GG Aleste (Game Gear)

Christmas already? Where has the time gone? Not that I can complain. Another Christmas means another dip into the back catalog of my favorite classic shooting game developer, Compile. In fact, my recent decision to start covering the occasional Sega Game Gear title was largely due to two of my favorite franchises, Sega’s own Shinobi and Compile’s Aleste, having multiple unique installments on the platform. So it was inevitable, really.

GG Aleste was released exclusively in Japan in 1991 and stars none other than Ellinor Waizen (aka Terri), the very same ace pilot who saved the day in M.U.S.H.A. the year previous. Except technically not, since the Ellinor seen here is apparently supposed to be an alternate universe version of the character for . . . some reason. I have no clue why a simple shooter plot calls for this sort of arcane distinction. In any case, the bottom line is that this Ellinor is out to repel an invasion by a sinister alien power known as Moon Child.

Cramming all the furious vertical shooting action that defines Aleste onto a 160 × 144 pixel Game Gear screen was a tall order, doubly so when you factor in the blurring and ghosting present on authentic hardware. Miracle workers that they were, Compile largely nailed it. GG Aleste’s eight stages amount to a minimum thirty minute playthrough. Though a tad shorter than home console contemporaries like Gun-Nac and Space Megaforce, that’s still quite respectable for a handheld offering.

Ellinor’s arsenal is similarly robust. Her GG (Galvanic Gunner) craft comes equipped with the usual straight shot that can be upgraded by collecting the “power chips” that rain down the screen when certain carrier ships are destroyed. Supplementing it are a total of six series staple secondary weapons. The laser (L), homing (H), wave (W), spread (S), defense shield (D), and napalm (N) can all have their strength boosted to a maximum level of four by collecting P icons. Beyond extra firepower, many secondary weapons have the added benefit of destroying enemy bullets. Although one-hit deaths are the rule, dying costs you just one level of gun power. You won’t lose your loadout when continuing, either, which is uncommonly generous for the genre.

That’s all there is to tell as far as mechanics go. The team behind GG Aleste didn’t reinvent any wheels, opting instead to deliver the most frantic pure dodge and shoot experience the limited screen real estate would allow. Unfortunately, that one caveat is a doozy. The usual Compile quality hallmarks are all present, but their overall effect is somewhat muted. Everything moves slightly slower than it does in the console Aleste entries, and that’s before the frequent performance-driven slowdown kicks in. Enemy swarms and bullet patterns are less dense as well. Come expecting M.U.S.H.A.-like intensity and you’re bound to be at least a little disappointed.

For what it is, though, I can only deem GG Aleste a smashing success. It was almost certainly the finest vertical shooter available for any handheld system circa 1991. Even scaled down, the core gameplay dynamic of smoothly zipping around the screen mowing down robo-aliens with a bevy of flashy superweapons is timeless. Superb chiptunes further heighten the mood while unlimited continues keep the chaos broadly accessible on both difficulty settings. Basic as it is, it was solid enough to be included in M2’s Aleste Collection for PlayStation 4 and Nintendo Switch in 2020, along with an original sequel, GG Aleste 3. A brand new 8-bit Aleste game in 2020? I couldn’t have come up with a better idea myself.

On that note, it’s time to draw the curtain on another remarkable year of vintage gaming discovery. I hope to welcome you back in 2023. Until then: Merry Alestemas, and Compile bless us, every one!

Midnight Resistance (Genesis)

Midnight Resistance is proof positive that looks can be misleading. Here you have a side-view run-and-gun starring a beefy commando dude capable of firing his arsenal of guns (which includes a flamethrower and spread shot) in a total of eight directions as he endeavors to take down a motley mix of military grunts and grotesque space aliens. That clinches it, right? This is Data East’s attempt to ride Konami’s coattails with a Contra knockoff. Oh, but not so fast! Because the second you actually lay hands on the controls, you’ll discover that the proof is in the playing.

While the original 1989 arcade release of Midnight Resistance did undoubtedly take some of its cues from Contra, it’s primarily a pseudo-sequel to Data East’s own 1987 overhead run-and-gun Heavy Barrel. Like Heavy Barrel, Midnight Resistance features a custom rotating joystick similar to the ones designed for SNK’s Ikari Warriors and Capcom’s Forgotten Worlds. Using the stick as a lever moves the character and rotating it adjusts his angle of fire. This allows for moving in one direction while simultaneously shooting in an entirely different one, a technique necessary for survival in Midnight Resistance.

Of course, there was no replicating this input method when ISCO and Opera House ported Midnight Resistance to the Genesis in 1991. The default arrangement now has you aiming your gun with the directional pad and then locking it in place as needed with the B button. Meanwhile, the A button toggles continuous shooting on and off. It works fairly well once you’re used to it. Just be forewarned that the adjustment period can be pretty awkward as you struggle to suppress those ingrained Contra instincts. The slightly clunkier control scheme is one of only two substantial cutbacks in this port, the other being the loss of two-player support.

What cursory backstory we get in the manual centers on our hero, Johnny Ford, rescuing his kidnapped family from a monstrous extraterrestrial drug lord that some unspecified prog rock fan on the development team decided to christen King Crimson. Silly, sure, but I reckon the same era gave us far less exciting games about saying no to drugs. I’m looking at you, Wally Bear.

Johnny’s righteous rampage plays out across a total of nine stages. Though this may have you thinking that you’re in for quite the journey, I should point out that levels in Midnight Resistance are notably short. Some can be completed in under a minute relatively easily. All told, you can blaze through this one in less than twenty minutes once you’ve commited it to memory. That said, you at least get a few impressive boss encounters along the way. Seeing Johnny take on a multi-screen battleship or entire squadron of fighter jets single-handedly definitely helps compensate for the extreme brevity.

Although the basics of running, jumping, and blasting are straightforward enough, Midnight Resistance does have one more Heavy Barrel-inspired trick up its sleeve when it comes to power-ups. Instead of picking up new weapons for free in the field, Johnny instead collects the keys left behind by specific red-clad enemy soldiers. These keys can then be used between stages to access locked containers holding various weapon upgrades. The contents of these lockers and the number of keys required to open each one appear to be randomized on every new playthrough. If you should stumble across a great deal (such as an extra life for a mere two keys), I recommend you grab it while you can. One-hit deaths are in effect and will cause Johnny to drop both his weapons and stock of keys. He can usually respawn in time to recollect them, thankfully, unless they happen to land off the edge of the screen. This mechanic even factors into the ending, since reaching the room where your family members are held captive without a full complement of keys means that some of them will have to be left behind to die. Brutal, yet also oddly amusing in the context of what’s otherwise such a lightweight exercise. Sucks to be you, granny! I guess you can always count on a Data East production to skew a bit weird around the edges.

As a scaled-down conversion of an arcade title that wasn’t especially good-looking in the first place, the Genesis Midnight Resistance won’t be winning any beauty prizes. Backgrounds in particular are sparse and underdetailed, little more than fields of solid black in some cases. On the flip side, Hitoshi Sakimoto’s rearranged take on the musical score is majestic. The opening stage theme, “Flood of Power,” lives up to its name and then some. It’s raw, concentrated one man army energy and one of the system’s defining tracks in my book.

On balance, I can say I enjoyed my time with Midnight Resistance. It’s certainly far from perfect. The controls take getting used to, the level design is serviceable at best, and the visuals are borderline poor by 16-bit standards. Despite being nowhere near as technically sophisticated as any given Contra outing from the period, however, it nonetheless refects an innate understanding of the over-the-top spectacle that makes this genre work. In that regard, it makes an excellent companion piece to another contemporary Data East release, Bloody Wolf. Sometimes the the heart of a tiger and a soundtrack for the ages are all it takes to get in my good graces. Go, Johnny, go!

Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars (Super Nintendo)

Speak the words “Square” and “Dream Time” and many gamers’ thoughts will instantly turn to the seminal Square-Enix collaboration Chrono Trigger. With good reason, of course. It’s not considered one of the finest RPGs of all time for nothing. A year later in 1996, however, Square partnered up again. This time it was with none other than Nintendo themselves to bring us the brilliant Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars, a title every bit as enjoyable as Chrono Trigger and arguably more influential as well.

Influential? Sure! Mario RPG marks the first instance of characters from the ongoing Super Mario franchise being given any substantial in-game dialog or characterization. Unless you’re inclined to count such sideshow ephemera as Mario Teaches Typing or Hotel Mario, that is, and I’m afraid we simply can’t be friends in that case. Sorry. Anyway, seeing such series staples as Bowser and Princess Toadstool (she wouldn’t be called Peach here in North America until Mario 64) acting out cute little scenes together was a delight at the time of this game’s release and set the tone for all of the comedic RPG Mario outings to follow. More on that later, though.

Mario RPG immediately sets the mood by brazenly subverting the saga’s default narrative. It begins where the typical platforming installments ends: With Mario storming Bowser’s lair to rescue the Princess, a feat he easily accomplishes mere minutes later. That’s when a titanic living sword, harbinger of the real villains, the Smithy Gang, plunges out of the sky and into Bowser’s stronghold, stealing away Mario’s moment of triumph and signifying that the true quest has only begun. The road to recovering the seven enchanted stars dislodged from the sky by Smithy and company is a long one and Mario can’t walk it alone. Fighting at his side are Mallow, a young “tadpole” who curiously resembles nothing of the sort, and Geno, a mysterious emissary from the stars, along with a few familiar faces. All told, this setup amounts to a fairly straightforward scavenger hunt plot. You shouldn’t expect anything in the way of hard-hitting drama or shocking twists, just twenty hours or so of agreeable cartoon mayhem, give or take.

While Mario RPG’s storytelling is in no way deep, bear in mind that this was never the point. The point was to keep players smiling and here Square really knocked it out of the park. Gags like silent protagonist Mario furiously pantomiming in an effort to recap important plot points or Bowser becoming so apoplectic that he lapses into haiku almost always pay off. In terms of humor that consistently works, I don’t hesitate to champion Mario RPG alongside EarthBound and The Legend of the Mystical Ninja as one of the funniest console games of its generation.

The core gameplay is similarly short on complexity and long on personality. Battles are turn-based and menu-driven, although they’re not random. Enemies are visible during exploration and can usually be avoided with a well-timed dash or jump. Yes, jump! It wouldn’t be Mario without a little platforming, would it? Fortunately, the developers were smart enough to not punish missed jumps via death pits or other serious hazards. The most common application of the move is to reveal hidden treasure boxes hanging invisibly overhead. Thank goodness, because the isometric viewpoint the game employs can sometimes make precision leaps more difficult than they appear at first glance. It could have gotten real frustrating real quick if the stakes were higher.

Once you do get into a fight, victory is mainly a matter of using physical and special attacks to whittle down the enemy’s hit points before they can do the same to you. Special moves draw on the party’s limited supply of FP, Flower Points, which stand in for the Magic Points seen in other fantasy RPGs. The sole innovation is the timed hit system. Basically, you have a split-second window during the windup animation of a character’s attack where you can tap the button a second time and cause a more damaging version of that attack to come out. It also works when you’re on defense. By synchronizing your button press with the foe’s swing, damage can be reduced significantly. Once you get the feel of it, it becomes second nature. It would be an exaggeration to claim that the jumping and timed hits alone are sufficient to make this a true action RPG. That said, they do achieve their intended goal of keeping players actively engaged during even the most routine exploration and combat segments.

As with Chrono Trigger, I could all too easily drone on for paragraph after paragraph detailing the myriad large and small flourishes that collectively make this one singularly charming experience. The combined effect of the spot-on humor, brisk pacing, and simple, yet robust mechanics is pure joyous elegance. It’s gorgeous, too, owing to the use of Donkey Kong Country-esque pre-rendered assets. This low-fi downscaling process endows characters and backgrounds alike with an almost tactile claymation-like texture that ironically holds up far better than actual real-time 3-D graphics of the period. Did I mention a soundtrack by the incomparable Yoko Shimomura? Super Mario RPG is one of those rare works that goes from strength to strength in a manner I can’t bring myself to so much as feign objectivity around. Play it.

Loathe as I am to end on a sad note, we can’t overlook that 1996 also marked the acrimonious end of Nintendo and Square’s roughly decade-long alliance. The fallout over Nintendo’s decision to stick with archaic and pricey low-capacity ROM cartridges for their upcoming Nintendo 64 prompted Square to jump ship and embrace the CD-ROM future as exemplified by Sony’s PlayStation. Frankly, who could blame them? It’s nigh-impossible to imagine the enduring critical and commercial phenomenon that is 1997’s Final Fantasy VII originating on any other contemporary format, after all. Business is business and Square ultimately returned to the fold in order to capitalize on the popularity of the Game Boy Advance in the early 2000s. Still, this low point in relations between the two companies is what led Nintendo to turn development on Mario RPG’s successor, Paper Mario, over to Intelligent Systems instead. Paper Mario was a success in its own right, but as Square (now Square Enix) still retains ownership of Mallow, Geno, Smithy, and every other character created expressly for Mario RPG, none of them have ever resurfaced in any official capacity. There are certainly fans out there who would give their eyeteeth for a direct Mario RPG sequel. I know because I’m one of them. Are there enough of us to make the required payouts good sense from a corporate finance perspective? Let’s just say I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.

Isolated Warrior (NES)

As I’ve delved deeper and deeper into the NES library, my admiration for previously unknown development studio KID (Kindle Imagine Develop) has only increased. Whether we’re talking G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero, Kick Master, Burai Fighter, or my subject today, 1991’s Isolated Warrior, their titles have a grandiose, off-kilter flair all their own. Visually, there was the bright, borderline eye-searing house art style. I can recognize a KID joint by those lime greens, neon pinks, and blazing magentas alone at this point. Above and beyond that, however, was their consistent focus on delivering non-stop action gameplay as ambitious in its own way as anything the major league third parties were putting out and often more experimental to boot. Were KID’s efforts anywhere near as technically polished as those of, say, Capcom or Konami? Hell, no! What they could boast was ideas in spades. That, and a palpable enthusiasm for the medium and its possibilities.

A force of seemingly unstoppable aliens has invaded the planet Pan. The situation is so bad that the native population, to include the military, is in the midst of a total evacuation. When all hope seems lost, one man refuses to back down. Captain Max Maverick instead picks up his laser gun and marches off to take the fight to the enemy as a true isolated warrior. He does it in an isometric perspective, too, meaning that the game’s moniker harkens back to Sega’s classic shooter Zaxxon, which was similarly named for its then novel axonometric view. Alas, Isolated Warrior’s Japanese release, Max Warrior: Martial Law Planet, is bereft of such cheeky wordplay.

In terms of the action proper, Isolated Warrior seeks to split the difference between a run-and-gun platformer and an auto-scrolling shooter. The screen moves along of its own accord as Max strides forward (or rides forward, in the infrequent hovercraft and motorcycle segments) blasting oncoming waves of extraterrestrials and grabbing the assorted power-ups left behind in their wakes. As if that wasn’t enough to keep tabs on, he’ll also need to mind the terrain. Every one of the seven stages has some sort of ground-based hazard to avoid, be it yawning chasms, caustic slime, or electrified flooring. It’s here that Max’s ability to jump is especially crucial, although it has several other applications as well. Most enemies and their projectiles are considered to exist on ground level, making the jump a handy dodge maneuver, and Max’s potent limited-use bomb attacks can only be triggered in the air.

Max’s main gun has two settings, dubbed Focusing and Spreading. In typical shooter fashion, the narrow Focusing beam deals great damage and is ideal for taking down bosses, while the weaker Spreading beam allows for some measure of crowd control. The two modes upgrade independently and only the equipped one is depowered upon death. In fact, if you’re quick enough, there’s a split second post-death before the screen fades to black when you can still press Select to swap weapons and hopefully save a favorite for your next life. I encourage you to make best use of this, since Isolated Warrior can suffer from a bit of the old “Gradius syndrome,” where losing all your weapon power and having to rebuild from a late game checkpoint can be murder. Bombs work much the same, firing off in more directions at once as their power level increases and losing power with each life lost. Rounding out the arsenal are partial health bar refills (no one-hit deaths here, barring pitfalls), speed increases, a massively helpful energy shield that can absorb five hits, and some exceedingly rare 1-Ups.

You’ll need all these goodies, because Isolated Warrior will absolutely give NES veterans a run for their money. The opening two areas are relatively tame, but by the time you reach stage three’s Freudian nightmare of a floating head boss, you’ll need a combination of keen pattern recognition and spot-on reflexes to make it through unscathed. You can’t even rely on the unlimited continues and password system to carry you to the finale, as the seventh stage is restricted to those who can manage to clear the first six without continuing or inputting a password! If you want to fight the true final boss and see the real ending, you’re expected to buckle down and do it legit. I balked at this initially and anticipated writing this review without fully completing the game. After sleeping on it, though, I decided to throw Isolated Warrior back on and give it one last go. I ended up pushing all the way to stage seven on a single life and finished it shortly thereafter. It’s amazing what old-fashioned level memorization followed by a good night’s sleep can do.

In stark contrast to Brandish for the Super Nintendo, Isolated Warrior executes its unorthodox viewpoint surprisingly well. That’s not to say perfectly, of course. The limitations of an 8-bit isometric projection can make gauging Max’s height relative to flying foes more difficult than it should be, and air-to-air combat is sometimes best avoided as a result. Worse, there’s an invisible wall situated roughly three quarters of the way up the screen that will cut jumps short and almost certainly lead to multiple cheap falling deaths before a new player fully acclimates to it. Still, the engine as a whole is impressive for the hardware and Isolated Warrior itself quite unlike any other NES game I’ve played. In other words, this is quintessential KID: Strange, tough, and highly recommended.

Brandish (Super Nintendo)

Brandish is my pick for the strangest action RPG on the Super Nintendo. That’s hardly what I anticipated going in, since nothing about its plot, gameplay goals, or developer pedigree hint that you’re about to be treated to something that arguably exceeds the slapstick Super Ninja Boy in sheer bizzaro factor. No, Brandish comes by its weirdness the last way you’d expect: Via a dizzying viewpoint gimmick I’m amazed ever made it out of the brainstorming phase.

Picture a typical overhead view fantasy dungeon crawler akin to Ys. Roam through mazes, slash up monsters to earn experience, grab keys and treasure, and keep an eye peeled for the all-important staircase to the next floor. Now, imagine that your character is permanently facing “up,” toward the top of the screen. Whenever you need to change direction, you don’t turn him, you turn everything else around him. The walls, the enemies, everything. And you don’t turn it smoothly like you would in, say, the bonus stages of Contra III, but in jarringly instantaneous 90-degree jumps. It’s awkward, disorienting, and too plain looking to come off flashy or cool. Worst of all, it’s truly needless, since it doesn’t lead to any noteworthy innovations on the level design or action fronts. The entire concept is harebrained in the extreme and you can find no shortage of other complaints about it online. Some allege that brushes with Brandish left them battling motion sickness, if you can believe that. Assuming you can keep your lunch down long enough to adapt, however, you may just discover one oddly addictive adventure.

The similarity I mentioned to the more famous Ys series is no coincidence, as Brandish also got its start as a Japanese home computer release by Nihon Falcom. The original PC-9801 and FM Towns versions debuted in 1991, with this Koei-produced port arriving three years later. Brandish follows silent protagonist Varik (Ares in Japan), a swordsman who’s being pursued for crimes unknown by Alexis (aka Dela), a scantily-clad bounty hunter sorceress. The two battle on the rim of a giant crater and both wind up falling in. As it turns out, this crater is home to the crumbling remains of a massive ancient city that was plunged underground by a magical cataclysm brought on by its wicked king. Varik must now endure a grueling 41-story climb back to the surface, weathering all manner of native hazards and staying one step ahead of Alexis to boot.

After the introductory cut scenes establishing all this wrap up, it’s just you and the dungeon. Although there are a handful of scattered NPCs to chat with, mostly merchants who’ve somehow managed to set up thriving business concerns in the bowels of a subterranean ruin, there are no traditional RPG towns or the like. It’s all one sprawling interconnected labyrinth filled with baddies, traps, and occasional secret passages concealed behind crumbling or illusory walls. Once every level or so, you’ll encounter a special puzzle room. These typically challenge you to press switches in a specific order, navigate a gauntlet of invisible teleportation tiles, or complete some other slightly more cerebral than usual task to move on. Bosses show up every five to ten levels and aren’t too spectacular or difficult for the most part. Many of them return later on as regular enemies.

Seeing as this is an RPG, Varik’s abilities don’t remain static. Achieving new experience levels increases his maximum health and magic points. His physical and magical damage outputs are based on how often you utilize those attack forms. Enemy strengths and weaknesses vary, so my advice would be to keep both as even as possible throughout. You certainly wouldn’t want to neglect your sword arm only to then be confronted by a powerful foe immune to magic. Oh, and be sure to acquire the Heal and Warp spells as soon as you possibly can. Believe me, you won’t regret it.

Melee combat is a serviceable enough affair, provided you’ve adjusted to the aforementioned kooky movement. One noteworthy wrinkle is that most swords you’ll find are limited to a set number of swings before they’ll permanently break. If that sounds awful, I wouldn’t fret. Fact is, you come across so many blades, along with “hardening potions” (available by prescription only, I’m sure) to repair them, that running out of armaments is never a serious concern. If worse comes to worse, there are a handful of unbreakable swords in the game. They’re not the strongest, but they get the job done.  

With so much territory to cover and danger lurking around every corner, you’ll be pleased to know that Brandish is remarkably forgiving on the whole. You can save your progress any place, any time in the pause menu, and there’s an “emergency escape” option included to prevent you from trapping yourself if you happen to do so at an especially inopportune moment. Healing from damage is a cinch, too. Heal Magic is wonderfully efficient, you’re practically showered in health potions, and if all that somehow fails, you can always crawl into an enemy-free corner and engage rest mode to sleep it off. Anything to take some of the edge off that steep up-front learning curve is welcome in my book.

If I had to summarize Brandish in a single word, it’d be rough. The baffling decision to make simply moving your character the game’s primary challenge utterly fails to pay off. There’s effectively no story progression outside of the opening and closing cut scenes. Graphics are notably weak by the standards of the platform circa 1994 and the music, while fine in small doses, tends to get looped mercilessly for hours on end. I wouldn’t blame anyone for throwing in the towel after being subjected to ten back-to-back areas built from the same drab tan tiles and accompanied by the same droning song. When it came down to it, though, I didn’t throw in that towel. Instead, I acclimated to the wonky movement, made peace with the repetitive environments, and rode a mostly comfortable “just one more floor” groove all the way to the finish line. It feels like a stretch to call this one good, or even underrated, yet I won’t deny it worked on me. It successfully induced and then scratched that old school Pavlovian dungeon crawl itch. I can’t be alone in that, seeing as how it ultimately spawned a respectable three sequels and a 2009 PSP remake that’s widely held to be a vast improvement across the board. Perhaps I’ll check some of them out someday. I can’t imagine they get rougher than this.