echochrome review

Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.

echochrome is a strange game for many reasons, not least the fact that it doesn’t understand English grammar. Its delivery to the consumer is just plain baffling, with Japanese and European gamers receiving a UMD copy containing over three hundred levels on top of separate PS3 and PSP download releases which contain just over fifty (different) levels. The Americas, on the other hand, are left hanging with only the downloadable releases, perhaps throwing caution into the wind as to whether or not the country that brought us the Big Mac would dare pick up the worst box art in the history of mankind. 

Enough about the packaging though. The bizarre construction that is echochrome inside out continues throughout the game play itself. If you own a PlayStation Portable think about the quirky Japanese titles you've seen before, such as LocoRoco and Patapon, and then think of a much higher concept. echochrome, at it's core, is a puzzle game inspired by M. C. Escher's artwork. There are no high resolution graphics, guns, or explosions to be found here, only black line drawings on a white canvas. 

The idea is simple. Guide your line art mannequin, who walks across the playing field taking left turns whenever he can, until you have collected all the black shadows (or echoes) of yourself, which stand at strategic, hard to reach locations. The concept sounds incredibly simple until you take into account echochrome's five laws. As the player you only have control of the camera, and the ability to turn the playing field; however the control this gives you is incredibly unique.

By changing the world's prospective, you change the world. If a hole is blocking your progression, simply move to an angle where an object blocks your view of it and the hole no longer exists. Moving to another platform is equally as ingeniously simple, requiring you to simply move the camera until it looks like two blocks are touching. Despite the real distance of height of the blocks, the platforms will join together until you reposition the camera again.

This brilliant twist on the puzzle formula, where every new level brings a new challenge in platform, echo, hole and jump platform positions, is incredibly unique and clever in concept, which is why it's such an incredible shame that the execution doesn’t match the idea.

The first issue with echocrome is the touchiness of the controls. Whether you’re using the PSP's nub, the PS3's analogue sticks or sixaxis control, the world of echocrome simply isn’t laxed enough for the input method being used. Sometimes simple platform connections become incredibly frustrating, leaving you irritated as to why they won’t join without absolute precision alignment.

This is without taking into account the fact that echocrome breaks it's own golden rules. Whether it's blocks that have seemingly connected that the mannequin wont cross, platforms that simply won't connect for absolutely no reason, or holes that you fall down despite being out of view, the construction of the game simply doesn’t meet the standard of the concept it was living up to.

You also have the issue of level variety. While each new level might create a new challenge that quickly rises to the level of down right frustrating, you never receive a feeling of progression, advancement or accomplishment. All the puzzles are available from the get go and like a SuDoKu book, there is no reason to complete them all unless you're so addicted that it becomes a simple compulsion.

Granted, the same people that love a good maths puzzle will get a kick from echocrome, but for the rest of us there simply isn't a game built around the idea. Add poor game mechanic construction to the mix, and you can't help but leave echocrome being sorely disappointed. Its presentation is fantastic, and the eerie classical sound track makes the game feel beautifully polished, which is why it’s such a shame that the final product didn't match what the creators envisioned.

Late to the Party - Gears of War

Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.

'Late to the Party' represents Joshie's long running fight against the mountains of games he has left unfinished, unplayed or extremely unloved. How one man can crawl so slowly through the games he loves is unfathomable to everyone. This column is the self-inflicted punishment for these terrible crimes, in which he must complete games and give you impressions of them, even if he's just a "little late to the party". Just don't, you know... expect an update that often.

Meet really, really generic space marine. Really, really generic space marine is too long to type so lets call him Tim. Meet Tim. Tim likes to wear badass heavy armour with big badass boots as he shoots badass generic aliens with his triple heart bypass badass gun. The gun is not so generic, because it has a chainsaw attached to it in a way that just breaks the laws of all sensibilities and public safety standards, but damn if it isn't badass.

When Tim isn't taking time off from his day job to say hi to the family, take long walks in the park and get into 'relationships', he likes to yell out poorly scripted badass lines and defy his superior officers so that he can be the ultimate hero of the day when kamikaze aliens are trying to rip his homosexual partners head off.

Here comes my underlying problem. 

Gears of War is a masterpiece. It takes the meaning of polish, rips the head off of it and spits down its neck while the torso is still walking. The graphics are second to so very few, despite the fact that this game came out nearly two years ago. The third edition of the unreal engine makes a laughing stock of launch title PlayStation 3 games, forcing them to walk around with brown paper bags over their head while flaunting its incredibly high-resolution crotch protection in their face. Gears of War even manages to survive the blinded vision that developers such as Capcom and Ubisoft seem to have obtained, by actually making on screen text and HUDs that all the poor sods with standard definition TV’s can actually see.

Crumbling architecture and generic space marines have never looked so good, yet the Gears manages to be more than eye candy with its amazingly addictive game play. Brilliant set pieces laden the one player campaign with cinematic battles you will remember for a long time to come, however it's in co-op that things really start to stand out. It’s linear, it’s unoriginal and it has driving scenes, but damn if it isn’t amazingly fun. 

The weapon set in Gears of War is pretty basic, with your typical shotguns, sniper rifles and rocket launchers all in there. It does however, have some truly unique ideas such as machine guns equipped with chainsaws for close combat (a moment that never gets old) and a weapon that targets an orbiting laser cannon, while the inclusion of an active reload system (having to hit a small target on a bar when you reload your weapon, which will either grant you stronger bullets if hit or longer reloading if missed) will keep you on your toes.

Where Gears of War really shines however, is in the multiplayer experience. Teams of four fight it out against each other in a multitude of maps and modes. Between working as a team, trying to get the most kills and battling it out in some really impressive level design, the online modes alone will keep you enthralled for weeks.

The problems with Gears of War are born from the fact that it won't take too long before you realise you’ve done all this before. Generic space marine is your protagonist name, because we’ve all played his tale of woe and alien curb stomping adventures before. Of course, it’s pretty unfair to judge a book poorly solely because you’ve been there and done that before when the experience is so great. Unfortunately, a number of other hiccups attempted to break my enjoyment of the game along the way. 

In the co-op campaign for example, there are a number of scenes where you and your partner must split up and tread it alone down separate paths. While I’ll give the developers credit that some of these scenes made for a great set piece (your partner covering you from above while you fight in a war zone below, for example), others felt completely pointless and forced to the point where I had flash backs from old Scooby Doo episodes where you're simply screaming at the television that if they just bloody stuck together, the crazy bad guy in a white sheet wouldn’t get them. 

I also took big issue with the games story. The games manual is littered with pages of back story and details on exactly what happened on ‘Emergence Day’ and yet the only time the game thought it might be a good idea to bring this crucial plot device up was in a three second cut scene only played if you sit on the title screen for a substantial period of time. This lack of narration continues throughout the single player campaign to the point where I needed to constantly question "So where are we going again?" or "What’s that for?", because the game never seems to think it's that important to explain its story, despite how ridiculously basic it may be. 

Instead it finds it much more important to spend its time having badass marines yell abusive and badly scripted dialogue between each other until you desperately WANT the mother fucking aliens to win.

Then there are the glitches. For one of Microsoft’s biggest titles of two years ago, that has been patched umpteen times, I’m amazed by the sheer number of issues I ran into. 

Serious texture popping seems to be Gears of War’s main problem, varying from streets that will simply load as black canvases, only to be populated with textures a few seconds later as if the game thought graphics was an after thought, to a point in the final level where WHOLE TRAIN CARS simply ‘forgot’ to load entirely, forcing my co-op partner to lead me through invisible rooms while I bumped into every wall, crate and invisible alien that happened to prey on me.  

The other big issue I ran into multiple times throughout my play through were moments where the game would simply not allow me to change weapon. Sometimes this occurred in the form of the weapon menu simply not displaying when I clicked the d-pad, while other times I would select my shotgun only to have the game instantly bounce the cursor back to my empty tork bow, as if to say ‘you pussy, take on those narcissistic aliens with your bare hands God damn it!’

These issues can’t take away from the experience as a whole, which is incredibly polished, brilliantly executed and an incredible amount of fun. Just don’t expect it to be bug free or to blow your mind off in the originality department.

Zelda: Phantom Hourglass Review

Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.

The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass for Nintendo DS was released last year to critical acclaim, fanfare and balloon parties. Scoring high across the board, it was heralded as another great addition to the Zelda franchise. What's odd about Hourglass, however, compared to say Twilight Princess before it, is that the general feeling among gamers following its release was a resounding ‘meh…'. 

Playing through this handheld experience, I had conflicting views on the game and I think I've finally pinpointed what the problem is. Lets start off back at the beginning and discuss what Phantom Hourglass is, before I tell you what it isn't. Hourglass picks straight off from where Wind Waker left us, and by straight off, I mean literally right after. 

Having defeated Ganon, Link and his pirate buddies sail away victorious, only to have Tetra immediately kidnapped five seconds later. If she keeps this up we might just have a contestant for Peach's ‘how many times must I save you' crown. As expected from a Zelda game, the story from here on out isn't amazingly original or new, with your main goal being to complete a multitude of 'fetch' quests in order to get all the sacred gems, items and swords required to reach the final boss.

This episode's unique twist comes in the form of the Phantom Hourglass, which keeps you alive inside a special dungeon that you must visit multiple times throughout your quest. The Hourglass only contains so much sand, however, which creates in effect a time limit to complete the puzzles. While this new addition is an interesting change to the formula and surprisingly enjoyable (the creatures inside the dungeon cannot be defeated, adding an element of stealth into the mix), this section of the game can become quite repetitive as you are forced to go through all the floors you previously completed every time you enter.

One of the more controversial changes to Zelda's formula in Hourglass has to be in its controls. While Twilight Princess had some tacked on gimmicks, it was possible to play the game in a very similar fashion to previous outings, something that can't be said for Hourglass. Here the controls of Link are performed completely via the stylus and touch screen, with the DS's face buttons offering limited functionality. There is also no option to change between controls, forcing you to adopt the new format.

At first it may seem rather cumbersome and inaccurate, however after just an hour within the world of Hourglass you will realise what an amazing amount of control it offers. On the screen you are visually represented by a fairy, which Link will follow blindly off a cliff in any direction you command. Simply hold your stylus to the left of the screen and Link will run left, move it across to the right and he will run right, and so on. The real trick though, is in the combat. You need only tap on an enemy to get link to slash at it, or spin your fairy in a circle around link to make him perform a spin attack. 

Your equipment equally takes advantage of the DS's unique control method. Instead of using some rather un-intuitive targeting system for your boomerang, in hourglass you simply draw its path across the screen and it will follow you to the letter. In fact, some really unique and clever puzzles are created in this game that will make you smile at their originality when you work them out, similar to how you may have felt when you first played ‘A Link to the Past' many years ago.

The control method isn't infallible of course, leaving something to be desired when you desperately need to switch between weapons quickly. Having your stylus directly over the screen you're trying to play on also adds some annoyance to the game, as you will be constantly blocking your own view of the game play.

A couple more DS exclusive features that have been added include the addition of puzzles that require you to make some sort of noise with the microphone. While cleverly placed and rarely used so as to not make it a gimmick, it can be annoying to perform if you happen to be in a public place. Personally, I found tapping or blowing directly into the microphone to be the most effective method of saving you from embarrassment. 

While the bottom screen will always display the 2.5D game world, the upper screen displays a hand drawn map. One of the coolest features of this is your ability to pull it down to the touch screen and scribble notes on it with the stylus, which will be saved when you push it back up. Again, perhaps a little gimmicky, but don't tell me you never made a note of a switch combination on a scrap piece of paper before?

There were many criticisms of Zelda's GameCube outing when it was first released, although ironically the game that was once referred to by many Internet goers as ‘Wind Wanker' is now herald as an under appreciated masterpiece. Something you cannot deny about the game was that the sailing sections sucked, primarily because of how long it took you to get from one place to another. You'll be glad to know that sailing in Hourglass has been greatly improved with the additions of a smaller map, closer islands and a more automatic travel method, however it does still feel like the bite sized islands take away from the exploring nature of previous Zelda titles.

You're also given the option to customise your ship with parts you gather throughout your journey, which will either increase or decrease the amount of hearts your boat has, depending on the combinations you use. This will be particularly useful for surviving the games periodic sea battles.

There is no denying that Hourglass is another fine addition to the Zelda franchise, and much effort has been lovingly put inside this package in order to make it a robust and fun Zelda experience. The 2.5D world creates a brilliant return to some classic two-dimensional Zelda game play, without pulling it back from the advances the console games have made. The graphics are lush and beautiful and the music and sound will pull you ever deeper into this world. 

The grand problem however, is this. A Zelda is a Zelda is a Zelda. Having only played Twilight Princess, effectively a re-mastered Ocarina of Time, only last January, the rinse and repeat formula of this series is starting to wear thin on me and, as I can only imagine, so many others. As a nostalgia trip, it's great. As a first experience, it's amazing. However if you have played even a couple of Zelda titles previous to this one, don't expect anything resoundingly new.

Late to the Party - Final Fantasy XII

Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.

'Late to the Party' represents Joshie's long running fight against the mountains of games he has left unfinished, unplayed or extremely unloved. How one man can crawl so slowly through the games he loves is unfathomable to everyone. This column is the self-inflicted punishment for these terrible crimes, in which he must complete games and give you impressions of them, even if he's just a "little late to the party". Just don't, you know... expect an update that often.

Having vanquished Final Fantasy X at the end of 2001, die-hard Square-Enix fans would have to endure a long slog before getting their next fix. Sure, adventurers were encouraged to engross themselves in the delightful bosom of Vana'diel in 2003, fans were given soft-core porn in the first true sequel to a Final Fantasy and the company even rebuilt bridges with Nintendo in order to ride the drought. All this did, however, was disappoint those who would only touch online with a ten-foot barge pole, despised the weak-sauce difficulty of X-2 and only managed to accomplish four-player in Crystal Chronicles after taking out a second mortgage.

It wasn't until 2006, a plump five years later, that fans would get their next "true" Final Fantasy game.

Final Fantasy XII opens with a distinct political undertone that is riddled throughout. Set in the world of Ivalice, a land Final Fantasy Tactics famously spelled in four different ways, we're told the heroic tale of the kingdom of Dalmasca, a small nation stuck between two bigger ones on the brink of war. Should the inevitable happen and the cannons fire open, Dalmasca would be the battlefield, or if you like, the Belgium.

Critics around the globe praised the game for its darker tones, its riveting political twists and its deep characters, comments of which made me wonder if I picked up the right game. The story of XII is in fact one so transparently paper thin I could describe it to you in a couple of sentences. There are no shocking turns, amazing revelations or epic battles. In fact, this is a game where nothing happens.

It opens with the kingdoms of Rozarria and Archadia on the brink of war, a status that is maintained from the outset to just before the close, while your party of would be heroes trot around the map doing one ‘fetch’ quest after another. You are told in a frankly childish manner that Archadia are "the bad guys", a view you must maintain because you only ever meet one pronounced Rozarrian in the entire game.

Where the plot may actually seem to be getting deeper is in fact a smoke screen, because the characters use so much "ye old language" that you require a masters degree to understand what the hell is going on. Added to the fact that spliced in-between these incomprehensible vocals are made-up words like manufacted nethicite, Jagd and Occuria, it's a wonder anyone knows what their next goal is without checking the world map for the next blinking red arrow.

It's at this point that I should really discuss the main characters of the game, however I can't because I forgot their names. All I remember about them is that there are six, all of whom are identical planks of wood. If emotion were a person, these characters would all have rectal cancer and bowel problems.

The lead role of this tale, a sprightly male with a chest that would make small babies cry, wishes to vent some anger towards Archadia for the death of his doppelganger… I'm sorry, brother… and wishes to one day be a sky pirate! Because let’s be honest, who wouldn't? You'd think I'm only doing a very brief description of him, however that's actually as detailed as Final Fantasy XII ever went. At the opening of the game you know everything there ever is to learn about him, for he never discovers, learns or achieves anything. If you ever wanted to find a more anti-hero, you couldn't.

The rest of the starring roles follow similar bland formations, although the creators should be given some credit for at least giving them interesting personalities. Something the main character could certainly do with. These blank slates are further solidified in your mind by the games magic and ability system, known as the License Board. 

The License Board, a wholly unoriginal expansion on the Sphere Grid system, requires you to first unlock abilities with the use of LP gained in battle. However while in X this was simply limited to spells and attacks, in XII everything from swords, summons and a little breathing now and then also requires a License. After unlocking something, you are then required to also go out and buy it from one of the games multiple stores, a routine that often makes me feel ripped off. While in theory there is nothing wrong with this ystem per se, it becomes completely up to the player to create barely functional characters.

The unimaginative out there (and we know who you are) will be inclined to simply give every character everything, to disastrous results. Sure everyone might have the ability to heal, but if all your characters are equipped with the same pansy bow, how are you meant to kill anything?

Similarly the games other major system, Gambits, require deep thought or a mathematician in order to set up correctly. Having broken away from the traditional turn based battles into free roaming MMO-esque open plains, it is up to the computer to control your two companions. For better or worse, you are the one who has to "program" this.

Using statements such as "Ally: HP < 80% - Cure", you're supposed to set up your party so they can do the fighting for you. While at the start of the game this may seem like a nifty idea (hey! She just wasted all my ethers without me commanding her to!), by the end of your 80 odd hours of game play, the party is decimating, dieing, reviving and taking cigarette breaks without you pressing a single button. Call me old fashioned but doesn't the PS2 come with a controller for a reason?

The Gambit system is equally flawed by its confusing language and utterly baffling results. For example I soon discovered the need for gambit "If Ally is fucking dead again, Raise her,” but failed to find it at any local vendor. Upon consultation of a friend I was informed "Ally: Any - Raise" would work, a command that on paper should result in my mage casting revival spells on alive characters until the apocalypse. The function did in fact work, something that bemuses me to this day.

By now you must have the impression that I utterly detest the sight of this game, as was the intention, but despite all its flaws I did come out with some enjoyment. Final Fantasy XII is by far one of the largest games in the series, its beautiful open fields, deserts and skies spreading for miles. Square did a beautiful job at crafting this world and populating it with many cultures, voices and side quests. The acting in XII is fantastic, giving the people real personalities, which is why it pains me to know how two-dimensional their motives are.

Equally, the music score for the game is polished and performed to high standards, however it once again lacks any sort of true emotion. Your soon realise eighty hours in that despite it boasting a hundred strong sound track, many of the tunes sound similar or identical in tone and theme.

In all it is the heart and soul of Final Fantasy XII that is missing. No one can dispute the craftsmanship of this product, the thought behind it or the man-hours it must have taken. It pushes the PlayStation 2 to its absolute limits in every corner, but fails so miserably in achieving the quality fans have received from previous titles.

Everything from roll a dice limit breaks (that will either flatten a boss or barely prick them) to worthless summons and ultimate weapons that require a guidebook to find them, make this such a sour glass to drink. In the end the game is an incredibly enjoyable experience, with an action packed Star Wars style ending worth playing for the finale at least, however so much is missing it just feels half baked. Better luck next time perhaps?

Expecting: Crisis Core

Originally posted on ff7citadel.com and the now defunct fwxd.net.

It isn’t without a pessimistic outlook that many a Final Fantasy fan can look at the looming release of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, on September 13th. The PlayStation Portable game, the fourth in a Compilation, is to many just one more way to milk the success of a past blockbuster. Laying in the shadow of something gamers around the globe hold so close to their hearts, can Crisis Core deliver anything but complete disappointment?

History isn’t Square’s greatest supporter when we think about Crisis Core. Especially when large parallels can easily be made with one Dirge of Cerberus, a co-member of the compilation. Like Crisis Core, Dirge decided to place you in the role of a more minor character in the Final Fantasy VII tale, where it could expand on their back-story and characteristics in places that the PlayStation game had not.

Likewise, Crisis Core contains a handful of cameo appearances from Final Fantasy VII’s main party while chucking more new, less than convincing, friends and foes at you than what you would find in a bar room brawl. And it’s in these new additions to what is now a series in a series that the fans explode upon.

New characters, organisations and “hidden” research facilities spring up in more places than a whack-a-mole. For example, why the compilation developers saw fit to stick the blockhead 2D Azul in both Dirge and Before Crisis, games that happen before and after the original game when he was completely absent from it, boggles the mind. But perhaps more controversial is the idea behind the mysterious “G”.

Appearing in Dirge’s secret ending with the signature one-wing, Square is clearly attempting to create history for a character that is absolutely nothing more than Sephiroth with a different name. What I would have given to be a fly on the wall of that developer meeting, I can’t tell you.

Going into Crisis Core, they have already decided to set it prior to the original game (because quite clearly two sequels is the magic number) and that Zack must be the star role as he is the closest possible person a gamer could play without physically giving them Cloud himself. Now all that remains is for the villain to be chosen.

Considering that Shinra currently employs Zack and that they won't fall for another seven years, they are completely out of the question. Sephiroth too, is off the list due to the fact he won’t go bananas for another two years (although the game will lead to this event). We therefore have a Cloud-type protagonist who needs an opponent of his own.

Tetsuya Nomura, seemingly the only character designer at Square, must have truly earned his pay check the day he created Genesis, a man with one wing who clearly has a slight “nark” against the Shinra Corporation. Thus an epic battle between a Cloud look-a-like and a man who is Sephiroth, while not being Sephiroth, will begin in gamers hands when the game hits retail.

Stop me from jumping from the rooftops now.

Of course, while this isn’t to say Crisis Core won’t be a superb game, it’s certainly not of the cards quite yet. The graphics will be second to none on the PlayStation Portable and the frame rate and speed of the game are certainly at a much better advantage now that Sony has lifted the cap off the machines processor. The extra memory in the new PSP-Lite (which include those 77,777 Crisis Core ones) is also a bonus.

Game play wise, the game looks extremely promising from the trailers, arcing more towards an action RPG, something Square certainly has more experience in than a PS2 third person shooter. So then, would Crisis Core in fact get more attention if it wasn’t covered in Final Fantasy VII icing?

Perhaps Square-Enix’s real weakness is its fear that anything not Final Fantasy branded will be swept under the carpet, because following some atrocious attempts at exploring more of the VII story, that is the real problem.

The game is clearly good, possibly great, but its weakness stems from where its tale originates. Final Fantasy VII’s credits rolled when the story was finished, and while questions were left unanswered, that was made on the deliberate part of the developers at the time. It was a story to be marvelled and discussed, but it was not a story to be continued.

With sequels, prequels, movies, animes, cell phone games and additional merchandising and limited editions, the real question is not will Crisis Core be a disappointment, but when this is going to end? The answer?

An unquestionable remake, whether you want it or not, that will further split the fan base apart.

The real lesson Square-Enix should take from the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII is a simple one. There is milking it, and then there is milking it.

Late to the Party - Metroid

Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.

'Late to the Party' represents Joshie's long running fight against the mountains of games he has left unfinished, unplayed or extremely unloved. How one man can crawl so slowly through the games he loves is unfathomable to everyone. This column is the self-inflicted punishment for these terrible crimes, in which he must complete games and give you impressions of them, even if he’s just a "little late to the party". Just don't, you know... Expect an update that often.

Outlandish feminine groups who feel highly ‘left out’ continue to hotly contend the statement that videogames are designed for and played by males, however you only need to ask one of these boys to see the reality. If mummy was to take little Jimmy to one of those highly out dated brick and mortar shops and give him the option of buying Mario or Tomb Raider, who do you think the kid is going to choose?

The young teen adolescent, who is fighting his way through puberty like it’s a mud wrestle with a horny Carol Vorderman, has the choice of spending the next fifty hours of game play looking at A) a plumbers flab or B) Lara’s butt.

We all know which one we each chose and for those of you who only had Princess Peach’s pare of…. pees to gape at when the parents weren’t looking, I’m truly sorry.

But before you wonder where this is all going and return to viewing hilarious cat images, the point I’m trying to make is girls in video games are generally seen to be the ones your saving, or the ones you ogle at while your dinner goes cold. Which is why gamers around the world were stunned when Samus Aran was revealed to be a woman at the end of the original Metroid (that was a long introduction huh?).

Metroid places you into the shoes of a space bounty hunter in an incredibly cool and macho mechanical suit. Samus, one of those frightfully popular loaner types, has been given a mission from the Space Federation to defeat the Metroid of the planet Zebeth and the super bad mother brain. No need to explain why we should ‘defeat’ them, or what terrible deeds these floating blob creatures might have done, but they clearly pissed someone off. Lets just classify them as ‘bad’ and move on shall we?

Samus, not one to let a little death get in the way of her, had an unlimited amount of lives as you traversed the planet and slaughtered its harmless wildlife in search of weapon power ups, missile and energy tanks. Quite why these items, which are clearly designed for Samus and Samus only, are littered EVERYWHERE, we will never know. Perhaps the space pirates were preparing for a bounty hunter boot sale? Whatever the reason, these collectables are incredibly handy against the games three major bosses and add so much more to the exploration.

And it’s that sense of exploration that makes Metroid so amazing. Just like Miyamoto’s first vision for a Zelda game, the planet of Zebeth is a wide-open place with no signposts or red arrows pointing you in one direction or another. Instead you must work it out yourself, finding roadblocks at the end of certain tunnels that can only be opened by the use of power ups found elsewhere.

The miles of tunnels and caverns in Samus’ world keep you strangely compelled, dispite a complete lack of story or events. Even nineteen years on, where the game now has clearly decayic controls and graphics, Metroid is such an engrossing experience that it can keep you enthralled for hours on end. Although a speed run can take you a single hour to complete, many more can be gained looking for all the hidden treasures beneath the planets surface.

The game’s difficultly is another factor in its length. Everything from simply walking into the wrong room at the wrong time in the game all the way up to the final confrontation with mother brain will leave your carcass splattered across all four walls, but its not a game that will leave you incredibly frustrated every time you die. Instead the game would reward you with a password, a stone age method of saving, which would return you to the start of the zone you just died in with all the power ups Samus had already gained, so that your adventure could resume that much faster.

The irritation of starting at the beginning, hitting square one and having lost everything, that was popular in so many games of its time was gone with Metroid, which encouraged the player to continue where they left of, having lost little in the progress.

The whole Metroid experience is complete by music that can be beat by few. The eerie atmosphere provided by the Metroid Prime games came started from here, where even the opening title music has a sense of foreboding and tension about it. The 8-bit composing in this game may feel limited in its nature to today’s gamers, but it doesn’t take much imagination to realise what the creators were going for.

So there you have it. Metroid stars a busty tomboy in a futuristic suit, armed to the teeth to fight an innocent alien bugs bunny. It provides a story you make your own, by exploring the planet the way you want to. Nineteen years on this girls face has done little to wrinkle the edges on what is still an amazing experience.

Now available for the Wii’s virtual console, little Jimmy might be disappointed by the eye candy but everything else about this game is unlikely to disappoint. The Metroid need defeating, or they might just give Wall-Mart competition when they open a superstore on top of a wild life park near you. Will you answer the call and save the universe?