Retro Gaming Essentials – Page 3

Super Mario Bros. / Duck Hunt — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 35)

They say age is but a number, but I do believe that our age can come to define us in many respects.

For instance, age can be an important point of common ground. An indication of shared experiences. A garden for bonding.

This reservoir of a common language, both figurative and literal, which arises from those shared experiences represents an easier connection point. It facilitates communication and understanding.

Whether I yell out “Norm!” in a bar or start humming the theme song to “Mission Impossible,” my actions can elicit an emotional response in the people around me. That emotion triggers a willingness or eagerness to connect. And off we go.

Those things that we have watched, heard, read, and experienced differ from generation to generation. And while me aping “Star Wars” for my immediate family is going to yield positive results, the communication will inevitably be lost for folks who have yet to see it. And that – whether they’ve experienced a thing – is determined, at least in part, by age.

Super Mario Bros., the definitive pack-in title for the Nintendo Entertainment System, stands tall as an incredibly important title historically. We’ll get into some of the reasons for that shortly, but it is enough to know at the outset that this game helped define an entire industry, saved a company from near-death while vaulting it to the head of that video gaming industry, and launched a mascot into the sort of fame generally reserved for the likes of Mickey Mouse.

A lot of people know this.

I mean, when I wear a Zelda shirt in public, I get the occasional question: “What is Zelda?”

Maybe this is a meme I am unaware of, but mostly I take it at face value: people who don’t game very often don’t know what Zelda is.

Yet people who don’t game still know who Mario is. And that often cuts across generational divides. Most people can grasp the significance:

Mario and by extension Nintendo are super important/popular in video games.
This was Mario’s first big starring adventure.

That second point is of course muddier than it needs to be, as Mario had previously appeared in a number of other titles, but the modifier of “first big starring” hopefully adds some clarity. This game was a gigantic hit, and the game was about him, Mario.

And people can accept this thing, because they’re at least vaguely aware of the other games that have come along since.

Super Mario Bros. 1.

One.

It was the first.

Okay, I can understand that.

Even a non-gamer in their teens can probably accept these basic truths and connect with an aging gamer in his 50s and carry on a brief conversation about the topic, just through general historical pop culture knowledge and logic.

Where the age gap enters the discussion is when the “other” pack-in game for the Nintendo Entertainment System is brought up.

“What about Duck Hunt?”

And this is why I “cheated” by listing both games here. Yes, they’re technically both included in a single cart. They’re both included as pack-in games for the NES. And each game is provided its own optimal control device in the form of a standard d-pad for Mario and the light-gun zapper for Duck Hunt. But let’s acknowledge: these are two separate games.

So why list them both?

It’s really pretty simple.

I don’t think either game is as good on its own. And I further don’t think that I can ever truly think of one without thinking of the other.

For a certain number of people who lived through that time period in the 1980s, these two games are unfailingly joined at the hip.

And for those people, who lived the experience in real time, that is as it should be.

Super Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt go together like peanut butter and jelly.

Super Mario Bros. / Duck Hunt at a glance:
Genre: Side-scrolling platformer / Shooter
Released: 1985 / 1984
Platform: NES
GameSpot community rated 9.1 out of 10

The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 34)

As a grotesque, anthropomorphized moon threatens to collide with your world and bring about total annihilation, you, as the gamer, wrestle with the very real notion that you don’t know how to stop this, and moreover, that you’re not going to have the time to do anything about it anyway, even if you could figure out what that was supposed to be.

In short, you’re doomed.

And you know it.

Bummer.

Quite obviously, it is not a stretch to say that “The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask” is one of Nintendo’s darker creations, nor is it unfair to say that the game isn’t shy about throwing the player into the deep end quickly. The primary objective of the game, that of preventing this global apocalypse, is shoved in your face right away.

And it is added upon with still more to burden yourself with, as though preventing widespread death and devastation is … somehow not enough.

Whereas its immediate predecessor (and certified gem) “Ocarina of Time” started you out in the comfy confines of your personal home and community, introducing you gradually to external threats (with mostly obvious methods – and fairly introduced abilities – to overcome them), Majora’s Mask at the outset puts you in a vulnerable position alone on the road, makes you an immediate victim of a robbery and a curse(!), then leaves you with this hellish scenario of the moon colliding with your immediate location raining certain destruction … with just three days to try to stop it from happening.

Feelings of dread and doom overwhelm, to the extent few games have emulated before or since. We’re 45 minutes into this game, and we cannot in our wildest imaginations begin to understand how we’re going to get our heroic alter-ego, Link, through this one.

“Well, it’s been a good run buddy, but I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this one alive.”

“Me neither. See you on the other side, champ.”

Compare this to previous Zelda games. An enemy, even a grossly overpowered one like Ganon, is still just one entity. The challenge is easier to wrap your arms around.

Take down this bad guy.
Save the princess.
Win the day!

The threat in Majora’s Mask is more elusive, ultimately, and more conceptually difficult to process. Its scope is immense, akin to asking a person to solve a problem like world hunger or devise a method for ridding the world of cockroaches.

“Where do I even begin?”

Where indeed. The trick, which is revealed in those early moments (but only after a sort of dread-panic has taken firm hold), is that time travel once again comes into play, as it did in the previous game.

Here, it’s implemented differently, as a kind of looping dynamic. You can go back to the beginning of this hellish scenario as many times as you like, as it turns out, as a way of “buying” yourself more time.

But this is a true deal with the devil, Faustian in its intent.

Yes, you get a chance to restart. But it’s a return to the same initial feelings of despair that so overwhelmed you to begin with. It’s the same place, with the same people, with the same scenario. Played out, over and over again. And as if that doesn’t sound problematic enough – retraumatizing yourself over and over again – certain things you’ve done to rectify the problems in the world around you … well those reset as well. Progress is lost. You must begin all over again. And perhaps worst of all, once you reach a certain point in the time loop, you reach yet another level of horrifying understanding, and it’s that your first impression was actually correct:

The breadth of the task in front of you is simply impossible.

You cannot do it. There’s just no way to save everyone and fix everything. Some wrongs will not be corrected, and there’s nothing you can do about that.

In a sense, you truly ARE doomed.

THIS is the essence of Majora’s Mask. And it’s effing brilliant.

The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask at a glance:
Genre: Adventure
Released: 2000
Platform: Nintendo 64
Runner-up for GameSpot’s “Best Nintendo 64 Game”

Katamari Damacy — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 33)

I’ve been thinking for some time now that writing this feature, my own take on THE Retro Gaming Essentials, is probably going to end up being a bigger spend of my time than I originally anticipated, more than likely topping out around 100 entries, give or take.

I’ve already got a list that I maintain that has more than double that amount of games under consideration, though that number – that of multiple hundreds – of reviews looks, quite frankly, daunting and unfun. The 100 number seems to be a good, sensible target.

And yet … it’s still ambitious. Each entry takes several hours to put together. So, that’s basically 100 relatively long think-pieces on games that, for the most part, have also already been written about ad nauseum.

One wonders if this might all be a tremendous waste of time.

But then again, gamers are getting younger all the time, and even genuine Grade-A bangers might need that little extra push from people like me to have the younger set move some retro games off their backlog and actually get to playing the darn things.

Regardless, there are certainly gems that will slide into a countdown of this sort that haven’t been discussed enough already, and giving those games more of an audience seems a worthwhile endeavor.

Video game preservation has become more and more of a topic of discussion, and with good reason.

Unlike other media, like film, the method of delivery with games is constantly becoming outdated. Yes, in movies you have film -> cassette -> DVD -> digital … and yet, those movies can be preserved via standard methodology of digitization and basically not be lost to time at that point. At least, it’s not a feature of the experience. It takes actual neglect/oversight for a movie to vanish from existence (at least at the studio level).

Conversely, when a game was released as an exclusive for an unpopular system or for a PC so underpowered you can’t even properly emulate it anymore, well that presents a problem. The ability to even play the thing will be called into question. Games will be lost and forgotten about. Things that were genuinely beautiful … will be gone. Possibly forever.

The oddball, less popular games therefore require extra advocacy.

Criminally underrated gems like Chrono Cross and Air Zonk deserve their flowers, and so to include them here, and to give them a little extra attention, is to my way of thinking, a good thing. Perhaps even an important thing.

Yes, for preservation and historical documentation purposes. But also because so much of the web seems dedicated to hate nowadays that spreading some love feels like a positive thing on its own merits.

Truly, everyone deserves love.

Even the weirdos.

Especially the weirdos.

Katamari Damacy is one of those weirdos.

Katamari Damacy at a glance:
Genre: Puzzle Action
Released: 2004
Platform: PlayStation 2
No. 13 in USgamer’s “15 Best Games since 2000”

Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 32)

Rhythm games haven’t always been so explicit.

Today’s generation of rhythm games – including such noteworthy examples as “Thumper” and “Crypt of the NecroDancer” – are very clear about their design choices in relation to the objectives, generally providing an on-screen timed graphic of some sort meant to coincide with a gamer’s button press.

It all works within the flow of the music, but the idea being conveyed is clear. “Press a button … now!”

If the person playing times their button presses well enough, they are rewarded with praise, advancement, and sometimes even rewards.

This simple concept, of indicating to a gamer when and where they should push a button, as though the music itself isn’t enough of an indicator, has been around quite a while.

1996’s “Parappa the Rapper” is often credited with popularizing this template, and that game absolutely deserves every ounce of praise it has ever received … though it wasn’t exactly alone in creating this sub-genre.

Of course, musical games like “Simon” predate Parappa by a good bit, and if you consider them for longer than a minute, you do realize that while the rhythm of those games is an afterthought, it does emerge organically, particularly as it relates to the avoidance of running out of time.

Moreover, though Simon was an external device/toy unconnected to any dedicated hardware, it was absolutely electronic in nature with a requirement of interactivity in order that it might operate properly.

Within that context, we might accurately say that the origins of the rhythm video game actually lie nearly 50 years past.

And yet, the true heyday, the “golden era” if you will, was the mid-90s to mid-2000s.

“Parappa the Rapper” beget “Beatmania” which beget “Dance Dance Revolution” (Dance Dance is a whole different conversation that we shall come to at some point in this countdown, I can assure you) which went on to beget “Bust a Groove,” and on and on we went, along through games like “Rock Band” and “Guitar Hero” which themselves became MONSTER hits (with gamers and non-gamers alike).

The newer games within the genre (released within the past decade or so) distinguish themselves by offering interesting thematic elements such as specific characters and music an audience might gravitate towards (Kingdom Hearts! Zelda! The Beatles!), as well as deeper environments to explore that don’t merely consist of one static screen, or perhaps if we’re really gonna get crazy, a screen that scrolls towards you while the notes/button presses come flying at you in real time.

But there’s a noticeable, familiar chaining to this system. “Press a button … now!. Press a different button … now!”

It’s pretty much always this way.

And it doesn’t have to be.

To understand this, we merely need to circle back to a different sort of rhythm game that predates the likes of Dance Dance Revolution, Rock Band, and Parappa the Rapper. One that’s less explicit in its stated intent, yet no less demanding when the game fires up.

You are not visually or verbally told to press certain buttons … the game merely demands it of you instead.

You are required to do things a certain way to progress, and that way is rhythmic in nature.

Jump. Jump. Bounce. Bounce.

Pause. Jump. Pause. Jump.

Attack. Move. Attack. Move.

Enemies are spaced from one another to encourage these inputs. The music is smooth and appealing enough to pull you in, yet urgent enough to pull you forward.

Patterns emerge. The soundtrack mirrors the action and vice versa.

Jump. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

And as you progress through the game, this oddity, of there being a rhythmic nature of one’s inputs, becomes more and more obvious, until eventually, there is little point in denying what is happening.

For those who have been paying attention, “Donkey Kong Country” offered up its own kind of rhythm game when it launched as a reboot/rebranding of Nintendo’s big ape in 1994.

And the series’ first sequel, “Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest,” managed to not only continue that tradition in resounding fashion, but also remains an absolute masterclass in incredible platforming to this day, refining and perfecting what its predecessor laid the groundwork for.

And what is that, exactly?

A true A+ rhythm platformer.

Donkey Kong Country 2 at a glance:

Genre: Side-scrolling platformer
Released: 1995
Platform: Super Nintendo
No. 17 in Complex’s “Best Super Nintendo Games of All Time”

Metroid Prime — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 31)

Metroid Prime is a testament to the concept of “where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

For the better part of a decade, the idea that a game like Metroid Prime could even exist stretched the imaginations of developers and gamers everywhere.

Could it be done?

A decidedly 2D concept, that of a large, atmospheric map that is gradually unlocked through the accumulation of additional powers acquired via backtracking and exploration, dependent upon tight, precise controls as well as highly specific memorization of not just enemy attack patterns but also more critically of the terrain itself … Metroid just didn’t seem like an easy thing to convert into a 3D space.

Also problematic was that Metroid, as a franchise, had never, not once, ever been a big seller.

We’re talking about a brand that had traditionally been outsold by such glorified tech demos as Pilotwings and Mario Paint (fine experiments in gaming to be sure, but not exactly the first games that roll off the tongue when talking about the greatest or even the most popular video games of all time).

Overwhelming financial incentive to engineer such a difficult switch-up just wasn’t there.

So, thusly, a 3D conversion for Metroid wouldn’t happen for a long time.

Eventually, of course, it did. But by the time Metroid Prime released on the GameCube in the fall of 2002 to glowing reviews, Nintendo had lost its stranglehold on the gaming industry to Sony and the mighty Playstation 2, thereby ensuring that Metroid would, once again, sadly not sell a gazillionty copies.

I think this is important to note, as Metroid, to this day, remains a niche property, appealing to a relatively small audience. This is despite the fact that:

Metroid games, by and large, are incredibly good. Like almost illogically good?
Metroid Prime should have been an absolute gold standard, Grade-A system seller.

On that second point, my contention is that Metroid Prime would have had every opportunity to find an entirely different level of success above and beyond the 2.84 million copies it sold had it not been married to a gaming system that consumers just weren’t buying.

Speaking from personal experience as a PS2 owner back in the day, I had little incentive to double-dip and buy a second gaming system. I, like many others, knew there were only so many hours in the day to devote to gaming, and also, I was poorer than dirt.

So … no GameCube for me. The temptation to go against this very sound logic was literally one game: Metroid Prime.

And that just wasn’t enough.

The GameCube, still utterly beloved by generations of Nintendo stans, finished third in sales (21.74 million units sold) during its generation’s heyday, behind the aforementioned Playstation 2 (155 million!), and the new kids on the block, Microsoft and their Xbox (24 million).

Xbox’s system seller was Halo, a game that very much deserves its flowers (while the Playstation 2 had too many “system sellers” to even count – that system’s library is insane!).

But Halo – to this day a monster of a property for Microsoft (perhaps its most important) with over 81 millions copies sold – was simply no Metroid Prime.

Was Halo excellent?

Yes. (It’ll absolutely make an appearance on this countdown at some point.)

Was Halo revelatory?

No. Not quite.

So … why didn’t Metroid Prime take off in quite the same way?

Well, we noted it being chained to a comparatively unpopular system, but beyond that, the game itself was a quieter, more thoughtful affair. “Cerebral” isn’t usually one of the first characteristics one might list when noting what mass audiences crave.

Nintendo as a brand was also no longer seen as cool or edgy in the GameCube era. Having hemorrhaged developers during the N64 days due to an odd commitment to cartridges (a commitment they dumped a generation later), Nintendo WAS at least trying interesting things with its main properties. Zelda was now a cell-shaded cartoon. Mario was wandering around a tropical resort with a water cannon on his back. Luigi had his own game, and it was very much unlike a traditional Mario platformer. Heck, even Mario Kart had a gimmick.

But some of those creative decisions alienated long-time fans while simultaneously failing to court new users. At best, some of that generation’s games might be characterized as colorful diversions (Luigi’s Mansion). At worst, they could be called actual missteps (Mario Sunshine).

But regardless, it felt like Nintendo was throwing things against a wall to see what would stick.

And it was within that type of environment, with spaghetti dripping down the walls, that they handed the keys to Metroid over to a subsidiary, Retro Studios, to take on an unenviable task:

Make Metroid 3D.

They succeeded brilliantly.

Metroid Prime at a glance:
Genre: First-Person Action-Adventure
Released: 2002
Platform: GameCube
No. 10 in Nintendo Power’s “Top 200 Nintendo Games Ever”

Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 30)

Maybe you had to be there to fully appreciate it.

Or perhaps you somehow missed it even if you lived through it.

Regardless, I am here to tell you: “Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater” was a whole mood.

There was a time when this game repped a significant piece of our world’s culture.

I don’t believe I’m overstating things when I say this. The skating scene was blowing up, this game was blowing up, and it all became the sort of thing that, while it was certainly juvenile and maybe a little bit silly, it was also the sort of thing that a LOT of people got into.

So, let’s set the stage a little for the younger folk (and the people who like to reminisce).

Way back in the fall of 1993, ESPN, not content to keep swimming through the bags of money they were already making through cable rights deals, made the somewhat illogical decision to launch a second network, because, well, who hates money, amirite?

They went with the novel name of “ESPN2” with its on-air personalities regularly referring to it as “The Deuce.”

Cute.

Now, backing up a smidge, I say the venture was “somewhat illogical” because only the tiniest of details – a giant, gaping lack of programming – was a potential stumbling block.

Oops!

Well, this lack of programming foresight encouraged the folks at ESPN to get creative about what they’d put on, which led to the creation of the X Games … as well as many, many jokes about scraping the bottom of the barrel for something, anything to put on the air. ESPN2 sorta became synonymous with airing ridiculous events that were decidedly not sports-related, barely sports-related, or maybe even (in the best case scenario) somewhat sports related.

Anyhow, most of it had a tenuous connection to “traditional” sports (or no connection at all).

The aforementioned X Games was a made-from-scratch Olympics-style competition for offbeat, alternative sports like snowboarding, motocross, BMX, and of course, skateboarding, that made its debut in 1995. And the X Games, despite its nature as a corporate creation with a limited appeal outside of a niche audience, grew in popularity over time.

These events, after all, were more sports-like than something like lumberjacking or billiards.

Eventually, people began to figure out there was money to be made in marketing to a demographic that was interested in watching what was essentially counter-culture entertainment.

“Eff the man! Buy more product!”

It was probably inevitable. I mean, there were sports drinks to peddle. What I recall most about that era, culturally, was that everything back then had to be “cool.” It was a requirement. It’s why video game commercials of the era were ridiculous and looked like this:

So OF COURSE the X Games became a thing.

And one of the biggest players on this brand-new stage was Tony Hawk.

Hawk, a professional skateboarder, was so popular that it’s probably unnecessary for me to have just typed that he is a professional skateboarder. In the same way that people know Michael Jordan is a basketball player, or Mario is a video game character, Tony Hawk came to be the embodiment of his entire sport.

You already know who Tony Hawk is.

But if you weren’t around back then (or very, very young), you might not understand that at least some of the reason the man is synonymous with skateboarding is the existence of “Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater.”

Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater at a glance
Genre: Sports
Released: 1999
Platform: PlayStation
No. 36 on Game Informer’s Top 100 Games of All Time

DuckTales — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 29)

Life is like a hurricane,
here in Duckburg.
Racecars, lasers, aeroplanes,
it’s a duck blur.
Might solve a mystery.
Or rewrite history…

“DuckTales,” the classic Disney half-hour afternoon cartoon that debuted in 1987 and ran for four seasons (though much longer in syndication), has shown a rare capacity for endurance that shows of its ilk rarely can even aspire to.

Don’t believe me? Sing the first couple of bars of that theme song in public and see if the people around you join in.

If they don’t, you’ll feel really silly, and that’s kind of funny.

But chances are, at least a few people will sing along (or at least crack a big goofy grin as you make a fool of yourself).

And with good reason, as the show, for a good number of Gen Xers, was a babysitter as they latch-keyed their way into their homes and killed time for the couple of hours until their parents got home from work.*

* Gen Xers are very proud of being latch-key and will bring that fact up on literally every occasion possible, in the same way that a vegetarian will always proudly tell you that they are vegetarian. How do you get a Gen Xer out of your house? Invite over their parents.

How good was DuckTales? Well, probably not as good as you remember. It leans heavily on other pieces of work and falls into simplistic tropes with dialogue that will mostly appeal to minors. And the animation itself isn’t ground-shaking either.

But that’s honestly okay, because a thing doesn’t have to be great to be important.

And DuckTales was absolutely an important piece of pop culture.

The show, itself a risk due to its heavy production demands for what might have been considered meager rewards in a traditionally low-viewed time slot, instead was immensely popular and paved the way for even more Disney afternoon animated shows like “Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers” and “Tailspin.”

In its own way, DuckTales can also be given some credit (or blame) for Disney’s ability to weather some lean years in the 1980s when the studio was having a difficult time finding success at the box office (prior to “The Little Mermaid,” that is).

The fondness and popularity for DuckTales eventually spawned a reboot of the show in 2017, once again for a few seasons, except this time it was objectively entertaining for adults. The test of time will likely be far kinder to the reboot in terms of actual repeat viewings, as the series, for any fans of the brand at all, is basically a must-watch, delightful and humorous and engaging. (It’s seriously THAT good … go watch it right now if you haven’t seen it yet.)

Of course, the reboot and all of the merchandise and crossovers and so forth and so on over all of the years … none of that tells the entire story, because the entire story wouldn’t be complete without an acknowledgement of the licensed video game that was developed and released alongside the cartoon in 1989.

That licensed video game, “DuckTales,” somehow became one of the greatest platformers of all time.

‘DuckTales’ at a glance:
Genre: Platformer
Released: 1989
Platform: NES
Nintendo Power’s No. 44 greatest game of all time

Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 28)

Like many other video game enthusiasts of the early 90’s, I received a free copy of Dragon Warrior with my “Nintendo Power” subscription.

(Bear with me here.)

Freebie games are now a dime a dozen (generally geared toward getting your money through add-on purchases after the fact!), but in 1990-91 when this promotion occurred, it was mind-bending as hell.

Console games back then, pretty much without exception, cost $50 a pop. Yeah, many games eventually went on sale, and yeah, there were some exceptions – like one-offs on the Genesis or most (all?) of the games on the pricier NeoGeo – but by and large, that was the default cost: $50.

So you had to be choosy. And I, like many other western gamers, wasn’t ready to dump $50 into a role-playing game.*

* This is why the promotion existed, to get western gamers to try to get onboard with RPGs, since they were so huge in Japan and Nintendo wanted to maximize profits in the West as well.

I had brain rot for action, you see. “Die Hard” and “Star Wars” were probably my favorite movies by this point (“The Blues Brothers” might have been a close third). Playground activities centered around pretending to club other kids with some sort of blunt instrument (or actually connecting on occasion … Sorry, Gary!).

Video games, by extension, needed to be fast-paced as well, yes?

Well, not always, as it turned out.

Because of the Dragon Warrior offer, I learned I could receive a free game if I subscribed to a magazine I loved already. And that was something different entirely.

I signed up in about 0.0003 seconds.

And thusly, Dragon Warrior – the grindiest of painfully grindy RPGs – became my definitive viewpoint of the genre for the next decade.

It was the first and last impression. The alpha and the omega. Nothing to see here, folks, this is all there is.

“Yeah, this is fun I guess, but what’s with all the boring, repetitive, unavoidable battles? I’m not playing another game like this.”*

* It is beyond safe to say that Dragon Warrior will NOT be making an appearance on this list. Yes, it’s historically relevant, and yes, I still have great affinity for it. But at some point, you have to ask yourself, “Would I honestly recommend someone sit down with this thing today and try to play it?” The answer with Dragon Warrior: Not unless I was playing a cruel prank on someone.

So when “Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars” came along in 1996, it couldn’t have been further from my radar.

And justifiably so on some level, because even though it is undeniably stupid to generalize an entire genre of video game because of just one game, that one game in question was extremely difficult to love.

I regret nothing.

Except…

Holy smokes, did I miss out on some genuine bangers for a really long time.

Thank goodness for retro gaming as an actual business and my own personal resolve to circling back to missed games as an adopted mentality.

Because Super Mario RPG is a downright joyful experience.

Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars at a glance
Genre: RPG
Release: 1996
Platform: SNES
Complex’s No. 8 Best Super Nintendo Game

NBA Jam — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 27)

“He’s on fire!”

For anyone who has experienced the true greatness that is NBA Jam, that phrase should be all it takes to transport you away to a world of frenetic, over-the-top, arcade basketball.

It’s a world of dunks, steals, and hot streaks.

It’s a world in which putting yourself in the shoes of superstars like Charles Barkley, Hakeem Olajowan, and Shaquille O’Neal (to name just a few) was a mere dollar away.*

* My memory might be hazy on this point, but I do recall the game costing more than the typical quarter or even 50 cents a play – I’m PRETTY sure it usually cost at least a buck to play – and that it was of great annoyance to me that this was the case. “Games used to cost 25 cents. Why are we now charging more? It’s outlandish and unfair!” Clearly, inflation as a concept had yet to penetrate my teenage boy brain.

It’s a world of impossible physics and ridiculous commentary.

It’s a world of insane levels of rubber-banding that could reduce the hardest of men to quivering tears.

It’s a world of fantastical cameos and easter eggs, not the least of which was a playable version of Bill Clinton himself.

In other words, this world, the world of NBA Jam, is the very best kind of world.

Buckle up, kids.

We’re about to go deep on NBA Jam, the most outrageous mainstream sports game our society has ever seen.

NBA Jam at a glance
Genre: Sports
Release: 1993
Platform: Arcade
No. 19 on Flux’s Top 100 Video Games

Chrono Trigger — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 26)

What’s your definition of a “10”?

More than a few people would call a “10” “perfect” and basically leave it at that.

And for most people, that’s fine and dandy.

But I subscribe to a belief that it’s a little more nuanced than that.

For me, a score of 10/10 isn’t an indication that a thing is actually flawless per se. It’s more of an acknowledgment of supreme excellence.

Think of it this way: A person can get 8 or 9 out of 10 questions on a quiz correct, but then nail the extra credit and still end up with a “perfect” score, even without a flawless performance.

Did the thing we’re talking about do what it set out to do in a special and exceptional way? And probably more importantly, at least to me, is how did it make me feel in the process? Thusly, a “10” is essentially the highest possible recognition or superlative, NOT a designation of perfection or flawlessness.

And can we acknowledge, at least a little bit, that perhaps nothing is perfect, and that when evaluating anything, it’s basically impossible to separate from that evaluation how a thing makes us feel?

How we react to a thing informs how we speak of it after the fact. And yes, that’s more of an undefinable thing, and yes, that complicates things greatly, but it’s not a thing we can ultimately avoid.

It’s how a game like Air Zonk can rank higher on this list than Ms. Pac-Man. One game is objectively more important historically and more universally well regarded and … well, tough cookies. Air Zonk makes me happier.

Chrono Trigger, our No. 26 game on the countdown (and another game that makes me happy), is a game that often gets lauded with the “perfect” moniker, and you can easily see why.

Its mix of story, characterization, game design, and enjoyment it engenders while playing are almost universally considered among the best in the genre. And moreover, it’s REALLY difficult to find anything to complain or quibble about here.

There just aren’t a lot of flaws in this game.

Does that make it perfect?

Not in the slightest.

It’s a wonderful game, and it should be experienced by everyone. That’s why it’s here.

But it ain’t perfect.

Let’s establish that now, so that inflated expectations don’t ruin the game for you.

Chrono Trigger at a glance:

Genre: RPG
Released: 1995
Platform: SNES
GamesRadar’s “2nd best Super NES game of all time”