Monday, September 12, 2011

Cow and Boy

"There's one small hitch..."

When it comes to newspaper comics, it's difficult to explain how my interest came about. For the most part, reading the newspaper was far from a daily ritual until I started working at my current job. Having an hour compared to the half hour lunches of the past, to most it would be no surprise that I'd want some reading material to go along with my cup of coffee. Quaint as that may seem, little did I know I'd find something nestled between the stories of the local paper, something unexpected....

Nowadays it's almost a forgone conclusion for me to check out the latest adventures of Big Nate and Cow & Boy. My attraction to Big Nate is more than obvious, it being a much more sophisticated take on the formula that fuels the ever popular Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, but the reasons behind my enjoyment of Cow and Boy remain elusive. As problematic as that would seem, I don't think I really need a reason to justify it - it just works.

Still, with Big Nate teaming with life through its book releases, I was interested in what I could find for Cow and Boy. That's what leads me to this book and the one thing that holds it back. That thing? Unlike the current strips in the newspaper, Boy is a bit younger in this collection and, while it's a silly argument given that one of the main characters is a talking cow, I have a hard contemplating someone this young tackling concepts this deep. I don't mean this as an insult - I'm sure kids are capable of deep thought - but the fact that Boy seems to be a teenager (or a tween) in newer strips really helps in ironing out this issue.

CONCLUSION:

As silly as that little qualm of mine is, the book delivers on every other front. In all honesty, the only thing I could really ask for is another release. I'm sure I'm not the only one wants a book of newer strips to complement this collection, but it is definitely overdue if it doesn't exist already. Still, eager as I may be to check out the strip during the week, I'm more than willing to uncover what makes Cow and Boy so devilishly alluring.

Overall Score: 8/10

Friday, September 9, 2011

Big Nate: On a Roll

“A decent outing: no more, no less”

A few years ago, newspaper comics were something that didn't concern me. While it's true that we all live inside our own bubble, those hour lunches at work give me a chance to check out the local newspaper when I otherwise wouldn't. It's from these brief moments away from the insanity that is retail that I discovered I had a favorite comic strip, or rather comic strips.

It's really hard to explain how I became attracted to Cow and Boy, but the reasons are all too clear when it comes to Big Nate. Ironically, that reason is hinted at on the cover of these books where Jeff Kinney (author of the Wimpy Kid series) is quoted as being a fan of Big Nate. It's not too hard to see the connection between the two, but it's their differences that are of note and what ultimately make Big Nate superior. Kinney's Greg Huffley is brat and there are times where I absolutely loath his selfish behavior. This is never the case with Nate who, while not immune to blissful ignorance of childhood, at least acts like he's part of the universe and not the sole reason for its being.

As it stands, "On a Roll" is another solid outing in a series I hope to follow to its conclusion. Still, at the same time I can't say this one is a slam dunk like the previous volumes. The best thing I can say about the book is unlike "In a Class by Himself" I didn't see the ending of this one coming from a mile a way, which was a definite buzz kill. This time around, Peirce focuses on Nate's adventures in winning a custom designed skateboard. The overall plot is fine but its focus comes at the expense of character interaction and variety. For example, despite the opening it's not long before Nate's life at school takes a back seat and that's a setting where Big Nate derives some of its biggest laughs.

CONCLUSION:

"On a Roll" isn't without its problems but its way too early to hit the panic button. Whereas Kinney has a real problem brewing with his main character in the Wimpy Kid books, Peirce has a long way to go before he even gets close to such a conundrum.

Overall Score: 7/10

The Angry Beavers: Seasons 1 & 2

“Beaver Fever: Contract It”

Growing up in the mid and late 1990's, I was huge fan of almost every Nicktoon Nickelodeon put out. A decade or two later I have to question what in the hell happened to good, *original* Nicktoons and why it took so long for Nickelodeon to release this massive backlog of material. Sorry Nickelodeon, no matter how you try and bill it Dragon Ball Z Kai will never be a true "Nicktoon" nor will any of these other cartoons you have based off brain-dead movie IPs. Real "Nicktoons" aren't transplants from other stations or comics. Real Nicktoons are what you're releasing with these sets from Shout Factory and I will line up around the corner to buy these over anything you produce today.

As high as my standards may be for what constitutes a Nicktoon, even I can't say these cartoons have survived the years completely unscathed. As sure as I was that something like Rocko's Modern life would be as good as it was back in 1996, current realities where more than enough to snap me out of my nostalgia filled bliss. Don't get me wrong, these shows are still great but they're being viewed by a much older viewer and it's obvious that some episodes and seasons are simply better than others. The Angry Beavers Seasons 1&2 set is no different, although my experience with it has been a bit more favorable than some of the other releases.

Season one starts out extremely well on the first disc but some trouble starts brewing even before season two takes the stage. Some of these episodes have rather bizarre settings and characters. While there isn't an episode I'd flat-out call a failure, I usually crave the episodes (like "You Promised!") where things are a bit more streamlined. Still, the series generally makes up for its low points with the elements that make up its world like the cheesy black and white horror movies that Dag and Norbert are always watching, something that’s cleverly given its own episodes with the excellent "Food of the Clods" and "The Day the Earth Got Really Screwed Up."

CONCLUSION:

That said I'm eager to own all these sets despite how time has slightly changed my perception of these cartoons. It's not always easy to dive in and enjoy them as I once did, but in general these cartoons are light-years beyond what children are watching now. I have to say I find that rather troubling, but at least parents who grew up with the Angry Beavers can change that.

Overall Score: 7/10

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Editorial: On second thought maybe I wasn’t harsh enough…

When I wrote my review for Wild Arms Alter code:F I thought I had adequately portrayed the disappointment I had with the product being an accurate recreation of one of my all-time favorite games. While nothing in that respect has changed in the last few days with the additional hours I’ve tacked onto my file that time leads me to believe I was too easy on the game. Granted, one doesn’t want to appear to be foaming at the mouth in a review for the sake of the reader, but I feel like a mad dog in that I honestly don’t want to waste anymore time in playing such a stale facsimile. Honestly, how one is supposed to level up Jack’s last two Fast Draws without going completely insane? Finding high level enemies near a rest point is impossible (bosses are the only enemies that really exceed 40~50) and why does everything in this game have to feel like a chore? If I want to do chores I’ll do chores, not play this overbearing excuse for a video game.

As I said previously, I’m done making excuses for Media Vision’s various failures. The time for such a decree is long overdue but the problem is that every game after Wild Arms 2 is a failure. Most know that Alter code:F is merely a dressed up version of Wild Arms 3 so it goes without saying it's plagued by almost all the same short comings. With those two games down for the count, Wild Arms 4 tried everything humanly possible to reinvent itself amidst the battle where the changing tides signified console RPG’s weren’t as relevant as they once were. Hell, even the series tenth anniversary wasn’t enough to save the fifth installment from itself, which more than proved to me it was over even though it was an improvement over the last game.

It’s over. Is there any other group of words with that kind of stopping power? Still, there’s the old saying that every ending is a new beginning. As sad as it was in general, I couldn’t have been happier with Capcom’s decision to put Mega Man on the shelf and quit making games. Why? No further erosion of the Mega Man brand, something they’ve have been more than efficient at doing over the last few years. The same really goes for Wild Arms which outlived it’s usefulness by a console generation. That said, I can’t recommend the first two games on the original PlayStation enough, a place where limitless imagination gave us Metal Demons and encroaching parallel universes – concepts that remain unmatched by their 128-bit brethren. Anyway, do I really morn the loss of Wild Arms? Not really, it was lost a long time ago before they stopped making the games. Yet such thought doesn’t stop one from thinking about all the missed opportunities, Alter code: F being one that should have been a no-brainer.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Wild Arms Alter code:F (PS2)

A “Well Crafted” Lullaby

When it comes to this player and video games, the past is an all you can eat buffet. The past is a fertile valley of known knowns while the future (while in high definition) is bleak and dark. Games sure do look pretty these days, but beyond that has anything really changed? Gameplay hasn’t evolved nearly as much as developers would like one to believe and original ideas are few and far between. Well, the last point is rather moot because originality in the world of video games has become somewhat of a parody of itself. Whenever a game popularizes a genre, in comes a flood of similar products vying for the same slice of the pie. Shooters fit that bill right now while console RPG’s where the big thing back in the late 1990’s. Really, looking at the original PlayStation’s library of games it’s not really hard to see where trends were heading.

Still, as much as I profess my love of video games for systems that have gone to the great cloud keeper in the sky, I can’t say I find playing games to be easy. Huh? To put it another way, while I have no problem stuffing my coffers with great games I’ve previously played and owned, I find it extremely hard to sit down and put time into a game. It really doesn’t mater if I enjoyed the hell out of it the last time around, it’s just hard. With such a revelation laid bare, one may question why I would even bothered to pick up Wild Arms Alter code:F. Well, it has to do with the PlayStation original, one of my all-time favorites which I recently re-completed. The original finished, I figured why not give the 05’ remake a spin considering it hasn’t been touched since it first came out? Unfortunately, six years is decent sized chunk time for memories and opinions to fade, and my oh my did I need a refresher course on this one. So in the spirit of relaying the foundation, let’s tackle what Alter code:F has to offer, brick by brick by looking at the back over of this behemoth.

A treasured classic returns in an all-new RPG saga!

I think most would agree this statement belongs in oxymoron land. I don’t think one should get to call a remake an “all-new RPG saga.” It just doesn’t hold water. It’s like saying cougars would make good house pets. Tongue-in-cheek as this really is, this overstatement is important because it hints at what Alter code:F wants to be. As for calling the original Wild Arms a “classic,” well, I try and avoid terms that draw lines in the sand when talking about video games. Personally, I call games I’m smitten with “personal classics” but I guess I will indulge some advertising and say, yes, Wild Arms is a classic despite going toe to toe with a game like Final Fantasy VII. If not, why would I have been so excited about this product’s impending release?

Wild Arms Alter code: F features a variety of technical and artistic advancements along with an updated storyline.

Without plunging into a bulleted list of what “advancements” Alter code:F’s has to offer, I find it more pressing to talk about what Alter code attempts do with it’s various changes, or rather the message behind it. As most know this is no mere port of the PlayStation classic, but a “revisioning” that most bill as a “remake.” As simple as such a label appears, make no mistake that Alter code:F, as a game, wants to be seen as more than a remake. The game may appear to embrace that which is based but at the same time it wants to be its own separate entity. It’s this dual nature that makes Alter code:F unique, but as most would expect, such a scheme is hardly foolproof. Even from the most basic of viewpoints, it’s easy to tell the game tries to be more than it is when it tries to improve upon already successful material. There is perhaps no better example of this other than the music of Michiko Naruke.

Much like the works of other prominent video game composers like Final Fantasy’s Nobuo Uematsu, a sizable portion of the series success can be attributed to Naruke. I’m not going to sit here and place Naruke among the elite composers of the industry (she isn’t) but it’s almost a forgone conclusion for one to think of “To the End of the Wildnerness” when they hear a random whistle. Still, such nostalgia aside, the score for the original game worked so well because its ideas weren’t drenched in unnecessary complexity. So how does that concept translate years later given the various the advancements in sound technology? Not so well. Somewhere along the line, Naruke forgot that too much bombast can be a bad thing. Time after time, over zealous instruments take turns - and fail - at making previously successful tracks even more successful. Yet this problem is not limited to just the music but has been ingrained in almost every aspect of Alter code:F. Ironically, Naruke starts to find her groove with new pieces like “Determination, and then...” which more than make up for the classics she botches. Still, it’s somewhat sad that Naruke’s score is one of the better aspects of this remake despite its hitches.

Beautifully rendered CGI graphics based on the original material found in the video game and anime series.

Saving my thoughts on Alter code’s graphical prowess for later on, I want focus on design, artwork and sources of inspiration. Out of these three, it obvious that sources of inspiration (“original material”) is the most important given it’s going to affect the remaining categories. As expected, I have a bit of a bone to pick with using the anime series as “original material.” Like most anime adaptations, Twilight Venom takes a lot of liberties with the “real” original material (the original video game) so calling this “original material” is a gross misrepresentation. Now, given most people picking up Alter code:F in 2005 were fans of the original (why anyone else would play such a dated game is beyond me) to most it would make sense to keep the original’s art style intact, right? What seems like common sense to me and you is completely lost on those behind Alter code:F.

So why is the art direction so important with Wild Arms and Wild Arms Alter code:F? Because it has everything to do with the impression Japanese culture made on American audiences back in 1997 with games like Final Fantasy VII. Again, sounding like a broken record, Final Fantasy VII introduced a myriad of things to a new audience, one of those things being anime. Yet while many continue to credit Final Fantasy VII with making anime look “hip” in the west, the original Wild Arms and its opening video drove that message forward even more, to me at least. So when think of or see anime, Wild Arms is less than a hop, skip and a jump away. This is why the original art style is so important and why the new art style in Alter code:F is such a blunder. The list of things born out of this change that annoy me is never ending: I really hate the way Jack’s new gloves look (grrr!), I really hate the look of the Protowing/Gullwing and I really hate how Jack only draws his sword for Fast Draws. Really, you’re going to sit there and try and convince me that a swordsman is going to half-heartedly “punch” things instead of sawing them in half because it’s a “normal” hit? Sure… that’s a battle you’re bound to win Media Vision.

All and all, the taking of “liberties” is a battle that Alter code:F loses to various degrees, something I’ll point at more as we come across each category but as for the number of changes that result in actual “improvements” the number is rather low. I’ll give them the concept of Rudy attacking with his ARM on normal attacks instead of a sword, that’s a pretty well thought out change, but it also results in some of the game’s lowest lows. If anyone wants to seriously stand there and tell me that Rudy’s collection of cartridges is more impressive than the guns he wielded in the original I would take extreme pleasure in laughing at you until my sides hurt. Quite honestly, if this is the best they can do I rather this game was more of an updated carbon copy of the original. Actually, if that’s what Alter code:F was it be of a much higher quality, not the physical manifestation of uninspired seconds.

A redeveloped script with new plot twists and puzzle solving.

Surely they jest using the term “redeveloped script.” For the most part, what the player reads emulates what was said in the original only, you know, sloppier. The original had its flaws (like Berserk being translated as Belselk which is actually a much better name in my opinion) but like a lot of players out there, I can’t say I’m happy with Agetech getting the rights to localize and publish this thing, especially considering the year of delays we where hit with. Allowing this game to percolate on the burner for another year certainly didn’t help it in the long run. Ironically, the most intriguing changes to the script are things that ultimately mean nothing. Wait a minute, did they just use the pronoun “she” in a reference to Alhazad? I always thought Alhazad was a he, not a she. Other changes are the result of omissions (The Maze of Death and Tripillar were nuked out of existence and replaced with lame substitutions) and the Gate Generator occurs after the Demon’s Lab rather than the Fallen Sanctuary. Still, most of the liberties the game makes with its subject matter fail when placed side by side with the original which makes one wonder what makes it so stilted, the original writing or the translation.

The same can really be said of the game’s puzzle solving. While there are some would hate to admit it, the quality of Wild Arms’ puzzle solving has been in free fall since Wild Arms 3. The newer the Wild Arms game is, the more painful the attempt at recapturing that past magic ends up being. The real kick in the pants is how watered down the solutions have become. I remember getting stuck on certain puzzles for days in the original the first time I played it. To some, that would seem more like an annoyance than a virtue, but when I look back at the since of pride I got once I discovered the solution and it was more than worth the temporary obstruction. Alter code:F can’t conjure such emotion because it’s simply not of the same caliber. Well, that’s not entirely true. The game manages to offer some intriguing puzzle solving with the Puzzle Box side quest that’s much improved over the original build seen in Advanced 3rd. Seriously, you could make a game consisting only of these puzzles, call it “Puzzle Box,” charge me fifty dollars for it and I’d line up around the corner to buy it like I did for this game - only I’d be much more content. It’s sad day when a side quest portion of a game is more attractive than the quest that’s meant to propel it forward.

Going hand-in-hand with such disappointment is dungeon design. Does anyone remember when dungeons were more than soulless, flyby item drive-throughs? I can, and that era seemed to end with the closing of the 32/64 bit era. Unlike many of the other problems found within Alter code:F, I can’t say this isn’t a problem is exclusive to Wild Arms or the RPG genre. It’s dumbfounding how insipid level design has become these days and people wonder why I latch onto memories of ten or even fifteen year old games. It’s not really too hard to comprehend is it? Earlier games had to made up for their lack of gloss with design; now that graphics have became the main event design has taken a backseat, the number of polygons a “engine” can push and how speedy the framerate is being everyone’s main concern.

More than 60 hours of game play on a Dual Layer DVD.

I don’t know about anybody else, but a game a promising me sixty hours of gameplay isn’t quite the proposition it use to be. Sure, there was a time where I saw a lengthy completion time as a virtue, as something that added value to a game. Due to that warped sense of logic, I once believed that the RPG was superior to every other genre out there simply because they were longer. Fifty hours to complete a fifty dollar game automatically meant I got the biggest bang for my buck, right? Fast forward a decade and a half and I realize how dumb those thoughts really were. Sixty hours? I still have no life like I did back then but can barely play a game for more than an hour at time these days. I thought my attention span was suppose to get better (longer) with age but all age has bought with it is an inescapable sense of maturity. I still like to play video games but sitting in front of the TV for that long to play a game? I completed the original Wild Arms in a little less than thirty hours and got a great return on my investment. I would play Alter code: F for over sixty and feel half empty because half of that time was mere fluff, doing inane things for the sake of completeness because of the perfectionist I am – one of my most annoying flaws.

A mere fifteen hours in I remember looking at the back of game case at this particular buying point thinking “what did I get myself into?” Ironically, a good chunk of those hours were spent leveling Jack’s lame-ass Fast Draws. Outside the fact these attacks look insanely flaccid to those in the original (what I wouldn’t give to have seen a Magnum Fang or Guilty Blade; hell, even the simplistic Meteor Dive would have been a treat) the amount of time I spent making these attacks and Jack economical was psychotic. I can see the need to ditch Secret Signs since they were easy to abuse but to replace it with system that requires so much work when no other character requires such a commitment is completely shortsighted. Okay, so Rudy’s ARMS require a heaping handful of Gella to maintain, but in typical Wild Arms fashion there’s a simple method around that and makes the remainder of the game your bitch. Again, you don’t have to level up these attacks, but I doubt anyone wants to use up their MP reserves in two measly attacks. Couple this with Jack’s ridiculously low MP, lack of a real MP restoration item, the fact if you are over eager to level up (there’s a trick for this too) the formula behind Fast Draws will screw you and you can start to see how mindful you have to be about certain things compared to, oh I don’t know, actually enjoying the game.

New playable characters round out the familiar cast of adventurers, adding depth to the tactics and battle system.

Saying there is any depth and tactical elements to Alter code:F’s battle system is extremely charitable. Once certain abilities are learned (like Gattling Raid, Brave Seal, Great Booster) most battles - boss battles, because these will be the only fights you’ll be fighting the more you play (more on that later) will come down to repeating the same pattern. I guess that could be seen as a “strategy” per say and sure, the original game was rather simplistic in that respect but I’m willing to give a game released in 1997 a lot more leeway than one released in 2005. Alter code:F (and to a little lesser extent Wild Arms 3) like to act as if nothing has changed since 1997. What’s really changed since the first game besides the Inertia Cancel? MP has returned for obvious reasons but besides that nothing. While this evolutionary, dead-end cycle was going on, other games were presenting with intriguing new takes on RPG combat. I’m not going to tout them as flawless (even something as refreshing as Legend of Legaia has its flaws) but at least they were mixing things up.

Adding to the combat crisis are the characters themselves. For the sake of all that’s good and holy, let’s get the big one out of the way: Rudy is a god. The supposedly redeveloped script puts more of an emphasis on the power of ARM (I would have said “ARMs” but I had to poke fun at the oddball way this is written in-game) so we had to make Rudy insanely powerful and destroy any semblance of balance. Remember the good old days where Rudy ARMs and Jack Fast Draws were on somewhat even ground? Okay, so Cecilia had to cast Hyper on Jack so his Fast Draws could equal out to a good strong ARM attack like Rudy’s Phaser but offensively both characters carried an equal amount of clout. Jack would occasionally need to fall back on Heal Blade (which I miss) to help out Cecelia giving Rudy the edge as the all-out attack character but you get what I’m saying. A dynamic such as this is totally lost in Alter code:F because the sole purpose of remaining characters eventually becomes turning Rudy a one-man death machine. Unlike Wild Arms 3 where HP totals took the Gattling Force ability into consideration because every character had it, the same can’t be said here when it comes to bosses encountered during the main story. Every once in while the game will try and throw a unique boss situation your way but players with even the slightest grasp of RPGs will be able to strong-arm their way through them with little effort.

Stunning FMV cut-scenes relays the story like never before!

If we’re talking about the drawn anime FMV one sees when they load a game I have to say the video that opened the 1997 original is vastly superior and more impressive. I’m not just referring to the slightly stilted character redesign (something that should have been left alone) but quality in general. Honestly, there are a few points within where the animation seems to be missing some frames. Obviously, as other aspects of the game imply, the game didn’t exactly have the biggest budget, something that would become even more apparent with Wild Arms 4. Now, if we’re talking about CGI cut-scenes things are much worse. These scenes are just slightly enhanced, in-game engine videos that leave a lot to be desired. Really, they look like something a fledgling 3D modeler would come up with in a computer graphics class, not something that should be gracing a fifty dollar video game. There are earlier PlayStation 2 games that look better than this despite their age. There are PlayStation 2 games with in-game engines that look better than this. I’m sorry, I’m not usually this much of a graphics whore but when you write loaded statements you should expect some witty retort in return.

Stunning Graphics Engine – Detailed characters, enemies and environment truly bring this game to life.

They sure do like to use the word “stunning” don’t they? Unfortunately, despite the emphasis there is nothing stunning about the graphical engine used in Wild Arms Alter code:F. Why? Well, there’s a multitude of reasons, many of which were already explained above. The first is more than obvious: Wild Arms Alter code:F is the original Wild Arms slapped in a Wild Arms 3 shell. The game uses the exact same engine employed by the 2002 sequel and it shows from things like borrowed spell animations to the odd pixilation problem that still exists. (I noticed Media Vision!) Really, it’s hard to take any boast about the game’s graphical prowess seriously. The real problem is while it acceptable in and of itself, does everything have to be so uninspired? I appreciate the wider color palette (the lack of which simultaneously hurt and helped Wild Arms 3) but do towns have to be so small? Do all the attacks and enemies have to look so flat and boring? I’m really tired of using that old “it’s still well crafted excuse” to justify the fact I’m dealing with stuff like this. The original game may have pushed way fewer polygons in battle yet my character’s attacks looked way more attractive? That just isn’t right. Additionally, while everything is now three-dimensional, the 3D rarely makes a given scene more impressive than it was back in 1997. There are only a small handful of scenes that truly knock me on my ass with their looks and three of them happen in the Guardian Temple when the guardians peer into Jack, Rudy and Cecilia’s hearts. Still, I’d got chills watching these scenes in 2D. The game’s last great scene is a new addition dealing with Rudy, Surf Village and the guardian of Hope and is the main reason fans should check this game out. So, I guess the graphics can bring the game to life – once every blue moon.

Evolved Battle System – Control up to six party members to combat the forces of evil.

Again, “evolved” is pushing it. I guess I understand printing lies and half truths to push your product when it’s this outdated, but then given this is a remake I don’t think customers were expecting any kind of grand evolution. Anyway, beyond picking on some failed advertising at least the latter half of this is true. The roster is doubled this time around, two of the characters proving insanely useful (in turning Rudy into a behemoth) and the third proving insanely useless and rather surprising. Still, while I could just copy and paste everything I’ve previously said about combat here, there are some other issues we haven’t tackled yet. I don’t know about anyone else, but is the encounter rate high enough for you? Seriously, makes the original look that much better even though there wasn’t a cancel system. Speaking of the cancel encounter system, about half way through the game it’s going to be your best friend if you have enough Migrant Medals. Why? Thanks to the easy level-up method there’s no reason to fight a normal battle ever again! If I can get a level or two between each dungeon/boss by fighting Mega Apples what’s there to keep me from sailing though dungeons outside surprise attacks that come courtesy of low luck? Honesty and integrity? Sure, let’s go with that… all I know is fifty million cancels later I can put the game away.

Another sore spot is the fact that equipment is still a thing of the past. Man, where ever you turn the lame ideas presented in Wild Arms 3 infest this game! I don’t know about anyone else, but I really enjoyed stumbling upon new pieces of equipment for my characters in the original. What’s this? Ooooh, a new piece of armor! I wonder who it goes on! Let’s see! Yay, it’s for Rudy! This experience may seem kind of trivial in the vast scheme of a RPG, but it’s these commonplace things that Wild Arms 3 overlooked and took for granted in exchange for one of the messiest the skill systems in existence. And speaking of things related to the skill system, I also miss assigning runes (materials) to my characters! It was always a thrill getting a new rune and seeing who got the biggest bang out of it. Those days are gone and over in Alter code:F now that Cecilia has complete reign over summons in exchange for her mystic ability. You can make enemy pay dearly if you cast the right material (hell, with a decent level and FP Advance you can end most battles before they even begin) but it comes at the cost of character customization. I guess the skill system kind of makes up for that but it’s far from exciting. Gee, who would have ever thought to but HP ups on Cecilia or put critical ups on Rudy and Jane? Seriously, you’ve done this all before in a game called Final Fantasy IX.

Last but not least, can we kill off the Crossfire Sequence yet? I love how Wild Arms 3 touted this like it was next big thing in RPG battles but it’s not. Having characters and enemies troll around the battlefield between every attack is just a big time-waster and when one considers how much time they’ve wasted with the majority of this game it’s a poorly concocted combo. I just love how the long distances between enemies and the player’s characters magically disappear during a critical hit. Very realistic. I think most would agree in an old-school RPG like this battles should be as straightforward and as quick as possible. Things are a bit more streamlined when fighting on the high seas, but those moments are the vast minority.

CONCLUSION:

I really wanted to like Wild Arms Alter code: F the second time around, but as optimistic as I was when I first but the disc in my PlayStation 2 my enthusiasm evaporated as the hours dragged by. The reason why is simple: the 1997 original had soul while this remake reminds one how game design has become a blind, corporate mechanism. Wild Arms deserves more than this and that’s why I had no choice but to take each oversold selling point on the back cover and knock them down a peg or two. I may have been able to turn a blind eye to the series various failings in the past, but I can no longer candy coat the truth to protect my fragile psyche. I have to be honest, pull the band-aid off and admit that playing the later games in the series is like hitting the snooze button over and over again in a vain attempt to sleep in. Sure, you may have gotten a few extra winks, but you’re more tired than you would have been if you had just gotten your lazy bones up in the first place.

Additionally, Alter code:F proves it is not just a copy of a previously successful game. No. Alter code:F feels like a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy. It’s a like a message that goes though a handful people and bits and pieces of it get misconstrued. The message may essentially say the same thing in the end, but in no way is it the same as hearing the message oneself. In other words, Alter code:F’s could have been something, it could have been a spectacular companion piece to the PlayStation original. Instead, Alter code:F’s so fake it almost feels like an insult; it’s so fake one can’t help but wish it’s lackluster experience was a dream. Unfortunately, we’re not asleep and one cannot fully understand how inferior it really is until they play it and the original.

Overall Score: 6/10

Friday, September 2, 2011

Irregular Hunter X / Rockman Rockman OST

In 2009, Nintendo’s Game Boy celebrated its 20th anniversary. Outside of making me feel a lot older than I have a right to, Nintendo’s little light gray brick more or less brought handheld gaming to the masses. Handheld gaming may have existed prior to that point but it was much more limited, often times a device being devoted to a single game. Breaking down such barriers is impressive on its own; what is perhaps even more impressive is how the Game Boy and its predecessors managed to hold their own despite usually having the least advanced hardware in the field at any given time. Systems like the Sega Game Gear, the Nokia N-Gage and Neo-Geo Pocket may have come and gone, but some version of the Game Boy was always around.

Still, when it comes to competitors, the PlayStation Portable is generally believed to be the most substantial rival Nintendo has ever faced. The PSP is a lot of different things to different people. From its cool looking discs to its somewhat sagging sales, it’s the kind of machine that screams Sony from the top of its lungs. All jesting aside, it’s also referred to by some with another, slightly negative moniker: port city. To those that grew up during the reign of the original PlayStation, can one look at the current line-up of games and not come down with a case of enhanced déjà vu? Good games may deserve an expanded audience, but they don’t exactly radiate the luster needed to make the PSP a crowning jewel in the current jungle of handheld hardware.

While it may be easy to play the blame game and point out companies that lean towards such a strategy, Capcom deserves a little more credit (or a little less distain) for digging back through the past a little bit deeper for some of their ports, which in the case of Mega Man: Powered Up and Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X contain enough new content to slyly exit port territory and plant a foot on remake island. But as everyone knows, re-imaging the past – or even going as far as rewriting it – is a risky proposition. This pertains to music as well, but before one can pass judgment on these upgraded tunes, one must revisit the tunes of yesteryear.

The Original Mega Man, its Music, the Sequels, and these soundtracks:

For one to gauge the degree of success Toshihiko Horiyama achieves in reshaping the music of Mega Man, one has to look back at the original game itself. Not only that, but one has to expand their view to at least the first sequel as well. Focusing in on the games to the level that follows may seem extreme, but what the environments tell one visually is vital in what Manami Matsumae portrays to the listener. As odd as this may sound in this day and age, Mega Man’s initial adventure on the Nintendo in 1987 was undoubtedly unique. I’m not talking about things like having six bosses instead of the standard eight or the lack of energy tanks, but the impersonal, industrial feel the stages. Other elements, like gun turret traps, the drab color palette and lack of support characters helped fuel the feeling that you were truly alone, that you were charged with terminating six humanoid robots with little to no explanation. All you knew was that they had to be destroyed. Manami took this into consideration when musically depicting the world, and an abstract sense of “isolated solace” found its way into these compositions. Unsurprisingly, there are a few tracks that flat-out break this ideal (like the free-for-all anomaly that is “Cutman Stage”) or bend it (the forward movement in “Gutsman Stage” and the hints of quirkiness found in “Bombman Stage” and “Iceman Stage”) but most adhered to the structure of what is a moody soundtrack that isn’t terribly engaging.

This begs the question: what is the original Mega Man known for? It’s collection of robot masters? It’s insane crash damage when fighting the Yellow Devil? It’s somewhat peculiar and forgettable level design? All of these are good answers, but perhaps the best answer is its place in the evolution of the series. There would be no Mega Man 2 and beyond without it; games with environments that are surprisingly void of the feel outlined above even though they aren’t any less inviting for would-be intruders. This doesn’t make the game any less important in the scheme of things, though it does make it less likely to be brought up in conversation than its predecessors.

So what does all this have to do with the music of Powered Up and, more importantly, this disc? Lots. With the original not topping most people’s favorite lists, was it really the best choice for a remake outside of the fact it was obviously coordinated with the release of Maverick Hunter X? The lower than expected sales figures may have surprised Keiji Inafune but they didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was Maverick Hunter X ending up in the same boat despite the obvious advantage it had with its success in its original form. From here, it’s easy to see why Capcom decided to package them together in 2009 (in Japan) and included this disc to sweeten the pot. If both games had sold as projected, this release probably wouldn’t exist. That’s irony. Still, the craziest thing professed about Powered Up was Inafune stating that this is how he had envisioned Mega Man from very beginning. Such knowledge out in the open, how does the musical aspect of this “vision” turn out? Read on to find out.

Thoughts on Mega Man Powered Up:

As expected, with Powered Up’s cute, chibi-esque characters and bubbly world comes the removal of Matsumae’s original moodscapes. The sole survivor in this respect (that’s presented here) is “Wily Stage,” where a happy medium between the two styles is reached, where the darkness is only infused with a side order of peppiness rather than dominating it. This fails to be the case everywhere else you turn, though it leads to some spectacular results. “Boss Battle” gains the most from its upgrade, the beat and layering adding a considerable amount of girth to a piece that was a rather skimpy and sporadic. Speaking of things being a little less sporadic, “Fireman Stage” has also grown in a similar respect with thicker synths eliminating the illusionary gaps between the notes while enhancing its pulse. “Wily Boss Battle” also comes out ahead, acquiring the kind of haunting depth that was sorely missing from the original.

When it comes to the remainder of the tunes (save for Cutman’s) just add a cup or two of happiness to the themes you know and love. Obviously, such a formula does little in dissecting new additions like “Timeman Stage” and “Oilman Stage” which makes them extremely hard to judge. One can’t help but think how they would have been presented on the NES with the game’s initial tones in check. Such thoughts only lead to uncertainty, although one certainly gets the idea that it’s hard to amend the past, much like it is when taking in Oilman and Timeman’s designs in when thinking of the game’s robot master crew.

However, when it comes to conflict, nothing tops Horiyama’s introduction of a new central theme. It’s not the that the composition itself causes the problem, but the fact I thought Mega Man already had a central theme, the one it ended with and shared with Mega Man 2. Given the game’s emotional facelift, the theme is more than appropriate yet overreaching in its effort considering how previous games got by without such connections - Mega Man Zero tried this with its “Area ZERO” theme which never really grabbed me. This isn’t to say that thematic reprises can’t serve the series, but they are simply few and far between in these action games compared to RPGs, games which generally have more bases to cover.

In the end, given the revamped, colorful world Toshihiko was presented with, it’s my belief that he did what he could with this score while staying in bounds of what was expected. Furthermore, I don’t think anyone else could surpass his work with such restrictions in place, but the fact remains that Horiyama can create far more superior music when he’s allowed to craft his own compositions (i.e. Mega Man X4) instead of prettying up old ones, something that mirrors Powered Up as a product as a whole.

Thoughts on Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X:

Although it may not seem like it given their different textures and polar opposite worlds, it’s almost too good to be true that selections from Mega Man Powered Up share a disc with those from Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X. While I may have gone on about the lack of freedom Horiyama had above, the arrangers for Maverick Hunter X had even less freedom. Restrictions and expectations based solely on preconceptions may not exactly be fair, but the amount of success Mega Man X received on the SNES compared to the NES debut means things are going to be scrutinized on a different and altogether higher level. A lot of this has to do with the idea that the series musical direction was at full term by the first game and that each subsequent soundtrack didn’t really evolve as much as they took on the faces of the composers behind them.

Unfortunately, it’s one of the most unfavorable “faces” that takes the reigns here - Shinya Okada. While Okada may have others by his side - Kento Hasegawa and Seiko Kobuchi - it does nothing to ease my feelings that this group knows next to anything about Mega Man music, unlike Naoto Tanaka or Ryo Kawakami. Okada’s obvious penchant towards techno-flavored pieces has managed to worm its way into games like Mega Man X7 and X8, where it has more or less tried to (annoyingly) declare war on convention. In all honesty, it was only with Mega Man X Command Mission – a game that had very little to do with that series’ canon – were it didn’t run afoul and actually worked. Capcom basically gave him a blank check with that game, and he cashed it as hard and as quickly as he could because no one had any idea what a Mega Man RPG was meant to sound like. In many ways he succeeded (I actually enjoy and appreciate the Command Mission soundtrack for what it is) and got his wish of drenching a game with his sound. Sort of. It’s not too big of a stretch to state a title like Command Mission lacks the clout of an action oriented Mega Man title, thus the audience reached was significantly smaller. Enter Maverick Hunter X. But what happens when you take away the freedom to create a new, original score that Command Mission afforded? You get a hybrid that screams “I want credit too!” Intelligently, instead of completely fighting against the grain, Okada and crew play a game governments employ to increase their own power. Knowing that a complete one-eighty in terms of policy (in the case style) is suicide, they ever so slightly chip away at ideas and opinions in order to achieve their goals. To put it another way, it’s easier to rewrite history a little at a time than to do it in one fell swoop. This is the sole concept that the experience revolves around, and like the governments they parallel, they do a more than efficient job in doing it. However, efficiency and strength are two different beasts, and it’s pretty obvious the reason this version is efficient is because of the strength of the original, underlying material. Need some proof? Check out “Theme of VAVA.” It’s amazing how terrible this piece is despite how appropriate it is for the character it represents. Be that as it may, the only other piece that truly winds up in any kind of trouble is “Sigma Battle 2” where an effort to make the piece more epic winds up creating an ugly mass of instrumentation.

Beyond the music and the perceived motives behind it, there is another item of interest buried within the soundtrack. The title for the opening stage music “Opening Stage ~Theme of X~” brings up a question on how one perceives opening stage themes. Has anyone ever thought of these pieces as more than just area themes? Personally, I never started viewing them as character themes until X4 when the music in the Sky Lagoon changed depending on which character one played as, which (combined with their reappearance in the game’s ending FMVs) more or less implied them as such. Zero’s dedicated themes in X1~X3 also did their part in implanting such a view in the listener. However, looking back at this particular composition, it’s not hard to see how it can be seen as more than a backdrop for the chaos and destruction Sigma’s minions are causing throughout Abel City. Thinking about it now, it also personifies the confusion running rampant throughout X’s mind as he works his way towards the center of Vile’s disturbance.

When all is said and done, there is little doubt that the arrangers of Maverick Hunter X aimed to take a previously successful score and make it their own. What’s confounding about this is how such a feeling exists even though they don’t do anything truly radical, like forging a new main theme. If anything, it’s a thinly veiled plot that hardly encroaches on the original music at the heart of the matter, and while it’s neither harsh nor abrasive, it has nowhere near the longevity that any of its crafters had hoped for.

CONCLUSION:

In the end, the music for both games covered on disc try their best to make one re-envision the origins of what are two of the most important Mega Man series to date. Unfortunately, as blunt as it sounds, the truth is that neither score is likely to act as a gateway to either series musical continuities for newer, younger listeners. In terms of overall quality however, Toshihiko’s work on Powered Up pulls ahead for not taking itself too seriously or as seriously as Maverick Hunter X’s self-serving techno edge. As surprising as this may sound coming from a true-blue Mega Man fan, this disc will mostly likely only end up in the collections of those who consider themselves as completionists, something I once viewed myself as not to long ago but have grown beyond.

Overall Score: 7/10

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Full Strike (2002) We Will Rise

“A solid little classic lost in time”

A solo effort by then HammerFall Guitarist Stefan Elmgren, 2002's "We Will Rise" is a classic lost in time. Well, when I say classic, I more or less mean "personal classic" but you get the point. Anyway, back when this album was released during my high school years I couldn't exactly afford to shell out for the $30~40 import (which was the only version of the album I could find at the time) so it eventually fell off my radar. Recently, for some reason, I felt compelled to pull the memories of this record out of cold storage and stumbled upon the more affordable Spitfire pressing.

Upon listening, I'm glad to say "We Will Rise" has survived the years quite well. As if it needs to be said, this isn't a five star album, but the music is solid and well performed. The songs (outside the tacked-on instrumental) work well together and while one could say "if you like HammerFall you'll probably like this" that’s something I’d rather not say. Full Strike's music feels a little more subdued in the abstract sense and such a label only misconstrues what is here. What I will say is I was pretty surprised by the subject matter presented within the lyrics, something that flew over my head eight years ago. While HammerFall may sing of Templars, figures with deep religious ties, Stefan and vocalist Niclas Johnsson write about the problems that religion and politics have brought mankind throughout history and mankind's ability to overcome such obstacles through unity.

CONCLUSION:

Personally, I find it hard to beat the superb title track (really, if an album's title track isn't good, that's a bad sign), "Silent Screams" (a solid power ballad) and "Created Fantasy." Unfortunately, the most disappointing thing about "We Will Rise" is the fact it's most definitely a one shot deal; Stefan has since left HammerFall and the music scene to focus on his career as a pilot. Personally, I would have welcomed another album, even years later, but at least there will always be this little cult classic.

Overall Score: 7/10