Nice Package! (Landstalker, Mega Drive)

Sega's (or maybe I should say Climax Entertainment's) Landstalker is one of a small handful of games that really defined the 16-bit era for me.

As much as I loved the 8-bit systems--oh, boy, did I (and still do)--the color and resolution bumps showcased in games produced for their 16-bit successors blew my teenage mind.

If you aren't old enough to have lived through the transition from 8-bit to 16-bit gaming, compare the Famicom port of Konami's TwinBee to Pop'n TwinBee for the Super Famicom. Or compare, say, the battles in any of Enix's first four Dragon Quest titles to those in Tengai Makyou II: Manji Maru for the PC Engine Super CD-ROM2 system.

When Landstalker was first shown off in the gaming magazines I pored over as a youngster, I compared it to the likes of Square's Final Fantasy Adventure and Nintendo's The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. Those titles were (and continue to be) gorgeous in their own right, of course, but back when Landstalker was released, especially, its aesthetic looked light years beyond what they offered up.

To be honest, I can't say I enjoyed playing Landstalker as much as I enjoyed playing Final Fantasy Adventure or A Link to the Past (the isometric perspective in Climax's effort often makes things awkward), but that's a different story.

At any rate, I'll always have a soft spot for Landstalker. Which I guess helps explain why I recently picked up a complete-on-box copy of the Japanese Mega Drive version of the game. (And before that, I bought copies of two other great Mega Drive games: Shining Force and Shining Force II. I guess I should add Shining and the Darkness to the pile ASAP.)



Would I have picked up a copy of Landstalker even if I hated the game? Given its eye-popping packaging, probably.

Hell, the cover art alone is worth the price of admission in my humble opinion, though its cart label (above) certainly is no slouch.

The Landstalker Mega Drive manual is a looker, too, as the photos included in this post hopefully prove.

Even the back of this Japanese game's box, below, is easy on the eyes.

Speaking of which, I love that someone at developer Climax named Landstalker's isometric engine. (That would be "Diamond Shaped Dimension System," or "DDS 520," for the curious.) Sadly, I don't believe they ever used it for another Mega Drive or Genesis game.

Are any of you Landstalker fans? If so, what are your favorite aspects of this 16-bit RPG?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Manual Stimulation: Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe (GameBoy)

Considering how well Nintendo's GameBoy sold outside of Japan, the number of quality titles that never left the handheld's home country amazes me.

Technos' Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe: Ohanabatake wa Dai-Panic is a great example.

Its gameplay is difficult to describe, as it's unlike anything I've played before or since. If forced, I'd probably defer to something like "single-screen arcade action," but of course that doesn't give anyone much of an idea as to what they'll experience should they pick up and play a copy of this 1994 release.



Would calling it a cute tower-defense game help at all? That's basically what Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe is, although even that doesn't completely do its gameplay justice.

For some additional detail, read this 2014 write-up of mine: "Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe: Ohanabatake wa Dai-Panic is both a mouthful and an eyeful." I'd say more here, but I want this post to focus on the game's adorable instruction manual.



And it is adorable, don't you think? That's mostly due to its wonderful illustrations, of course, but I'd say it's also due to the pastel hues its designers used while printing it.



Actually, it's a good thing those pastels are present, because they really spruce up a few of the manual's handful of humdrum pages and spreads.



The map seen on the page below shows off the many different lands that host Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe's stages, by the way.



One cool thing about this game's stages is you can tackle them in whatever order strikes your fancy.

My 10 Most Influential Games: Bubble Bobble (Arcade)

Although I have a pretty good memory, I'm rarely able to recall my first experiences with specific video games.

Thankfully, that's not true of my introduction to Bubble Bobble.

As I'm sure I've mentioned here before, my hometown has a rather nice bowling alley that my friends and I visited regularly while we were growing up. Tucked into its back corner were a slough of arcade cabinets and pinball machines, and we spent as much time playing them as we did bowling.

Among the games that gobbled up our hard-earned allowance money: Gauntlet, Karate Champ, Paperboy, Pole Position, Ring King, Xenophobe--and of course Bubble Bobble.

To be completely honest, I'm not entirely sure what drew my attention to Bubble Bobble's cabinet for the first time. I have a feeling it was the game's glorious, ear-wormy jingle, but it very well may have been its adorable, rainbow-coated visuals.

Something I remember clearly about my initial experiences with this classic quarter-muncher: I absolutely sucked at it. Although I blame some of my ineptitude on not fully understanding Bubble Bobble's rules right off the bat, but mostly I blame it on my life-long discomfort with using a joystick. (Ironic, right? Seriously, though, I've always preferred using a d-pad.)

Still, I kept coming back to it, and over time I got better and better at this Fukio Mitsuji-made (for Taito) title.

So, how did it influence my current taste in video games? It did so in a couple of ways, actually.

One is that it hurled me down the path toward loving games that feature collectible food items. Ms. Pac-Man showed me to its entrance (thanks to the level that offers up a pretzel rather than a piece of fruit, strangely enough), but Bubble Bobble and its bowls of sherbet, corndogs, sushi and martinis pushed me well inside.

Ever since, I've drooled over almost any game that includes such nabables. A few examples: Coryoon, Monster Lair, The New Zealand Story and Parasol Stars. (For more, read my old post, "the 10 fruitiest games (of which I'm aware).")

Bubble Bobble shaped my current taste in video games in another way as well--by opening my eyes to the wonderful world of single-screen platformers. (Here are some of my favorites, in case you're curious.)

Was Bubble Bobble the first single-screen platformer to see the light of day? Not by a long shot. A game called The Fairyland Story--also published by Taito, interestingly enough--beat Bub and Bob to the arcades by at least a year, and I wouldn't be surprised if a handful of other titles could claim the same.

Regardless, Bubble Bobble introduced me to the genre that's now one of my favorites. And not only that, but in the ensuing decades, it's served as a point of comparison for every other single-screen platformer that's come my way.

Naturally, none of those wannabes have quite stacked up to this 1986 release. I think that's because the game they so desperately try to ape is supremely focused and straightforward.

A case in point: unlike most of the games that have tried to snatch its genre-king crown over the years, Bubble Bobble keeps its control scheme simple. You can jump, you can blow bubbles, you can hop on bubbles--and that's basically it. (OK, so some levels let you pop bubbles that send lightning bolts at enemies or cover platforms with swaths of fire, but they're in the minority. The bulk of the game's levels force you to focus on the trio of aforementioned actions.)

Also, Bubble Bobble's stages never take up more than a single screen (hence the name of the gaming genre that contains it). And then, of course, there are its timeless graphics and its grin-inducing background tune.

At the end of the day, though, the aspect that keeps me coming back to Bubble Bobble, and that causes me to label it "influential," is its unfailingly enjoyable gameplay. Even when one of its stages is kicking my butt (an all too regular occurrence, I'm afraid), it never stops being fun.

I can't say that about too many games, can you?

See also: previous '10 Most Influential Games' posts about The 7th Guest and Balloon Kid.

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.

Nice Package! (Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, Super Famicom)

Square Enix's recent unveiling of the Seiken Densetsu Collection for Switch (due out in Japan on June 1) prompted me to think about a few games I haven't pondered in years.

Specifically, it prompted me to think about Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, which were released for the Super Famicom in 1993 and 1995, respectively. (The former came to North America later the same year it hit Japan, while other regions had to wait until 1994.)

Actually, I mostly thought about Seiken Densetsu 2, known as Secret of Mana in the West. That's because I've never played the third Seiken Densetsu game, although I was keenly aware of and interested it in the run-up to its Japanese release.

Anyway, back to Seiken Densetsu 2, I remember when it first started appearing in North American game magazines like Electronic Gaming Monthly and DieHard GameFan, which often referred to it as Final Fantasy Adventure 2.



I loved everything about it from the word go--the colorful backdrops, the surprisingly large (for the time) character and enemy sprites, the plethora of useable weapons and the real-time combat.

I'm pretty sure my brother and I obtained this game as soon as we were able, which likely meant I received it as a birthday gift or we got it for Christmas.

Regardless, we spent a lot of time playing through it together shortly after it hit store shelves in our neck of the woods.

Is there any chance I'll finish Secret of Mana--or Seiken Densetsu 2--if I pick up a copy of the Seiken Densetsu Collection for Switch? (You can pre-order it via amiami.com, by the way.) I kind of doubt it, but who knows?



Far more likely would be for me to finish the first Seiken Densetsu--renamed Final Fantasy Adventure when it was brought to North America--or even Seiken Densetsu 3.

Speaking of the original Seiken Densetsu, here's a post I wrote and published about its beautiful packaging (outer box, cartridge and manual) a while back.

Of course, this post is supposed to be about the beautiful packaging the folks at Square Enix--Squaresoft back then, actually--produced for Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3, so maybe I should start talking about that.

On that note, I think the photos included throughout this write-up are pretty self-explanatory, don't you think?

One comment I'd like to add: Seiken Densetsu 2's box art (see top photo) is one of my all-time favorites.

Also, the clay models of that game's main characters, which can be seen in the snapshot of its instruction booklet, have always brought a smile to my face.

Seiken Densetsu 3's manual is pretty awesome, too--its cover, especially.

What do you think of the boxes, cartridges and manuals made for Seiken Densetsu 2 and 3? And what do you think of the games themselves, if you've played them?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about Cid to Chocobo no Fushigi na Dungeon (DS), Final Fantasy (Famicom) and Shining Force (Mega Drive)