Lunar: Silver Star Harmony (PSP)

"Harmony is what Alter code:F should have been for Wild Arms"

When it comes to RPG's, all I know is I've had my fill. In the late 90's with the PlayStation in full swing, it almost seemed like every other game coming out was an RPG, much like how every other game today is a first person shooter. As mindless as the later appears to be anymore, genres have their time and place, and time has taught me what I once considered a goldmine was no different. Memories fade, reality crashes the party yet fanboys continue to place games on pedestals. It's those pedestals that I want to talk about. No, I'm not going to go on an anti-FF7, Xenogears rant here, but rather a Lunar rant. Lunar might have been hot in 1992 on the Sega CD - a system that practically no one had/has - but by the time it reached the PS1 in Silver Star Story Complete in 1999, I had no idea what the fuss was about. Sure, the game was loaded for bear with superficial extras - a cloth map, hardback manual, soundtrack CD and new full motion videos - but game was stuck in the past. Really, what was so magical about this game? What did others see that I couldn't? Ten plus years later, picking up a copy of Lunar: Silver Star Harmony at a local game store, I asked myself that question again.

Before we get into what Harmony brings to the table, let's talk a bit about classics. The back of the case tells me this is one of the "best adventures of all time." Well, that statement is full of itself much like a Rhapsody of Fire press release. Now, I would be much more apt to believe this if it said this was "one of the best adventures of it's time" which, if we just cut through all the crap, means that it's probably more of a "personal classic" to those who played it in 1992 than anything else, much like how Wild Arms became one of my "personal classics" back in 1997. Still, do I go around billing Wild Arms as one of the "greatest adventures of all time"? No, and, quite simply I don't because it isn't true. I loved Wild Arms, and I still do, but I also like to keep things in perspective, which is something advertising can rarely do.

So beyond the above, how does Wild Arms factor in to what Harmony has to offer? Well, in a nutshell, Lunar: Silver Star Harmony is what Alter code:F could have, should have been to the original Wild Arms. In Alter code:F, Media Vision disregarded a lot of what the original version of it's product offered when it "upgraded" (yeah, "upgraded," that's charitable; more like "retrofit") the game play to what was introduced in the tiresome Wild Arms 3. Harmony, on the other hand, retains what works and ditches what didn't. Those wretched dungeon designs? Gone. That archaic inventory system? Goodbye. The extremely low sampled soundtrack? Fixed. The only real problem I ran into was the game allowing me to invest an infinite amount of time in a battle that could not be won. Seriously, just make the boss smite me into the ground like in Silver Star Story Complete so we can get on with it.

Still, as impressive as this version is in comparison to the previous two (outside the voice acting), at the end of the day, this is still Lunar, and all the problems that accompany Lunar's narrative still exist. Actually, thanks to the new prologue, many of Lunar's worst kept secrets are now out in the open even more than before, and that's saying something. The game's dialogue is still extremely well written (outside the whole "we're on an adventure - yay!" thing) but is limited by personalities that don't exactly pop off the screen - at least at first. While the game seems a bit brisker this time around, a bit too much time is wasted in battle announcing attacks (the quicker the battles are in a game such as this the better) and there's some balance issues surrounding the new arts attacks (Luna's is godly) but the game is much better off with them than without.

CONCLUSION:

Despite the fact the PSP is already port/remake city, Lunar: Silver Star Harmony is one of the better efforts out there despite how limited its game play can be. While I can't say I've discovered what makes it so special in the eyes of some, I can say I'm closer to the answer than I was before. Still, despite the fact it's incredibly easy to tear down anything Lunar tries to boast about, this probably is the definitive version of this "personal classic," and if you haven't played it there is no better time than now.

Overall Score: 8/10

Moonsorrow (2001) Suden Uni

“It definitely grows on you”

I have to admit I was a little worried when I ordered a copy of Suden Uni (Wolf's Dream). Beyond having "Pakanajuhla" on an old CD I got from a friend, I literally knew nothing about Moonsorrow. Still, I enjoyed the interesting mix of metal and folk music it presented, so I dove in head first despite the fact I try to make my purchases as informed as possible. Additionally, while I like my music heavy, some metal is a bit too heavy for my taste. Given what I had already heard, Moonsorrow’s music appeared to be on the borderline, making my eventual love or hate an interesting proposition.

So how did things turn out? While I can't say it was smooth sailing right out of the gate, I have to say the album won me over. I can't really say that patience was the key, but it took quite a few listens for things to click, especially when it came to some of the moments within the first three tracks. Solid as those tracks are, it's the second half of the album that gives one the inside skinny on what Moonsorrow is all about. While the lyrics do their fair share of lifting, a song like "Tuulen koti, aaltojen koti" (Home of the Wind, Home of the Waves) comes off more as an instrumental than a typical song. In other words, the music is at the forefront of the experience here and, quite honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.

Of course, there are songs where the exact opposite holds true. As important as the folkish influences are to the aforementioned "Pakanajuhla" (Pagan's Feast), it's the ferociousness of the vocals that really ties the track together and makes it the centerpiece of the album. A different yet equally important vocal approach can be heard in 1065: Aika (1065: Time) where a medium between the two extremes makes an eleven minute monster fly by in the blink of an eye. Haunting as this number truly is, the chill it leaves behind is quickly subdued by a short reprise that lays this beast to bed.

CONCLUSION:

All in all, Suden Uni is about risks. While such a statement may seem a given when a band attempts to merge two styles of music together, it's really the nonchalant challenge the album poses to the listener that's the main draw. Good as the music is in its own right, there’s more than a solid debut here – there’s a lesson. That lesson? Take more chances, at least when it comes to music.

Overall Score: 8/10

Legend of Legaia (PS1)

"The real enemy is in the mist, but it’s not the Seru"

Genesis Trees. Seru. Ra-Seru. Malevolent Mist. Crystal Grass. Weed Hammers. There are so many things that remind me of 1999's Legend of Legaia it isn't funny. Like most RPG's, Legaia is big on imagination but short on individuality. Well, that last part isn't completely true, the game offering its own unique twist on combat. Still, was this element of the game enough to make it successful in its day, and is it enough to power it twelve years later?

In the world of Legaia, combat is a little more involved than it is in most role-playing games. Characters attack enemies with left and right punches (weapons and Ra-Seru) and high and low kicks. These strikes, when performed in a specific order, unlock “arts,” unique attacks that surpass standard blows in strength and ability. Depending on how they're performed, arts can be overlapped to form combos. In short order these basics are joined by advanced techniques like Hyper Arts (elementally-infused beat-downs), Super Arts (combos ending with otherwise inaccessible moves) and Miracle Arts (ultimate attacks that require a maxed-out command bar and ninety-nine arts points).

So how is all of this action reigned in? First of all, arts consume arts points. Also limiting what can be attempted per turn is the length of a character's command bar. By employing the “Spirit” command, the player can temporarily extend this bar, restoring their AP and raising their defense. Not only is protecting your character in this manner important, the command effectively shaving two-thirds worth of damage off any attack, it's also how your characters fuel their offensive.

Unfortunately, as clever as Tactical Arts System is, things start to slowly unravel when one looks beyond the hand-to-hand combat. As important as it is for your characters to absorb Seru throughout the course of the adventure, the player will quickly discover there is little reason to cast offensive Seru unless they're in a boss battle and can use the Kemaro spell. Faced with such a situation (despite the fact some summons can hit multiple targets) the main reason behind most casting will be healing. Unattractive as offensive magic ends up being, its small potatoes compared to the real problem holding Legaia's combat hostage: money.

So how can money cause a game's battle system to collapse? It's quite easy. We've already touched on the slow pace of combat – multiple menus, watching arts and summons unfold, the need to switch between offense and defense – that's easy to overlook when traveling from A to B. Unfortunately, this forgiveness runs thin when one's faced with the wide gap between the gold obtained from fighting and price of new equipment. So if you love to fill your coffers each time you get to a new town, you're not going to be very happy. What is going to make you unhappier is the amount of time you'll have to devote to get the cash.

Now, I'm not against working for money and experience in an RPG, but you'd think by this point in the evolution of gaming this kind of stuff would be done away with. I can see and accept things like this in an older, SNES RPG like Breath of Fire II, but in this day and age (and even back in 1999) it's unnecessary. And this is how combat, Legend of Legaia's “ace-in-the-hole” becomes its biggest liability because of it's over exposure. At this point you may be wondering if it can get any worse. It does. Random battles become tortuous during the final leg of the journey where normal enemies gain the ability to smite your entire party; it's especially painful in the final dungeon where the Seru come in threes.

Beyond the plight befalling Legaia's combat, there's little debate that the remainder of the experience is inspired, adequate, and insipid. Michiru Oshima's music is a great example. The light and heavy earthen tones employed throughout are appropriate on the whole, but it's never anything more than a simple backdrop that can't live beyond its context. Pointed commentary aside, even I have to eat those words upon entering a Mist Generator; the drive and oppression that flows from “The Misty Nest” personifies the evil nature of these infernal machines to a tee. Truth be told, there is nothing special about this composition, but it capitalizes on the kind of synergy that's missing from the majority of the score.

Legaia's storyline shares a somewhat similar fate. Like most J-RPG's, the cliche's are out in force, so don't expect anything to jump out and truly surprise you. However, one of the best segments of the game is ironically wrapped around the played-out concept of time travel. It's interesting to meet the game's villains before their decent into madness even if they're given the bare minimum of development. As one dimensional as the villains are, it's not like Vahn, Noa and Gala exactly jump off the screen. There is no doubt they are likable, but they don't break any new ground as far as character archetypes go. You have the good old country boy with the mandatory blue hair in Vahn, the disciplined warrior-monk on a quest for revenge with Gala and the lonely, socially-awkward wilderness girl Noa. As if it needs to be said, the type casting continues in battle with Vahn being the all-around character, Noa relying on her agility to make up for her fragile frame and the big bruiser Gala starting off extremely limited but coming into his own late–to-mid game.

Last but not least are graphics. While most people will probably agree that Legaia looks a lot better in battle than out of it, both realms lead to the argument that Legend of Legaia is somewhat dull and uninspired. While this happens to be true given the game's setting and scenario, there are several things that fight against it. Despite the fact the normal, non-Seru enemies could have used a lot more imagination, the Seru themselves are an intriguing bunch that come off as a demented take on Nintendo's Pokemon. Watching your characters bruise enemies with arts along with the visual evolution of your character's Ra-Seru, weapons and armor are sights to behold.

CONCLUSION:

After playing through Legend of Legaia for the first time in over a decade, I've learned that one's memory can be awfully selective. I had placed Legaia on equal footing with the genre's heavyweights only to discover that its shortcomings place it significantly lower. That said, I'm glad I played it and rediscovered the truth. As annoying as some of the situations in game can be, I'm going to go easy on it. While some will see this as a disservice, I can't condemn the game when its ambitions are in the right place. Guilty or not, if you're a fan of RPG's and have a soft spot for the original PlayStation there is no excuse to skip over what Legend of Legaia has to offer - the good, the bad and the ugly.

Overall Score: 7/10

Heavenly (2000) Coming From the Sky

"Good, but it's easy to see why it was ignored..."

Winners of the "Be Your Own Label" contest held by Noise Records, France's Heavenly are a progressive / speed metal outfit in the vein of late 80's Helloween. Coming from the Sky is the record that resulted from the band's first recording session and was met with a rather cold reception from the press. While the album would fair better with the public than professional critics, how does this debut stack up in today's world? A lot better than one would think.

As one would expect the music on Coming from the Sky drenched in all the typical trappings of Euro power metal style and offers no apologies for it. Lead vocals soar and choruses are backed up with enough force that one can literally imagine that a small, hardened platoon was hired to sing them. Solos are long and lengthy as are the songs themselves, tackling subjects like battles and perseverance that have become the calling card of the genre. It's not as drawl as this explanation is making it out to be, but the experience is derivative when it's at its worst and its best. Things start off with the opening intro. While having an opening intro is a cliche in itself for a power metal album, no one will doubt this is a power metal album upon hearing this. Tongue-in-cheek as it is, the funny part is how unnecessary it is once "Carry Your Heart" comes across ones speakers. Following up this ode to love is the strong and stout "Riding Through Hell" that conjures up the images of kings, crowns and kingdoms.

Things quickly take a turn for the worse with "Time Machine." Of all the tracks on the album, it's painfully obvious this wayward creation received the most attention with its trio of vocalists (Ben Sotto, Kai Hansen and Piet Sielck) yet fails to yields anything of value. The performances fit the song like a glove since it sounds like a low-end Gamma Ray number, but in reality, it's the kind of thing people use to exemplify how power metal beats the same old drum. Disruptive as "Time Machine" really is, it does little to derail the seductive "Number One" or a ferocious number like "Our Only Chance" that can round a corner on a moment's notice. The album revisits its opening notes with the short and sweet "Fairytale" before returning to the fray with the "My Turn Will Come" which is unfortunately the last moment of magic as "Until I Die" and "Million Ways" finish the album off in rather weak fashion.

CONCLUSION:

While I'm sure some will obviously question the value of a release that bears no real evolution over the nearly twenty year-old material it takes influence from, there are times things are enjoyable because they feel so familiar. This describes Coming from the Sky to a tee. It's far from inspiring (well, "Carry Your Heart" has been known to jazz me up something fierce) and can be rather flat at points, but this is a case where I prefer to be an optimist despite the obvious drawbacks. I'd recommend others to do the same.

Overall Score: 7/10

Pagan's Mind (2000) Infinity Divine

“A bit overextended and underdeveloped”

Known for their Stargate-inspired progressive metal, Norway’s Pagan’s Mind first came to my attention with their 2003 release Celestial Entrance. In being one of earliest albums that fueled my interest in European heavy metal, I was interested in finding out where the band had been prior musically. Enter Infinity Divine, the band’s 2000 debut that was released on a small, independent record label. Could Infinity Divine challenge or match the mature sound of its predecessor?

In the simplest sense no. The quality of the material presented on Infinity Divine can’t quite match the slick, streamlined attack heard on Celestial Entrance. Cut and dry as such a decree may seem this is hardly the end of the story. What holds Infinity Divine back? The first hurdle has already been referred to – it’s underdeveloped. This doesn’t mean the songs aren’t built around solid ideas, but for music that fits into the subdivision known as progressive metal, the instrument wizardry you'd expect just isn’t there. Adding to this conundrum is the fact the album seems to misconstrue the definition of progressive. Songs are long yet they shouldn’t be. A track like “Caught in a Dream” clocks in at nearly nine minutes but there is only enough material within it for a four a five minute piece at most, leading to the overuse of choruses and verses. Quite honestly, I can’t imagine how these tracks got out of the studio in the gluttonous form they currently hold. This doesn’t make the album bad per say, but someone had to notice these songs were overextended and the musical version of a muffin top.

As it turns out, someone did. Four years after its initial release, Pagan’s Mind would give Infinity Divine give a significant facelift. Unfortunately, while the songs were trimmed down and remastered, Pagan’s Mind would go a bit too far in their restoration efforts. Where the previously mentioned improvements were no-brainers, re-recording the vocals would prove rather pointless and somewhat detrimental in that listeners were probably use to the inflection key lines had back in the 2000 recording. I can’t say this totally botches the 2004 re-issue of Infinity Divine, but it does make it less attractive and more-or-less disallows it to pull ahead of the original as does nuking “Moonlight Pact” out of existence for a King Diamond cover. The re-recorded version of “Embracing Fear” helps make up for it, but in the end which version the listener is more likely to enjoy is a toss-up.

CONCLUSION:

Given the various misgivings above, it should come as no surprise that when it comes to the two versions of Infinity Divine, I cast my ballot for the original. Both recordings have their own flaws, but as silly as it sounds the vocals end up being the deciding factor and overshadows the positive effect the various edits have on the album. Additionally, while I can’t imagine passing up tracks like “Caught in a Dream,” “Angels Serenity,” “King's Quest” and “Twilight Arise,” Infinity Divine has a heck of a time stacking up against anything that follows it. That’s forgivable given it’s a debut album, but this ultimately puts it in league of its own – a situation that’s not exactly favorable. Given the original pressing is somewhat difficult to locate these days I can only recommend the album to those with an interest in the band or those willing to take a gamble.

Overall Score: 6/10

Final Fantasy II: 20th Anniversary Edition (PSP)

"FFII can be an enjoyable experience, but it's still extremely flawed"

Once one of the "forbidden treasures" never launched outside of its port of origin, Final Fantasy II - the real Final Fantasy II - first saw daylight in the west as part of the 2003 Origins package. That version, which is closer to the original than what's presented here, showed everyone (outside those who hadn't been lured into checking out fan translated ROM images of it years earlier) why it was skipped over: busted mechanics. The tangled web of changes within Final Fantasy II come from another, less acclaimed, series - the SaGa series.

Much like SaGa Frontier, gone are the concepts of experience and levels. This alone doesn't make the game bad. Despite the bashing SaGa Frontier took (and continues to take) the general fact is that its character development system wasn't really broken per say, or as broken as some other things in that game were. The problem with Final Fantasy II is that it is broken, and couldn't be fixed unless you rebuilt it from the ground up.

As many know, in the original version - and the "faithful" PS1 remaster - there where many tricks the player could employ to fool the computer into giving their characters dramatic stat boosts. There was the "select/cancel" trick that, due to poor/selective programming, could rack up massive spell usage and weapon levels. That particular loophole was abolished in the Dawn of Souls port, but there are those that remain. The classic, "smack myself around for HP" trick still works, as does the old "spam magic on myself for MP cause my characters are more durable targets than the enemies are" trick. The loss and retention of these shortcuts throughout the various versions has made for an interesting story, but once one realizes that many of Final Fantasy II's gameplay systems still rely on the employment of these shortcuts, red flags are eventually raised.

While the abolishment of the select/cancel trick disallows one to cheaply power level their weapon levels, it also raises questions on how or when these levels rise. For example, lets say Firion's skill with a sword is currently at two, and it stays at a two (no increases on the meter) even though your attacking wave after wave of enemies. All of a sudden you enter a new area and it starts to rise again. Wha? What invisible force governs the growth of this particular statistic? Change in environment, given events? Granted, it's always in balance and there never really a point where you're underpowered in this respect but why is there an invisible wall here? Compounding this are issues with certain weapon classes (axes) having adequately powered weapons available at certain times.

The weapon leveling system may have been reigned in, but the spell casting system is as short-sighted as ever. First of all, we ditched the lame item limit (somewhat) so why can't we ditch the sixteen spell limit considering every version of FFII since Dawn of Souls has been less strict than the last. Okay, so you don't exactly need every spell. You don't even need half of them. Not even one fourth? It's this that makes my next argument seem kind of fickle, but without the select/cancel trick, getting spells to level sixteen is a rough trek. And quite honestly, there is no way a casting of Bolt should cost as much as a casting of Ultima at the same level. Don't even get me started on the boneheaded way the damage for this aforementioned "ultimate spell" is calculated - you need a truly ultimate character to make it even worth casting, which is downright silly when the game's story places so much emphasis on obtaining it. In other words, just use the "legendary" Blood Sword on the bosses again.

However, Final Fantasy II starts to look much better once you look beyond its ever-flawed mechanics. Generally speaking, while the story isn't of a blockbuster nature, the fight against a malevolent empire is a nice, primitive precursor to Final Fantasy VI. It's also nice to see that the player's characters have lines this time around and don't really fit into the "silent protagonist" mold the four warriors of light did in the original. Sonically, Nobuo Uematsu's score taps into the game's overarching militaristic theme, the contrast between the "Rebel Army Theme" and the "Imperial Army Theme" being the crowning achievement that pulls everything together.

As for extras, Final Fantasy II outdoes Final Fantasy's Anniversary Edition by a mile. The clever (yet somewhat flawed and ill-explained premise of) Rebirth of Souls reappears from the GBA, and the Arcane Labyrinth puts the game's password/ask system to clever use even though it's still just another lame excuse to extend replay value.

CONCLUSION:

Despite all the complaints in the first five paragraphs, I think I enjoyed playing through Final Fantasy II more this time around than I did in 2003 on the Origins package. This doesn't exactly translate into a ringing endorsement, as the game requires a bit of finesse until you get your party on their feet and make peace with the games various flaws, but you could certainly do worse. There is always something worse....

Overall Score: 6/10

Final Fantasy: 20th Anniversary Edition (PSP)

"Final Fantasy, drown in mediocre extras"

Final Fantasy. It's a name that once held a significant amount of clout. In recent years, or more accurately, ever since Squaresoft and Enix merged after the disaster that was Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, "enhanced" ports of previously successful entries have come down the pike in the numbers one expects from in vitro fertilization. As disgusting as this cow-milking practice has become, and as disgusting as it is that I'm probably going to shell out for the sixth version of Final Fantasy IV in the Final Fantasy IV Complete Collection come April, I still like the original Final Fantasy despite the fact it lacks a robust storyline. Given that, I was more than willing to enlist for the first and most faithful recreation of the game on the PS1, but beyond that release the core game has been fitted with so many ill-fated additions that it's diluted what was a simple yet enjoyable experience. So, in the spirit of debate, let's look at the three main segments that make up Final Fantasy's 20th Anniversary Edition.

~ Final Fantasy: The Main Course ~

The core of the experience that emulates the original adventure on the NES, one will find that many liberties have been taken since Final Fantasy Origins. Most of them aren't too groundbreaking: the high resolution graphics are nice to look at even thought there wasn't really anything wrong with how the game was presented on the PS1 and GBA; the heightened accuracy of attacks at the beginning of the quest is quite helpful as are the additional commands available during combat (like Defend) that weren't originally there. Unfortunately, it's one of the most welcome changes, the ditching of casting system for mages that puts everything into jeopardy by absolutely destroying the game's balance. Now, most will jest at the idea of the original Final Fantasy being balanced, especially when the spell casting units where as handicapped as they were, but in its own, odd-ball way, it was. Here, there is no real worry about getting through a dungeon in one piece because your party has so many options, which destroys the last bit of challenge the title had.

~ Soul of Chaos: A Lesson in Monotony ~

A set of four optional dungeons that were first featured in the GBA Dawn of Souls package, Soul of Chaos represents some of the most insipid concepts that can be used to artificially inflate a game's lifespan. These multilevel dungeons throw their pre-programmed floors at you in random order, and the treasures on each floor are randomly selected from a pool specific to that floor. This means you won't find everything they have to offer in one play through. Boss floors, filled with classic bosses that are just a sad way of siphoning off past ideas, are set up so you can only take on one before you are forced to advance or leave. The mostly static (and weak) cast of enemies you encounter in random encounters will chip away at your enthusiasm faster than a rabbit nibbling away at a carrot as the super-powered bosses prove the game's battle system isn't really built for challenging battles.

~ Labyrinth of Time: It Gets Worse ~

As much as the Soul of Chaos dungeons remind me of terrible dungeons like Wild Arms 3's Abyss or Star Ocean 3's Sphere Company, The Labyrinth of Time shows up to prove things can get even messier. Once again, the levels are thrown at you in a random level, but this time the focus is mostly on non-combative challenges like memory games. This would be fine on its own, but we're not done. Each level requires you to sacrifice abilities for "time" to keep the "miasma" at bay. Miasma basically acts like a poison that saps away at you health and magic and increases enemy encounters until you leave the area. The whole experience is as fun as sounds. On top of that, you'll need to pass and fail challenges in a handful of certain patterns to encounter the various versions of the game's hardest boss. Oh, goody-goody gumdrops!

~ The Conclusion: Finally ~

Much like the evil miasma itself, Final Fantasy on the PSP starts out great until the extras corrode your soul from the inside out. Of course, just looking at the Square Enix logo (and what it's come to represent) is enough to do that, so you don't really need to subject yourself to the torture within this UMD to experience that. Still, I would honestly recommend the PS1 Origins package, Dawn of Souls and the much more deserving Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions over this 20th Anniversary cash-in. It's pretty to look at, but that's about it.

Overall Score: 6/10

Wild Arms Alter code: F Original Score

The idea behind Wild Arms Alter code:F reminds me of the Star Wars special edition. In what seems to be a great idea - taking solid, successful source material and touching it up - is a risky proposition. Regardless of the medium involved history has shown that revivals are a crapshoot if anything; the old adage “the original was better” didn’t just appear overnight or for no reason. Looking back at Star Wars' updated ventures, I can remember questioning my friend's reaction over Greedo’s itchy trigger finger in A New Hope. In not being a hardcore fan, I couldn’t relate as to why this change brought about such wrath. However, after reflecting on the similar nature of Alter code:F and my qualms concerning it, who am I to judge?

Just like anything that receives a fresh coat of paint, Alter code:F isn’t invulnerable to scorn or the plethora of inevitable comparisons to that which it originates. Sure, I could sit here and pretend not to have knowledge of original score, hiding my fondness for it by avoiding any and all association but the result would hardly be honest. So while this review is already doomed to become an old versus new rant, hopefully such comparisons will only serve to describe the strengths and deficiencies contained within.

Alter code:F wastes no time in posing questions, starting things with off the title theme rather than the opening theme. This is a rather insignificant issue in the grand scheme of things, but why not open the score with “To the End of the Wilderness,” a strong, central theme most listeners immediately identify as a series hallmark? Herein lies the effort of Alter code:F to be seen as more than a remake; it’s a novel idea that isn’t without merit, but why fight against such a common preconception? Such intent can be seen throughout the game where there seems to be a constant strain to make more out of past ideas despite their former success. The result can be heard in tracks like “Companions” that hopelessly meander on in their search for a sense of being.

Beyond its transparent attempt to separate itself from its origins while still firmly embracing them, the other problem that haunts the score is the persistence of time. This isn’t referring to how well Naruke’s compositions stand eight years later but rather how well they translate given the advancements in technology. With advancement comes pressure to use more mature samples. Evolution isn’t a bad thing in and of itself, but throwing around phrases like "cleaner" and "more precise" doesn’t automatically equal out to a better piece of video game music. Unfortunately, the necessity of staying on top of technology comes at a price.

It’s a common belief that a person can receive the same amount of enjoyment from an 8-bit chip tune that they can recieve from a full-featured orchestral piece. Part of why this is possible is due to the underlying beauty that can be found in simplicity. Despite not being at the 8-bit level, this “beauty of simplicity” was one of the elements the original Wild Arms had in its favor; it was hardly the antithesis of composition but it was easy to access and appreciate. This kind of accessibility is lost to a certain degree in Alter code:F due to the power and thickness of the instruments. Take pivotal tracks like “Boy of Hope” and “Alone the World” for example. That rustic, western feel may be enhanced but it comes at the cost of emotional context. There are numerous tracks guilty of the same thing - especially when it comes to the darker numbers - but it’s hardly the one-way street I'm making out to be. Some tracks like “Malduke” greatly benefit from the extra “oomph” the instruments provide, transforming what was an interesting yet flaccid dungeon theme into a piece with some preverbal bite.

One of the more debatable changes in Alter code:F is Naruke giving each Quarter Knight his or her own battle theme. Lady Harken’s “Murdering Princess” is the best example of how well this works, painting the picture of a character with a tragic, hidden fate. In retrospect however, in crafting battle themes for each specific villain, a important sense of unity is lost. While they usually attacked on a one-by-one basis, the Metal Demons were a unified front that represented a single, formable threat. Unlike these individual tracks, the original, universal Metal Demon battle theme from 1996 – “Power Fighter” - capitalized on this and captured something these tracks can't. So, where is that fear-provoking, unifying powerhouse in Alter code:F? Check out “Ka Dingel” on disc four for the disappointing answer.

As much time as I’ve spent deciphering Alter code:F’s shortcomings, you may be wondering when we're going to get to what went right. Ironically, like a cosmic slap in the face, it’s the newer pieces that make the album worth owning. This isn’t to say that there aren’t any good renditions of classic pieces - I seriously can’t get enough of “The Power that Supports the World” - but its new tracks like “Sense of Solidarity,” and “Determination, and then…” that remind one of why they fell in love with Naruke’s music in the first place. While it is unfair to pit the old against the new when one considers the newer pieces aren’t going to be subjected to the same level of scrutiny, these are kinds of things these scores leave themselves open to.

CONCLUSION:

After reading this, most will probably think I look down at Alter code:F with distain when compared to the original. I won’t deny the various misgivings outlined above, but I will say that Naruke’s work was one of the better aspects of the 2004 remake, a remake that failed to recapture the spirit of the original in almost every other category. Those who enjoy Naruke’s PlayStation Wild Arms entries but find her work for Wild Arms 3 a bit too textured for their taste will find that Alter code:F is an enjoyable visit to a simpler time despite it’s effort to be more than it really is.

Overall Score: 7/10

Lacuna Coil (1999) In a Reverie

"Comawhat?"

When it comes to music, I always get a kick out of albums that are dubbed by the masses as a "breakthrough album." Quite often, it turns out the band in question was churning out great music well before the album that made them famous dropped. For example, while most will claim Edguy's Mandrake was responsible for bringing the band the success it deserved, it's insanely hollow when compared to a previous release like Vain Glory Opera. So where do Lacuna Coil's In a Reverie and Comalies fall in such a picture?

As important as Comalies was in forging the Lacuna Coil brand, I still see it as an overrated piece of work that lacks any real variety. While it was far from shallow, songs could easily bleed into one another and at times I could barely tell what track I was on. Such a problem exists on practically every album the band has put out and exists due to the dynamic of the band's sound and vocal approach, yet it doesn't crop up to such a ridiculous degree on In a Reverie. Most of the songs, save for "Stately Lover," "Reverie" and "Veins of Glass" have their own identity and give the album the variety Lacuna Coil albums desperately need. I can't think of another track from the band's catalog that offers an experience quite like "My Wings" and that's really saying something. Even "To Myself I Turned" and "Falling Again" feel like separate entities despite the near-identical temperment.

CONCLUSION:

It's this kind of delicious irony that sets In a Reverie well beyond its predecessors. Debut albums should not be this good and effortlessly outline the shortcomings of their eventual follow-ups, yet the album does just that and does it with an unapologetic flair. You can have your Unleashed Memories, Comalies and Karmacode, to me there is only a Reverie.

Overall Score: 8/10

Cirrus (1998) Back on a Mission

"There's one scrumptious anomaly here..."

Given my usual diet of rock and heavy metal records, one may question why I'd be interested or even poke my head into the Big Beat/Breakbeat quadrant of music. Well, to be honest, it really wasn't a choice per say, but rather a chance encounter that introduced me to Cirrus' music.

So, how would someone not interested in the genre be exposed to it? Licensed music, or more specifically licensed music within a video game. Some may remember the popularity of the Twisted Metal games during the early years of the original PlayStation. The first two games used original music but this changed when Sony switched development teams (to the distain of many) for the third and fourth games. These games contained music from several heavy metal outfits, most notably White Zombie/Rob Zombie. So where does Cirrus come into play? The tenth track on this album - "Times Running Out" - plays in the second stage (Neon City) of Twisted Metal 4.

While I don't dabble in video games as much as I use to despite the fact it's still a large part of my identity, why would anyone be so concerned about a piece of music used in a twelve year old video game? I've always enjoyed video game music and how it coincides with the action on the screen. This usually doesn't apply when a game opts for licensed music, but the Twisted Metal sequels found a nice balance with this and the tracks selected really helped enhance the wreck loose automobile combat. "Times Running Out" really nails this feeling in the dark cityscape it plays in, but what about the rest of the album? What does it offer?

Like a little devil wringing his hands with evil grin, the rest of the album has little to do with this track. I was hoping to hear some similar pieces or pieces that contained the same architecture and sound but no. "Times Running Out" is a true anomaly and definitely feels tacked on to the end of the album. I can't say the rest of the album is bad, but it is certainly isn't what I'm looking for. It's a mystery as to why this song feels so full, almost as if a full band was behind it and the rest are more reminiscent of what would expect from a trace/techno duo. The biggest disappointment has to be the fact there are no lyrics in the booklet; I was dying to find out what they were singing about only to find out I will never know.

CONCLUSION:

If anything, Back on a Mission is a reminder that disappointment is an essential part of discovery and that misleading anomalies exist in the world of music as well. That said I've no problem taking that one moment of magic and adding to the vast well of music I keep on hand and leaving the rest to its own devices.

Overall Score: 4/10

Altaria (2007) Divine Invitation

"Compilation albums like this always end up being messy mish mashes..."

A compilation born out of fact that some where having trouble finding the band's first two releases in the years following their release, Divine Invitation presents the “best five” tracks from 2003’s Invitation and 2004’s Divinity, backs them the band's original demos and two new recordings featuring the band’s latest vocalist. As one would expect with the "best of" section, the word "best" basically means "crapshoot." The winners and losers aren’t easy to discern from a wayward album like Invitation and this is reflected in the picks from that album. There is a lot less at stake with the selections from Divinity given that album is a lot more homogeneous from a conceptual and architectural standpoint, but these tracks will only make one hunger for the full album. While sparking an interest in the material that lies beyond this compilation is a good thing, it defeats the original purpose of this compilation which is to act in lieu of the full albums. That’s bad news for this record but good news for the band and music in general.

Beyond the haphazard selection that presides over the first section of the album, tracks eleven and twelve present one with a glimpse of the future and vocalist Marco Luponero. In the general sense these tracks are more rock oriented than the European metal-flavored pieces that open the album and act as a prelude to what listeners can expect if they pick up the band’s 2009 release Unholy. The final portion of the disc will most likely only interest the most devout of fans and is interesting and noteworthy for all the wrong reasons. Some of the demos presented (the ones from 2002) are actually better than the finished products found on Invitation. For example, check out "Unicorn (2002 Demo)" and then check out the version that falls earlier on the album. Did they really need to bog down a song to such a point?

CONCLUSION:

Containing demos that are often better than the finished product, a hit-and-miss "best of" selection and two, somewhat skimpy additions, I can't really suggest "Divine Invitation" as a starting point for new Altaria listeners. This isn’t saying the album can’t act as a starting point, it’s just the album isn’t going to appease those that know and eventually experience what lies beyond it on the full length releases.

Overall Score: 6/10

Mega Man: Dr.Wily's Revenge (GB)

"Nice game, but like the NES original it isn't without it's flaws"

Love it or hate it, Mega Man games grow like leaves on trees. Given the vast amount of success Mega Man enjoyed during the early years of the NES, it was only natural that some version of the game would end up on Nintendo's portable, gray brick. Mega Man: Dr.Wily's Revenge (known as Rockman World in Japan) would mark the beginning of yet another series of titles for the blue bomber, one of the first Capcom would outsource rather than develop internally.

Given that this title is often referred to as "Mega Man" given the lack of subtitle on the title screen, the first thing most people do is compare this to the 1987 original. This makes since the game borrows from that game, presenting four of its six robot masters. While Cut Man, Elec Man, Ice Man and Fire Man reappear in all their glory, everything else is new, or rather a mix of things from Mega Man and Mega Man 2. For example, while Elec Man's level will remind one of the area they played through on the NES, it's crossed with elements that were used Air Man's level. It's an interesting hybrid to be sure, but the allure can be cut short facing your first robot master without the aid of the correct weapon.

Annoying as that is, things get back on track pretty quickly. The damage incurred from robot master weapons and enemies is much more balanced in this rendition, so you won't get blown away as quickly. Unfortunately, trouble again rears its ugly head during the game's concluding levels. While the first Wily level can be tough with its five concluding battles, nothing compares to the last. I love a challenge as much as the next guy but the final level is too big for it britches and throws everything it can at the player. As one can imagine, this puts quite the damper on the proceedings but there are other areas of the game that help make up for it like the excellent soundtrack. Seriously, I can't be the only one who blares Cut Man and Fire Man's theme from the back of my car, can I?

CONCLUSION:

Regardless of my weakness for delectable 8-bit chiptunes, Mega Man: Dr.Wily's Revenge stands as a solid, portable take of the Mega Man we all know and love. I wish the concluding levels of the game were a little more forgiving than they currently are but I can think of games that are guilty of far more. Still, take the above a grain of salt, because the game is definitely capable of making one grind their teeth no matter how one sugarcoats it.

Overall Score: 7/10

Altaria (2009) Unholy

"I thought the joke was on Altaria; turns out it was on me..."

Born out of the massive upheaval in leaving the Metal Heaven label, Unholy finds the new Altaria ditching the keyboards and the European trappings Divinity and The Fallen Empire were drenched in. In its place we have an 80's rock sound that is, quite literally, embarrassing in this day and age. I couldn't stop laughing during my first listen through the album. As one can imagine, a song like "Steal Your Thunder" (which sounds like something Diamond Dave would have performed) is as silly as it sounds.

As outdated as it is (let's be honest) it starts to click after a few listens, try as you might to reject and ignore it. You know you shouldn't like it, and there are other bands and albums (like 2004's Divinity) worthy of the attention, but it pulls you in with a Star Wars-esque tractor beam regardless. This brings me to a quote in the booklet by vocalist Marco Lupenero, which tells one they're an idiot if they don't like this album. Hmmm... well, I think liking this album makes me an idiot, so I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if don't, eh? This won't stop me from enjoying a crunchy tune like "The Lake" or anything, but it definately makes me question the experience at hand.

CONCLUSION:

Unholy is a classic example of something that's crafted so it can't fail yet it can't really succeed. I guess for some that's fine, but for a band that was somewhat lost in the vast sea of European metal acts, the approach and path taken here is no less treacherous or shorter. That said, one has to wonder if the eventual follow-up can skirt by with an identical scheme. Part of me kind of hopes not.

Overall Score: 7/10

Altaria (2004) Divinity

"I was wrong, may the divine forgive me..."

In previous reviews, I've often referred to Divinity as Altaria's weakest album. It turns out I was wrong. After purchasing 2007’s "Divine Invitation" and listening to the selections from Divinity on it, I realized this album had a lot more to offer (e.g. Stain on the Switchblade) than I remembered. I can't even begin to explain or understand how songs like "Try to Remember," "Prophet of Pestilence," "Unchain the Rain," "Darkened Highlight" and "Final Warning" failed to catch my ear back then. Even better, once I got the full album I found those songs where just the tip of the iceberg when "Discovery," "Falling Again," and "Divine" revealed themselves as the album's impressive core. "Divine" really deserves a nod for being a title track that's a bit more unusual than most.

Still, but what puts Divinity above and beyond its predecessor and successor is the fact it feels like a concise whole. The dark, grungy sound of the guitar works in tandem with the lighthearted synthesizers to create an intriguing mix. As expected, there are a few small hiccups along the way: "Will to Live" is the weakest cut with its tongue-in-check message and "Stain on the Switchblade" is an out-of-place anomaly which is nowhere as appealing as it was years ago. Additionally, "Haven" tries to wedge a ballad like number in an experience that doesn't really need one, but these problems are easy to overlook when the rest of the album works as well as it does.

Divinity also finds strength in its lyrics. There’s a general power metal cliché here and there, but the writing is simply more streamlined than it was on Invitation or the 2006 follow-up The Fallen Empire. In other words, you won't find those awkward, lyrical fragments here or at least to the same degree.

CONCLUSION:

While I may not be a fan of the past coming back and biting me in the... nether regions, Divinity proves there can be pleasant surprises to uncover in one's past. It's a downer it took me so long to truly discover what was here, but it's another solid album I'm more than happy to add to my collection.

Overall Score: 9/10

Ozzy Osbourne (1986) The Ultimate Sin

"There are some things about The Ultimate Sin that make no sense"

In the world of music there are several things I don't understand. At the top of the list lies Ozzy Osbourne and that business manager wife of his. Ozzy has shown more disrespect towards his back catalog of music than any other musician I can think of in order to save a few measly dollars. While this won't stop me from enjoying the tracks and albums I like, the stories behind re-recording parts of classic albums like Blizzard of Ozz are just ugly. Just as ugly is almost acting as if The Ultimate Sin and "Shot in the Dark" never existed in the first place.

Now don't get me wrong, The Ultimate Sin is far from a five star album. Like a lot of people, my main concern was obtaining a copy of Shot in the Dark on a CD since you can't find it on any other album. With that mission accomplished, I thought the story was over. Far from it. Needless to say I was surprised how the rest of the album managed to sneak up on me, from the Cold War inspired "Thank God for the Bomb" to welcoming beat of "Secret Loser" there is much more to be discovered here. In fact, "Secret Loser" pretty much sums up the situation this album is in considering it was passed up for re-release and re-mastering in 2002.

One can only wonder why such a worthy pit stop would be deleted from Osbourne's catalog. Most people - myself included at one point - erroneously thought The Ultimate Sin was shelved because of a royalties dispute between Osborune and Phil Soussan. This doesn't seem to be the case since the last legal dispute between the two was settled back in the 1990's. So what's the deal? Hopefully, with Ozzy's back catalog being re-released again this album with get another look by the big wigs that ultimately make the decisions. Maybe they'll make the right choice this time and restore this discarded piece of history. Still, I'm not counting on it.

CONCLUSION:

Anyway, as was said before, I can't give The Ultimate Sin a ten out of ten. The album is enjoyable and gives according to how much the listener is willing to put into it but it's still not a top of the line release. Such truths aside, the album definitely deserves much more credit than it seems to receive from its creator and can easily find a place in any music lover’s collection.

Overall Score: 7/10

Revolution Renaissance (2008) New Era

"Despite a personal, waning interest in the genre, New Era surprisingly shines through"

While one will likely question the validity of such a claim, "New Era" is an anomaly among the usual offerings from the typical list of Euro-flavored suspects, even though it really isn't. Point blank, there is nothing "revolutionary" here, nor is it a "renaissance" of any kind, and, as cutthroat as it might seem for the opening of a review, "New Era" channels a lot of previous Stratovarius material beyond the typical nuances of the sound. For example, the solo in "Heroes" is lifted right out of 1995's "Against the Wind" and "Born Upon the Cross" is essentially a slowed down version of 2003's "Elements."

Yet, as odd as odd as it may seem, even with these kind of things staring me right in the face as I listen, and falling out of love with some of Stratovarius' previous material over the last few years, it doesn't make me angry. It doesn't scream "rehash" or "lazy" at the top of its lungs like the similar occurrences on Stratovarius' "Polaris" does. The reason behind this has a lot to do with the last, self titled Stratovarius album released in 2005. Looking back and listening to that album, and taking Tolkki's dislike of the album and band's turmoil into account, it's not hard to look beyond that music and see that the band was, quite literally, a mess, miserable and together mainly out the legal implications they would have faced if they didn't reconcile. Simply put, it was an album that was far from honest even though I have to admit I liked the Dreamspace-esque darkness that dominated some of its songs.

On the other hand, "New Era" does sound honest. Listening to it, it sounds as if Tolkki and his trio of vocalist actually enjoyed making this album instead of just aiming to get something out there to avoid breaching a contract. Again, if Kotipelto (a vocalist who's voice is becoming less and less a personal favorite) sang these songs as originally planned, this would probably just be another, near soulless Stratovarius album, but the tri-fecta of singers borrowed from other outfits (Edguy, ex-Helloween, and Thunderstone) is much more than the gimmick it initially appears to be. Can't imagine anyone other than Kiske singing "Last Night on Earth or "Revolution Renaissance," the best title cut Tolkki has written in years despite the obvious and obligatory cheese. The same applies to the other vocalist and their efforts and are, and much like Olaf Hayer's work for Luca Turilli's solo works, are easily half the reason I've stuck with the album as long as I have, which is saying a lot when the newest albums by HammerFall and Gamma Ray fail to stick even when they do offer something different.

CONCLUSION:

In the end, there isn't anything special about "New Era" - especially from a technical point of view. Still, even though it's easy to acknowledge and accept this, the album (especially as a whole) does kind of feel special in some abstract, intangible way.

Overall Score: 8/10

Mega Man X3 (SNES)

"A solid sequel that is interesting for all the wrong reasons"

Third time's the charm. Like most sayings, it's a classic that we use every now and then. The only things that are for certain are death, taxes, and sequels. There's always a sequel, even if it's unjustified. All jesting aside, it may surprise some to know that Mega Man X3 was the sequel that almost never was....

Gazing upon a clipping saved from an old issue of Nintendo power (Volume 78), Greg Ballard, President of Capcom USA, proudly announces the canceled cancellation of Mega Man X3, claiming "Mega Man X3 represents Capcom's commitment to the Super NES... and Mega Man's millions of fans." Despite how tongue-in-cheek that statement sounds now with eight plus games in the series, I can remember how blasphemous the thought of a canceling a Mega Man game sounded to me back then. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted X3, the closest I ever got to it during my childhood was the time I rented it and I proceeded to tromp through it in a single night. Actually, I take that back, it was more like a handful of hours.

That said, one might say that's a good thing. Why fork over sixty to seventy dollars for a game that offers such a short experience? Point taken, but when you're that young you never think about the longevity of your purchases. Even after that brief experience with the game, Mega Man X3 would remain "the forbidden fruit" for years to come. X3 was "the one that got away." Ironically, that long awaited meeting would come to fruition - thirteen years later. Unfortunately, as most know, a lot can change in thirteen years, and when it comes to this particular series, it has. The rest of the narrative pretty much writes itself; even the most devoted fan can become disillusioned with a whole body of work even if only some of it is bad. Of course, there are times where one can find their own truths within such a quagmire. I think I've discovered and accepted my truths with most of the chapters of this convoluted saga, X3 being no exception. So what is that truth? Mega Man X3 may be somewhat more interesting than some of the other games in the series, but it's interesting for all the wrong reasons.

Unlike Mega Man X and X2, the majority of Mega Man X3 was handled by what Keiji Inafune calls "outsiders." As would be expected, all of the game's artwork and character design may have been handled internally, but many other elements where not. Mega Man X3's music, for example, was handled by an outside group called the Minakuchi Engineering Staff. That's not exactly the most revealing piece of information. However, years later, the actual employee (of the Minakuchi Engineering Staff) responsible for the music would be revealed: Kinuyo Yamashita. As it turns out, Yamashita helped compose music of the original Castlevania during her time with Konami, and such a rock-laden approach can be heard here.

So what does Kinuyo's score have to do with the core experience at the heart of X3? Lots. While I'll admit she hits (Gravity Beetle, Toxic Seahorse) as much as she misses (opening intro, capsule theme), the rough texture of her pieces parallels that abstract "edginess" and wreck loose feel that first took hold in Mega Man X2 but was absent from the "clean" original. Once again, there is a real sense of danger to the proceedings that isn't related the game's difficulty level but is provided by unavoidable, single-entry characters like Bit and Byte (the Nightmare Police), not series mainstays like Sigma and Vile. Also returning from X2 is the concept of cause and effect. Accomplishing certain feats earlier on (mostly defeating or destroying certain adversaries) changes how some things unfold in the second half of the game. It's nothing truly dramatic, a different boss fight or two, or a slightly different ending, but it adds a bit of replay value where it is sorely needed. The rest of the game plays out as one would expect, not broken but not inspiring.

CONCLUSION:

Far from the missing crowning jewel I billed it as in my adolescence this one is purely for the fans. More of the same usually isn't a bad thing when it comes to Mega Man, but then it's nothing to get excited about either. That said, I have to cast my vote for the SNES original when compared to the CD-based version released in the Mega Man X Collection. The full-motion videos are nice, but the remixed music simply doesn't gel with graphics from a previous generation. I'm glad that Mega Man X3 managed to find it's way off the drawing board, but in all honesty, it's only because it's the stepping stone that made the series fourth (and perhaps best) installment possible.

Overall Score: 7/10

Mega Man X2 (SNES)

"A truly standard sequel. Nothing more, nothing less...."

1995, maps in the latest Nintendo Power, sixth grade, an upcoming birthday, a short-lived neighborhood rental store, a sleepover party, a seventy dollar price tag and a friend's skull smashed into my living room floor by another guest. The amount of memories triggered by the mere mention of Mega Man X2 is simply staggering. In April of 1995 all I could think about was getting my hands on this cart, continuing the battle against the malicious Mavericks.

Looking back, I can't help but wish I could travel back in time and recapture that magic, that unique combination of patience, desire and blissful ignorance that defines childhood. That ability to not overanalyze anything - and I mean anything - at all. Unfortunately, those days don't last and retrospect and insight eventually crash the party. As much as I enjoyed (and still enjoy) the SNES, I can't say I miss paying ridiculous prices for cartridge based games, although I can certainly question what I was thinking when I shelled out seventy bones for Mega Man X2.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't a case of buyer's remorse that's been festering for fifteen years, but in knowing what I know now, that X2 is the definition of a standard sequel, I can't help but think that money could have been spent on a more captivating gaming experience. Given how wise a majority of a child's purchases are however, that may be too much to expect of my younger self. Still, with the forethought of the place the game once held in my personal hierarchy, what makes X2 worth hanging onto? The answer is rather surprising....

Gameplay wise, Mega Man X2 is pretty much identical to its predecessor: progress through mostly liner stages collecting heart tanks, sub tanks, and cleverly hidden capsules while maintaining one's health on the way to the area's quote unquote boss. Beat the boss and take their weapon; use those acquired weapons to take advantage of enemy weaknesses in future encounters. After defeating the grunts, take down the kingpin (gee, I wonder who THAT could be?) and save the day.

Okay, so it's a bit more fun than my slapdash explanation is making it sound, but in general X2 only adds a few new wrinkles to what players experienced in the original. The most important of these is the introduction of a group of three Mavericks (it was originally meant to be four but the female member was scraped due to the limits of the Cx4, as was Violen's second form) that call themselves the "X-Hunters." Eventually, the player learns the "unification" is just a fancy term for stealing Zero's parts and slapping him back together to get his "revenge" on you for "letting him die." Depending on whether or not X hunts down and defeats the X-Hunters for Zero's "parts" during the main eight stages of the game, there may or may not be an extra boss in the final level of the game that accounts for the game's two possible scenarios.

Black and white as that may seem, the X-Hunters prove to be much more than the key to the game's outcome. While I'll admit I'm not exactly goo-goo gaga over these characters themselves, they do add an element that was missing from the original Mega Man X. That element is danger. Looking back at certain Mavericks in that title, some of them hardly left me quaking in my boots, and in a way that dampened the effect certain moments in that game had on me. This really isn't the case in Mega Man X2, where there is a strange sense of abstract edginess, even dirtiness to everything that fights against the clean feel of the original. Much like the opening cinematic says, "a real war is about to begin" and the kid gloves are off. Even Yuki Iwai's peculiar musical score plays into it as does the immediate sequel Mega Man X3.

As impressive as it is for the series to change it's temperament without utilizing major changes in presentation or game play, the effect can only go so far. Additionally, while I wouldn't want to change the game from its final form, I do have to question the usage of the Cx4 chip and the sacrifices made to utilize it. Mega Man X2 probably would have found a wider audience with a lower retail price and larger print run, something the Cx4 prohibited, and is the reason why carts still fetch a decent amount of cash on the secondary market. Of course, today's prices are about half of what the game went for originally, but the game hasn't held its value for the right reasons.

CONCLUSION:

Taking in all the above into consideration, Mega Man X2 on the SNES is mainly geared towards the true blue and perhaps slightly disillusioned Mega Man fan. Those with a mild interest should steer clear of procuring the actual cart and just find a copy of The Mega Man X Collection for the Gamecube or PlayStation 2. As for this Mega Man fan, while I'm glad I've managed to retain my copy throughout all these years despite my decaying faith in the series, it's far from the trophy I once considered it.

Overall Score: 7/10

Mega Man X (SNES)

"An excellent start to a series that would eventually drown in its own excrement"

Relationships are a peculiar thing. Much like people, relationships grow, die and cause an unbelievable amount of strife from time to time. It's this triangle of emotions that describes my relationship with Capcom's long running Mega Man X series. Love, hate, I could go on and on for hours why one game is great and another is terrible, why Capcom owes its fan base the sincerest of apologies, and how disillusioned the whole mess has left me. But then I'm sure I don't stand alone. Still, given why I'm here and what entry we're talking about, why bring up the long, huge, gargantuan list of transgressions that would rear their ugly heads in the future.

All the drama aside, the original Mega Man X was all about new possibilities. A new console, a new Mega Man in a different time. A more serious time. Gone is the artwork that made the original series look cute and cuddly, in comes a sobering wave of stone and steel. Items like Heart Tanks and Capsules emulate the basic concept of leveling up like an RPG. The music takes on its iconic, hard-rock approach early on. A powerful adversary, one without a shred of morality or decency, arises unsuspectingly from the forces of good. It's these things and more that define and drive Mega Man X forward.

First of all, let's talk about the additions to the game play. Much like the original Mega Man, X has his own version of the Mega Buster called the X-Buster, which can (initially) charge to two distinct levels. Beyond basic weaponry (and the story-based difference between Mega Man and Mega Man X) X has a few extra tricks up his sleeve. With the wall climb, no longer does not quite making a jump spell doom for Mega Man. When clinging to a wall, X can kick the wall and boost himself up; doing this in quick succession will allow him to scale the wall. Later on, additional power-ups will allow X to perform a forward dash, more or less replacing the slide introduced in Mega Man 3. Combining jumping and dashing (even when clinging to walls) will allow the player to jump even greater distances. Other power-ups hidden and provided by X's creator add things like an extra charge level to the X-Buster, the charging of acquired enemy weapons, the head butting of specific blocks and even the ability to cut the damage inflicted by enemies in half.

Other changes also encourage player exploration. Unlike past Mega Man titles, the gauge representing the life sustaining energy in X's micro-fusion fuel tank doesn't start out equal to that of your enemies. By finding a Heart Tank, X can permanently add two additional units to his health bar. It's true that this approach somewhat limits what challenges you can tackle at a given moment by eroding the possible orders one can complete the stages in, but in hindsight it makes fighting through the stages and bosses less about attrition and more about strategy and planning. This is what eventually robs the game of most of its challenge. Like most, I can remember when things like the last boss gave me trouble, but now, and even after long periods away from the game, it's nothing to come back to it, beat it on one life and not have to use a single Sub-Tank. Because of this, it’s hard to have even the slightest since of fear when encountering some of the Mavericks. I mean who really quakes in their boots when they fight Chill Penguin? Spark Mandrill may look pretty intimidating but once you have the Shotgun Ice he's barely going to move a muscle unless he's lucky enough not to get frozen. Ironically, he's even easier in Maverick Hunter X where the other bosses are actually a bit more challenging.

Difficulty issues aside, Mega Man X makes up for it in just about every other category. Game play that doesn't abandon or throw away what worked before, additions that subtlety add to the experience and aren't blind attempts to find something that sticks, solid graphics, tight game play, great level design, the level affecting level effect, a story that doesn't slop on the drama to inane ends - you name it's done right.

CONCLUSION:

While it's true Mega Man X doesn't take any significant risks with its game play and presentation, there is little doubt that the light touch Capcom took in "upgrading" Mega Man for the next generation of consoles was the right way to go, and it ultimately results in what is perhaps the best introductory title the franchise has seen. Unfortunately, while one can expect the standard here to be maintained for the next few games, it does nothing to make X and Zero's eventual, backwards slide into video game hell any easier. Regrets aside, the original Mega Man X is suggested playing for anyone interested in the SNES and platforming, while the two immediate sequels are only recommended for die-hard fans.

Overall Score: 9/10

Final Doom (PS1)

“A different kind of fun…”

I have to admit, despite not being a fan of the first person genre, I love Doom. There is something about the exploits of a lonely space marine single-handedly taking on the forces of hell that draws me in and refuses to let go. Still, as enjoyable as Doom and Doom II were, these games generally don't deliver on the challenge front for a seasoned player. While some may consider that a drawback, it was a non-existent problem to me since challenge isn't the most important thing I look for in a game. However, for those that do, they can easily up the ante with Final Doom.

To some, Final Doom for the PlayStation will never be anything more than a haphazard potluck. This port doesn't contain every level from the two thirty-two level PC campaigns nor does it contain every level from the twenty-one level Master Levels expansion. In other words, out of pool of eighty-five possible levels, only thirty make an appearance here. So how does this affect the experience? The answer depends on which episode one's talking about and which levels made the cut.

Things start out with The Master Levels where thirteen of the possible twenty-one levels make up the core of Final Doom. These levels are meant to test one's mettle with relentless enemy attacks and complex level design, something they do quite well. Players will find a level like Vesperas is hard to tackle regardless of what difficulty level their playing on. Still, the real attraction of the master levels beyond the challenge is the fact the player can carry their status and weaponry from level to level. This isn't possible on the PC since the data for each level is its own file, something that was purposely done so each map would be considered its own separate entity by players. Final Doom on the PlayStation proves how unnecessary this was since each level still feels like a separate experience even though they follow one another.

Next up is TNT Evilution, the first of the two Doom II follow-ups presented in the PC version of Final Doom. Taken as a whole, TNT Evilution is an excellent and balanced expansion that just can't make its case with the eleven levels presented here. It could have been better with a better selection of levels, but it's just better to buy a copy of the Doom Collector's Edition for the PC and play it in its entirety. Additionally, while I have nothing against the ambient score whipped up for the PlayStation versions of Doom, I just don't have patience towards it when reflecting back on the wonderful midi-based soundtrack Team TNT created for the PC original.

Last up is Plutonia with six levels. Cruel as it may sound, I'm absolutely thrilled this episode got the short end of the stick. Take the challenge of the Master Levels, throw in every cheap shot and tactic in the book and you've got Plutonia in a nutshell. Challenge quickly eclipses entertainment when it comes to levels like Congo, Ghost Town and Onslaught. That said, if you're really serious about tackling the hardest levels Doom can throw at you, I'd again suggest going the PC route so you can save your progress at will. Regardless, while the levels are still well designed at this point I have no problem billing Plutonia as Doom's weakest and ugliest link.

CONCLUSION:

The shortcomings of its experiences aside, Final Doom is a worthy and refreshingly different follow-up to Doom. At it's simplest level it may be more of the same, but those who immerse themselves in what it has to offer will find it contains a feel all it's own. It's not always fun, and some parts are of more value than others (The Master Levels being the main draw here) but those with a little patience will have no problem in adding this to their collection.

Overall Score: 7/10

Doom (PS1)

"Easily the best 90’s port of the game available, but once you go PC it's hard to come back"

As one of the forefathers of modern-day first person shooters, Doom is a title that needs little introduction. Initially lighting up PC's in 1993 with its presidio 3D worlds and engaging multiplayer, id's hot property would make its appearance on every video game console known to man in the years that followed, even on those with less than suitable hardware. While such proliferation is nothing new, the history and differences between these ports and the original represents an interesting side story in an already engrossing tale. At the top of the 90's ports lies the PlayStation edition, which, despite having to bow to some restrictions of its own, has a little more going for it than most would expect - even fourteen years later.

One of the first things that will strike one with Doom on the PlayStation is the new, ambient soundtrack provided by Aubrey Hodges. Gone is Robert Prince's in-your-face metal-influenced MIDI, which brings up the first real debate to be had with this port: the music. While some will point out the obvious shortcomings of Doom's sound capabilities on the PC, there was a abstract charm to many of Prince's tunes that drove the gameplay forward, making the game feel looser and edgier than it really was. In contrast, Aubrey Hodges' backdrop makes the game feel a lot more methodical and reserved. It's quite remarkable how each set of tunes, music being an element most would classify as a secondary concern, has such a big effect on the world being presented.

Another difference that's apparent early on are the updates to the graphics engine, the employment of “all-new ambient lighting effects.” It's nowhere near as impressive as the back of the box makes it sound since the transitions in light are as rigid as they've always been (which has never been a problem since it has always played into the type of game Doom is) but at the same time you have to laugh at the idea that the graphics have been upgraded, even two years after Doom's first appearance. It's true there's a slightly wider color palette at work here, but once you realize how many compromises have been made to reach such a plateau it means next to nothing. The number of textures a level uses is dramatically lower than the PC and, as a result, the levels don't have the same pop. Not soon after, especially if you dip back into the PC version between PSX run-throughs, you'll start to notice that these more repetitive textures, coupled with the slightly lower screen resolution, makes objects in the distance ripple when moving around. Other graphical changes made to accommodate the hardware revolve around alpha channel blending, making those pesky Specters a little more inconspicuous and altering the look of weaponry when one's under the effects of a blur artifact.

Much more pressing than the above is the editing or complete removal of key levels to maintain a consistent level of performance. While it's not the first level to have changes made to it, the editing of the Containment Area is just down right depressing. This is an extremely entertaining and complex map in its original form but to have it reduced to where it stands here does it no justice. A similar situation reigns over the Spawning Vats, although in its defense the changes (the retexturing, the removal of the ceiling that allows the animated sky from the title screen make an appearance) make it an interesting take on the level. Still, the biggest blow to the level set-up occurs in Doom II and centers on the omission of the Downtown map. This map is instrumental in driving home the story and setting of Doom II and easily eclipses the omission of The Icon of Sin, which, taking in why the above edits where made to begin with, would make the PlayStation choke faster than swallowing an unchewed biscotti.

However, when it comes to the PlayStation and Doom in general, one would honestly think that Sony's new machine could handle a bit more than this. In a general sense, one could say 1996's Final Doom proves that with its psychotic Plutonia and Master Levels. That extra year may have enabled Williams to crank a little more power out of the system, power that could have been used to push these above levels beyond their current configurations. Be that as it may, while Doom may have been pinned as a three-dimensional game when it debuted, most know it's a two-dimensional game at heart. While there have been some excellent 2D games for the PlayStation such as Konami's Castlevania: Symphony of the Night and Capcom's Mega Man X4 that made their debut despite Sony's erroneous - and down right moronic - philosophy of only wanting to publish 3D games to show off the console's hardware, its RAM limitations with such games has been well documented. It's not hard to believe that PlayStation has an easier time with three dimensional games, and given that Doom came out the same year the PlayStation launched, perhaps I'm being a bit harsh considering the games available when a system launches are usually eclipsed by those that appear at the end.

Wrapping up the subject of the levels included in this port, it's the maps presented here that are not present in the PC version that are the main reason to track this version down. The first new level, Hell Gate, is pretty disappointing, presenting a level not unlike the Fortress of Mystery where the main goal is just to kill everything that is thrown at you. Such feelings are quickly reversed when playing through the alternate version of Hell Keep and the last two levels of Doom, Twilight Descends and Threshold of Pain. The layout of the former is especially impressive and deserves to be played by any Doom aficionado as it undoubtedly feels like it should have been part of Doom from day one.

As far as getting around the levels, the PlayStation controller is spot on when it comes to control, making important combat tactics like circle-strafing a breeze compared to the PC. The drawback is the game's age means that analog control is out of the question, and there is little doubt how well such control would work. Other nitpicks revolve around things like the archaic password system. I can see how this could have been useful given that the PlayStation and its accessories weren't as affordable in 1995 as they were later on, but not allowing saves via the memory card is ridiculous. Couple this with how flawed the password system is (one time after messing up a character or two I ended up with 300% health) and it's plain to see while Williams took advantage of some of the more underused features of the PlayStation like the two player link cable, ignoring simple features found in almost every other game was short sighted. Other disappointments revolve around things that are rather superfluous in nature. The removal of the intermission maps, while understandable considering the previously mentioned edits, is bit of a buzz kill as is the removal of the events that take place at the end of Phobos Anomaly, which easily lie amongst the best beginnings/endings in video game history.

CONCLUSION:

Despite its problems, Doom is a blast to play on the PlayStation and excluding the more recent ports of the game found in the Collectors Edition of Doom 3 and Xbox Live, is the best port you'll find. Beyond the system's controller lending itself well to action (which can be replicated on the PC without much trouble) the sole attraction here are the levels that don't appear elsewhere. However, even when one takes this into account, it can be hard justifying such an acquisition, especially when the PC version is – by most accounts – the epitome of id's vision. PlayStation Doom is solid, but certainly not “the best Doom yet!”

Overall Score: 8/10