22 June, 2009
Shin Megami Tensei 4-Panel Gag Battle Part 1
08 June, 2009
Black Frost x1 appears!
01 June, 2009
Trio the Punch - Never Forget Me...
Released: 1989
Published by: Data East
Genre: Beat-em-up
Platform: Arcade, ported to PS2
The "trio" in the name presumably comes from the fact that the player is given a choice of three main characters to play as. I don't recall names ever being given for these characters, so for lack of better ones I've creatively decided to call them "Ninja Guy", "Sword Guy", and "Punch Guy". While Ninja Guy has the useful ability of being able to turn into a tree and not move for a little while after being hit, and Sword Guy has the best range for his attacks and also the power of looking like Conan the Barbarian, I decided to play as Punch Guy because he looks like a pretty cool dude and also he has sweet Wolverine claws as an upgraded weapon. This would later turn out to be a horrible choice, little did I know!
Wait no Weebles wobble but they DON'T fall down ugh this is all wrong :(
Trio the Punch features a whopping 35 levels and zero plot. Between levels you're occasionally given a message to introduce the next stage or appraise your performance in the last one, my favourites being "the moon is your friend" and "you are the best in the world." They started to get sassy as I progressed in the game, telling me "that was okay" when I beat a particularly tough stage. There's no particular rhyme or reason to the order of the stages or the bosses in Trio the Punch; one moment you'll be in a graveyard, the next in a desert, the next in a sewer. One of my favourites was the circus stage, featuring a boss that looked suspiciously like Col. Sanders. Well, technically the boss was the evil chicken that burst out of Col. Sanders Alien-style, but you get the idea. Another highlight is very near the beginning of the game, in which you fight a pink sheep. Whether you win or lose, the words "CURSE YOU" appear at the top of the screen and you'll spend the next level as a sheep yourself. Not much of a curse considering the sheep is much easier to play as than any of the real characters.
Michelangelo's Dying Slave is really delighted that you have so many continues. Just look at that happy smile!
At the end of every level you beat, an old kung fu master gives you a roulette wheel to spin that awards (or punishes) you with whatever you land on. Sometimes it's an upgraded weapon or a new special move, and sometimes it's a downgrade or even just a chance to switch characters. Levels are so short that the whole thing is pretty meaningless, though I did find that I landed on good things more often than not. Unfortunately for Punch Guy, his best weapon is a really really powerful punch that sends you sliding across the screen to hit multiple enemies. If this sounds great, you probably haven't taken into account that many stages of Trio the Punch feature multiple levels of platforms and this punch is likely to send you flying off of them and right into an enemy below! It's just another fantastic element of this ridiculous kuso-ge.
Trio the Punch really is a great game for fans of the weird. It requires zero attention span, but a lot of patience--it should be mentioned that the collision detection in this game is utterly wonky; you'll often hit when it looks like you should miss and vice-versa, and hitting the top of an enemy or projectile won't hurt you, but send you bouncing away until you're on solid ground again. For all the ridiculous fun this game has to offer, it gets 4.5/5 cursed sheep on the GTPU weird-o-meter.
25 May, 2009
GTPU 2009 Cosplay Special
19 May, 2009
Pu-Li-Ru-La
Released: 1991
Published by: Taito
Genre: Beat-'em-up
Platforms: Arcade, ported to FM Towns Marty, Sega Saturn, PlayStation, PS2
[Note: Sorry for the late update. It was a holiday weekend up here in the frozen tundras.] Well, looks like it's the second week in a row of Taito-developed games! But they do deserve to be in the spotlight, as this week's game Pu-Li-Ru-La is a short but sweet classic weird game. What starts out as a seemingly saccharine fairy tale story turns into a surreal mess (though still admittedly saccharine) in which the two heroes Zac and Mel fight robots, clowns, and angry bamboo shoots to save their homeland of Radishland.
The basic premise behind the game is that each town in Radishland has a key that controls the flow of time, and these keys have been stolen by an evil mastermind, subsequently stopping time. For some reason all sorts of bizarre baddies are roaming around in the frozen towns, and when you kill them they turn into ADORABLE little fuzzy animals that you can, uh, run into to collect points. The combat is pretty simple, Zac and Mel have only one attack (club dudes over the head with a Magic Stick) and can use up to three magic spells per life, which are randomly selected and usually pretty awesome—at one point Mel used a spell that one-hit KO'ed the stage boss and moved us right along to the next level.
If I could have only posted one screenshot to sum up the magic of Pu-Li-Ru-La, this would be it.
While it might sound like a pretty run-of-the-mill sidescrolling beat-'em-up so far, the fun of the game starts in around level three when the world takes a sharp twist for the strange and surreal. Levels are littered with photos of real people blocking the screen or interacting with the characters (for example, a room in which a sideways face on the wall licks your heroes with a giant cartoon tongue). Demonic mosaics replace the storybook towns of the beginning of the game. The game explains in broken English that Radishland is being twisted by a megalomaniac's dreams, and while it's allegedly referring to the final boss, we can probably safely assume it applies to the game designers themselves. It's amazingly fun wondering what sort of monstrosity the next level will hold.
Wait, wait, wait... I don't think this is quite what I signed up for when I started playing this game.
Pu-Li-Ru-La's certainly a bit of an anomaly in the gaming world. It seems, for all intents and purposes, to have been targeted at a pretty young audience, judging from the pastel colours, cutesy characters, and difficulty level—it only takes a handful of credits to beat. And yet, there's something so off about it. It was obviously a pretty successful venture for Taito, as it was ported to four different consoles (!) between 1991 and 1997. It's extremely short, taking probably less than fifteen minutes to beat, but there's just so much to take in that you'll probably find yourself coming back to it. It's a shining example of the really weird arcade games that were coming out in the '90s, perhaps because it's something pretty much anyone with a taste for the offbeat can pick up and enjoy.
Pu-Li-Ru-La gets 4.5/5 nightmare fantasy worlds on the GTPU weird-o-meter. Give it a try, I promise you won't be disappointed. Now if only Taito would get around to making a sequel...
11 May, 2009
Takeshi no Chousenjou
Released: 1986
Published by: Taito
Genre: Action/Life Sim (?)
Platforms: Famicom
Takeshi no Chousenjou was released in the mid '80s, originally planned by Taito to be a tie-in product with a popular TV show. Western audiences may be familiar with that show, as it was broadcast in the UK and North America about a decade later as "Takeshi's Castle" and "MXC" respectively. There's nothing unusual about tie-in games--heck, some of them have even been downright playable. What makes Chousenjou special is the fact that Beat Takeshi himself, legendary comedian, actor, and star of the show, played a large part in the development of the game. The result had absolutely nothing to do with the TV show it was meant to adapt, and instead became a legendary kuso-ge (crappy game) that eventually earned cult status and managed to sell roughly 800,000 copies despite, or maybe because of, its frank unplayability.
If you can't read Japanese, you might not be able to tell, but I'm about to divorce my wife, and she's about to try to beat me to death.
The game puts you in the role of a disgruntled salaryman going about his day-to-day life. You start out at your workplace (where you can punch your boss off of his chair and through his desk), but you're free to roam the streets (to punch housewives and other passers-by), enter bars (to punch waitresses and old men), and so on. The game isn't all fun and punches though, as there are yakuza wandering the streets who'll turn the tables on you, and the game demands that certain things be done and choices be made in a really specific, astronomically unintuitive sequence. An example of this is the requirement that you choose a specific hobby early on in the game that you'll need to help you out later: choose to enroll in any lesson but "music", and then any instrument but "shamisen", and you're set up for failure right from the start. Through tedious trial-and-error, or a strategy guide, you may manage to get through the first part of this game, but the best is yet to come.
Hey, it's the main character's funeral. Hopefully you can enjoy this austere scene, because you'll be seeing it a whole lot over the course of playing this game.
Takeshi's sadistic tendencies shine through at several points from here on, in such unique challenges as having to passably sing karaoke at a bar with the rudimentary Famicom microphone, or having to expose a map to sunlight for an hour to activate the invisible ink it's printed in. This particular sequence requires you to leave the console alone for that full hour--pressing a single button will result in your chance being wasted and having to wait another hour. But in what's possibly the most frustrating challenge, your salaryman hero decides to set out to a secret island to find a buried treasure, and you're forced to go by way of hang-glider. Enemies assail you while you do your best to get to that island... but of course, since you're just gliding, you can dodge them by going down, but never up. This makes getting over the massive mountain towards the end of the course pretty difficult, to say the least. Once you're on the island, things don't get much easier, as entering the wrong hut will trap you, forcing you to reset the game.
You might be wondering by now why anyone would want to play this game, but trust me, there's something irresistable about it to a fan of unusual games. I heartily recommend that everyone give it a try, just to soak in the sheer absurdity of it. Takeshi managed to play a joke on the gaming community--and judging from the fact that people are still talking about it more than 20 years later, it was a pretty awesome joke. Takeshi no Chousenjou gets 4/5 henpecked salarymen on the GTPU weird-o-meter.
04 May, 2009
Zunzunkyou no Yabou
Released: 1994
Published by: SEGA
Genre: Shooter
Platforms: Arcade
How many times have you mused to yourself, "Boy, I wish there was a game out there where I could play as a Buddha on a religious crusade throughout the world--no, the universe"? Well, thanks to this bizarre mid-90s SEGA release, your wish has come true! Zunzunkyou no Yabou can be summed up in that one sentence, for better or worse.
The selection screen starts you off with four choices--Japan, Asia, Europe, and America. Each region is full of a goofy cast of ridiculously Japanese stereotypes: the Chinese are a fleet of acrobats and costumed pandas, the French are a bunch of effeminate, prancing ballet dancers, and the Americans are represented by a gaudily-costumed, steroid-fueled Captain America clone who regularly spams attacks in the form of the word "JUSTICE". Your mission as a happy little Buddha (or possibly a statue of one, it's never made quite clear) is to systematically destroy the inhabitants of every country you visit by shooting glowing manji at them. Are you committing genocide? Are you leading sinners to some sort of Nirvana or salvation? You aren't ever told why. There doesn't need to be a reason. It's all very tongue-in-cheek, which doesn't change the fact that the basic premise of the game is utterly insane.
Think of India as the birthplace of Buddhism and a rich cultural history? Sorry, Zunzunkyou no Yabou is here to show us it's actually just a big desert full of buxom naked ladies and dancing skeletons.
Each stage consists of three levels where you have to wipe out 40 -50 innocent people, and an appropriately-themed boss level. It's important to note that while most top-down shooters are pretty tough for the average gamer, Zunzunkyou is made harder by the fact that all the enemy sprites are gigantic and love firing fast-moving crap at you at all times. Furthermore, any attempts at a high score are pretty much moot since it resets to zero at every game over. You might notice from the screenshots that P1's score is pretty much solidly between 0 and 100 at all times, which is partly because I suck at shooters and partly because Zunzunkyou was explicitly designed to suck as many quarters from the arcade-going public as humanly possible. Really, it makes the entire Metal Slug series look like a cakewalk. Insult is added to injury by the time you reach the American stage and realise the game designers think of Harlem as a place for flamboyantly gay 80s sci-fi punk rockers to hang out on a basketball court.
Ah, France. Home to circus animals, Egyptian tilework, and of course, Pierrot the Clown. Where else could you find all these things in one place?
Once you've pretty much annihilated everyone on Earth (except of course people in Africa, South America, and Australasia, I guess), you may think you've beaten the game--but no! Our manji-throwing buddy's journey is much grander than that. Your journey next takes you to space, where you're given the chance to spread your pacifist philosophies through alien discotheques and bizarro-Earths full of clones of your own character. The final boss is Earth itself, which has sprouted a gigantic eyeball and decides to fight you by throwing little miniature Earths at you. Why Buddha wants to blow up the planet is kind of a mystery, but really, no moreso than anything else in this game. By the time I got to this point, I'd probably used up at least 50 credits, so you can bet I was hoping for an awesome ending animation, or at least a credit roll. Zunzunkyou being Zunzunkyou, all I was treated to for the wanton destruction of the Earth was a short message followed by the initial selection screen again.
Despite all this, Zunzunkyou has found a permanent home with me, and for some unknown reason I find myself coming back to it now and then. It gets 3.5/5 racist stereotypes on the GTPU weird-o-meter, mostly because if nothing else it'll make you smile, and you can beat it in about fifteen minutes.
28 April, 2009
It's coming...
In the meantime, make game suggestions! We wanna hear what strange games you want us to suffer through. See you soon.