Google-fu showed that Lugaru was actually something of a cult hit back in the day.

Lugaru HD features rabbits beating the ever-loving crap in ways that are very pleasing. Who knew such iteration of action-brawlers was possible?

The original Lugaru was a shareware title initially available on the Mac, which in 2005 didn’t have many non-Blizzard titles available. As a result, an entirely unexpected mod community sprang up in its wake; as Wolfire moved on to larger projects, they upgraded the textures, slapped HD on the title, gave it a $10 price tag, and then turned around and offered it for as little as a penny as part of the HIB.

Lugaru should be commended for its unique approach to an established genre. I’ve not spent a lot of time reflecting on what an anthropomorphic rabbit knife fight would look like, but it’s obvious that Wolfire has put in that hard work. When you jump, you soar across the (admittedly barren) terrain. Combat feels fast and brutal, though the actual mechanics behind it are seemingly inexplicable. Some reference is made to knives and other weapons doing permanent damage, implying that your punches and kicks only hurt temporarily. Your opponents seem to either pop back up endlessly or go down after one or two solid blows. The visual cues that your character, Turner, is about to die are difficult to interpret and offer little help. Also, there’s a meaningless point system that feels out of place given how perilously close you are to dying in every fight.

When the combat works, however, it is brilliant fun. Sneaking up behind a patrolling bandit, knife in hand, and slicing their throat is thrilling, especially because it saves you a dangerous frontal confrontation. You will have to retry levels repeatedly once the going gets tough, but success feels glorious.

The moment you go from fighting other rabbits to fighting wolves in Lugaru HD is when Dan decided the fun had stopped. Granted, cheap, instant death never sounds fun in any circumstance.

Everything else about Lugaru is Zardoz-caliber weird. Turner lives with his wife and child in a commune of rabbits that do nothing but hang around a weird, rocky outcropping in the middle of a grassy wasteland. After Turner’s family is murdered by bandits, he sets out for revenge, uncovering a royal conspiracy (?) that pits him against the rabbit bandits, the only force capable of defending them from an invasion of wolves. There is a bloodless coup, and Turner sets out to confront the Alpha wolf, staving off an invasion. I really loved the Redwall-esque setting, but the haphazard writing made me wish the upgrade to HD involved more than different textures.

As soon as I was pitted against a trio of patrolling wolves, the game was effectively over for me. Taking down even one wolf demands insane perfection from a game I had been enjoying for its sloppiness. Lacking a cohesive narrative to drive me forward, I didn’t feel all that bad stopping when it ceased to be fun. If you bought the Humble Bundle and haven’t played Lugaru yet, I’d heartily recommend giving it the time for a quick play through. However, given the wide range of budget titles available, I can’t say I’d be happy if I’d dropped the cash on this particular title. But if nothing else, I’m now excited about the proposed sequel.

And so we begin the odyssey into the depths of my old games pile. Leading off is an oldie but a goodie: Jet Set Radio Future. Catch our introduction to the Retrospective Overdrive here, and all of our previous Retrospective articles can be found here.

I’m not going to lie: I’d almost completely forgotten about Jet Set Radio Future. I mean, I remember that it exists — and I have a copy of the split-single version of it that came with my original Xbox — but when my mind thinks “Jet Set Radio,” it goes straight to the Dreamcast original, not the 2002 follow-up.

After starting the game back up, though, I’m going to have to reassess my opinion. Jet Set/Grind Radio on the Dreamcast may be able to tug on my heart-strings, but JSRF may be the better game.

If you haven’t played one of these games: first, shame on you! You can find it dirt-cheap now because it was an Xbox pack-in for a long time, and it’s backwards compatible on Xbox 360. But second, it’s an action game all about zooming around on inline-skates in a near-future version of Tokyo and spraying graffiti. There’s a counter-culture storyline and a The Warriors-esque radio DJ slash narrator in the form of DJ Professor K, who is awesome. And, of course, the graphic style and music are both perfectly pitched for the game and really, really awesome. Seriously, it’s awesome.

Even though it’s a game from only one console generation ago, 2002 may as well be 1,000 years ago in the gaming industry. But one of the biggest takeaways I have from spending time with Jet Set Radio Future is that so much has been streamlined and refined in the past eight years in gaming. The menu system could be better (plus some allow you to use the analog stick and others force you to use the D-pad? Strange), the game could use automatic saving and checkpoints in levels, and perhaps the maps could be better designed. But in the grand scheme of things, they’re minor annoyances that show just how far your average game in 2011 has come.

The 99th Street stage in JSRF is neon paradise. It's also the level that struggles the most when emulated on Xbox 360.

No, the biggest shock is that the game still holds up so well. Okay, so the graphics are a little rough, but it’s not the design or style of the game — it’s the clipping and slowdown, though the latter may be due to the Xbox 360′s emulation. Everything from characters to backgrounds has a well-executed style that may be too futuristic compared with Jet Grind Radio, but it certainly is much more impressive. Levels are designed well, too — my memory of Jet Grind Radio is that the levels were cramped arenas or snaking streets, but in Future they’re much larger, a bit more free-flowing. One I just got to, Kibogaoka Hill, has you grinding high wires above a neighborhood of shacks, and almost feels like it’s designed to be skied down.

Fortunately the controls hold up, too. Compared with Jet Grind Radio, you can do multiple tricks during a grind by pressing the X button; however, stringing together moves is a rhythm-based system and one bad step pauses you for a few seconds. The movement and jumping is weighted well. However, this game suffers from one anachronism — camera control is mapped to the left trigger, and all you can do is re-center the view. In a world where right stick-controlled views are the norm, it takes some adjustment.

Maybe I’m too big a fan to really provide an honest assessment of the game, but I’ve just sunk nine hours into an eight-year-old Xbox game and haven’t felt like it’s been a waste of time. In fact, it’s really whetted my appetite — I feel like I’ll complete the playthrough and fire up the Dreamcast just to compare the two. And while it’s unfortunate that a sequel is probably never going to happen, at least the two games Sega made in this franchise are classics in their own right.

Mr. Peabody, set the Way-Back Machine to "old video games"!

I really need to stop playing Pro Evo Soccer 2010. From there, an idea is born: I need to play other games; unfortunately, at this point in time, I can’t afford to go keep up on new releases. So, when you can’t look outside for story ideas, you look inside. Unsurprisingly, being a gigantic nerd, I have a stockpile of games for systems that are sitting forlorn and unloved while my Xbox 360 fan kicks up to high once again.

Throughout the history of Silicon Sasquatch, I’ve enjoyed taking a look back at gaming in our Retrospective articles. I feel like much can be gathered by playing and analyzing games of all vintages; after sampling even a couple of the games I’m thinking about covering in depth, it’s amazing the issues and thoughts, positive and negative, that you can find.

So let’s fire up the good ‘ol way-back machine for a few weeks (or…months? WHO KNOWS!) and dig through the decaying pile of games that are all but forgotten in the contemporary hype machine. The point is just to bring back some games you might not have thought of in a while and see if they stand up to their memory, are better than remembered, or do not stand up to 2011 standards.

Please feel free to send in suggestions for games, too, and share your memories for some of these older games. Let’s get old, people!

Regards,

The Management

Here at Silicon Sasquatch, we feel that old games deserve some love too. From time to time, we want to look back at games and, in this case, consoles that have made a big impact. It is in that spirit — fond memories combined with analysis of legacy — that we present a Retrospective. This time: the Sega Dreamcast.

It’s very difficult for me to be objective about the Sega Dreamcast. Excuse me if this retrospective skirts into personal narrative; to me, the Dreamcast and my experience with it are one and the same. The system was announced and launched at the time I was transitioning from being a kid who played video games a lot to a “hardcore gamer,” one who follows video game news in magazines and on the then-nascent online scene. The Dreamcast’s September 9, 1999 launch was the first time I paid attention to such an event — and, in fairness, was one of the first times a console launch truly became an event.

The Dreamcast lived an all-too-brief life; despite promising software and innovative hardware, Sega’s last console gamble had less than three years of official support.

It was early 1998 when I first saw the unveiling of Sega’s new Dreamcast system in the pages of Electronic Gaming Monthly (I believe the unveiling image is what’s at the top of this article). With the promise of jumping ahead of the market with revitalized versions of Sega’s classic series (like Virtua Fighter, Sonic the Hedgehog, Sega Rally, and more), this looked tantalizing from the start. As the year continued and more information trickled out ahead of the Dreamcast’s November 1998 Japanese launch, things kept looking better and better — Sonic Adventure looked revelatory, Virtua Fighter 3 was arcade-perfect, and the console gained third-party support from companies like Capcom, Namco, and Ubisoft.

Seeing this scene in motion actually blew minds at Toys 'R Us and Babbages nationwide in 1999.

By the time the summer of 1999 came around, I was hooked; I needed this system. I traded in my PlayStation and got my Dreamcast a week after launch with the absolute bare minimum (Sonic Adventure and a memory card would come later). Though Sonic’s true 3D debut hasn’t worn well, the graphics were stunning at the time. One particular sequence from early in the game, featuring Sonic running toward the camera while chased by an Orca whale, was part of the demo that was on kiosks during the summer, and it looked absolutely stunning for 1999. It made PlayStation and Nintendo 64 games look dated immediately.

However, little of the game holds up today. Alongside Sonic’s levels were ones featuring side-characters like Tails, Knuckles, Amy, and (ugh) Big the Cat, and none were as slick or fun as the blue blur’s levels. The story and Mario 64-esque open world sections are laughably bad. With a little better writing, tossing aside most of the non-fun levels, and some control changes, an HD re-make of Sonic Adventure would be brilliant. Sadly, faults and all, this game is the current high-water mark for 3D Sonic games.

Soul Calibur set the bar for graphics, gameplay depth, and single-player replayability for fighters

The true revelation from launch, though, was Soul Calibur. Namco’s fighter was indisputably the prettiest home console game by a wide stretch, and it set a new high-water mark for home versions of fighting games. Sure, the mission mode may not have a comprehensible story, but it provided hours of challenge and tons of unlockables, providing much-needed depth. That said, good graphics and tons of missions do not a fighter make; fortunately, Soul Calibur is still one of the best, most well-balanced fighting games ever due to its 3D movement and dodging, the Guard Impact parry and blocking system, and varied characters and styles. It is easily the best game from the launch lineup, and the fighting arguably is better than in its successors.

Soul Calibur was just the first of a series of great arcade games ported to the Dreamcast. The list is long: Sega Rally 2, Crazy Taxi, Virtua Tennis, Samba de Amgio, Virtual On, House of the Dead 2, and Capcom fighters including Street Fighter Alpha 3, Street Fighter 3, and Marvel vs. Capcom 2 all made their way from arcades to the Dreamcast. One of the reasons for all the arcade ports was that Sega’s arcade hardware at the time, known as NAOMI, was basically identical to the Dreamcast. This allowed for incredibly fast, easy ports of many games.

Another key concept connected with the Dreamcast is innovation. The console included a 56k modem and web browsing software — the first system to pack Internet connectivity in, and the first system to encourage online play en masse when SegaNet launched in 2000. The VMU, the Dreamcast’s memory card, featured a screen that could be viewed through the controller, and buttons and a D-pad to play minigames on — a kind of mini-Game Boy. Neither feature was taken advantage of too often, and the greatest legacy of the VMU is its beeping when you turn the system on…warning you that the batteries are dead. It becomes quite the chorus if you have four VMUs plugged in.

*Record scratch* JET SET RAAAAAAAADIOOOOOOOOOOOO

The other half of innovation comes from the software produced for the system. Along with the arcade ports, games like Typing of the Dead (one part zombie killing, one part typing tutor!), Chu-Chu Rocket (a brilliantly cute puzzle game), Seaman (a sarcastic pet simulator), and Rez (trippy shooter/rhythm game) personify the wacky, creative streak seen in many of the Dreamcast’s best games. Yu Suzuki’s Shenmue was grandiose in concept, but it lacked in execution and lost a little something in its translation to the American market; however, the open-world gameplay (including varied real-life style minigames) definitely played a part in inspiring games like Grand Theft Auto III.

Jet Grind Radio was one of the ultimate executions of style on the Dreamcast, partnering in-line skating and graffiti with a freedom-fighting storyline and plenty of contemporary Tokyo cool, including one of the best video game soundtracks ever. Skies of Arcadia also became the spiritual successor to the Phantasy Star series, while Phantasy Star Online brought the loot-aholic ways of Diablo and the persistence of MMORPGs to console gamers.

KHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!!!!!

Alas, we all know that the Dreamcast’s story did not feature a happy ending. The launch of the PlayStation 2 in North America (which was Sega’s key market for the Dreamcast at the time) proved that the Sony brand, the PS2′s DVD playing capability and the far-off promise of Metal Gear and Final Fantasy games could outsell a system that was actually on store shelves and had very good software available (why no, I’m not still bitter about that at all). Considering Sega put all of its financial eggs in the Dreamcast basket, the PS2 launch’s impact meant the system’s end was inevitable.

What’s worse, Sega has struggled as a software-only developer in recent years — Xbox follow-ups to Jet Set Radio, Panzer Dragoon and Phantasy Star Online were neither critical darlings nor sales dynamos, and it seems the death of arcades has sapped Sega of much of its creative powers. However, the Yakuza and Valkyria Chronicles series on PlayStation 3 prove that Sega can still develop critically acclaimed games. There’s also the perennial hope that the next Sonic the Hedgehog game is going to be the one that restores the series’ lost glory (though hope for that is waning, to say the least).

However, the legacy of Sega’s final home console lives on. The Dreamcast is still well-remembered by hardcore gamers (like your’s truly), becoming a cult favorite; some believe it has as strong a library as even the Super NES. And as Soul Calibur’s loading screen famously said, “The Legend Will Never Die” — an appropriate tagline for a system cut off in its prime.

Here at Silicon Sasquatch, we feel that old games deserve some love too. From time to time, we want to look back at games that have made a big impact — especially when a new version of an old favorite is scheduled to be released. It is in that context that we present to you another Retrospective article, this time on arcade and 16-bit classic NBA Jam.

It’s no secret that I am a sports guy. Many times, though, sports games are commodities: The franchises develop a lineage (à la Madden NFL) while the details on individual entries from each year are often forgotten.

NBA Jam is different. It may not be the first arcade sports game, or even the first arcade basketball game, but it was one of the first blockbuster arcade games, and it’s one that still resounds in the gaming community to this day. It’s also one of the few sports games that holds just as much nostalgia for nerds as it does for jocks. Most importantly, it’s still fun — and a new one is on the way.

Every grocery store and 7-11 worth its salt had one of these back in the day.

Developed by Midway, the original NBA Jam was a skunkworks project that eventually earned more than $1 billion in revenue in the arcades. Home ports for the Super NES and Genesis followed, as did sequels, spin-offs (like NBA Hangtime and NBA Showtime) and games inspired by the series (EA’s last-gen NBA Street titles, for one).

The version of NBA Jam on home consoles is what I’m most familiar with. My childhood best friends had copies of the Sega Genesis version of the game, and many an afternoon was whiled away throwing down dunks and trying to get on fire. The game’s simplified interpretation of NBA rules, pared-down 2 on 2 gameplay, and flashy emphasis on big slam dunks and close games were really attractive and addictive, even to elementary school kids.

Oh yes…there were definitely cheat codes.

One of the real highlights of that time was trying to find all the cheat codes and secret characters in the game. Remember, this was a time before the Internet — and video game magazines were not something your average 3rd or 4th grader read on a regular basis. Codes passed like rumors through the schoolyard, and it’s only now that I realize who that P-Funk guy was they put into the game. Of course, the tag team of Bill Clinton and Al Gore was also something special.

The amazing thing is that, even now, the game holds up. Fellow Sasquatch editor Nick and I have put some time into the NBA Jam cabinet at Ground Kontrol, and playing a full 4-player matchup is still great fun. It’s simple enough to learn and strategize that within one quarter of a game I was able to help Nick drop 3-pointers and dunk on fools. We’ve even discussed heading down there just for NBA Jam.

PIPPEN! Bulls and Blazers great Scottie Pippen was a god in NBA Jam.

That’s part of the reason why I’m so excited for EA Sports’ renewal of NBA Jam due out this fall: the gameplay still holds up. As much as I love the old sprites and using the classic lineups from 1993, I believe that an update featuring better graphics and today’s stars will help capture a younger generation. Regardless, the old version will live on in arcades and emulators, so if EA royally screws it up, we’ll always have Midway’s classic.

Editor’s Note: In recognition of the tenth anniversary of one of the most controversial — and possibly misunderstood — entries in one of the most significant video game series in history, Silicon Sasquatch will spend the next month examining Final Fantasy VIII and its legacy. Frequent podcast guest Tyler Martin starts us off with a foreword:

How do you produce a follow-up to the biggest RPG of the 20th century?  Square had barely any time to answer this question.  Development on the seventh sequel to a series that wasn’t expected to outlast its initial outing began shortly after the American localization of Final Fantasy VII, a game that radically altered the perception of the franchise as well as the entire genre.


It wouldn’t be enough for Square to maintain the status quo:  Final Fantasy VII reinvented the series as one that promised an audiovisual tour-de-force.  Final Fantasy VIII needed to be bigger and better to hold the attention of gamers who ordinarily wouldn’t step near a R-P-G that didn’t stand for rocket-propelled grenade.  For better or for worse, Square accomplished its goal of creating a larger and technically superior sequel to Final Fantasy VII.

FFVIII carried over many trends from FFVII.  It maintained a more modern setting with cars, guns and computers; more physically realistic avatars; an angst-ridden, sword(ish)-wielding protagonist; and a villain’s theme song that features Latin chanting.  The intro cinematic alone gave fans, especially those who first encountered the series with Cloud’s epic, a comfortable blanket of familiarity. Almost nothing is static in the Final Fantasy series, however, and Final Fantasy VIII is no different.  New to the series were: a junction-based magic system; Guardian Forces, which were essential to combat as more than just summon-spells; and the Triple Triad card minigame, also known as the greatest side attraction in the history of the series — blitzball, eat your heart out.

It is unfortunate that the primary complaints upon Final Fantasy VIII’s reception were its most original ideas.  The battle system was tedious and easily exploited by endgame, and even the generally awe-inducing limit breaks were no longer reliable but seemingly random when the character’s health was in dire straits.  Perhaps most vilified was the story, which holds a heavy-handed theme of love — a bold new direction for games in the late ‘90s but melodramatic nonetheless.  The official logo for Final Fantasy VIII features primary protagonists Squall & Rinoa in a loving embrace — a slightly less marketable image than FFVII’s ominous meteor.

However, Final Fantasy VIII isn’t quite the black sheep of the series (that would be FFII with its SaGa-style leveling system.)  The game sold phenomenally well, even by Square standards, and gave PlayStation owners an epic, graphically amazing role-playing game that overcame any fears the Dreamcast, released on the same day as FFVIII, would overthrow Sony’s grey box.

Throughout the month of September we’ll be playing through Final Fantasy VIII again. While it may lack the same veneer it held when we were thirteen years old, we’ll be happily discussing any whimsical nostalgia and sighs & grunts exerted from having to get up off the couch to change discs.

Just as Assassin's Creed protagonist Altaïr overlooks the city below, we take a landscape look at the game

Editor’s note: We here at Silicon Sasquatch don’t think new games deserve all the attention. To illustrate that point we’re introducing our new Retrospective features: articles that focus an analytical eye on older releases in a non-review format. Our inaugural Retrospective takes a fresh look at Ubisoft Entertainment’s 2007 action-adventure game, Assassin’s Creed. This particular title made games press headlines at release — for reasons both good and bad. Scant details about Assassin’s Creed II have trickled out over the last month, and considering the goodly amount of time since the original was released, it seems like a perfect opportunity to look over Altaïr’s adventures with 20/20 hindsight. Enjoy.

Assassin’s Creed is confusing.

Developer Ubisoft Montreal manages to simultaneously offer a graphically beautiful game with very good, fluid controls while presenting an experience with enough frustrating pacing and banal mission structures to mire the player’s enjoyment in the muck.

I had never played the game until a few weeks ago, but being an astute follower of the gaming press and culture I know that the game’s reputation precedes it. From the barely hidden initial plot twist (SPOILER: It’s about two storylines, one modern and one during the Third Crusade) to the innovative free running exploration style and the controversy surrounding the game’s review scores — yes, I know about Assassin’s Creed.

Even so I’m surprised by how much I enjoy the game. The controls seem daunting at first, but fall into place quickly for experienced gamers. Further, the usage of the controls — holding down a button to switch between “high-visibility” activities like fighting and “low-visibility” ones like blending into the crowd — meshes well with the assassin, Altaïr, and his need slither about undetected while being ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

The game shines when the player must stay in the shadows — stealth kills are a rush, rewarding the player's patience

The problem I have with the game, though, is that it takes one fun idea and rubber-stamps it into a 12-plus-hour experience. You climb towers to fill out your map and ascertain your next investigation; from there you pickpocket, eavesdrop, intimidate or help out a fellow assassin to get the info you need. Gather enough information and you can attempt an assassination on the area’s boss. It sounds fine, but repeat the process nine times and it all becomes very…average. These activities in and of themselves are fun, but no remodeling of the established pattern causes the eyelids to droop — something that happens during the course of Assassin’s Creed’s plot, too.

The protagonist slot is shared between Altaïr, the Crusades-era assassin cover boy, and his 21st-century descendant Desmond, a lab-rat for a shadowy pharmaceutical company called Abstergo Industries. Both Altaïr and Desmond are tasked with completing their missions without knowing any of the background information or, really a reason why. Only as they untangle the mysteries do they begin to feel manipulated.

But as a whole it all feels a bit flat, and the motivations for both characters aren’t believable enough to prove too interesting. However, the way the distant relatives intertwine and mirror one another over the course of the game is very impressive.

I kept playing, though mostly because of my in-game wanderlust. Exploring the ancient cities of Jerusalem, Acre and Damascus is quite visually enjoyable. The graphics and game engine for Assassin’s Creed have aged well — the game looks gorgeous, there’s still a great rush from climbing a city’s high tower and taking a Leap of Faith swan dive. Even the combat engine is reliable. Fighting is hardly a highlight, though — the swordplay is a little stiff, and ranges wildly from making the player feel like a badass to feeling cornered and hopeless.

The animations used to bring Altaïr's climbing antics to life are impressive without relying on demanding control schemes

But taking a look back at Assassin’s Creed means looking at its spotty critical reception as well. The now-defunct Electronic Gaming Monthly famously panned the game with a three score-average rating of a 5 out of 10. Just above mediocre. IGN gave the game a 77 out of 100, which, when run through the IGN score filter, is also patently average. Edge gave the game a 7 out of 10.

One of the harshest critiques came from Destructoid, which gave it a 55/100 and called it “a disappointing, repetitive game.” However the review goes on to add, “Once you get past all that…there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t be able to have a hell of a fun time with it.”

Accusations at the time were whispers that claimed reviews which scored the game over a certain mark let the accompanying websites break the non-disclosure agreement’s review street date. It sounds good for Ubisoft in theory — if  all the pre-launch impressions of your game are positive, strong sales will likely follow. But it’s bad ethics in terms of principle, and the supposed pressure for “good” reviews backfired as other sites ran their own less-than-glowing reviews. Ubisoft was pushed into a corner: Would they admit they allowed positive reviews out first, or alternatively stay quiet and allow their NDA to be thoroughly abused?

In all honesty, the scores of 7s and the like seem about right. For all that Assassin’s Creed does right in terms of its gameplay, engine, graphics and design, it comes up short in a lot of other areas. Sometimes it tries too hard (the story), and sometimes it’s just uninspired (the lack of mission variety). The glowing reviews clearly came from individuals captivated by the scenery, while the negative reviews seem, to me at least, to strike a sort of middle ground.

Assassin’s Creed is neither groundbreaking nor a once-in-a-lifetime gaming experience. It’s certainly not a Game of the Year contender. Truly, it’s more akin to a movie like last summer’s Iron Man: A popcorn flick with artistic credentials that happens to do a damn good job of setting up the sequel.

If Assassin’s Creed II mends the shortcomings of the first game while keeping its solid fundamentals, Ubisoft may put out a title that won’t need manufactured positive press — it’ll make its own.