Street Fighter II: The World Warrior (Arcade)

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I still got it!

I happened to be out recently at Jupiter, one of the many local arcades the Seattle area is blessed with, and I couldn’t resist having a go at their original Street Fighter II machine. This is the very first iteration of the game from 1991, subtitled The World Warrior.

Street Fighter II is obviously one of the best-known and most important games ever made, so I won’t really be attempting to review it in full. There’s just no need. This is more of a personal retrospective than anything else.

It’s tough to overemphasize what an instantly memorable title this was at the time. The fact that I still recall exactly where I was when I first laid eyes on a cabinet and how my first game went attests to that. I was at the Aladdin’s Castle arcade inside the Redlands Mall in Redlands, California. I picked Blanka (he looked too weird not to) and promptly had my yellow ass handed to me by Ken since I had no idea what I was doing. That first quarter may not have gotten me very far, but the game had its hooks in me and there would be many more to follow.

Street Fighter II undoubtedly looked and sounded bleeding edge for the time. More importantly, though, no arcade game before it had ever offered players such a varied experience. The eight playable fighters each had dozens of unique moves to learn and the interactions between them all needed to be studied as well. It wasn’t enough to just learn all the attacks for your character, you also had to know what every other character could do and how to shut them down with the tools at your disposal. As the first modern fighting game, the sheer depth was intoxicating. It made the popular beat-’em-up games of the time like Final Fight and Golden Axe look like baby toys. Of course, it’s easy in retrospect to say that these are different types of game entirely, but we didn’t have much else to compare World Warrior to at the time. Like most of my peers, I had never played the original (rather terrible) Street Fighter from 1987. Lucky us.

Then there was the elusive boss characters: Balrog, Vega, Sagat, and M. Bison. These four were shrouded in mystery since they weren’t selectable by players in the original build of the game and didn’t even show their faces at all until you’d won seven consecutive fights in single player mode. We speculated endlessly about non-existent ways to play as the bosses, what the M in M. Bison stood for (“Major” was the prevailing opinion due to his military uniform), and whether or not this “Sheng Long” that Ryu talked about was a secret fifth boss. The Internet has long since demystified gaming and generations after my own will never know what it’s like to navigate a maze of schoolyard rumor, myth, and bullshit surrounding a popular title. It’s a pity. Without easy access to every cold, hard fact, anything was possible. The mystique made the game seem like more than a game. It also sold a ton of magazines and strategy guides.

The first home release for the Super Nintendo was the largest game released for the console up to that time (16 megabits!) and the very definition of a system seller. Its status as a console exclusive for over a year made it the equivalent of a tactical nuclear strike in the ongoing “Nintendo versus Sega” debate. When the discussion inevitably progressed to “Yeah, well Genesis doesn’t even have Street Fighter,” it was check and mate. I played the SNES version to death and spent almost as much time futilely attempting to play as the boss characters by experimenting with Game Genie codes. Sadly, this was beyond the power of simple hex editing and I would have to wait a year for the home port of the Turbo revision to come out. When it did, I gladly snapped it up, too. These days, the idea of paying full retail price just to have four extra characters in a fighting game would be absurd, but we were all lining up for the privilege at the time. These weren’t just any four characters, these were the bosses. Hell, I’d have probably shelled out the $60 just for my main man Bison.

World Warrior is by far the slowest, glitchiest, and least full-featured of all Street Fighter II’s many, many updates and revisions. It also remains a captivating game to this very day. The art is still gorgeous, the music is still catchy, and character roster is still varied and appealing. It even has that classic deep and booming original fight announcer voice, before they replaced it with the obnoxious higher-pitched one in Super Street Fighter II. For anyone who remembers arcade gaming in the early 90s, it’s ageless gaming comfort food. Money well spent, from that very first quarter to this most recent one.

Now go home and be a family man!

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Super Mario Bros. 2 (NES/Super Nintendo)

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Despite being on vacation, I still got a little road trip gaming in this last weekend. It’s been a long time since I really gave this one a go but it’s amazing how fresh in my memory it remains and how quickly I’m still able to zip through it.

I’m not really going to do a whole review on Super Mario 2, since it is one of the best selling and most ubiquitous games ever made. I also won’t go into its full history: How it started out as an unrelated game called Doki Doki Panic and was modified to include Mario and friends because Nintendo was concerned that the original Super Mario 2 released in Japan was too hard for non-Japanese gamers, and so forth. All this has been covered in so much detail so many times before.

What I will say is that I love this game. It was the subject of a lavish writeup in the very first issue of Nintendo Power magazine. I received that first issue in the mail for free back in 1988 on account of previously subscribing to the Nintendo Fun Club newsletter, which NP was intended to replace. I poured over every page of this issue for months before I actually played the game, so I guess I was just programmed to love it. Yay, corporate propaganda!

Brainwashing aside, SMB2 is just a fabulous game. The vibrant colors, surreal landscapes, bouncy music, and well-rendered character sprites all put the original to shame, and while it clearly played differently, with an emphasis on picking up and throwing objects and enemies instead of stomping and shooting fireballs, I was used to different. I first controlled Mario back in Donkey Kong, which was nothing like the next game he was playable in, 1983’s Mario Bros., which was in turn nothing like 1985’s Super Mario Bros., and so on. The way you defeated enemies was completely different each time in those games, so why not again here? Shades of my Zelda 2 review here but I really miss the Nintendo that wasn’t afraid to go back to the drawing board for each new game in a series. And no, controller gimmicks don’t count.

Perhaps most ingenious of all, SMB2 gave you four playable characters to experiment with, each with their own unique style of jumping, running, and lifting objects. Not that I ever wanted to be anyone other than Luigi. Once I got a handle on the sort of insane mobility his superpowered jumps allowed for, the other three just felt hobbled. Princess Toadstool (yes, Toadstool not Peach; I’m a rebel) gets talked up a lot, but she doesn’t come close to matching the green machine’s jump distances horizontally or vertically and she’s slower to pick stuff up, too. Make mine Weegee.

At the end of the day, the SMB2 we got over here is a superior game to the Japanese original in virtually every way. It’s got more polish, more charm, and way more variety. The only thing that the Japanese sequel (known as The Lost Levels) can offer is a high degree of difficulty. Other than that, it barely qualifies as a sequel at all and is more like a lazily-made expansion pack of new levels for the first SMB.

So it seems that cynically targeting ads at children works and sometimes a little bit of condescending cultural chauvinism can be a good thing.

Wow. Those are actually pretty terrible lessons for me to end on. Let me try that again…

…Uh, yay, Luigi!