Rise of the Dragon

Released in 1993 by Dynamix, Inc. and ported to the Sega CD by Game Arts, Rise of the Dragon is a graphic adventure game set in a dark, futuristic, cyberpunk world

I recently played through the incredible Snatcher for the Sega CD. Once I finished and reviewed that great game, I didn't want to leave the realm of Sega CD cyberpunk graphic adventure. I kept hearing Rise of the Dragon mentioned in the same breath as Snatcher, so I decided to give it a try. Is Rise of the Dragon anywhere near Snatcher's league?

Hmm..."Blade Hunter" sounds an awful lot like a certain Ridley Scott cyberpunk movie I love

Nope. Rise of the Dragon has its moments, but contains several frustrating elements that sap the fun away. This 1993 game takes place in a 2053 Los Angeles that doesn't look much different from a slightly dystopian 1980's Los Angeles. The player takes control of William "Blade" Hunter, an ex-police officer, who now works as a private investigator. Blade is tasked by the mayor to investigate a deeply personal matter. Apparently, the mayor's hard-partying and rebellious daughter was experimenting with exotic substances, and died from a drug that mutated her into a horrid looking beast. Blade finds the Chinese Mafia was involved and must hit the streets looking for info...and also win back his angry girlfriend, Karen, who works at City Hall and can provide Blade with valuable info.

 

Turns out the fate of the world rests on you getting this lady to chill the hell out

On paper, this game should work. However, the execution is wanting. Rise of the Dragon is essentially a point-and-click adventure game. The player must pick up items for later use, solve puzzles, and navigate conversations with non-player characters to progress. An intuitive, well-designed interface is key in this type of game. It is immediately apparent that Rise of the Dragon's is neither intuitive, nor well-designed. The player must move a cursor around the screen, to navigate through an area, and to look for objects with which to interact. If the player grabs an item either from their inventory or that can be placed in inventory, but doesn't drag that item to their inventory, then accidentally leaves that area of the environment, the item leaves their inventory...sometimes permanently. And if that item is necessary to progress...the player can't progress. Yes, one wrong step, and Rise of the Dragon is hard-locked--there's NO WAY TO PROGRESS.

 

Yep, that about sums it up

Losing an item isn't the only way to suddenly render Rise of the Dragon unwinnable. Like most graphic adventure games from this era, conversations with non-player characters involve dialogue trees. Unlike most graphic adventure games from this era, telling an NPC the wrong thing can completely stop the player's ability to progress. The NPC will refuse to talk to you again, and there's literally no way to move on in the game. Rise of the Dragon does remind the player to frequently save, which can be done at any time, but the problem is, you don't alwas KNOW that you've made Rise of the Dragon unwinnable, and you might just save after you've done so...meaning your save file is basically a dead file. It's infuriating. Even with three save slots to back up your progress throughout, it's still tough to tell just where you went wrong...and naturally, this is one one of those games that gives absolutely no direction as to what you're supposed to be doing.

That's all I was looking for with this game too, Blade

As to the actual story, there's not really anything innovative or thematically deep here, just a drug lord intent on world domination. The only really futuristic element here is the mutagen drug. Most of the game's settings are dingy alleys and clubs that, as I've mentioned, just look like dingy 80's alleys and clubs. As for graphics, they're stylized and look pretty cool. The Sega CD version (this was originally a late 80's PC release) tints everything green, and while some players have reacted negatively to this, 90's sci-fi (and cyberpunk) did definitively climax with The Matrix in 1999, so I'm fine with it. As for sound, there's a lot of voice-acting, and it's overall not bad. I particularly enjoy the legendary Cam Clarke (Leonardo from TMNT, Kaneda from Akira, Liquid Snake in Metal Gear) as the snarky Blade. The music is hit and miss, a few solid tunes mixed in with some clunkers whose drum tracks sound like they're running into each other.

 

I guess this could technically be Neo's apartment

In a perfect world where certain random actions DIDN'T render Rise of the Dragon permanently unwinnable, I still don't think this would be a great game. Making progress is fun, but several of the puzzles aren't intuitive, and the game also features a timer that rushes experimentation. Yes, not only can you render the game unwinnable by making the wrong decision or losing an inventory item, but you can also run out of time! The joy from these types of games is generally in TAKING YOUR TIME, experimenting and trying to enjoy the world the game presents to the fullest. There are a few gnarly story branches in Rise of the Dragon the player can pursue and some big rewards for lateral thinking, but the time crunch, as well as the possibility of taking a dead end track you can't turn around from, discourages the player from ever discovering them!

 

Let me into this game, game!

Rise of the Dragon also attempts to throw a little variation at the player, by including several side-scrolling platformer segments into the game. Unfortunately, the controls for those segments are exceedingly clunky, and if the player hasn't done things absolutely as the game wanted early in, they're stuck using a lousy gun that makes these segments far more difficult (do things right, and you get a better one). There's also a first-person shooter moment here too that's not only a tiny blip in the overall gameplay, but easily missed if you don't take the longest possible path to the game's ending.

 

Side-scrolling blade maneuvers like a particularly unwieldy refrigerator

Overall, I do appreciate the late 80's/early 90's cyberpunk vibe here, even though there's little imagination in the worldbuilding or futuristic elements. Rise of the Dragon does feature scattered moments that are quite enjoyable, but again, the game's flaws suck most of the fun away. After rendering the game unwinnable several times early in, I nervously looked to a strategy guide to get to the end of the game, just so I wouldn't brick my progress again. That's no way to have to play a game. With just a little more thought toward player experience, Rise of the Dragon could have been a minor genre classic. Instead, it's a frustrating misfire whose positive moments aren't quite plentiful enough to lift Rise of the Dragon to hidden gem status. For me, Rise of the Dragon is just a minor curio to alleviate my Snatcher comedown.

Graphics: 6.5/10.0
Sound: 6.5/10.0
Gameplay: 4.9/10.0
Lasting Value: 4.5/10.0
Overall (Not an Average): 5.5/10.0

Snatcher

Released on November 30, 1994 for the Sega CD by Konami, Snatcher features graphic adventure gameplay set in a futuristic, cyberpunk world

I have more nostalgia for the Sega CD than for any other console, save maybe the NES,SNES, and Atari 2600. I'll never forget watching it boot up for the first time at my cousin's house, stunned by the high quality music, blown away by the voice-acting in the games. I felt like I was watching a high-performing CD-ROM computer game on the television. Later on, I finally acquired my own Sega CD, and immediately researched to find the best games. One game kept showing up near the top of the lists: 1994's Snatcher. There was one problem, though: a copy of Snatcher, which turns out to be quite rare, costs about as much as a down payment on a house. Thankfully, though, I was able to grab a playable copy through...certain means. Is Snatcher worth the hype?

No matter what you think about this game, you cannot deny the excellence of its fonts

Snatcher immediately immerses its player in glorious late-80's/early 90's cyberpunk atmosphere. The opening cutscene feels like Blade Runner by way of a William Gibson novel, as the player is dropped into the skyscrapers and night lights of the artificial island city of Neo Kobe, Japan. Most of the world's population was killed by disease 50 years before, and now that the survivors have rebuilt, they're under attack by an emerging threat called "Snatchers." Snatchers are essentially robot copies of existing people, who have been secretly kidnapped and murdered. No one knows what the Snatchers want, or where they came from, but the opening cutscene features Terminator-like imagery and design in regard to the titular villains, as well as a sense of neo-noir, as the game's heroes, the JUNKER's are introduced. JUNKER's are essentially old-fashioned detectives, tasked with hunting down and eradicating the Snatcher menace. The player takes on the role of the newest JUNKER agent, Gillian Seed, a man suffering from amnesia because this game was created by Hideo Kojima. Yes, THAT Hideo Kojima.

 

Just put Arnie's skin on this thing and give it a minigun

Kojima, the famous Metal Gear auteur, keeps Snatcher's story fairly simple to start. As Gillian, the player is tasked with investigating the Snatcher menace mystery, investigating crime scenes, interviewing suspects, gathering evidence, talking to informers, while also trying to regain his memory. Gillian also attempts to reconnect with his estranged wife (who also somehow has amnesia). The gameplay style here reveals the game's PC roots, as it was originally released there in 1988 ,with less bells and whistles. As Gillian, the player interacts with the world through a series of prompts, including LOOK, INVESTIGATE, TALK, and ASK. Essentially, the player uses these prompts to look around the environment, generally shown as a static, partially-animated screen, as they try to find something out of the ordinary. Conversations with informants, colleagues, and suspects follow dialogue trees, just like in a classic PC adventure game.

 

Not gonna lie...all that robot juice is making me thirsty

While Snatcher doesn't quite fall into "visual novel" territory, this isn't exactly challenging gameplay, either. Truthfully, you can just go through all of the LOOK/INVESTIGATE prompts in order, until you do the right things and progress. There's not a lot to it, but the text and dialogue is so involving and well written (and translated), this portion of the gameplay never gets tedious...and it's also not the only form of gameplay here.

You also get to shoot stuff. *SIGH* This game is so cool.

During certain portions of the story, Gillian is attacked by either Snatchers or their evil little drone minions, and Snatcher turns into a first-person shooter. These segments verge from prolonged 60-90 second shootouts, to what we'd now consider quicktime events. They keep the player on their toes, as a safe-looking crime scene can be invaded by a Snatcher at almost any moment. The player can even optionally use the famous Sega CD lightgun, the Justifier, for these segments, though I found it a bit unreliable, and preferred to just use the regular Sega control pad. With the control pad, these shootouts aren't overly difficult (just keep firing and aim everywhere!), until near the end of the game, when the Snatchers get both more plentiful and more mobile. While these moments only make up maybe 5-10% of the game, the constant threat of them happening adds a bit more excitement to the game.

 

You're terminated...

While I do think both modes of gameplay are fun, they're not quite Snatcher's main attraction. Snatcher's main draw is its neo-noir and specifically 80's/early 90's cyberpunk atmosphere. The towering buildings and spotlights, the 1940's/1950's office interiors of Blade Runner, the weird post-modern architecture of Total Recall, the post-apocalyptic civilization vibe of Akira, the "what even is human" vibe of William Gibson's Neuromancer, it's blended into something special here, and then combined with a sort of weird, goofy, self-referential, fourth-wall breaking sense of humor. 

Even with all this cool, futuristic imagery, the biggest billboard says SEGA!

The characters in Snatcher draw attention to the fact that you're playing a video game several times. Gillian makes a hilariously failed pass at every woman with which he comes into contact. Your goofy robot sidekick is called METAL GEAR! Yes, like Kojima's Metal Gear. As the humor popped up, I was a little scared it would derail the darker, violent (yes, Snatcher is violent), grittier tone of the game...but instead it only makes the game more charming.

Also, look how cute this little guy is! Who's a good robot? Who's a good robot? Metal Gear is! Yes, he is!

I've already touched upon the art design, but Snatcher's graphics are also great, a blend of top notch 16-bit work and early 90's PC graphics. They go a long way toward building the game's atmosphere, though the sound design also does some heavy lifting. Around 1/3 of the game's plentiful conversations are voice-acted, and the work, while not quite top tier, gets the job done; it won't win any awards (and it didn't), but I enjoyed it. However, the voice work, in tandem with Masahiro Ikariko's cool, jazzy soundtrack, and the game's immersive sound effects, helps Snatcher quite effectively transport the player into its world. With all that said, there is one element that keeps Snatcher away from "masterpiece" status, and it's a bit of a Kojima trademark.

 

Uh...not your nose...

Snatcher's plot, though it contains twists and turns, doesn't feel contrived for most of its run, save the amnesia angle. While it may not blow genre conventions out of the water, the story is coherent and fun...up until the final 30 minutes of this ten hour experience. Kojima games are known for overlong cutscenes, and Snatcher avoids these too...up until the final 30 minutes. I am not necessarily saying the end of this game sucks. I am saying that after a satisfying 9.5 hours of gameplay, featuring a fairly uncontrived story, which employs a cool, neo-noir, cyberpunk tone, the final 30 minutes of Snatcher is a convoluted, melodramatic cutscene. The tone shifts, the music gets sappy. Again, this last 30 minutes doesn't ruin the game. It can't. Snatcher is a cyberpunk classic...but without the final tone-shift, it could have been a masterpiece. 

 

Ironically, after its most noirish image, Snatcher turns into a Kojima soap opera

However, as I said, Snatcher is still a classic, ahead of its time, and timelessly out of time. The JUNKER station, Gillian's home base, is so wonderfully realized, a place where the player can bond with engineer, Harry, and office secretary, Mika, pick the JUNKER chief's brain, putz around in Gillian's office, and practice shooting at the firing range. Metal Gear also has a cell phone, and Gillian can makes calls to numbers he finds throughout the game, almost anytime the player wants. Gillian can also take the station turbocycle to almost any location in the game, giving the illusion of a free and open Neo Kobe City, making the game feel even more immersive. There's even a station computer, which not only includes info on suspects, but historical and cultural entries that more fully flesh out Snatcher's world. You can even go home to Gillian's apartment whenever you want, which someone gives the game even more of a cool, weird, Blade Runner/Philip K. Dick vibe. Snatcher is not quite perfect, but it deserves to be played by fans of any of the genres I've mentioned--and I can easily see myself playing through it again. Don't let the ridiculous price point be a barrier keeping you away from Snatcher...just like in any great game...there are alternative ways to play...

Uh...Google it

Graphics: 9.0/10.0
Sound: 9.0/10.0
Gameplay: 9.2/10.0
Lasting Value: 8.0/10.0
Overall (Not an Average): 9.2/10.0

Batman Returns 16-Bit Showdown

Almost every major blockbuster in the early 90's received a video game adaptation. Even Domino's and Seven Up's mascots received their own video games. If the Noid got his own game, there's no way the hype machine behind Batman Returns was going to let that 1992 smash hit pass through without an adaptation...or seven. Batman Returns is a seminal film for me--at eleven years old, I fell into the film's prime demographic, and I love it to this day. With a protagonist like Batman, major villains like Penguin and Catwoman, and a clearly designed group of underlings in the red triangle circus gang, a 16-bit video game version of Batman Returns essentially designs itself. Developers just needed to put Batman on Gotham's icy streets and let him punch and kick his way through an army of circus freaks, while periodically battling with the two major foes. Toss in some Christmas trees and giant presents in the background for good measure and viola: Batman Returns game. That's just what the three 16-bit adaptations of Batman Returns do...to varying degrees of success.


Batman Returns, Sega Genesis, December 29, 1992

Sega's Malibu-developed Batman Returns game was first to market. The game is a side-scrolling action-platformer, like many movie game adaptations from the era. The speed at which the game came to market betrays Sega's "that's good enough, let's hurry up and get this thing on the shelves" approach, taken with several of their adaptations at the time. This game was clearly not play-tested enough to make sure it was actually fun, though, and...it's not very fun. The absolute first moment of the Sega Genesis Batman Returns asks the player to take a blind jump from the top of the building. You can actually die during this moment, and it's nowhere close to the only blind jump Batman Returns for the Sega Genesis makes the player take. The controls aren't great, either. You've got one button for special items, one for jumping, and one for punching/kicking. You'll also have to use the grappling hook at times (using the jump button and directional pad), but unfortunately, the grappling hook is only even fairly reliable when you're standing still, let alone trying to swing around. You've also got to solve environmental puzzles at times, often on the fly, with death often nigh. With all that in mind, this game is alarmingly difficult. However, it does not earn that difficulty. Beloved legendarily difficult games are generally beloved because the control systems for those games are tight and reliable. You aren't dying because of flaws in those games, only because of your own lack of skill. Batman Returns for Sega Genesis is not that type of game--it is balls out hard because it is not very good. As for production values, the menu screens and pause screen (where you select what special, limited ammo weapon you want to use, i.e. batarang, etc.) look fine. The actual, in-game graphics are kind of simplistic, but solid. The graphics are certainly a step above 8-bit, but nothing great. Same for the music--you've got that trademark, bass-reliant Genesis sound, but nothing much memorable. I will say, though, that the game does capture a bit of the film's dark, inkwell atmosphere...it just doesn't do very many fun or satisfying things with it. Like most Genesis games, there's no save system (or password system). You can continue when you get a game over, but you have to start all the way at the beginning of that particular stage. Each stage has multiple levels, so if you get a game over during the final (generally unfair) boss on the final level of the stage, get ready to play through the entire stage again...not very fun. A disappointment.

Graphics: 6.0/10
Sound: 6.0/10
Gameplay: 4.5/10
Lasting Value 4.0/10
Overall (Not an Average): 4.8/10.0




Batman Returns, Super Nintendo, April 1993

Storied developing house, Konami, took the reins for the Super Nintendo adaptation of Batman Returns. Konami decided to take their adaptation down the 2D beat 'em up route, ala Streets of Rage and Final Fight. This decision, along with Konami's skill as a developer, and perhaps the extra four months Konami spent on this versus Malibu's Genesis version, results in a pretty special game. In opposition to the Genesis adaptation, the controls here are tight and reliable. Tap a button to punch, tap it rapidly to combo and kick. There's a button to jump. Hit jump again to use the grappling hook--reliably. There's a button to throw the batarang, which does minimal damage, but very briefly stuns foes. There's devastating cowl twist move done by holding two buttons that takes a little health off Batman's meter if it connects. There's even the classic beat 'em up "kill everyone on screen" special item. In some games, that item, which you only get so many of, is utilized by just pushing one button, resulting in the player often accidentally unleashing it. Konami solves that problem by having the player hold down the shoulder buttons (which also cause Batman to block), then push another button--a simple solution that helps the player avoid accidentally using the attack. Of course, with side-scrolling 2D beat 'em ups, the player can move up and down in the field of play, as well as left and right. There are no control issues there. However, this game doesn't just stick to the basics. There are bunch of cool little touches. Of course, if you get close to an enemy, you'll grab them and can slam them into the ground or other enemies, but here, if two enemies approach you from opposite sides at the same moment, you can grab them simultaneously and bash their heads together. If you grab an enemy and are standing near a window, you can slam them into it and shatter it--same goes for park benches or other breakable surfaces. Each level has a boss from the film at the end, including that organ-grinder with a monkey and a machine gun. There's even an awesome Mode 7 (faux 3D, scaling sprite) Batmobile stage that looks and plays great. The graphics as a whole here are beautiful, highly detailed, with large, well-animated sprites, and great backgrounds, and it all runs smoothly with no slowdown. The music is mainly 16-bit interpretations of the score from the film, and it sounds great. The Sega Genesis version doesn't have anything like that. This Super Nintendo adaptation simply crushes the Genesis one in both production value and gameplay. That's not to say it's perfect, though. Sometimes the action does grow a little stale. You'll be in the same area wanting to move on, and enemies will just keep flooding in. The length is also at that awkward 45-60 minute mark, where there are no passwords or saves available, and you've simply got to dedicate that big of a chunk, minimum, to get through. You can toggle the difficulty level and number of lives available from the option screen, and each difficulty level feels well-balanced and appropriate. The more I played, the better I got--Catwoman kicked my butt the first few encounters, but after a number of showdowns, I was wiping the floor with her. Overall, Batman Returns for the Super Nintendo isn't just a good adaptation of the film, but one of the better film adaptations of the 16-bit era.

Graphics: 8.5/10
Sound: 8.0/10
Gameplay: 8.0/10
Lasting Value: 7.8/10
Overall (Not an Average): 8.0/10.0




Batman Returns, Sega CD, May 1993

The 1993 Sega CD port of the Genesis' Batman Returns game proved to be the film's final 16-bit adaptation. Sega CD ports of Genesis games were often derided for simply being the same game with a slapped on Redbook soundtrack. Malibu's Batman Returns port received some attention for essentially being that, while adding an entirely new element: sprite-scaling, faux 3D driving. The levels and controls are exactly the same as the Genesis game, but now there are driving levels between each stage. These play and look similarly to the Super Nintendo driving stage, except the controls aren't as good. You've got to hold down the B-button, while pushing the A button to fire discs out, and press C to fire missiles, while using the directional pad for horizontal direction/to ram into foes. The driving stages are timed, and failing to destroy all enemies before the timer runs out results in death, so you've got to constantly hold down the accelerator while firing...meaning you've got to put your hands into some arthritis-inviting positions. I did not enjoy this aspect of the game. It's remarkable that Konami nailed the single driving segment in their game, which could have just been a throwaway stage, but Malibu made driving half of their game, and it doesn't quite work. The driving stages here don't even look as good as the one in the SNES game. The Sega CD Batman Returns' updated soundtrack, while of a much higher sample quality than the other two 16-bit adaptations, only consists of a few pieces recycled over and over again throughout the game, which are seldom interesting. The game's graphics as a whole, though, do look a little bit sharper than they did on the Genesis, but unfortunately, the gameplay is exactly the same--not fun. But hey, there are some new animated cutscenes that look...adequate. Overall, this Sega CD version of Batman Returns is only marginally better than the Genesis one. The driving stages are tedious, and when added to the already tedious action-platforming, just make the game even more tedious. Beating this game in one sitting--which is the only way to beat it since you can't save or use passwords--will take so long, you'll need the patience of a saint, and the masochist nature of a Cleveland Browns fan. This should have been so much better.

Graphics: 6.2/10
Sound: 6.0/10
Gameplay: 4.8/10
Lasting Value: 4.2/10
Overall (Not an Average): 5.2/10.0



I did one of these showdowns for Jurassic Park a while ago and have to admit, I had a bit more fun doing that one because 2/3 of the games weren't awful. Batman Returns for the Super Nintendo is the only 16-bit adaptation of that film that's worth playing. The other two have attractive boxes and that's about it. An objective ranking here is easy, with far more distance between one and two than there is two and three.

Merry Christmas, and goodwill toward men...and women.

1. Batman Returns (Super Nintendo, 1993)
2. Batman Returns (Sega CD, 1993)
3. Batman Returns (Sega Genesis, 1992)

Road Avenger

Road Avenger, Sega CD, Data East Corporation, 1993

One day I was digging through some of my unplayed Sega CD games and noticed Road Avenger. I realized I'd never heard of the game, but I loved its title, so into the Sega CD it went.
Mind blown.

How could I not like a game made by "WOLF TEAM?"

Road Avenger is a port of a 1985 Japanese arcade game, Road Blaster. The gist of the game is that you're out to avenge the death of your wife at the hands of an evil biker gang. You've souped up your car to an alarming level, and now you're hitting the mean, animated streets to make the wicked gang pay.

Hey, didn't you read the last paragraph? I JUST souped up this thing! You're gonna get it.

The gameplay is simple--levels are awesomely pre-animated by Toei, the same studio that has animated countless great anime, as well as the 1986 Transformers film. You're basically put inside an incredible action film, featuring the height of 80's animation, to run amok. These pre-animated, full motion video sequences require you to tap either left, right, brake, or turbo when commanded.

I told you you were gonna get it. Also, duh, of course I'm gonna brake.

While this may sound simple, as you drive through Road Avenger's thrilling nine stages, your time window for following commands becomes shorter and shorter. The last few levels require razor sharp  reflexes and memory, particularly the insanely chaotic final stage.

The mortician is gonna wish you wore deodorant! Does deodorant work on a corpse? Do corpses sweat? Road Avenger, you've opened up Pandora's Box!

The nine levels, composed of 15,000 hand-painted cels, and over 30-minutes of animation, feature just about any car chase environment you could want, from a cliff-hugging highway, to an elevated freeway, to a deep-forest logging road, and more. You also get to do just about every awesome car stunt possible, from the ramming off the road basics, to shaking off unwanted rooftop passengers, to jumping over an exploding helicopter. Some of the scenarios the developers have dreamed up are so delightfully over-the-top and outlandish, you'll want to experience them again and again.

Tuesday.

Yes, Road Avenger is essentially one big quicktime event game. However, your actions are so naturally incorporated into in-game events that Road Avenger seldom just feels like it's on rails.  In fact, on the hardest difficulty, you're not even given the commands, and have to figure out which buttons to press given the situation. Of course, inputting the wrong command results in instantly crashing, but isn't that the way it is with actual, high-speed driving?

You know, you drive through a field and get firebombed by attack helicopters, just like real life!

As far as production values go, the animation is incredible. Though there is some grain, its impact to gameplay or to even enjoying the graphics in general is negligible. Sound effects are all pretty awesome, though the squealing brake can be a bit grating. The music is pretty far back in the mix, but it still brings energy to the experience. Also, the opening cinema, which sets up the game's story, features a sweet power-metal ballad.

These kids love it. Get off the damn sidewalk, kids!

Like most games from this period, the player is only given several tries and continues. After that, it's game over, and you've got to start from the beginning. At only nine levels, a straight play-through only takes about half-an-hour, and once you're done, you're done--and it's an identical experience again and again after that...even if it's an awesome one. Also, given how difficult that final level is, having to play all the way through the game to get to it again and again after constant game overs can get a bit old. It doesn't help that, unlike Road Avenger's previous levels, the last doesn't have any checkpoints.

How am I supposed to continue if I can't see, ass?!

Still, though, even with its flaws and short running time, Road Avenger is a singular experience. There's really nothing quite like it on the market today, and there wasn't much like it in the 80's or 90's, either. If you want to pull out a Sega CD game to quickly wow a guest, you can't do much better than Road Avenger.

Vroom, vroom.

Graphics: 8.5/10.0
Sound: 7.0/10.0
Gameplay: 8.0/10.0
Lasting Value: 6.0/10.0
Overall (Not an Average): 8.0/10.0

Demolition Man

Demolition Man, Sega CD, Acclaim Entertainment, 1995

I don't know why, of all the Sega CD games, I decided to play through 1995's Demolition Man. There are dozens upon dozens of more prominent games for the system. I've got all of them. They're all right over there in the corner. I'm not playing them right now, though. I'm playing Demolition Man, a licensed game for a 1993 action film I've never even seen (though I soon plan on remedying that)...and I have no regrets.

More like "Most Awesomest!"

Demolition Man is a 2D action sidescroller. As for buttons:"A" throws a grenade. You've only got a limited amount of grenades, but you can pick up more, and they're everywhere. "B" fires your weapon. You start with a pistol, but can pick up other guns, like a powerful shotgun and magnum. After a few shots with those, you run out of ammo, and go back to your handgun, which has unlimited ammo. You can even just hold down "B" to fire continuously. You can aim with the controller pad, and if you stop running, and hold down "B," you can aim while at a stop. "C" is the jump button. You can jump pretty far, but you can't really turn around in mid-air. The "Start" button pauses the game. That's it!

The 90's had so many good songs about jumping. "Jump Around" was good. Wait, that was the 80's. Oh, yeah, what about "Kriss Kross Makes You Wanna Jump?" I think that was the name of it. Wasn't that the 90's? Yeah?

Demolition Man apparently loosely follows the plot of the film of the same name. You're Sergeant John Spartan, a reckless police officer who was cryogenically frozen in 1996. Now it's 2032, and you've been thawed out to fight your old nemesis, the criminally insane Simon Phoenix, who had also been cryogenically frozen but's come back. And that's...pretty much it. You chase Phoenix around the futuristic dystopian mega-city, San Angeles, fighting him periodically between blasting away thousands of his henchman.

You just wait til I get down there!

The game includes a dozen or so side-scrolling stages, and two overhead view, Smash TV-esque stages. These levels are all fairly straightforward. They often include multiple floors, though there is generally only one path through the stage. The fun comes from the simple, brainless action of the gameplay. The controls are fairly tight, you can generally do whatever you're attempting to do (except correct an errant jump), many parts of the stages, like TV screens, streetlights, and windows, can be destroyed, and the action is frenetic and endless.

Shoot them all! Shoot everything!

From a production level, the graphics are highly-detailed, colorful, excellent pixel-art. This Sega CD version also includes gratuitously grainy movie clips, that don't look so excellent.

Through no fault of Stallone's sick hat.

However, the Sega CD also includes a supercharged electronic rock soundtrack that absolutely slams. It's awesome, a great backing to blow away endless enemies. Outside of the movie clips, there's a little bit of film dialogue spliced throughout the game to make it a little more immersive. These sound okay, but not as good as the game's awesomely over-the-top sound effects, featuring big booming guns, shattering glass, etc. Also, for some reason in the sidescrolling stages, there's a split second after bullets hit your enemies where it looks like you've electrocuted them....which...cool!

Eat lead, slacker! Er, sorry, I don't know any Demolition Man quotes.

Most stages do each have a little something to set them apart from a gameplay standpoint. For example, one level's got a mechanical car parker that's constantly looking to smash you, a monorail level features a constantly moving train with objects that have to be dodged, and a trip to an underground wasteland features plenty of cool, zip-lining action.

You just wait til I get down there! Dammit, I already used that one!

Like most sidescrolling actioneers of its era, Demolition Man is difficult, giving you just a handful of lives and continues, which are easily expended. Thankfully, the game also includes a level-select cheat (A, C, Up, Right, Left at the main menu), which allows you to go back to wherever you were when you got a game over. Thankfully, each stage includes frequent checkpoints, so any time you die, you don't have to start the level over at the beginning...at least until you get a game over. Demolition Man also includes three selectable levels of difficulty, though you can't play through every stage if you select the easiest. Of course, once you've played through the game a couple of times using the level select method, you'll probably have the muscle memory to at least get through the medium difficulty without a game over...which will take about an hour.

"Let's hang out!" Was that a line from the movie? No?

Is Demolition Man straightforward and simplistic? Yes. Did I have a meatheadedly good time blasting through it? Yes! It may be an artifact of its era, frozen in time, but it doesn't deserve to be locked up forever! It's shockingly fun!

Sorry...

Graphics: 8.0/10.0
Sound: 8.5/10.0
Gameplay: 7.5/10.0
Lasting Value: 5.0/10.0
Overall (Not an Average): 7.5/10.0

Ecco the Dolphin (Sega CD)

Ecco the Dolphin, Sega CD, Novotrade International, 1993

This review comes from a deep (pun intended) and personal place. I've written in past reviews about my next-door neighbor Sega cousins, who I, as a Nintendo die-hard, lived through vicariously. Sonic the Hedgehog, Streets of Rage, even back to Shinobi on the Sega Master system, their house offered something different (and also, they could watch Rambo, and Baywatch, and Beavis and Butthead). One 1993 summer afternoon, as I let myself in through their backdoor, I noticed something had happened to their Sega Genesis. It had...grown.

Into a dolphin?

Yes, now it was connected to some kind of strange-looking CD player, with a couple of blue, rectangular game cases sitting next to it. It turns out this was a SEGA CD, some new Sega Genesis add-on that apparently gave it mystical powers. I popped in the first CD game (after figuring out I had to take out whatever cartridge was in the Genesis). This game took place in a sewer, and some guy kept calling me a pencil neck. It wasn't the most fun game, but holy cow!, it had movies in it, and people talking. Like actual voices, in a video game! How was this magic possible?! I took out Sewer Shark (maybe I'll review that one later), and put in the next game...and my entire world changed.

Into a dolphin?

This music. This music was coming out of my cousins' TV, and it wasn't video game music. No bloops and bleeps. No low-quality sound bytes. This was music. Beautiful, evocative, ethereal music,  music that transported me under the sea, under the dopamine sea, and into the world of Ecco the Dolphin.
I don't know how many times those cousins kicked me off of their Sega CD that summer. They never even bought another game for it, and eventually sold it. They were all technical types and just didn't get it. They didn't get the feelings. Every time I went to their house during that first summer of President William Jefferson Clinton, I played as much Ecco as they could stand. I tried to stash a sheet of level passwords in their den, but it always seemed to go missing. Due to the missing password sheets, I never got past Ecco's fourth or fifth level. When they sold the Sega CD, I think I cried. By then, though, the early-90's had given way to the mid. Puberty happened, I got a Nintendo 64, and what Sega CD?

Might as well have dumped it in the ocean. Sorry, dolphins.

But then, as adulthood took deeper and deeper hold--a wife, a kid, a desk job--a powerful thing called nostalgia glowed on the horizon. The dream of the 90's was alive again in my calloused, 2010's heart, and the only solution was to finally buy my own Sega Genesis and Sega CD, and to finally get my hands on my own copy of Ecco the Dolphin. This time, the password sheet was going to stay put.
Diving back into the game, Ecco the Dolphin is just as I remember it. With the 2D indie-gaming re-revolution currently taking place, Ecco's bright and detailed graphics look great. The sight of Ecco flapping his fluke and zooming past the cobalt outlines of submerged cliff walls as they jut tan and rocky from the surface overhead brings a tear to my eye. The diversity of environments, from the bright corals in calm blue bays, to the subtle oranges in the evening sky over silvery, ice-laden arctic seas, to the sun setting over the marble statues of Atlantis, to the Giger-esque blacks and greens of its latter levels, Ecco the Dolphin is a 16-bit sight. It's also loaded with undersea fauna, from simple fish, to dolphin pods, to turtles, whales, and octopi. If you have any sort of thing for the ocean, this is your game. No other series has delved into it like this.

Not even Call of Duty

While Ecco looks great, even the best 2D games of the 90's require a bit of imagination from the player. In my opinion, nothing stimulates the mind like music. Spencer Nilsen created the New Age, oceanic soundtrack that captured my imagination so many years ago. It is still just as entrancing now, with high-quality keyboard samples plunging the players ears into aural bliss. Perhaps the only flaw in the soundtrack, which I can only see today because I both own the game, and now have the skills needed to complete it, is that about halfway through, the score starts to repeat itself a bit, with later levels featuring some of the same music as the earlier ones. Still, it's great, 50-minutes of original music, and it always fits. The soundtrack becomes so inextricably linked to the game, that when my eight-year-old son saw Ecco running on a regular Sega Genesis cartridge, with its quite-different-from-the-Sega-CD, bloopy-bleepy soundtrack, he said, "Hey, that's not Ecco music!"

However, this is the most Ecco image ever, featuring Ecco talking to an Orca in an undersea cavern, with an air pocket overhead, and a magical ancient crystal glyph behind.

As a younger person, the sound and graphics immersed my imagination so deeply, the gameplay was almost secondary. Now that I've experienced 25 years of increasingly more technologically advanced games, the gameplay really has to stand out. It's clear that Ecco's chief designer, Ed Annunziata, wanted to do something a bit different with his game. For one, Ecco's ocean environment means that he can swim in any 2D direction. Anunnziata uses this feature to go against the "kill all the bad guys and progress" grain of the time. While Ecco the dolphin can indeed kill bad guys, like jellyfish and sharks, the player will mainly find themselves using him to solve environmental puzzles. Path ahead blocked by rocks? Saw a weird wreath of spikes a while back? Use your sonar to push the spikes through the rocks to create a path. Need to swim down against strong currents? Find a large rock, and push it down in front of you to gain egress. Yes, there are times Ecco does have to fight to proceed, generally against bosses, but these times are few and far between. Having open environments, instead of straight ahead paths, enhances this gameplay.

Actually, you can't get more Ecco than sliding across the ice like Ecco's belly is skates.

The game uses the Genesis controller's joypad and three-button setup to allow Ecco to speed up, quick dash, and fire off sonar, respectively. Ecco can speed along just like his blue hedgehog Sega co-mascot, and the player will likely spend several minutes just making Ecco jump through the surface and spin in the air as high as they can. If the player holds down the sonar button, the sound wave bounces off the nearest wall and comes back, and true to the real-life dolphin ability of echolocation, shows the player a map of the nearby surrounding area. Ecco will need to utilize all of these abilities to save his missing pod, progressing through the game's 30+ levels, through the tropics, the arctic, shipwrecks, ancient underwater ruins, prehistoric seas, and outer space. Yes, this game's story is insane, as Ecco not only time travels, but tangles with aliens on his quest.

Ugh, another Pteranodon picked me up. I hate it when that happens.

Much has been made of this game's difficulty. I remember being stymied by the game's slightly esoteric nature as a middle-schooler, but playing through as an adult, I felt much smarter and more able. Woohoo, life goals! Anyway, in a brazen display of cockiness, I said, "This isn't so hard. I don't see what the big deal is." Then I reached the game's penultimate stage, "Welcome to the Machine." If there's a game where Pink Floyd references don't seem out of place, it is Ecco the Dolphin. I am pretty good at video games, particularly non-fighting, 2D ones, but Ecco's last few stages, which abandon the game's previous formula for constantly scrolling action, had me tossing the conroller. "Welcome to the Machine," is a constantly twisting labyrinth, filled with aliens and death, with the screen not only constantly scrolling, but constantly changing scrolling directions, as well. Get stuck behind a jutting pipe when the scrolling changes directions, and you're extra soggy toast.

The only video game level expressly designed by Satan

Ecco the Dolphin also includes an important component of mammal life, breathing air, to the difficulty equation. Yes, Ecco can drown and has a constantly-depleting oxygen meter right beneath his life meter. Forget to head to the surface, or an air pocket at the top of an underground cave, and poor Ecco will die. The Sega CD does mitigate the difficulty a little, by including save glyphs in the game's longer levels. The Sega CD version also has more levels than its Sega Genesis cousin, and even a fully animated intro, and some FMV dolphin documentaries hidden in a middle stage. It is truly the definitive console version of the game. However, it does not completely eliminate some of the Genesis version's problems.
While the esoteric element of many levels can be a bit frustrating, that frustration is augmented by some silly game control and enemy interaction issues. For instance, at select moments, Ecco will have to move a sinking object horizontally. The game doesn't really have an input for this, and the player will nearly have to glitch the object where they need it to be. Also, though Ecco has five bars on his hit meter, if he gets jammed against a wall for a second by an enemy, particularly one in the latter levels where there are no save points, he is dead in less than a second. This is absolutely maddening. Oh yeah, and the over-the-top difficult final boss battle? Lose (which you can technically do in under a second), and you get to start over at the beginning of "Welcome to the Machine." So depressing.

It's why whale just hangs out in his ice cave all day now

Flaws and all, though, I'll take it. There's yet to be a video game quite like Ecco the Dolphin on the market...outside of its direct Genesis/Sega CD sequel and a Sega Dreamcast reboot. Ecco the Dolphin is a reminder of the incredible quirkiness of the early 90's, something the decade didn't quite payoff (and I say this as an unabashed 90's lover). This was a time a headlining game could feature a seafaring, spacetripping dolphin as its protagonist, and no one would bat an eye. It is a time encapsulated for me, in one game. May it be remembered forever, or until we nuke or supervirus ourselves to death, at which point, ideally, cockroaches will gain video game-playing abilities to keep the artform alive. Thanks, Ecco.

Graphics: 8.8/10.0
Sound: 9.5/10.0
Gameplay: 7.5/10.0
Lasting Value: 7.5/10.0
Overall (Not an Average): 7.8/10.0