Final Fight started as a decent 2D beat-em-up arcade game in 1989, then was ported into a mediocre Super Nintendo one in 1991. Critics postulated that consoles of the day were simply no match for Final Fight. But they forgot about one system. They always forget about it. The only 16-bit system that could handle Final Fight. The chosen one.That's right.The Sega CD.
You forgot about the Sega CD? That makes me SO...DAMN...ANGRYYYYYY!!!!
In 1993, Capcom brought it's star beat-em-up to Sega's bastard add-on. Except it's not a bastard, it's the Sega CD, and I love it. It's got goofy flaws, but more than many other systems, it's got character. It also has the best 16-bit port of Final Fight by a mile, even though I am realizing as I play through it that maybe I just don't like Final Fight.
You don't like Final Fight? That makes me SO...DAMN...meh, actually, I don't care. Let's go get a schnitzel.
This Final Fight has the same story as usual. Mayor's daughter gets kidnapped by crime syndicate. Mayor and two others take on crime syndicate. The controls are the same as the others, as well. One button for jump and one for attack. Hit them at the same time to do a super move that drains some of your power bar. Push jump, then attack in mid-air to do to a flying kick. You can also grab an enemy and throw them if you get close. The game handles smoothly, though it still feels like there's no way to stop enemies from getting a hit in. It's just not quite fair. The levels are straightforward: head right, get to the end, though unlike the ones found in its superior Sega rival, Streets of Rage, they don't naturally build to a logical environmental conclusion--in Rage, you make your way through the city to the boss' tower, climb it, and fight through it, but in Final Fight, you just kind of go places.
And this lady can send you there. Oh, hi lady. Glad you're back from wherever Nintendo hid you.
This leads me to the point. Yes, unlike the SNES version, you can actually play Final Fight on the Sega CD in cooperative two-player mode with a buddy. Yes, unlike the SNES version there can actually be more than three bad guys on the screen, the backgrounds are more detailed, and the game rarely slows down. Also unlike the SNES version, there are actually some female baddies. Spencer Nilsen even gives this CD-cut of the game its own original score, featuring early 90's action-TV guitar and keyboard jams, far more memorable than the bland SNES score. There's even some voice-acting in the intro (though it's terrible, so just ignore it). This Sega CD version of Final Fight truly does the arcade original justice. There's just one problem. Another 2D beat-em-up already owns the Sega Genesis.
Oh, cool, they added two-player. You know what Sega beat-em-up already has two-player?
Yes, Streets of Rage is such a substantially better game than Final Fight, that bringing the other major beat-em-up franchise to a Sega system seems superfluous. Why pick up Final Fight when you can just play the more fun Streets of Rage? I may never pull out my Sega CD copy of Final Fight again, but I might actually go play through Streets of Rage again for the umpteenth time as soon as I finish this review.
However, the battle between Streets of Rage and Final Fight had just begun. Sega may have been one-in-done for the Final Fight franchise, but the SNES would pump out two more installments to challenge Streets of Rage 2 & 3. Who would come out on top? That's the topic of another review...in fact, I smell a series brewing.
Now this one is special. My Sega cousins blew my mind with the first Sonic the Hedgehog in the summer of 1991. However, nothing prepared me for Streets of Rage later that fall. I had played beat-em-up games in the arcades, like Final Fight and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Arcade Game, but they were nothing like this. Streets of Rage was gritty, visceral, with a blood-pumping soundtrack and dark urban setting that felt wholly original. And no arcade was necessary! We could play it in my cousin's den!
Streets of Rage, I will press any button you tell me to.
The crazy thing is that Streets of Rage still holds up, even outside the lens of nostalgia, without which, admittedly, I will never be capable of viewing it, hence this sentence may be a lie, but I doubt it. Streets of Rage uses a simple setup, "A" for a special movie, "B" to attack, and "C" to jump. You only get one special move per life, unless you earn an additional one. By tapping "B" rapidly as you pummel foes, you can do combos. By tapping B while you are in the air, you can do a flying kick. Hold B and C together and you can hit behind you. Get close to an enemy and press B, and you can grab them and throw them. That's it. About as simple as it gets.
As simple as kneeing this dude in the nuts.
The player essentially moves up, down, left, and right through the corridor of each level, attempting to get the angle on soon-to-be-beaten-senseless thugs. There are three characters to choose from, burly Adam, head-banded Axel, and the nimble Blaze. All three are ex-cops, determined to clean up the crime-infested city streets. The trio can pick up weapons like baseball bats, pipes, and knifes throughout each level, though using these changes the timing of attacks. Most importantly, two players can play at once cooperatively, taking on Streets of Rage together.
I've never felt closer to you than I do right now, though I do feel just a bit closer to this guy, who I have in a headlock
Streets of Rage is one of the best buddy team-up games ever, though the fact that you can damage your friend's character can also completely destroy you friendship in the heat of battle. Someone will most definitely pull out"You did that on purpose!" no matter how evil the other player's intentions actually are. It's awesome. Not quite as awesome: it's really easy to accidentally hit "A" in the thick of battle and waste the special move, which in this game involves a squad car pulling up and raining instant death fire upon all of the bad guys onscreen. Better to save it for the bosses, who aren't insta-killed, but are still extremely damaged by your backup's fiery justice.
"We'll just identify their bodies by their dental records."
The game looks great, with detailed, sometimes scrolling backgrounds, a wide array of color, both neon and gritty, well-designed, distinct characters, and cool environmental touches within each level, like wind-blown trash and rain. However, in the production department, it's Yuzo Koshiro's surprisingly atmospheric, early 90's club music-influenced soundtrack that's the star of the show. I can't stress enough how effective Koshiro's score for this game is, fully transporting the player into Streets of Rage's unique world--it's an all-time great. The sound effects are also delightful, punches popping satisfyingly. The best is the death gasp every enemy lets out when you've defeated them, letting you know its time to move on to another baddie.
Blaze, holding it down.
Thankfully, Sega's dreaded, "the game is only 15 minutes long so we have to make it impossible" bug was starting to wear off during Streets of Rage's development, as the game is suitably challenging, but not impossible, while still taking a good 45 minutes to complete.
The insane thing about the first Sonic the Hedgehog and Streets of Rage games is that in just a year, Sega would both completely top and perfect them with their sequels. Early 90's Sega was on fire!
Graphics: 8.5/10.0 Sound: 10.0/10.0 Gameplay: 9.5/10.0 Lasting Value 9.5/10.0 Overall (Not an Average): 9.5/10.0
And here is another one of those classic, early Sega Genesis games that sounds incredible, looks great, and is almost completely impossible.
Strider is Sega's port of Capcom's arcade game of the same name, a 2D side-scroller featuring the ninja, Strider Hiryu. Strider can run, jump, flip in the air, pull himself up ledges, slide into enemies, and most importantly, slash with his sword. Level design varies from good to unbelievably good, going in so many unexpected directions, it's better to expect the unexpected. For instance, start out on a snowy plain fighting wolves, slide under a shutting metal door, fight a giant, mechanized gorilla, climb up a cave wall to some vertical conveyor belts, fight through a system of electrical conduits, spring off of floating platforms, and climb aboard an airship bossed by a trio of evil acrobats. This describes what is probably Strider's most conventional level.
Why don't you point that thing someplace else?
While the level design is great, holy cow, do these levels, enemies, and Strider himself look incredible. People were amazed by these graphics in the early 90's, and compared to some of the lazily made indie 2D games of today, they still look absolutely revelatory. Strider is a huge, well-detailed and animated sprite, enemies are huge, and backgrounds look great, detailed, bold, and colorful. You know what's better than the colors, though?
The soundtrack, composed of phenomenal, complex, classically influenced tunes. makes perfect use of the Genesis' unique bassy tones. It's a classic. The best part is that each piece is dynamic, changing as Strider progresses through each new segment of a level. This all comes together to create a truly unique musical experience. The sound effects, though, are tinny and minimal. Of particular note is the fact that Strider's sword only makes a sound if it hits an enemy...otherwise, he swings it in silence.
"He Swings It In Silence" was also the moniker for my failed beat poet career.
I wish the silent sword was my only complaint, but unfortunately, the gameplay poses a far bigger problem. There are times where Strider is incredibly fun, exploding foes with Strider's sword, slashing through the game's ridiculously imaginative bosses. However, the overall experience features a considerable lack of polish. Enemies come from all directions, and their attacks are often unavoidable. The player often has to tap the attack button non-stop to take out incoming foes, and still, it's impossible to stop all of their attacks. The controls are also a bit imprecise: jumping accurately is often not an option. Of course, like most of those early Genesis games, a playthrough of the entire game only takes about 20-minutes, so to make up for it, the game has to be impossibly hard. A personal story to really drive this point home: Strider features a swap trick wherein the player can put a copy of Altered Beast into their Genesis, then quickly switch it out for Strider, and get infinite lives. A buddy of mine tried this trick with me, and it worked. The two of us have played through many games successfully over the last few decades. With an infinite amount of lives, we still could not beat Strider. It is that damned hard.
You see a thing of such grace and beauty as this mechanical gorilla, and your first instinct is to chop it in half?!
Still, Strider is so pretty, sounds so good, and features such insane, off-the-wall level and boss design, these factors almost overcome the fact that playing it can, at moments, be control-shattering-level infuriating. Maybe, I'll play it again right now.
"Wise fwom your gwave!" That's about the only thing most gamers know about the Sega Genesis original pack-in game, Altered Beast, and unless those gamers are huge Genesis fans, it's all they need to know.
"kick a ghoul/in the nuts/cover his buddy/in his guts"
Altered Beast is a beat-em-up, "A" to punch, "B" to kick, and "C" to jump. The game stars some random mythological muscle-dude, who must rescue Zeus' daughter from a bunch of ghouls. He traverses a barely 16-bit Roman mythological world, and if he smashes three blue three-headed wolves (until the instruction manual told me afterward, I thought they were bulls) in a level and collects their floating orbs, he gets to become the Altered Beast. Actually, he has to become the altered beast because if he doesn't, the level will go on and on forever, tossing the player a random blue three-headed wolf until they finally get three of the danged orb things. Once the player transforms into the beast, whose form is unique to each level, they gain new superpowers, and access to that level's boss.
I bet those ghouls are intimidated now! I know I am!
Altered Beast only contains five short levels, and to make up for that, it does the same thing nearly all games from that period did--be really, really hard. It gives the player three lives with no continues, and a hit meter with three bars that cannot be filled. Sure, you can beat the game in 15 minutes, but good luck doing it in your first 20 tries. And yet...there's something here.
Wolf Life.
First, the game's music is delicious, yummy Sega Genesis trippy, bassy jingles that make all of the dopamine flow around one's brain like marbles in a Rube Goldberg machine. Also, as caveman simplistic as the game's "Hulk Smash!" gameplay is, there's always something satisfying about punching a monster into bloody chunks. And finally, Altered Beast has a two-player mode where it is possible for one player to hog all of the orbs, becoming a giant, barrel-chested wolf-monster, while the other player has to stay a puny human in ancient Roman underwear. This is always a good thing, and perfect for a ribald night of retro-gaming. It was fun back in the day when it was just "regular" gaming, too.
Sonic the Hedgehog, Sega Genesis, Sonic Team, 1991
I don't remember what came first--the advertisement, or the experience. I'm pretty sure it was the commercial.
Sonic looked so awesome, so fast it was unbelievable. At the same time, I chafed at the derogatory comments toward Mario...I mean, I like Mario. Who doesn't like Mario? In 1991, the jumping plumber still rode high on Super Mario Bros. 3, released just a year before. However, my cousins who always got the newest thing, including the Sega Master System in the late 80's, got a Genesis and Sonic. Their house not only had all the coolest stuff, but was far less restricted than my home--I was already going there to watch Baywatch everyday, anyway. Why not try out Sonic while I was there?
What's the worst that could happen?
In just 30 seconds of play time, the game blew my mind. Sonic WAS so fast. So fast he could run upside-down. Way faster than Mario, even if the experience wasn't quite as well-refined. It was an entirely new experience! But 27(!) years later, does the experience still hold true?
Spoiler: The answer is the same as the one to, "does Sonic like to act out Lionel Richie songs?"
Honestly, it feels the same. Sonic the Hedgehog is a 2D platforming game, where the player runs the blue critter through loops and jumps him over spikes and pits. Sonic can also roll into a more resilient ball form if the players presses down on the control pad. Like Mario, Sonic collects 100 of a particular item to get an extra life. Unlike Mario, this item, in Sonic 's case, golden rings, acts effectively as a life preserver. Get hit and the rings all bounce away from sonic like loose change, but if Sonic can grab more, he is once again safe from death when he is hit again. Run out of rings and get hit, or fall into a pit, and Sonic's life is over.
The game's sense of speed is still excellent, with Sonic blazing through levels. The sense of discovery, and the way the game's designers laid out multiple paths through each level makes for an insanely replayable game. The insane difficultly level, trademark of early Genesis games, also increases replayability, as it will take many, many playthroughs for most gamers to make it to the end.
Get ready to become intimately familiar with this screen. Not...in a dirty way...unless that's your thing, I guess.
It must be said, when there's a lot going on, the Genesis can't quite handle it, and the framerate slows down to a stutter for moments. This is one of many ways the first Sonic is also a little rougher around the edges than its descendents (the Sonic's 2, 3, and 4). Another way is the gameplay, itself. There are times it feels like the developers are punishing the player for going fast--an unseen spike will suddenly shoot from the ground, or a hidden enemy will dart in from behind and take out Sonic--Sonic the Hedgehog features cheap hits galore. There are also times the controls and level-designs clash just a little bit--for instance, Sonic might lose momentum on a hill, and can only get over it with great difficulty and maximum player effort.
Obviously, Dr. Robotnik programmed those parts of the game...or as we liked to call him in 1991, "Dr. Robuttnik." The 90's were so edgy.
The game's graphics are bright and iconic, with memorable level backgrounds and villain design. Sonic can jump on the game's bad guys to destroy them (as long as he is rolled up in a ball), and every time he does, he frees a forest animal from its mechanical innards.
The game's plot, which I remember being explained in an issue of Disney Adventures, is that Sonic and a scientist, Dr. Robotnik, were best buddies, until a failed experiment made Sonic blue and fast, and Robotnik evil. The wicked Doctor then enslaves the game's animals into the aforementioned dastardly robots, and it's up to Sonic to set the little creatures free.
While the game's plot is only implied within, its music is explicitly awesome. The Sega Genesis' soundchip may not have been as powerful as the one of its arch-nemesis, the Super Nintendo, but it created some unique, bass-heavy, metallic tones, and Sonic the Hedgehog utilizes it for a fast-paced, funky 16-bit earbath. Earbath sounds gross. I screwed that description up. Let's just say, the soundtrack is bouncy in the best way, and catchy enough that I am humming along replaying it so many years later. It's a crime that Masato Nakamura doesn't have a few dozen more video game soundtracks to his name.
I still remember this particular image from the commercial more than anything else from the game...which is ironic, as I often didn't make it this far in 1991, and was never able to acquire this extra life.
Sonic the Hedgehog is exactly as I remember it. Very fun, very difficult, and a bit frustrating. The graphics, while more simple than future installments, are visually pleasing, and the music is excellent. I must admit, this game does provoke some negative feelings for me, simply because it reminds me of a time in life, namely early junior high, when I had the realization that I wanted agency, but had none. In more human terms, I was ready to watch R-rated movies and drive a car, but I wasn't old enough to do those things. That carried over a bit into video games, as I started to feel like they could be more forgiving, while still occupying a lot of the player's time. Perhaps due to the put-in-another-quarter influence of arcades, or maybe just because games had to be ridiculously hard so that players couldn't beat their ten short levels in 20 minutes, games from the 80's and early 90's were so frustratingly difficult, and often for reasons that felt cheap. Play for an hour, make it to the final boss, die, start all over. A lot of times, it felt like a wasted hour. With better technology, games no longer had to be that way, and the first Sonic game comes on the cusp of this, meaning it could be just a bit better, and just a bit longer, while also being just a bit less difficult. That task would be accomplished by future games in the series.
Or in this one, you can just press up, down, left, right, then hold "A" and press start at the main menu...but you didn't hear that from me.
