Manual Stimulation: Gunpey (WonderSwan)

Considering how much I usually love portable puzzle games, I am disappointingly inexperienced with and uneducated about Gunpey.

On the one hand, I can understand it. Gunpey isn't the most interesting looking puzzler around--despite being one that's played with the WonderSwan turned sideways, in so-called "portrait mode."

On the other hand, I can't understand it, as the game was made by the esteemed Gunpei Yokoi.





Not that he made it himself, of course. He made it with a number of former Nintendo colleagues who helped him start a company called Koto.

At any rate, their maiden release hit Japanese store shelves alongside the original WonderSwan model on March 4, 1999.





Unfortunately, Gunpey's status as an early WonderSwan release is reflected in its rather ho-hum instruction manual, scans of which can be seen throughout this post.

This manual also reflects what I said earlier about Gunpey being far from an eye-popping puzzle game.

How so? Well, most of the acreage here is covered in text. The rest is covered in black-and-white screenshots. A pop of color can be seen now and then, but that's about it.





Which is strange, as Gunpey stars a small handful of mascot-y characters that could've livened things up a little--or a lot.

Instead, the designers who worked on the Gunpey manual ignored them almost completely.

Oh, well. At least a number of screenshots included here showcase them. (Click on and zoom in on the scans immediately above and below to see what I mean.)





What else is there to say about the Gunpey instruction booklet? Not much, if you ask me.

A bit more can be said about Gunpey the game, though. For example, although it began life on the WonderSwan, it eventually made its way to the WonderSwan Color, the original PlayStation, the PlayStation Portable, and the Nintendo DS as well.

Also, a few months after the original iteration released, a version featuring San-X's Tarepanda character released for the WonderSwan, too.





Finally, some of you might like to hear how Gunpey is played. The gist: you move line fragments vertically along a grid in order to create a single horizontal line that stretches from the left edge of the WonderSwan screen to its right edge.

Like I said earlier, hardly the most thrilling of premises for a puzzle game.

Still, my limited time with it has been enjoyable enough, so if you have a WonderSwan and you're itching to play a puzzler on it, you could do worse than pick up a copy of Gunpey.

See also: 'Manual Stimulation' posts about other WonderSwan games, including Crazy Climber, Lode Runner, and Engacho!

Manual Stimulation: Crazy Climber (WonderSwan)

I've long ignored Crazy Climber for WonderSwan because it looked just a little too antiquated for my liking.

Granted, the original arcade version of the game came out all the way back in 1980, so this portable port from 1999 was bound to have an old-fashioned air to it, too.



If this is your first foray into the world of Crazy Climber, you're probably wondering: wasn't it updated or modernized at all between 1980 and 1999?

You'd think so, but as far as I can tell, the answer to that question amounts to "not really."



Maker and publisher Nichibutsu improved the looks of most of its console ports and sequels, but even Crazy Climber 2000 (from--you guessed it--the year 2000, and released for the original PlayStation) features the same "scale a skyscraper using two joysticks" (or directional pads) gameplay as the quarter-muncher that birthed the series 38 years ago.

So what prompted me to do an about-face and pick up a copy of this nichiest of niche titles? One catalyst was that I found out it's played holding the WonderSwan system vertically. (I've always been a sucker for that.) Another was its cartoonish and colorful box art.



Speaking of Crazy Climber's lovely cover illustration, I've got admit I kind of assumed it meant the game's instruction manual would be stuffed with similarly eye-popping imagery.

Boy, was I wrong. In fact, except for the manual's last spread, it's nearly devoid of art. The only exception is the awkwardly drawn hands found in the lower-left corner of page seven.



Don't take that to mean I'm disappointed with my purchase. I'm still glad I own this version of Crazy Climber. Hell, I'm still glad I own this booklet. Its cover and second-to-last page alone make it worth every penny.

If you're wondering what the illustrations on the second-to-last page are supposed to represent, by the way, that would be the game's "characters." I put it in quotes because some of the depicted objects obviously don't fit the typical definition of the word.



Anyway, you encounter all of these so-called characters as you (attempt to) make your way to the top of each of Crazy Climber's mammoth buildings.

Most aim to do you harm. The lone exception: the "lucky balloon." It kindly hauls you up a handful of floors without asking for anything in return.



One last comment before I declare this post complete: click on any of the scans you see here to take a closer look at them.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Engacho! and Lode Runner for WonderSwan

Manual Stimulation: Lode Runner for WonderSwan

Of course a company made a Lode Runner game for the Bandai WonderSwan.

Why do I say that? Because almost every computer and console under the sun has welcomed some version of this classic puzzler-platformer during its lifetime.



Following the original Lode Runner's 1983 release for the Apple II, the Commodore 64, and a few other machines, it also found its way onto the Famicom, the PC Engine, the Super Famicom, the PlayStation, and even the GameBoy.

Given that, this 2000 offering from Banpresto (though Aisystem Tokyo developed it) isn't too surprising.



But is it any good? And even more importantly, especially given the focus of this post, is its instruction manual any good?

I've barely spent any time with Lode Runner for WonderSwan to date, so I can't say too much about its gameplay other than it's definitely Lode Runner. (This review, from someone who's clearly played a lot more of the game than I have, suggests it offers up at least a few unique components in this area.)



That's a very good thing as far as I'm concerned, by the way. I've had a blast playing different versions of this game ever since I first tackled Battle Lode Runner for the PC Engine way back when, so I'm always up for more.

As for the Lode Runner for WonderSwan manual, it's right in line with the title's gameplay and graphics. Which is to say it gets the job done but isn't exactly spectacular.



Its opening handful of pages probably have you thinking otherwise thanks to the colorful illustrations splashed across them.



The Lode Runner for WonderSwan manual is decidedly less vibrant after that, unfortunately. Its remaining pages sport some nice borders, headers, and screenshots, but no more drawings.



At least they provide some helpful information--assuming you know Japanese, of course. The spread above explains Lode Runner for WonderSwan's trio of gameplay modes (story, select, and edit, basically).



The next couple of pages explain how you can upload your level creations and download those made by others, I believe--but don't quote me on that. (If any of you have a better understanding of this text, please let me know in the comments section below.)



Lode Runner for WonderSwan's instruction booklet wraps up with a page full of tips for in-need players. Once again, though, I can't share the details. Sorry about that.

At any rate, what do you think of this particular manual? Is it a new favorite, or is it so boring you've already forgotten you ever laid eyes on it?

See also: previous posts about WonderSwan game manuals

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Tane wo Maku Tori

This Bandai-published WonderSwan game was one of the first I picked up--along with Engacho!--when I began collecting for this GameBoy competitor back in 2012.

Not that I was able to play it at that time. I didn't buy a WonderSwan system, a translucent black Color model, until three years later. (Here is the post I published about that momentous event, in case you're curious. And if you'd like to learn more about the WonderSwan Color hardware, check out this "Welcome to WonderSwan World" write-up.)

So what do I think of Tane wo Maku Tori now that I've spent some time with it? I like it--quite a lot, actually.

As for why that is, here are the main reasons:

* Tane wo Maku Tori is a puzzle game, a genre which the WonderSwan handles better than almost any other.
* To play it, you hold your WonderSwan system of choice sideways, in portrait or "TATE" mode. (Any title that allows this earns bonus points from me.)
* This 1999 release features an appealingly high-contrast aesthetic.
* It also offers up an eclectic soundtrack that veers from morosely moody to buoyantly blippy.

Tane wo Maku Tori's gameplay is noteworthy, too, although not always in the most positive way, if I'm allowed to be honest.

On the surface, at least, the puzzling action presented here is refreshingly unique. Your goal: to guide water droplets from the top of the WonderSwan's screen to a seed or seeds that are waiting at the bottom.

You do this to help the game's protagonist, the crow seen in the first screenshot above, fill his hometown with flowers before his migratory friend returns from the south. (That description was provided by shinjuforest.blogspot.com, by the way.)

As for how you guide the above-mentioned droplets from one end of the screen to the other, that's not so easily explained. The gist, though, is each water drop can take one of four paths down to the seeds scattered on the ground, with the paths in question represented by bamboo stalks, vines, construction girders and more. To complicate matters, these "vessels" are joined at various points.

Those connectors--tree branches, additional beams and the like--are all you control while playing Tane wo Maku Tori. Using the WonderSwan's left-most set of face buttons, you press up or down to move the "connecting bits" in that same direction, while pressing left or right changes which section of connectors are under your control.

So, you move the branches and beams and whatnot up and down to enable the water drops to land one of the seeds below.

Early on, that's all you have to worry about while playing Tane wo Maku Tori. After a few levels, however, enemies--in the form of water-loving bugs and slugs and other creepy-crawlies--throw a wrench into the works by joining the fray.

That's where things get a little messy, or at least that's where they tend to get messy for me. Trying to corral droplets while also keeping them clear of roaming baddies quickly becomes a real challenge--to the point that Tane wo Maku Tori often feels a bit too frantic for its own good.

Still, I'm glad it exists, as its many quirks allow it to stand out in the WonderSwan's dense field of puzzle games. Also, it's a puzzler that stars a sad crow; it would be kind of hard not to like such a thing, wouldn't you agree?

Have any of you played Tane wo Maku Tori? If so, share your own feelings about it in the comments section of this post. And feel free to share any advice or tips you may have with me there, too--I'm all ears!

See also: previous 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' posts and photos of Tane wo Maku Tori's lovely packaging

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Engacho!

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Welcome to WonderSwan World: Special Glamour Shots® Edition

Three WonderSwan-focused posts in a row? Seriously?

Yes, seriously.

I guess you could say I have Bandai's Japan-only GameBoy competitor on the brain right now. Don't worry, I'll write about something else in the next few days. (In fact, a couple of half-finished, 3DS-centric posts are staring at me, begging to be wrapped up, as I type this one.)

In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy ogling the following photos I recently snapped of my WonderSwan Color system and a selection of the WonderSwan games I brought on the road with me this year.



I took these photos in a Palm Springs (California) hotel room, by the way. Its decor didn't exactly lend itself well to such snapshots, so I improvised a light box by going to a nearby Walmart (don't judge), buying a large piece of white poster board and then laying it on a table near our room's main windows.

Granted, that isn't a whole lot different from what I did to nab game and console photos back when I lived in Seattle. There, I placed items on a white, well-lit IKEA table that also effectively replicated a light box.

Anyway, enough about that. I promised WonderSwan Glamour Shots®, so let's focus on them from here on out, shall we?

The first two showcased here are of my translucent black WonderSwan Color system. It's a real beauty, isn't it? Honestly, I'm head-over-heels in love with this handheld's design. Strangely, I think I like the look of the original WonderSwan best (it's a tad sleeker and smidge more minimalist than its two successors), but the Color is pretty sweet, too.

If you'd like to see a few photos of the WonderSwan Color's box, by the way, you can do so by checking out my first "Welcome to WonderSwan World" post or this Flickr photo album. (The latter includes shots of a number of WonderSwan game boxes, cartridges and manuals, too, in case that sort of thing interests you.)

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Clock Tower

When it comes to video games, I tend to prefer cute, quirky and whimsical ones to those that are more realistic or serious.

When it comes to movies, though, I tend to prefer those that are tense and scary to almost anything else.

Seriously, I've been a horror-film buff since I rented and watched a VHS tape of the first Nightmare on Elm Street as an early teen.

For whatever reason, my interest in scary movies has rarely translated to me playing scary games. That's not because I think the latter are unappealing, mind you. Actually, I've found a ton of scary games intriguing over the years. Almost every time I start one, however, I quickly become overwhelmed to the point that I have to turn the damn thing off.

A relevant case in point: the original, Super Famicom version of Human Entertainment's Clock Tower.

I've tried to play this point-and-click survival-horror game on multiple occasions. Unfortunately, each one ended rather abruptly--usually around the first time the series' unimaginatively named antagonist, Scissorman, shows his face and grotesquely (some might say comically) massive weapon of choice.

Say what you will about my inability to deal with those scissor-on-girl encounters, but the fact remains that trying to run away from a murderous maniac using a cursor controlled by a directional pad is stressful--or at least it has been for me.

Is that still true with Clock Tower for WonderSwan? (That's the full title of this port, by the way. For whatever reason, a lot of game publishers followed that same naming convention while prepping ports of games for Bandai's oddball handheld.) Yes and no.

Don't get me wrong, this portable version of Clock Tower freaks me out every bit as much as its console counterparts did and continue to do. I've done my best to get over that, though, so I can write the post you're reading right now.

Before I get into my feelings on this WonderSwan cartridge, here are a few tidbits you should know about it:

* This iteration of Clock Tower was made for the original WonderSwan system, so it's in black and white rather than in color like its Super Famicom and PlayStation predecessors.

* A company called Kaga Tech developed it. To be honest, I'd never even heard of Kaga Tech before I started doing research for this write-up. Is or was the company at all related to Kaga Create, which produced titles for everything from the Famicom to the Saturn, or that outfit's parent firm, Kaga Electronics? I believe so, as Naxat (Soft) published this port, and Naxat was the public-facing name of Kaga's gaming devision. Regardless, GameFAQs tells me Kaga Tech at least made a bunch of WonderSwan games as well as a few for the GameBoy, GameBoy Advance and PlayStation during its heyday.

* As far as I can tell, Clock Tower for WonderSwan is a shockingly faithful conversion of the 1995 original. Some concessions were made so the game could run on WonderSwan hardware, of course--such as the aforementioned lack of color, a lower resolution and a minimalist head-up display (more on that last one in a second)--but besides those, everything else seems to be in place.

Don't take that last bullet point to mean this handheld iteration of Human Entertainment's cult classic is near-perfect. It's not.

Although it looks surprisingly great in black and white, and although it controls as well as could be expected of a point-and-click game that requires players to use a d-pad, its protagonist, Jennifer, moves as though she's wading through knee-deep molasses. (To see what I mean, check out this video of Clock Tower for WonderSwan in action. For comparison's sake, here is footage of the Super Famicom version.)

That alone will be a deal-breaker for some, I'm sure. For me, it's mostly been an occasional annoyance. Usually, I'm fine with it; at other times, I daydream about my Clock Tower cart suddenly igniting and melting into a pool of unrecognizable goo.

Regardless, Clock Tower for WonderSwan's slowness is a shame, as every other aspect of the game is captivating. OK, so at first I didn't like that it no longer displays Jennifer's portrait, which in the Super Famicom and PlayStation versions depicts the orphan girl's stamina and stress levels. After a bit of reflection, though, I decided Kaga Tech's (or Naxat's, if you prefer) substitution--three dots along the edge of the screen that appear and disappear depending on how worked up Jennifer is or isn't--is perfectly serviceable.

Other than that and the previously discussed lack of speed? Not much to grouse about, if you ask me. I personally love the moody, low-tech look of this port and I've never really run into any issues with moving Jennifer about via my WonderSwan Color's weird directional pad and A and B buttons. (For the curious: the d-pad controls a cursor, while pressing the A and B buttons allows you to walk or run toward the cursor, examine the environment, pick up or use items and fight off Scissorman.)

I'm also now a big fan of how Clock Tower of WonderSwan progresses. Following a brief intro, you (as Jennifer) are left alone in the titular mansion. Silence surrounds you. The only sounds you hear are those of Jennifer's feet walking along wooden and carpeted floors. That is, until Scissorman makes his first appearance. Then both background music and panic kick in, and the race to find Jennifer's fellow orphans and escape their supposed new home begins.

I've yet to accomplish that last task, and I have a feeling I'll need to refer to a guide to do so, but I'm perfectly OK with that.

In the meantime, I'm getting a kick out of exploring Clock Tower--both the mansion in particular and the game in general--while also trying to avoid or fend off the incessant Scissorman, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

Are any of you Clock Tower fans? If so, have you experienced this WonderSwan release? Regardless, please share your thoughts and opinions on those topics or anything I've said here in the comments section below.

Also, if you'd like to see photos of Clock Tower for WonderSwan's box and cartridge, you can do so via this Flickr photo album of mine.

See also: my 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' post about Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party

Nice Package! (Puzzle Bobble, WonderSwan)

I've got to be honest here: I was more than a bit apprehensive about buying a black-and-white port of Taito's Puzzle Bobble.

The fact is, I'm generally not all that interested in black-and-white ports of games that usually are drenched in color. You know, like, the platformer--Bubble Bobble--that spawned this puzzler. Or Puyo Puyo. Hell, even Pac-Man, Bomberman and Adventures of Lolo come to mind.

Still, I've had some good times with the pair of Bubble Bobble titles that were published for the GameBoy in 1990 and 1993. Also, I'm surprisingly fond of Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party, as I explained in my most recent "Welcome to WonderSwan World" write-up.

So, when I came across a rather cheap complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan a couple of months ago, I bit the bullet and bought it despite my initial reservations.

Am I happy I with my purchase now that I've spent some time with this seemingly gimped conversion of Taito's classic coin-op? Yes, I am.

I don't want to say too much about why that is in this post, though, because I'll cover a lot of that ground in a future installment of "Welcome to WonderSwan World."

What I'm willing to say here: Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan port both looks and sounds better than you're probably imagining (you can see and hear what I'm talking about in this YouTube longplay of the game). Also, it's surprisingly enjoyable to play.



This iteration's graphics and gameplay aren't solely responsible for why I'm glad I added this title to my growing collection of WonderSwan carts, however. Just as responsible: its packaging, of course.

The best part of owning a complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan, in my humble opinion, is its cover art. Although not as amazing as the illustration conjured up for the game's Neo Geo Pocket Color port (see it here), it's basically on par with the one plastered across the front of the Puzzle Bobble Super Famicom box.

Going back to Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan cover imagery, while looking at this post's first photo, you may notice it sports both a Taito as well as a Sunsoft logo.

That's because, unlike the original arcade release of Puzzle Bobble, which Taito developed and published, Sunsoft published this one--at the beginning of July in 1999.



Sunsoft didn't develop it, though. A company called Yoshidayama Workshop handled that task.

Don't worry if Yoshidayama Workshop doesn't ring a bell; before I started doing my research for this post, I'd never come across its name either.

Which makes sense, as according to GameFAQs, Yoshidayama Workshop only ever developed a small handful of video games. Besides this portable Puzzle Bobble, it also produced two other WonderSwan titles (Meta Communication Therapy: Nee Kiite!, released in 2000, and Wonder Classic, released in 2001) and a Japan-only GameBoy cartridge called Itsudemo! Nyan to Wonderful.

I can't speak to the quality of that trio of games, as I've never played any of them, but I can say Yoshidayama Workshop did a pretty good job down-porting Taito's Bubble Bobble-inspired puzzler to the WonderSwan hardware.

I wish I could say the same about the designers who created this title's instruction booklet. Sure, it's colorful, as a glance at the photo above should make clear, but it's also devoid of the kinds of illustrations that pop up in every other Bubble Bobble or Puzzle Bobble manual I've seen to date.

Oh, well, it's hardly the end of the world--especially when the rest of this Puzzle Bobble release's packaging is so stellar.

What do you think of the box, cartridge and manual shots shown throughout this post? Also, what do you think of this version of Puzzle Bobble? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Rainbow Islands Putty's Party

Before you get too excited about this portable reimagining of Taito's classic quarter-muncher--and Bubble Bobble sequel--from 1987, I have to share the following, potentially buzz-killing details:

* A company called DigitalWare developed this version of Rainbow Islands. Besides Putty's Party, the only other releases on its resume are a small handful of "Simple" series games for the PS2 and DS. (In other words, neither legendary developer Fukio Mitsuji nor anyone else at Taito had a hand in this "port.")

* Less damning than the above, but still plenty relevant to this conversation: a company called MegaHouse published Putty's Party (in 2000). The only other games it helped bring to the masses are another WonderSwan game (Tetsujin 28-gou) and a trio of fairly random, Japan-only DS titles.

* Unlike basically every other Rainbow Islands game around, Putty's Party is rendered in black, white and a few shades of gray.

* As far as I'm aware, Putty's Party doesn't include all 10 of the arcade original's islands.

Sorry for that last "as far as I'm aware" bit, but up 'til now I've only been able to complete the game's first four islands (Darius, Doh's, Insect and Monster)--which, intriguingly, can be tackled in any order.

Unfortunately, simply finishing those islands doesn't cause any new ones to appear. My gut tells me more are revealed if you manage to nab all seven collectible diamonds on each of the initial isles, but I can't say that with any certainty since I've yet to accomplish that far-from-simple feat.

As for what I think of the stages I have experienced, well, let's start with a positive impression. An obvious one is that Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party is played with the WonderSwan system held sideways, so its screen is oriented vertically. That may sound gimmicky, but it's not. In this game, as in others made for Bandai's would-be GameBoy competitor, it lets you see quite a bit more of the playfield than you would if everything were depicted horizontally.

Speaking of which, the playfields in Putty's Party--as well as every other visual aspect of the game, really--are surprisingly impressive. I want to call them "arcade perfect" besides their lack of color, but I'm not sure that's technically true. Regardless, they look better than most Rainbow Islands ports of the time. (I'm also rather fond of the manga-inspired intermission screens that follow every stage, I've got to say. They're completely static, but they're also well-drawn and add a welcome bit of flair to this release.)

One caveat I've got to add to the above: the protagonist Putty's sprite isn't quite up to snuff, in my opinion.

Another component of Putty's Party that disappoints, at least at first, is its controls. I've always thought the arcade original seemed kind of stiff, especially while executing jumps, but this WonderSwan version feels even more rigid. It's also noticeably slower than its quarter-munching predecessor, which is sure to increase the annoyance felt by some players.

Here's the thing, though: after a while, and after accepting its existence, the stiff slowness of Putty's Party stopped bothering me. That's not to say I now "like" it, mind you, but I also don't hate it to the point of wanting to smash my WonderSwan Color to smithereens, so I'll call it a wash, if not exactly a plus.

I've also come around to another of this port's quirks--that being how the third (of four) level of each island offers up gameplay that's subtly and strangely different from what Rainbow Islands veterans are used to encountering.

For example, water starts flooding Insect Island's third stage basically from the word go, adding an element of tension that usually only pops up if you dillydally or otherwise take too long to reach an area's summit.

The third stage of Doh's Island, on the other hand, requires you to expose a secret door that acts as an exit rather than climb to a giant treasure chest in the sky to escape its clutches. (Note: at the moment, I don't really know what causes that door to appear, although I suspect the culprit is jumping onto a specific platform or dropping a rainbow onto one.)

Although curious, I wouldn't describe either of these additions as entirely welcome. Still, they provide a unique take on Rainbow Islands' traditional gameplay, so I it's hard to discount them completely.

Given all of the above, I'd warn against spending too much money on a copy of this game if you're at all uncertain you'll enjoy it due to its eccentricities. (I can't help but assume the majority of WonderSwan owners will not respond to them as favorably as I have.)

That said, if you've, say, spent time with Nintendo's Ice Climber and it didn't cause you to put a controller through a wall, and if you aren't horrified by the idea of a colorless Rainbow Islands, you could do worse than add Putty's Party to your WonderSwan collection.

See also: my first 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' post about the WonderSwan Color system

Welcome to WonderSwan World: the WonderSwan Color system

Before I start sharing my experiences with the many WonderSwan and WonderSwan Color games already in my collection, I thought I should say a few words about the WonderSwan system.

Actually, I can't say anything about the original, black-and-white WonderSwan system (released all the way back in 1999), as I've never played one. For the same reason, I also can't say anything about the third piece of WonderSwan hardware, the SwanCrystal, which hit Japanese store shelves in 2002. (I plan on buying one of the latter in the next few months, by the way, so hopefully I'll be able to chat about it soon.)

What I can talk about here: the WonderSwan Color system. It made its debut (in Japan, of course) in late 2000--just a year and a half after Bandai shipped the original model of its GameBoy Color competitor.

As its name implies, the WonderSwan Color added a color screen to the mix. That screen is a tad larger than the one built into the original WonderSwan, by the way--2.9 inches (diagonally) compared to about 2.5 inches.

Actually, the WonderSwan Color hardware as a whole is a bit bigger than that of its predecessor as well. I can't pass along the exact dimensions of either system right now, but the WonderSwan Color is approximately the same size as two iPhone 5Cs stacked on top of each other.



Besides that, the WonderSwan Color is powered by a single AA battery (which allows for around 20 hours of play) and, mostly importantly and intriguingly, offers users a bevy of buttons and control inputs.

The most curious of those input options are the pair of split directional pads situated along the left side of the system. To be honest, I have a feeling they're not really split d-pads. Instead, they're probably just buttons arranged to look like and simulate a pad. Regardless, you use them to control movement while playing WonderSwan games (and quite adroitly, I might add), so I guess it doesn't matter if they're really split directional pads or not.

At any rate, the cool thing about this particular grouping of buttons is they let you play a WonderSwan system horizontally or vertically. (When the system is held vertically, the left set of buttons act as the system's d-pad, while the right set act as action buttons.)

Now, you can't just switch between the two willy-nilly. Most games stick to one orientation for the entirety of the experience, with the majority forcing you to hold your WonderSwan horizontally, like a GameBoy Advance, PSP or Vita. Don't fret if the ability to play handheld games vertically has you excited, though; a good number of WonderSwan titles require you to hold your system in that position. (A handful of examples from my own collection: Puzzle Bobble, Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party and Tane wo Maku Tori.) Also, a select few--including Kaze no Klonoa: Midnight Museum and Makaimura--incorporate both orientations into their gameplay.

Some words of warning about playing WonderSwan games with the system held vertically: it's not all it's cracked up to be. Don't get me wrong, it's unique and interesting, but it's not always enjoyable or comfortable, mainly because the system is so small. (If your hands are tiny, you may not have any problems holding it. But if your hands are on the larger side, prepare for some uncomfortable moments while playing vertically oriented WonderSwan titles.)

Still, experiencing portable games in this manner is such a breath of fresh air that I think it's worth dealing with the occasional hand cramp it's bound to cause.



That's nothing compared to the main issue associated with using a WonderSwan Color, which is its screen isn't illuminated. Although recent portable game systems like Nintendo's DS and 3DS, or Sony's PSP and Vita, feature backlit screens, all three of Bandai's WonderSwan models follow in the footsteps of older handhelds--like the GameBoy or the Neo Geo Pocket--by utilizing screens that are only visible under plenty of ambient light. (And in the case of the original WonderSwan as well as the WonderSwan Color, you have to futz with the system's contrast wheel before you can see anything clearly, even in perfect lighting conditions.)

This may not sound so bad if you've never tried playing a handheld without a backlit (or frontlit) screen, but believe me, it can be a challenge. I often feel like I have to squint to see what's going on even in perfect lighting.

Given that, I can't exactly recommend everyone run out and buy a WonderSwan Color along with a pile of WonderSwan cartridges, as I imagine most people who are used to more modern portable gaming hardware will find it difficult to fully enjoy Bandai's offering.

If you've spent plenty of time with a GameBoy or GameBoy Color or GameBoy Advance in recent months or years, though, and as a result you're basically aware of what you'll be getting into with the WonderSwan Color, go ahead and buy one. (Or, better yet, spend the extra cash needed to pick up a SwanCrystal, as it supposedly sports the best screen of the bunch.)

Before you do that, though, you may want to wait until I've written about a few of its games. Thankfully, I'm planning to publish "Welcome to WonderSwan World" posts about a slew of titles--such as Clock Tower, Engacho!, Puzzle Bobble and Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party--over the next couple of weeks.

See also: more photos of my WonderSwan Color system and collection of WonderSwan games

Introducing: Welcome to WonderSwan World

I'm not sure anyone asked for this, but here it is anyway: a new blog series in the vein of my "A Decade of DS," "Year of the GameBoy" and "10 Most Influential Games" projects.

(Both the "10 Most Influential Games" and "Year of the GameBoy" efforts will continue in the coming weeks and months, by the way. In fact, I'll publish my next entry in the former series in just a couple of days.)

So, what will I write about in future "Welcome to WonderSwan World" posts? Bandai's Japan-only WonderSwan portable gaming system, of course--as well as its library of black-and-white as well as color titles.

I certainly have enough to cover in these write-ups. I've been buying WonderSwan games for a number of years now--hell, I'd already acquired 10 by the time I published this post in mid-2015.



That number jumped to 16 (I think) after I obtained a translucent black WonderSwan Color system and a handful of complete-in-box cartridges via eBay later that same year. (You can read all about that experience, and see photos of the auction's contents, in "the 'Tumbleweed Portable Club' (of lonely WonderSwan owners) has another member.")

At any rate, my "Welcome to WonderSwan World" posts will differ a bit from my "A Decade of DS" and "Year of the GameBoy" ones. The plan at the moment is for them to focus on a single game at a time, first and foremost. Also, they'll offer up relevant historical details on the titles in question as well as gameplay explanations or descriptions.

I'm not thinking of these write-ups as reviews, by the way, although you'll definitely walk away from them knowing whether or not I'd recommend others buy and play the games at their center.

With all that out of the way, I hope at least some of you enjoy this new series--even if this is the first you're hearing of this wonderfully (and oddly) named handheld.

Seven 'old' games I'm planning to play at some point in 2017

Late last year, I published a trio of posts about the many Japanese and North American 3DS and Vita games I'm planning to play sometime in 2017.

(This post covers the 3DS games I'm itching to experience, while this post and this post cover the Vita games on my "play as soon as possible in the next 12 months" list.)

Despite my current living situation, I'm also hoping to play a number of "old" games next year. Here are the ones I'd like to tackle first:

Clock Tower (WonderSwan)--Why would I play the WonderSwan port of Human Entertainment's first Clock Tower game when I could play the Super Famicom or PlayStation versions instead? Because I want to show my new-ish WonderSwan Color system some love, for starters. Also, I can't help but think that playing this game in black and white could be kind of cool--not to mention surprisingly atmospheric. If only experiencing Clock Tower on a fairly small screen would make Scissorman's appearances a bit less terrifying.

Last Window (DS)--After ignoring it for ages, I finally played through--and thoroughly enjoyed--Cing's Hotel Dusk in 2015. (You can read some of my thoughts on it in this "A Decade of DS" post.) I have a hard time believing this sequel from 2010 will be anywhere near as captivating as the original, but I'd love for my skepticism to be proven unwarranted. Regardless, it'll be really nice to hold my DS Lite--or, you know, my go-to 3DS--sideways like a book again.

London Seirei Tantei-Dan (PlayStation)--A Japanese RPG set in Victorian England that's full of lovely sprite art and turn-based battles? Where do I sign up? Also, why did it take me until late 2016 to track down a copy of such a game? I've yet to even stick my London Seirei Tantei-Dan disc into my trusty PSone system, of course, but I'm determined to rectify that in the coming months. I'm also determined to publish a post about this game's magnificent packaging, by the way, so be on the lookout for it if that sort of thing is your cup of tea.

Metroid II (GameBoy)--I'm one of those weird folks who loved both Metroid and Super Metroid as a teen but then never played another Metroid game. I'm not kidding here--no Metroid: Fusion, no Metroid: Zero Mission, no Metroid Prime and, yes, no Metroid II. That last game is the most appealing to me, and everyone knows how much I adore the GameBoy, so I'm going to do my best to jump back on the Metroid bandwagon (if such a thing still exists after Nintendo's attempts to kill the series) with it in 2017.

Mother (Famicom)--I actually put a few hours into this game a couple of years ago. For whatever reason, though, I walked away from it after that--despite the fact I was really enjoying its rather antiquated (especially in comparison to follow-up EarthBound) adventure. I'd prefer to give it a second chance by buying and playing EarthBound Beginnings on my 3DS (ahem, Nintendo), but since that's unlikely to be an option, I guess I'll either put the Mother cart I bought ages ago to use or, you know, plug the old EarthBound Zero ROM into my emulator of choice.

Seiken Densetsu 3 (Super Famicom)--You'd think someone who absolutely loves the second Seiken Densetsu game, released in North America as Secret of Mana, would've played the third by now. Well, you'd be wrong. I find Seiken Densetsu 3's graphics mesmerizing, though, so look for me to finally put it through its paces by the end of this year. (I'd like to do the same to the similarly gorgeous Legend of Mana, to be perfectly honest, but that may be a stretch given everything else on my plate.)

Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner: Soul Hackers (3DS)--When Atlus announced this 3DS  port of it Japanese Sega Saturn game from 1997, I told anyone who would listen that I'd buy it as soon as it hit store shelves in my neck of the woods. Nearly four years later, I've still yet to follow through on that affirmation. Copies of Soul Hackers are pretty cheap these days, though, so I'll do what I can to add one to my pile of 3DS cartridges before this time in 2018.

Are you planning to play any particular "old" games this year? If so, which ones?