Back in the castle again, for probably the best game in the series to date.

I’m fucking JAZZED to be talking about CastleVania: Symphony of the Night. It is my favorite game (besides Mr. Driller) for the original PlayStation, and it is widely regarded as one of the best video games ever. It took the story of the CastleVania series and threw us a few curve balls with it; the result is a work of art that had a profound effect on action-adventure gaming as a product and as a style.

SOTN (as I’ll refer to it within this article) started its life as a game for the Sega 32X. Early in its development, it was picked up whole-cloth, moved to the “Holy Shit it’s the PlayStation” department of Konami R&D, and converted to high-test. The developers in charge of the project, Hagihara and Igarashi, Were involved with the franchise’s previous game, Dracula X/Rondo of Blood, and wanted to continue that storyline while adding some non-linear elements inspired by the critical reception of Simon’s Quest. The story picks up… well, one of the cool part is, you have to finish the final boss fight from Dracula X before you can even play SOTN. This you do as Richter Belmont, that game’s protagonist and probably the most badass Belmont in the family line. (You can also play as him in SOTN by entering his name as yours in in a game file.) After that, we fade in on Alucard, Dracula’s half-vampire son whose previous appearance was 8 years earlier in CastleVania III: Dracula’s Curse, anime-dashing towards his father’s decrepit castle, decked out in his finest gear. You smash around a little while looking for Daddy, instead encounter your dad’s homie Death, and (almost to draw attention to this game’s sick RPG-style inventory system) get all your cool shit ganked. The game proper-begins here, where you start exploring the castle in earnest, looking for weapons etc. to replace those you lost and trying to get your bearings. Before long you’re exploring the whole castle (including a separate version of it, connected to the first via teleport, that is entirely upside-down) and finding all kinds of cool shit to help you put down Dracula and his undying army of servants. Elaborate doors mark off areas where “boss fights” await you, and places to save your game and rest up are scatted throughout as well in the form of dark rooms containing coffins.

I hope you brought an economy size box of Band-Aids, Al.

Of course there are tons of gnarly monsters between you and, well, everything. Lavishly rendered versions of the standard CastleVania stock, as well as some out-there foes like living swords and man eating plants, will gladly help you lose some weight in hit points. A lot of them also have a chance to drop sweet goodies for you, from one-use items to fancy weapons and armor. You’ll also want to do a blood-bucket worth of killing anyway, just to level up. Yes, in another well-converted RPG mechanic, Alucard becomes more skilled and powerful as he clocks hours murdering his father’s crew ad infinitum. You not only get all kinds of weapons and armor as you scrounge around, but you can learn some of Dracula’s vampire tricks (mostly shape-changing), magical spells, and more. Alucard also has access to the same set of sub-weapons a Belmont normally does, except the boomerang seems conspicuously absent. Small potatoes. Who cares. This game is awesome.

Welcome to Shuffle-opolis.

The graphics for SOTN are absolutely delicious, most especially the background art for the castle’s various areas. The PlayStation allowed for then-unprecedented amounts of visual detail, and parallaxing background layers add to the depth of it all. All sprites are given rich animation and some of the bigger ones bear as much detail as the background art. And the sound? Well, here. Listen to the OST. You’ll want to keep doing it. I am right now. Michiru Yamane’s work on this game’s soundtrack belongs on a high pillar, easily some of the finest music in a Konami game ever. There is no shyness in terms of style-blending or variety, and it comes off like smooth vanilla. Not to mention, it is 100% CastleVania.

SOTN is another one of those games I’d be slandering if I didn’t give it a 9/10. Hell, it’s a game I’m struggling not to slap a 10 on. It’s simply a classic, like peanut butter & jelly or the baked potato. It needs no doctoring around with or serious weighing in the balance; it’s fucking gold the way it is and it helped to spawn a slew of games that mimic its layout and play style. There’s a reason for that: it’s a legendary game. If you own a PS1 and do not own this game for it, stop fucking around. Why do you have a PS1 Then?

good night, folks! Stay Retro!!!

There’s something about samurai or ninja themed media, its blend of honor and violence, that makes its appeal both perennial and difficult to discard. In many ways, it mirrors America’s romanticized depiction of the Old West – a comparison not lost on those who craft these tales. You need a good story for those kinds of things; it needn’t be overly complex, but if it’s not an interesting saga, is it really a saga?

I mentioned Bushido Blade in a previous article, but I wanted to be fair to it and give it what it deserves here at NRW: its own more detailed treatment. Released in 1997, it was one of my formative experiences with the PlayStation 1, and it remains one of my go-to discs in my modest PS1 library. In fact, as I went to begin this article, I did what I often do – get the game itself cued up so I can alternate between playing and writing – and Bushido Blade was already sitting in the disc tray when I opened it. Go figure.

The main appeal of Bushido Blade for me (and I’d bet real life big kid money I’m not alone) is its versatility as a source of diversion. It is a blast to play with another person in VS mode, but it also contains a really cool “modern day” samurai drama for solo play that engages you without being overly complex or convoluted. Square (who published this game but still played a role in its development) can occasionally be guilty of that kind of thing with a storyline, but I feel like the influence they had is a net positive here. As perhaps the last truly solid console of its era, the PS1 saw a lot of games published for it; while I don’t talk about it much, it’s certainly significant to the history we so often examine in these articles. I believe Bushido Blade to be one of its most worthwhile titles.

Utsusemi, the “real” main character, in his Gambit-from-Xmen getup for Story Mode. I’d like to stress how incredibly badass the dialogue is in the cutscenes; the excellent Japanese-language voice work couples with simple but theatrical writing to ad an extra level of artistic depth.

The storyline revolves around two fictional institutions, holdovers from 500+ years back in Japan’s history: a dojo called Meikyokan, and a guild of assassins known as Kage (fittingly, the Japanese word for shadow) who live within the dojo. One of the six playable characters, Utsusemi, led the dojo until he was violently deposed by his rival Hanzaki. Hanzaki later gained possession of a cursed sword, and its evil influence changed him into a wicked man who has discarded the internal values and traditions of the Kage. This includes treating the dojo more or less as a prison for those within the school who disagree with his new path. The story past this point has variations depending upon which character you choose, but the common theme is that you have escaped the dojo as a defector. Cut scenes with subtitled Japanese dialogue act as bridges between brutal fights in various urban and rural locales, including parking decks, bamboo forests, and construction sites. After all, they can’t just let you go, right?

What truly made (and still makes) Bushido Blade stand out among fighting games is its damage system. Each character can use all of the available weapons in the game, but has an aptitude with certain types (translation: a slightly better move set). When different types of attack strike different parts of an opponent’s anatomy, they can maim, cripple, handicap, slow down, or instantly kill the victim. There is no life bar; violence and death in Bushido Blade are presented in a far less abstract fashion, with some realism in mind. Another layer of detail is added by the different stances one can take while wielding the various weapons. Each one has its own advantages and drawbacks, with some favoring defense and others being suitable for a balls-to-the-wall attack. You can also break into a trot or make quick feints. Bushido Blade is nearly incomparable to conventional fighting games of its time, breaking from tradition and convention in an earnest (and successful) attempt to show fighting for what it truly is: intense, uncompromising, quick, and lethal.

Speaking of lethal, here’s a pixelated spray of arterial red to show those unfamiliar with the game how quick you can die and how “tasteful” the gore level is. Kannuki (my favorite character) gets his body opened up after a critical misstep.

Alternate modes of play exist beyond VS mode and the single player story. One is a pretty cool “POV mode,” where you can dual from a first-person view against a computer opponent. Another is Slash Mode, where you face off against foe after foe after foe in an effort to survive as long as possible. I particularly enjoy this one as a chance to hone my skills for the main run. The challenge increases very gradually and it’s a fun way to burn an hour or two when you get into it.

I can’t heap mounds of praise upon the graphics, nor can I take a shit on them. PS1 graphics, for the most part, are what they are: low-poly, but well-animated and executed low-poly. One visual bit they did well was the blood; it is tastefully kept to moderation, but visually striking and appropriately used to convey what blood is meant to convey in theatrical terms. The soundtrack is used sparingly but is very good; it emulates traditional Japanese music very closely, with an inoffensive dash of modernity added in here and there. From the perspective of “video games as art,” I would say that Bushido Blade comes across as an understated but extremely effective piece of art.

POV mode is a little bit weird at first, but it’s easier to adjust to it than I thought it would be and it’s really cool once you get used to it. The little guy in the upper right is so you know what stance you’re using.

If you are a PS1 enthusiast, you probably already have this game in your library. If you don’t, and even if you don’t like fighting games, I encourage you to give this one a spin in the tray. As I stated above, I consider this to be right up there with Final Fantasy VII and CastleVania: Symphony of the Night as an absolutely essential title for the original PlayStation.

The martial arts have played a mystifying role in pop culture ever since the great Bruce Lee graced the screen with sick moves so fast the camera could barely capture them. Perhaps even before that, the very idea of such fighting prowess, with or without a weapon, has been a vivid font for fantasy in the public mind. I remember being drawn to karate and tae kwon do as a youth by heroes such as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I took classes for about a year, but at age 8, all I really did was pick my nose and wiggle my ass in the full-length mirrors lining the wall. I lacked focus and discipline. I revisited the endeavor later in life and made moderate headway, but at that point I had developed other interests that far outweighed my desire to become a fighting machine. I was also, as I am now, about as in-shape as a water balloon with several holes in it.

I loved the video games that featured martial arts, though. Herein, we’ll take a look at a few of the rarer kind of fighting game: the ones that treated it less like a cartoon and more like a sport… or at least made an attempt at pseudo-realism. We’re treating the Grab Bag more like a speed bag or heavy bag as we check out these “real” martial arts titles.

Best of the Best: Championship Karate

Loriciel, 1992

We’ll start off with one that was released across a ton of platforms in one incarnation or another. This game was first released as Andre Panza Kickboxing in Europe, but its release was limited and only included personal computers and the TG-16. Its better-known version was released in 1992 for the NES, Genesis, SNES, and both Amiga and DOS computer systems.

The cool part of Best of the Best is that it’s kind of a career simulator. You can’t just jump in and start collecting championship medals; you’ve got to train to get your stats up and pick your battles based on the tale of the tape. By sparring against a dummy opponent and doing various other exercises in a gym, your fighter builds his stamina, strength and speed to compete with an array of real-life kick boxers emulated within the game.

In the ring and in the gym. A true badass doesn’t waste time. Get at it.

One downfall for me was the control scheme, and I can’t even fault it completely. It’s wonderful how customizable it is, allowing you to go in and set certain moves for certain arrow/button combos, but it can become a bit harrowing to keep up with when you’re in the ring with a CPU opponent that knows what it’s doing by rote. I’d call it a labor of love to get polished with this control scheme, but it isn’t for me. The game itself is quite a commitment, between training and matches… but then, it’s realism we wanted, right?

Budokan: The Martial Spirit

Electronic Arts, 1989

This title saw a broad release across tons of computer and console formats, and received mixed reviews. An earnest attempt at depicting realistic martial arts combat, both armed and unarmed, Budokan puts the player in the shoes of an aspiring student preparing to enter a grand tournament. Matches are fought against a set of variably armed opponents, and during the tournament the player may select from four methods of fighting: the staff, nunchaku, kendo (a rattan sword meant to simulate a katana or similar weapon), or unarmed karate. The CPU opponents are not limited to these weapons, and the player may only choose each of his own methods four times before it is no longer available in the tournament.

This dude is, in fact, serious with this shit.

There are also areas for practicing the four methods of combat, though this game lacks the stat-leveling system present in Best of the Best. The practice is literal, meant to sharpen the actual player’s skill. This practice also helps build an understanding of how ki and stamina work in the game; ki is built up in defense against attacks and then released in your own offense, and stamina is a rough representation of how much punishment you can take. When a fighter’s stamina bottoms out, they’re done.

The controls, yet again, are a little unwieldy and take a bit to get used to. Once you do, however, the big challenge is timing as you learn to adapt to other combatants’ styles and patterns. It’s helpful to at least glance at the pre-fight screens that describe your opponents; each one hints at their style and how one might overcome it. It’s just as tricky to select a good weapon to match your foe’s, since like vs like is not always the ideal strategy. I enjoy the concept of this game overall, as it’s just as cerebral as it is “physical.” It’s not just whack-a-mole. As an aside, the Amiga version has fantastic music and may be the best overall version of the game.

Bushido Blade

Light Weight/Square, 1997

It’s time to dip into some fifth-gen shit. I figured this was a great title to start with. You know how in so many fighting games, everyone has a life bar and every brutal injury takes only a fraction of it? Well, not in Bushido Blade. When you step onto this low-poly battlefield, things get real.

There is a story mode in the game that varies slightly for each character, and not only involves fighting various other figures in the plot but also series of ninjas and other challenges. While the single-player game is wonderful and challenging, it’s not what I’m here to talk about. I’m focusing on the VS. Mode.

You and a CPU opponent or another player face off with a choice of weapons in a fight to the death. When I say “to the death,” I don’t mean until some abstract yellow bar is empty. I mean, you fight until someone is on the ground gushing blood. And that doesn’t take as much contact as you think.

Striking and blocking at different angles and heights can be achieved with fairly simple button/arrow combos, and there’s even a little acrobatic work you can do to present a harder target to your opponent. A lazy or hasty strike can leave you open for a counter-attack, and a good hit to a limb will render it useless. Many matches will end swiftly, however, as a blow to the head or torso creates a catastrophic blood-spurt and a sudden defeat. Some of the selectable characters are better-trained with one or another type of weapon, and this is worth reading up on or figuring out. For instance, Kannuki is great with the big power weapons. Give him that broadsword or hammer and watch him smash through an opponent’s defenses.

The graphics are as good as any other early PS1 release, and the sound is killer also. Most fights have no background music, which seems oddly appropriate. The only sounds are those of desperate one-on-one combat.

WEIGHING IN

Best of the Best: 5/10 (It’s really cool, but the controls are occasionally baffling. Visually smooth though.)

Budokan: 6/10 (Great for its time, I think the Amiga version wins out presentation-wise.)

Bushido Blade: 8/10 (One of my favorite PS1 games, hands down.)