Gun-Nac (NES)

Pulverizing your enemies: The true reason for the season.

Ho, ho, ho! Merry Compilemas! Time for another present to myself in the form of a “new” offering from one of my most appreciated developers. I had so much fun with Compile’s formative classic Zanac back in December of 2017 that I decided to make returning to this particular well a Christmas tradition for as long as possible. This year, I’m unwrapping 1990’s Gun-Nac for the NES. It’s yet another vertically-scrolling shooter in the time-tested Zanac/Aleste mold. There’s one key difference this time, though: Gun-Nac is a “cute-’em-up” that sees you repelling an invasion of adorable animals and prosaic household objects instead of the usual alien armada.

If you’re inclined to believe the English instruction manual, Gun-Nac takes place in a faraway “synthetic solar system” called IOTA Synthetica, where a mysterious cosmic force is causing all sorts of  unlikely things to spring to life and attack the populace. You control maverick space ace Commander Gun-Nac in his bid to to save the day. Given that you never see Commander Gun-Nac himself, you may suspect something was lost in translation. Sure enough, the extended cutscenes in the Japanese original reveal the story was meant to be set in our own solar system and star a lady magician who summons her high tech spaceship with a spell. I’m not sure why this rather charming element was removed. It reminds me of how my last Compile Christmas selection, Space Megaforce, also ditched its pilot characters, Raz and Thi, in favor of another unseen protagonist. It’s almost like whoever was in charge of localizing these titles was actively striving to keep them as bland as possible for some reason.

Oh, well. On to the blasting! Gun-Nac is made up of eight stages. Nine, if you count the hidden “area zero” accessible by setting the sound test in the option menu to five, which enables the level select function. Per usual for Compile, they’re all quite lengthy and most include at least one mid-boss in addition to a final boss. The wacky theming starts off strong with a cratered lunar surface where killer bunny robots deploy heat-seeking carrots against you. Weird as that is, there is context for it. In China, Japan, and other parts of Asia, the “face” on the moon is thought to resemble a rabbit, an association that’s influenced mythology and art for centuries. The more you know. Later stages pit you against paper products, money, and other absurd threats.

The action itself is pure Aleste. Your ship can cycle between four speed settings at will, equip five primary shot types represented by numbered icons, and carry four flavors of limited use elemental super bomb for emergencies. Gathering power chips will enhance your primary gun and the wing item bulks up your ship, allowing it to withstand an extra hit before it’s destroyed. One entirely new addition is money bag pickups, which you can exchange for various ship upgrades at between-level shops. These resemble fast food establishments, except they vend death rays and explosive ordinance instead of burgers and fries. Gotta love that smiling girl at the counter with her paper hat and name tag.

When it comes to this tried-and-true formula, I essentially have no complaints. Gun-Nac is a prime example of the Compile house style. It and its fellows are among my most treasured gaming memories for good reason. They’re invariably fast-paced and hectic, with pinpoint-accurate controls and little, if any, slowdown. On top of this, you get a plethora of exciting weapons to wield and a relatively forgiving design that allows for a much less punishing play experience than is typical for the genre. Some critics have claimed these games are too easy, too samey, or that their levels drag on too long. Allowing for personal preference, this is all fair enough. Certainly, Gun-Nac is notably easy on its default difficulty setting. I was able to complete it on my very first attempt without needing to continue even once. Good luck pulling that off in Gradius or R-Type! For me, however, auto-scrolling shooters just don’t get any better. If you’ve enjoyed any of the studio’s similar works (Zanac, The Guardian Legend, Power Strike, Blazing Lazers, Space Megaforce, etc), I can virtually guarantee you’ll like this one, too.

There is one thing that disappointed me about Gun-Nac, although it’s unrelated to the gameplay proper. Despite being billed as Compile’s take on the cute-’em-up subgenre, it doesn’t seem the design team was prepared to fully embrace the unbridled insanity that usually implies. Comparing Gun-Nac’s art and sound direction to that of cutsey staples like TwinBee, Parodius, and Fantasy Zone reveals it to occupy an awkward middle ground between them and the typical “straight” shooter. Some stages (like the previously mentioned rabbit-infested moon) are as kooky as can be. Others are decidedly restrained. In fact, the further you progress, the more things start to resemble an average Aleste game. The final stage is a stock metallic techno-fortress that features no oddball enemies at all, only common spaceships and gun turrets. It’s as if Gun-Nac’s creators couldn’t agree on what sort of tone to aim for. That, or they happened to have a bunch of leftover sprites and background tiles laying around from other projects and opted to cobble together another game out of them.

Gun-Nac may be a tad disjointed aesthetically, but its familiar, masterful action still succeeded in making my already blissful holiday season that little bit brighter. I can’t think of a better note to close out another amazing year of gaming goodness on. It’s been a true blessing to have had the opportunity to explore another 59 vintage games with you all over the past twelve months. I have some important milestones coming up in 2020, including the biggie: Review #200, which will focus on my all-time most beloved game for my favorite console. Until then, Merry Christmas and a sincere thanks to each and every one of you.

Beyond Oasis (Genesis)

What happens when key contributors to the legendary Streets of Rage beat-’em-up series try their battle-scarred hands at fantasy adventure? Perhaps unsurprisingly, you end up with 1994’s Beyond Oasis, or The Story of Thor: A Successor of the Light, as it’s known outside North America. Legend of Zelda infused with combo attacks and fighting game style special moves? I can go for that.

Beyond Oasis is the product of Ancient, the development house founded by game music virtuoso Yuzo Koshiro and his mother Tomo Koshiro. Ayano Koshiro, a prolific graphic designer and Yuzo’s sister, worked on the art. Talk about a family affair! I’ve previously covered games made by newlyweds (The Battle of Olympus) and a pair of brothers (Plok), but this takes the dynamic to a whole new level. Unlike so many of the smaller studios I touch on, Ancient still exists as of 2019, with its most recent output being some music tracks for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. Whoever coined that company name sure nailed it.

In Beyond Oasis, you play as Prince…Ali. I wish I could say Prince Thor, like I could for the Japanese or PAL releases. Alas, someone on the North American side must have just adored a certain animated blockbuster, so say hello to your precious Prince Ali. I suppose he does wear baggy white pants and use a magic item to command helpful spirits, so I get the thought process. It’s still dumb. Anyway, Ali is treasure hunting one day when he comes across a golden armlet. When he dons it, the ghost of the wizard who created it appears and begins furiously dumping exposition. Turns out there’s a matching silver armlet made in ancient times by the ghost wizard’s evil counterpart and prophecy states that if one armlet is unearthed, the other will be, too. The wizard implores Ali to use the gold armlet’s power to seek out and defeat the bearer of the silver one before the kingdom of Oasis comes to ruin.

This obviously entails wandering the land, slaying monsters, and exploring puzzle-filled dungeons, all from a 3/4 overhead perspective. There’s nothing wrong with a game utilizing a familiar template for accessibility’s sake, of course, so long as it’s able to stake out a claim on its own identity. Beyond Oasis manages this on two fronts with its visceral take on combat and its inventive spirit companion system.

The fighting has a robust, “chunky” feel to it compared to most other adventure titles. Ali’s strikes are impactful. They stun lock enemies in place and continuing to mash the attack button after that will automatically turn them into flashy multi-hit combos. There are also special attack commands. One example: Quickly tapping the directional pad toward an enemy, then away, then back again before pressing the button will produce a flip attack. This move is great because it can hit targets at all altitudes. Since the game takes the enemy’s height relative to Ali into account, he might otherwise need to crouch to hit low profile foes like snakes or jump to reach flying ones. It’s unusual for an overhead action game to incorporate realistic positioning to this extent. Sadly, it doesn’t always pay off. Hitting airborne enemies remained a total crapshoot throughout my playthrough. Needless to say, they had no such trouble against me.

The weapon system is also offbeat for the time. Ali uses a basic dagger by default and picks up various swords, bows, and bombs along the way. In contrast to the dagger, the vast majority of these supplemental weapons are limited to a set number of uses before they break and disappear. This results in a constant inventory turnover as old gear falls apart and is replaced by fresh finds. Fans of 2017’s The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild will be right at home. While weapon deterioration in games has its detractors, I didn’t mind it in this case. Ali’s dagger is perfectly adequate most of the time, so it hardly feels like the end of the world whenever one of your swords breaks.

Satisfying as the brawling generally is, it’s the four spirit companions who join you along the way that truly define Beyond Oasis for me. Their many special powers have applications both in and out of combat. Take the fire spirit Efreet, who can incinerate the opposition with punches and explosive blasts as well as melt ice blocks and light torches to open up new paths. In other words, these guys double as potent weapons and mandatory puzzle solving tools. Progression in the later dungeons often requires you to swap back and forth between different helpers in quick succession.

Two factors complicate this process. The first is Ali’s magic meter, which will gradually deplete as long as a spirit is active. Second, summoning a given spirit to begin with isn’t as easy as picking a name or icon off a menu. Instead, you need to use the armlet on some appropriate portion of the environment. For Efreet, that might mean a bonfire or lava pool. For Dytto the water spirit, you obviously want to keep your eyes peeled for water. I was continually surprised by how much ingenuity went into implementing this mechanic. I didn’t discover until quite late in the game that you could call Dytto by using the armlet on slime enemies, presumably because they’re wet. You can even synchronize your armlet activation with the fiery explosion of one of your bombs to summon Efreet. Clever stuff!

The art and music are a baffling mixed bag. This is one of the best looking Genesis games I’ve seen overall, bursting with bright, bold colors and large, well-animated character sprites. The one downside to all this detail is that many non-boss enemies appear over and over in color-swapped variants throughout, again echoing beat-’em-ups of the period. As in those games, it represents an acceptable (if unfortunate) memory saving compromise. The music, of all places, is actually where Beyond Oasis falls flat. This soundtrack, while extensive for a cartridge game, is universally low energy and devoid of memorable hooks. It simply doesn’t fit with the swashbuckling tone established by the graphics and gameplay. Who would have guessed the great Yuzo Koshiro would underperform like this on a project so close to home? Certainly not I! The score was the one thing I came expecting to heap the most praise on. A rare misfire indeed.

Despite drab tunes and a few recurring gameplay snags (imprecise collision detection, the occasional awkward platform jumping section), Beyond Oasis makes for an easy recommendation. It introduces several welcome new ideas to the standard console dungeon crawling formula and looks great doing so. I also appreciate that the main quest isn’t padded out merely for the sake of extending total play time. It took me about seven hours to complete on my first go-around and I gather experience can bring that down significantly; a perfect length for a game of this kind. It’s right up there with Westone’s Monster World IV in my book when it comes to superlative action-adventure romps on Sega’s 16-bit machine. Too bad it’s only ever received one sequel in the form of 1996’s The Legend of Oasis for the Saturn.

Final score: Seventy-five golden camels out of a hundred. Strong as ten regular games, definitely!

Dragon Fighter (NES)

Well, last week’s review was a bit of a wash. Konami let me down for once with their dud of an RPG, Dragon Scroll. Fortunately, I can rely on another of my all-time favorite developers to deliver a dragon game worth playing. I’m talking about Natsume. Much of their early ’90s output flew under the radar initially, only to ascend to cult status years later within the classic gaming community. Most people with an abiding interest in the NES today hardly need to be told that Natsume greats like Power Blade and Shatterhand are worth seeking out. These gems are hidden no more.

Despite this, nobody ever seems to talk about my subject today, 1990’s Dragon Fighter. Why is that? It’s possible Dragon Fighter’s North American publisher, SOFEL, underproduced or undermarketed the game when they brought it out here in early 1992. Authentic copies command ridiculous prices at auction, which seems to lend credence to the notion that there just aren’t that many in circulation. Its cover art certainly didn’t do it any favors, either. The titular sword-swinging hero looks less like Conan and more like a musclebound version of David “Ross” Schwimmer from TV’s Friends. It’s pretty gross.

In all seriousness, I may never know for sure why Dragon Fighter appears destined to remain the forgotten Natsume NES title. I do know it’s a successful hybrid of two popular genres and a damn fine time overall, however. That’s good enough for me.

Your objective is to deliver the once peaceful land of Baljing from the oppression of the warlock Zabbaong. To this end, you assume the role of a warrior statue animated by the power of Baljing’s divine protector, the Dragon Spirit. Standard fantasy stuff, really. Kudos to Natsume for not trying to shoehorn a princess in there, though. There are a total of six stages the Fighter needs to survive before the final showdown with Zabbaong in the skies above Mount Gia. Each is wholly unique, with its own backgrounds, enemies, and music track. The designers resisted the obvious temptation to pad things out by recycling some of this content into “new” levels, leaving Dragon Fighter to stand as a fine example of a short game done right.

At first blush, Dragon Fighter presents as a typical hack-and-slash exercise. The first stage deposits you in an icy wasteland teeming with wolfmen and killer snowflakes. Naturally, you’ll start mowing them down with your primary weapon, a sword. As you do this, you’ll notice a gauge below your health bar gradually filling up. The manual dubs this the “metamorph meter” and once it’s at least 50% filled, it’ll start flashing. At any point thereafter, you can hold up on the directional pad while jumping to transform into a flying dragon. This not only powers you up, it instantly and seamlessly changes Dragon Fighter’s genre! Whereas before you were playing an action-platformer, you’re now operating in a Gradius style auto-scrolling shooter mode.

In addition to being unbound by gravity, your dragon will have one of three powerful breath attacks. These are a triple spread shot, a downward arcing fire bomb, and homing fireballs. The one you get depends on the current color of the Fighter’s armor. It starts out green (spread shot) and can be changed to red (bomb) or blue (homing) by picking up letter icons placed along your path. The Fighter’s human form can also fire off a charged projectile attack with a similar effect, although baddies defeated this way won’t count toward the metamorph meter. If you want my advice, stick to blue whenever possible. Your dragon’s one weakness is that it can only face (and shoot) to the right. Homing shots work wonders against anything that manages to get behind you.

Like all good things, your time as a dragon must end sooner or later. The metamorph meter steadily depletes with use and only kills with the sword can refill it. You’ll either be forced to revert to human form when you run out of meter or you’ll change back voluntarily before then (by pressing down and jump) in order to conserve it. The need to manage this precious resource adds a welcome degree of strategy to Dragon Fighter. Levels aren’t timed and they all feature endlessly respawning enemies. This means that if you want to progress slow and steady, always taking the time to keep your metamorph meter charged, you can. This is probably the best way for novices to approach the game, as you’re only given four lives with which to complete all six stages. More advanced players can skip the enemy farming and press ahead at a steadier pace. If you’re a real master, you can even try to tackle entire levels as a human. It’s always at least possible. This strategic cycling between the hero’s two forms allows Dragon Fighter to stand out some among the endless sea of 8-bit side-scrollers. The way each represents an entirely different play style without the game as a whole feeling disjointed is a testament to the quality design work Natsume was doing around this time.

Things are equally commendable on the audiovisual side. The starting area makes a great first impression with falling snow, glittering ice crystals, and a color-shifting aurora borealis in the background. Later ones showcase similarly impressive moving backdrops, such as waterfalls, massive machines, and the rushing clouds of Mount Gia. Sprites tend to be modest in size (in order to allow plenty of room for your dragon to fly around in), but make up for it by being quite well animated. Kouichi Yamanishi’s score utilizes the same superb in-house sound engine as his one for Shadow of the Ninja and the results are every bit as intense and memorable. Stage three’s theme, “Into the Depth,” ranks among the best ever composed for the hardware, in my opinion.

True to its pedigree, Dragon Fighter is a the epitome of a B-tier action game on the NES. It can’t quite match the intricate level design of a Castlevania, the blistering pace of a Ninja Gaiden, or the variety of a Mega Man, yet it commits no major design sins and has an identity and a charm all its own. While it hasn’t replaced Shatterhand as my personal favorite Natsume release, it’s very much on par with their Power Blade, Shadow of the Ninja, and S.C.A.T. for me. If you’re at all interested in exploring the system’s library beyond the realm of top ten lists, I encourage you to make time for Dragon Fighter. Provided you don’t have to shell out hundreds of dollars for the privilege, that is. I’d better be getting a real dragon for that kind of money.

Dragon Scroll: Yomigaerishi Maryuu (Famicom)

I can’t believe it! After almost three years spent plumbing the depths of Konami’s near-bottomless well of Japan-exclusive Famicom releases, I’ve finally found one I don’t enjoy at all! Coming off a twelve game hot streak that included the likes of Ai Senshi Nicol, Bio Miracle Bokutte Upa, and Gradius II, I was beginning to think the studio’s domestic output was above reproach throughout the ’80s. Not every such title I’ve covered to date was perfect, of course, but they’ve all made for a good time on balance. Enter Dragon Scroll: Yomigaerishi Maryuu (“Dragon Scroll: Resurrection of the Demon Dragon”), the deadly dull action RPG which manages to bungle or omit virtually everything that makes competent works of its kind so compelling. I didn’t know you had in it you, guys.

This is the story of two dragons, a benevolent gold one and a diabolic chrome one. They were worshiped by warring sects of magicians until the god Narume decided that magic was too powerful a force to be wielded by mortals and sealed away the eight magic books. This act removed magic from the world and caused the dragons to transform into statues and fall into an ageless slumber. All was well until a trio of thieves stumbled on the hiding place of the magic books and brought them back out into the world. This act awakened both dragons and now the chrome one is busy plunging the land into darkness. As the gold dragon in human form, it’s now your job to recover the books and slay your wicked counterpart so you can get back to bed already. I can relate.

The quest plays out from the 3/4 overhead perspective common to many similar games. Given this choice of viewpoint, the focus on gathering eight far-flung mystical objects, and the timing of its release, it’s tempting to think of Dragon Scroll as Konami’s answer to The Legend of Zelda. While this is obviously true to a degree, Dragon Scroll is also just one of many such answers to come flooding out the absurdly prolific company’s doors in 1987 alone. It shared shelf space with Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest, Esper Dream, Getsu Fūma Den, The Goonies II, and Majou Densetsu II: Daimashikyou Galious. All were fresh takes on the booming console action adventure/RPG sub-genres, for better or worse. Sadly, Dragon Scroll has a lot more in common with the listless and confounding Castlevania II than it does the lush, thrilling Getsu Fūma Den.

Dragon Scroll’s biggest innovation, for lack of a better word, is how it handles dialog. You spend most of your time in games like this either fighting generic enemies or hitting up helpful NPCs for hints and little morsels of plot, right? Well, what if you could do both at the same time? Crazy as it is, defeating certain monsters will cause text boxes to pop up that display the same sort of information you’d get from a friendly townsperson in a standard RPG. Why? How? The monster itself vanishes the instant you kill it, so who’s even supposed to be speaking? Were the developers too lazy to add in towns and villager sprites? I have no idea. I do know it’s one of the strangest design choices I’ve ever seen. It’s also obnoxious. With all the backtracking you need to do, you’re effectively forced to kill the same chatty foes over and over again.

Much worse is Dragon Scroll’s take on secret hunting. It’s another of those games like Milon’s Secret Castle where shooting up the scenery to make hidden goodies appear is paramount. The difference? It’s not only your regular attack that can uncover stuff. There are a couple magic items you find along the way which have the exact same effect. This makes for an ungodly amount of mindless “use everything on everything” gameplay. Imagine if it wasn’t just bombs that were able to reveal cliffside caves in Zelda. Instead, some required the candle, the bow, the magic wand, or even some combination thereof. Yes, in one especially egregious instance, you actually need to use two specific items back-to-back while standing in a certain spot and there was no in-game hint relating to this that I was able to track down. If you thought kneeling at the cliff with the red crystal equipped to progress in Simon’s Quest was bad, picture needing to do that and then immediately throw holy water at it. If you’re one of those people like me who prefers to play through games sans outside help, this one will drive you utterly batty, guaranteed.

For fairness’ sake, I should point out that I played Dragon Scroll with the English fan translation by KingMike, Eien Ni Hen, and FlashPV. I’m also unable to read its original instruction booklet. Thus, it’s possible some of these cryptic mechanics are better conveyed in the game’s native language. My personal limitations prevent me from speaking authoritatively on how these design elements were presented to audiences in Japan 32 years ago.

That said, there are plenty of shortcomings to go around here. Combat is stiff and monotonous. The overworld is barren and cramped. The indoor areas (I hesitate to call them dungeons) all look identical and contain nothing in the way of puzzles or other engaging features. Perhaps most disappointing of all, the promise inherent in playing as a mighty dragon is squandered by having the hero stuck as a human for over 99% of the game. He’s able to assume dragon form exactly once, when it’s time to face the final boss. Acceptable music and pixel art are about all Dragon Scroll has going for it. Neither are spectacular by Konami standards, however.

I really do wish I had something nice to say about poor Dragon Scroll. I simply wasn’t able to have any fun with it, though. It’s the proverbial unlucky thirteen; a resounding flop I’m all too happy to put behind me. Good thing I have an altogether more satisfying 8-bit dragon experience waiting in the scaly wings….

Mega Man 5 (NES)

Mega Man 5? Have I really reviewed five of these suckers already? That seems impressive somehow…until I remember it’s not even 4% of the sprawling extended franchise. Guess I won’t be finished with this little blue bugger anytime soon.

This installment represents uncharted territory for me. It’s the first of the six NES Mega Man outings I never played back around the time of its debut. Like most Nintendo kids in 1992, I was spending most of my time deep diving into everything the new Super Nintendo had to offer. Still, I have high hopes for this one. Revisiting Mega Man 4 proved to be a great time. I found it to be significantly more polished and better paced than the fan favorite third game. Let’s see if Capcom was able to maintain that same level of quality here.

Mega Man is, of course, the brave robot boy who protects the world of the future from the countless schemes of the megalomaniacal Dr. Wily. Most games after the third make a feeble stab at tricking players into believing a different villain is behind all the mayhem, only to reveal to the shock and awe of absolutely no one that it was really old Wily pulling the strings all along. This time, Mega Man’s own brother, Proto Man, goes rogue and kidnaps their mutual creator, Dr. Light. Uncovering the truth behind this apparent heel turn requires Mega Man to do the exact same thing he always does: Defeat eight robot masters in any order, take all their special weapons, and then storm Wily’s ridiculous skull-shaped headquarters with his new arsenal in tow.

By 1992, most players had a pretty good idea what they were in for with a new Mega Man title. This goes for the plot, the mechanics, the cartoony graphics, the rocking soundtrack, everything! These are incredibly consistent games, almost to a fault. That’s why when it comes to assessing Mega Man 5, I’m going to focus on the three key elements which are guaranteed to vary meaningfully between entries: The level design, the boss fights, and the various special weapons and tools Mega Man acquires.

The stages themselves are a real treat. Gravity Man’s has you fighting on the ceiling thanks to a gravity flipping gimmick similar to the ones seen in the previous year’s Metal Storm and Shatterhand. Charge Man’s deftly uses the visuals and sound to sell the idea that you’re in a moving train. Most compelling of all is Wave Man’s, which features the series’ first true vehicle segment. Mega Man pilots a jet ski here, a year before Mega Man X introduced ride armors. On the downside, Stone Man’s suffers from the same generic cave syndrome that’s plagued nearly all stone/rock-themed masters over the years and Crystal Man’s, pretty as it is, has too much stop and go for my taste. For the most part, though, these are some fun areas to blast through and a high point of Mega Man 5.

On the other hand, the robot masters themselves largely fail to impress. They do showcase some neat ideas here and there, such as Gyro Man’s tendency to hide in the billowing clouds filling his arena. Despite this, they were all simple to take down and I rarely felt like I needed to exploit their individual weapon weaknesses to come out on top. Comparatively basic patterns and modest damage output make them less of a threat than their Mega Man 3 or 4 counterparts. This is compounded by the increased availability of extra lives and energy tanks this time around. While difficulty preferences are obviously subjective, I think most gamers would expect and desire more than token resistance from these guys.

Speaking of wanting more, the special weapons in Mega Man 5 are a sorry lot. Only the steerable Gyro Blade and screen clearing Gravity Hold saw regular use during my playthrough. The rest are either too weak or too situational to bother with. This is doubly true since Mega Man retains his Mega Buster charge attack and it’s arguably stronger than ever. It ramps up to full power quicker and the shot itself has a larger area of effect. The designers attempted to balance this out somewhat by having the charge be lost whenever Mega Man sustains damage. In my experience, this doesn’t quite offset the improved fire rate. It was debatable whether or not the charge shot was the best weapon in Mega Man 4. Given the competition here, there can be no doubt.

Or can there? Although he’s presented as more of a side character than anything else, there is one optional weapon available in the form of Beat the robot bird. Unlocking him requires you to collect eight letter icons, one in each of the robot master levels. I recommend you put in the effort because Beat, well, beats ass. When active, he’ll automatically zip around the screen seeking out enemies and dealing heavy touch damage to them. He can make mincemeat of almost anything in his path, including the bosses in the final stretch of the game. Dr. Wily’s ultimate war machine? Easily reduced to scrap by a good pecking. Enjoy this avenging avian while you can. He’s toned down considerably in all his future appearances.

Perhaps it’s fitting that I’m reviewing Mega Man 5 the week after Thanksgiving, as it comes across like a plate of reheated digital leftovers. It features some creative stage designs and I did enjoy Beat the bird, both as a handy bonus item and an adorable addition to the greater Mega Man universe. Beyond that, it offers little in the way of new ideas and a mediocre at best selection of robot masters and special weapons. As with virtually  anything cast from the classic Mega Man mold, it’s a cut above the average action-platformer and remains well worth playing for fans of the genre. I certainly don’t regret giving it go. In the narrower context of its own legendary series, however, it’s simply a poor man’s Mega Man 4. You can really sense the developer fatigue setting in with this one. With a mere eleven months between the two releases, I reckon that should come as no surprise. These games may be all about tireless robots, but the teams behind them are all too human.