Showing posts with label zombies ate my neighbours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zombies ate my neighbours. Show all posts

16/10/2018

GHOUL PATROL (SNES)

And now, the videogame equivalent of returning to a place where you spent many happy childhood holidays only to find it a little run-down, with some of the fondly-remembered attractions shuttered and replaced by chain restaurants, the bitter-sweet tang of nostalgia tightening in your throat. It’s LucasArts’ 1994 SNES game Ghoul Patrol!


I’m not sure what they were going for with that title. Is it supposed to rhyme? Surely not, then it’d be Ghoul Patrool. Is it a monstrous spin on School Patrol and we’re going to be playing as an undead lollipop lady? No, it’s not that either. But it does contain the world “ghoul” and there are flaming skulls on the title screen so at least we know it’s suitable for the Halloween Spooktacular.


The first thing to do after hitting start is to select your character. You’ve got a choice of monster-slaying teens: the crossbow-wielding and sensibly-dressed Julie, or Zeke, a hunchback carrying a piece of scaffolding. These plucky young heroes might look familiar to you, and that’s because Zeke and Julie were also the stars of the wonderful 16-bit run-n-gun classic and supremely Halloween-y game Zombies Ate My Neighbors. That’s right, Ghoul Patrol is a sequel to Zombies Ate My Neighbors, just without the Zombies Ate My Neighbors name. I bloody love ZAMN, so hopefully Ghoul Patrol will scratch the same itch.


One thing that Ghoul Patrol has that Zombies Ate My Neighbors didn’t is a story. Okay, so ZAMN obviously did have a story, but it was conveyed simply and effectively by the game being called “Zombies Ate My Neighbors.” What I mean is that Ghoul Patrol has something resembling a plot, beginning with Zeke and Julie checking out an exhibition about ghosts and demons at their local library. My local library just has books, and DVDs for rent that are too scratched to watch nine times out of ten. I’m kinda jealous.


The exhibit contains a floating magical grimoire inscribed with an incantation for summoning demons. In a real Ash-from-The-Evil-Dead moment, Zeke reads the incantation out loud and hey, that’s how you end up on a ghoul patrol. Having already suffered through one neighbour-eating adventure, Zeke and Julie know that ghosts, vampires, werewolves and maniacal, murderous children’s dolls are all real things that exist, so you’d think they’d be a bit more careful around the evil monster-summoning tomes. That said, they did repel the previous monster invasion by using water pistols and throwing cutlery, so perhaps they figure they’ve got it covered.


The demon king lays out his plan to conquer all of the “time dimensions,” so it looks like Ghoul Patrol is going to see our heroes travelling to the past. It was nice of the demon king to tell us this, wasn’t it? Mind you, he’s been locked in that chest for hundreds of years so he’s probably just desperate for any kind of conversation.


There are no time shenanigans at the very beginning of the game, and the first stage takes place in the very library in which the kids meddled with dark cosmic forces. Right from the off it’s clear that Ghoul Patrol is very much the same kind of game as its predecessor – a top-down shooter where your goal is to escape each stage by rescuing all the survivors. There’s a survivor over on the right, the old man in the rocking chair. You start with ten survivors, and once you’ve saved them all the exit door opens up and you can move on. The twist is that that the survivors can also be killed by the monsters that roam each level, and if all the survivors are killed it’s game over. Oh, and the number of dead survivors carries over between stages so if, for instance, you saved seven out of the ten survivors but three of them died, you’d start the next stage with only seven available survivors. This isn’t much of a problem early on, when the monsters are still warming up and aren’t quite ready to begin feasting upon the flesh of the living, so we can take a moment to get used to controlling our chosen monster fighter.


One area where Ghoul Patrol does differ from Zombies Ate My Neighbors is the range of movement options at your disposal. In ZAMN all you could really do was walk and swim, and the swimming was basically walking but underwater. In Ghoul Patrol, however, you can walk and even run by holding down the attack button a la Super Mario, you can jump and you’ve got a slide move that comes in handy for avoiding attacks. The fact that you can jump is a bit worrying, because ZAMN was perfectly fine without it and my fear is that Ghoul Patrol will start introducing jumping puzzles later in the game, but for now it’s mostly used to hopping onto desks to collect items.


As promised by the ghosts and demons exhibit, here’s a ghost and a demon. The ghost is surely of the same genealogical line as Slimer from Ghostbusters, while the demon is a traditional pitchfork-poking imp with the ability to launch a trail of hellfire along the ground. The other enemies in this stage include flying books and possessed photocopiers, so it’s not exactly the most coherent theme. I’m okay with that, though, and so far the monsters have looked pretty neat. I’m especially fond of the formation-flying hordes of oversized eyeballs that form into spinning circles. I admire both their precision flying skills and the courage they must possess to attack someone armed with a crossbow. It’s difficult to think of a more terrifying weapon for an eyeball to face. Boudoir photography of Nigel Farage, possibly.


Save everybody in the library and it’s on to the city streets for the next stage, where there are indeed zombies and the people they’re trying to eat are presumably someone’s neighbours. That “save me!” text bubble isn’t emanating from the zombie, by the way. No, their decomposing bodies don’t still contain a fragment of their pre-death personalities, a sliver of humanity that is fully aware of the monster they’ve become. That’s pro-zombie propaganda. The text is coming from a nearby survivor that needs rescuing, and the speech bubbles appear from the direction they’re located in so you can track them down. ZAMN had a little radar instead. It was much more useful.


Other foes on this stage include green, bin-dwelling monsters that clearly deserve the epithet “The Grouch” more than certain other Muppets. Oh, and cars. You can get hit by a car. They’re not evil cars or anything. No Christines here, I’m afraid.
You can’t shoot the cars, but obviously the other monsters need to be slain and so we come to Ghoul Patrol’s selection of weapons. In short, they’re rubbish. Just super disappointing. You’ve always got a crossbow that has infinite ammo and fires a weak, fairly short range projectile. You can also find a  gun that fires slightly more powerful pellets in a straight line, a laser that shoots moderately powerful projectiles in a straight line, a homing blaster with projectiles that never seem to head towards the thing you want to kill and a mortar that fires projectiles in an upwards arc and is therefore completely useless against monsters that are close to you.


This selection represents such a downgrade from Zombies Ate My Neighbors’ arsenal that I had a genuine “wait, really?” reaction. ZAMN had a wide range of weapons that were both comical and charming and had plenty of utility, from crucifixes that surrounded you with a monster-slaying aura or bazookas that could knock down walls to stacks of plates and weed-whackers. They helped sell the game as two kids fighting off monsters in their neighbourhood with whatever they could find, a feeling that is completely absent from Ghoul Patrol’s characterless, generic weapons. The sequel also removes the concept of certain monsters being weak to specific weapons; for example, ZAMN’s silver cutlery killed werewolves in one hit, and just like in the movies the blobs were vulnerable to the cold of the popsicles. There’s none of that in Ghoul Patrol as far as I could tell, and as a result there’s little reason to pick one weapon over another – don’t use the crossbow unless you have to, and otherwise just use whatever weapon you have the most ammo for.


Ghoul Patrol also excises some of ZAMN’s special items, like the screen-clearing Pandora’s Box and the inflatable decoy clowns. I know, we’re all disappointed that we won’t be seeing a chainsaw maniac attack a blow-up clown, but on the plus side the potion that temporarily transforms your character into an invincible monster did make the transition. In ZAMN you became a hulking purple creature but in Ghoul Patrol the potions transform you into Death itself. That is quite an upgrade, and it’s nice to finally see something in Ghoul Patrol that I can confidently say improves upon ZAMN. As the Grim Reaper you can fly around, taking out monsters with your scythe and generally enjoying feeling powerful for a change, although conceptually it makes little sense – surely Death would hold no dominion over undead creatures like ghosts and zombies? Can’t argue with Death taking out a flying eyeball, mind.


The next two stages play out very similarly, and they take place in a hotel and an apartment building respectively so they look quite similar too. The main purpose of these stages, especially the hotel, seems to be to cause you to waste as many keys as possible because half the rooms have multiple, redundant, locked doors. It took me a while to realise that to make progress you have to climb out of an exterior window and make your way around the ledge on the outside of the building, which ended up being more nerve-wracking than any number of monsters because you can’t defeat gravity with a crossbow.


Then there’s a boss. Considering this is a horror-themed game I’m surprised that said boss is a big police robot. I was expecting a large ghost or a huge demon or, if the developers were feeling especially cheeky, a skyscraper-scaling off-brand marshmallow monster. But no, we get a robot cop. It’s got a badge and a siren on its head, and it likes to stomp around a lot. This is where your slide move comes in handy, because it’s good for getting out of the way when the robot tries to jump on you. The boss fights are also the best place to use up all your mortar ammunition, because they’re so big that you don’t have to worry about your shots arcing over them. However, my top tip is to use a Grim Reaper potion and lay into the boss with your scythe. Standing inside the boss’s sprite and pressing the attack button until it explodes might sound boring, but honestly it’s no less interesting that sliding back and forth and getting a few shots in where you can and it’s a hell of a lot faster.


With Officer Tincan taken care of – and we can safely assume he was one day away from retirement anyway – the “time dimension” part of the game kicks in and our heroes are transported to a time and place that the game’s manual calls Ancient China. It’s packed with lots of famously Chinese things, like samurai warriors, geisha and trees with pink blossoms. Hmm. The stages in Ancient China are a little more open than the urban levels and consequently play better, giving you more room to avoid the skeleton samurai and the floating monks. You really want to avoid the skeleton samurai in particular, because if they get close enough to attack then they’ll “stick” to you until you destroy them. This is a common tactic of the game’s more powerful enemies, and it’s very easy to be overwhelmed by a swarm of monsters. It’d be nice if your attacks pushed enemies back a bit, but c’est la vie.


The Chinese levels are quite good fun on the whole, and I’ve done a lot of complaining about Ghoul Patrol so far but it is a decent little game for the most part. Roaming around the levels and fighting hideous creatures? It’s fine. Maybe slightly better than fine, especially because you can transform into a Grim Reaper. However, one thing that absolutely will not stand is that the game includes these big gongs and you can’t interact with them. Why would you do that? If I become the physical embodiment of the inescapable end and I hit a gong with my scythe I expect a “bong” sound at the very least.


Some nice graphics, though. I especially like these little scenes painted on the walls of the buildings, and there’s a lot of detail in all of the game’s backgrounds, so there’s plenty of opportunity to do a bit of sightseeing.


The boss here is a sword-wielding demon warrior with an interesting look, and that look is “action figure from a poorly-received toy line that a kid threw away because its legs fell off.” Naturally you don’t want to be standing in front of this thing for too long, because that’s a big sword and frankly I had trouble figuring out exactly where its hitbox was. Oh, and it can throw shurikens around, too. Fortunately I’ve been saving up Grim Reaper potions. The other option would be to fight it properly, which I wouldn’t recommend because this (and every other) boss in the game has far, far too much health, turning the fight into a gruelling slog even if you do figure out an optimal non-potion strategy. Even if the bosses had their health pools reduced by seventy-five percent that’d still be too much goddamn health.


Yo ho ho, it’s a pirate-themed world next. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not totally on-board with pirates as part of the Halloween season, but there are also zombies clawing out of their graves in search of tender human flesh, so it all balances out. Watch out for those graves, by the way.  Whoever dug them must have had a very large shovel and a five-gallon drum of Red Bull, because they’re actually bottomless pits that’ll kill you if you fall down them.


Naturally there are some thematically appropriate new enemies here on Undead Pirate Island, most notably these, erm, undead pirates. They’re this game’s equivalent of ZAMN’s chainsaw maniacs, I suppose, in that they take a bunch of hits to knock down and then they might get back up again anyway – except you don’t have anything as interesting as the bazooka or the fire extinguisher to deal with them. Maybe I won’t deal with them. I ain’t Jim Hawkins over here, I don’t need this hassle. I’ll just hop into the water and swim to my destination!


Ah. This could have gone better. Now, Halloween sharks? That I can get behind. I know sharks are unfairly vilified and their mass slaughter is a real ecological issue, but slap a witch’s hat on them or fill their mouths with a sack of plastic vampire fangs and we could be looking at the breakout star of this year’s Halloween season.


In the final stage of this world you board a pirate ship, which is less interesting than it sounds although admittedly it’s rare to see a pirate ship with rugs on the floors. I hope they’ve put something under those rugs to stop them slipping, getting around on a pirate ship must be hard enough when the seas are rough and you’ve got a stick for a leg.
You can see the stage exit in the screenshot above, and it’s time for Ghoul Patrol to once again be compared negatively to its predecessor. In ZAMN, once you rescue all the survivors the exit appears right next to you. In Ghoul Patrol, the exit door appears… somewhere. You have to track it down in the same way you do with the survivors, and if your last rescue was at the opposite side of the map to where the exit appears then you’ve got a pointless, health and ammo-draining trek across the stage to find it. Let’s just add this fact to the increasingly long list of baffling changes from the original game, shall we?


Yet more undead pirates with the boss, a large undead pirate. Does he shoot at you with his gun and slash at you with his hook? Yes. Should you use the same strategy as the previous boss battles? Also yes. Does he look suspiciously like LeChuck from the cover art of Monkey Island 2? Wow, three yeses in a row.


A medieval world of castles and magical knights is next. Finally, my crossbow makes sense! Nice of the game to place a knight that needs rescuing up on that parapet, a place that I can’t possibly reach before that demon knight kills him. That’s helpful. I suppose the saving grace is that every dead survivor makes the following stage quicker to complete.


I want these stages to be quicker to complete. The more I play of Ghoul Patrol, the more its idiosyncrasies frustrate and annoy me. Take the doorways in this castle, for example. They’re not bloody big enough! Sure, you can fit through them, but you have to line yourself up far more precisely than you’d expect or you won’t pass though, slowing down the gameplay and leaving you vulnerable to being nibbled to death by hovering skulls because Zeke is acting like a dog with a big stick in its mouth trying to get through a hole in a fence. If the doorways were slightly larger it wouldn’t be an issue, and it’s not like the challenge of the game should hinge upon it being hard to get through doors.


Even simple movement is grating on my nerves at this point, with your character feeling sluggish and slow to respond. I think they’re supposed to have momentum, but it doesn’t quite feel right. I suspect those potions contain the essence of the Grim Reaper and half a litre of vodka. That’d go some way to explaining it. I did wonder whether it was an unconscious bias and maybe ZAMN handled in the same way but nope, I went and checked and ZAMN’s controls are pin-sharp. What is going on with you, Ghoul Patrol? I had such high hopes for you, but you’re turning out to be a real disappointment. Oh Christ, now I know how my parents feel.


Another day, another boss without legs. I assume they’re all legless so you can see your character when they’re hovering above you, but it does lend them all the appearance of pieces from an extremely ugly chess set. This undead knight has brought a shield with him so, like, don’t shoot him in the shield. That’s what he wants.
If I’m starting to get a bit weary of Ghoul Patrol’s regular gameplay, then I am one hundred percent done with the boss battles. They’re all boring, over-long iterations on the same theme, testing not the player’s skill but their ability to collect magic potions. Get back to scaring people away from an old amusement park, you Scooby-Doo reject.


The final world – and by world I mean one stage and the final boss – is set in Hell. The manual calls  it by the rather inelegant name “Ghosts and Demon World” but yeah, it’s Hell. Tortured prisoners, spike pits, jumping sections where the punishingly ugly background makes it difficult to see where you’re jumping to; yep, looks like Hell to me.


There’s an H. R. Giger-inspired look to the backgrounds, because of course there is. Giger is surely up there with Henry Ford when it comes to influencing what people think Hell would look like. This isn’t a complaint, because this stage is more interesting to look at than the pirate ship or the castle, and I’d have liked to see more of it even if it does represent a departure from the colourful, kitschy style that helped make ZAMN so much fun. That’s Ghoul Patrol’s problem, really – it can’t seem to decide whether it wants to break away from its predecessor or not. I think it would have been a more interesting game had it done its own thing – at the very least, it would have minimised unflattering comparisons to ZAMN.


Holy crap, a boss with legs! All the better to stomp you with, and the Demon Lord does like to stomp. Like all self-respecting demons, the big bad can breath fire and has a face that could proudly grace any eighties heavy metal album cover, although it must have a hard time buying hats. Can you tell I’m struggling for anything interesting to say about this? Nice, uh, loincloth, I guess. Thank you for sparing us the sight of the lil’ demon. Don’t you have a Warhammer 40,000 battle to get back to? I’m just going to turn into the Grim Reaper and perform a scythe-based hamstringectomy, then we can all get back to our regular lives. Sound good? Good.


The Demon Lord is once again sealed away in the chest / grimoire – the game isn’t really clear on which – and Ghoul Patrol has come to an end. Zeke is hungry, or so says the caption. Read that text again and tell me you’re not imagining Zeke saying it in the voice of someone awkwardly reading off a teleprompter. And, erm, that’s it. If you too want to be transported to a world of excitement and adventure, visit your local library! For books, I mean, not demon portals.


Okay, so Ghoul Patrol is a slightly-above-average SNES run-n-gunner. I am opposed to the very concept of numerical review scores and I don’t really consider VGJunk articles to be reviews anyway, but Ghoul Patrol is a six out of ten. The controls are a bit awkward, the weapons are dull and the stages are often annoyingly laid out, but when you get into the groove on one of the better stages it’s a perfectly acceptable monster-splattering adventure. The problem with Ghoul Patrol is that there’s no need to play it, because it is inferior to Zombies Ate My Neighbors in every way. I suppose you could argue that the graphics are more technically accomplished and finely detailed and therefore “better,” but personally I prefer the cleaner look and more characterful sprites of ZAMN. The gameplay is definitely worse, though. Slower, less interesting, more heavily focussed on key collecting, terrible boss battles: it just doesn’t reach the same heights as ZAMN. The soundtrack isn’t nearly as good either, but that one’s more understandable because personally I think ZAMN has one of the best and most overlooked soundtracks on the SNES. The biggest issue for me, however, is that Ghoul Patrol just doesn’t have that same sense of fun that pervades ZAMN, that wacky B-movie atmosphere is watered down for a series of fairly generic city / medieval / pirate worlds, like a 16-bit version of The Crystal Maze. Maybe I’m being too harsh on it, though. It does let you play as Death, after all. Now we just need a spin-off game where you can become Dracula’s close friend and confidante.


When I covered Zombies Ate My Neighbors it scored a full ten out of ten on the Halloween-O-Meter, because it’s a game where you fight pretty much every famous Halloween monster except witches. The same cannot be said for Ghoul Patrol, but it does have zombies, ghosts and floating skulls, so scoring it anything less than an eight would probably be unfair. It could so easily have been a ten, though. A pumpkin here and there, maybe a boss that was a Frankenstein with no legs. Ah, what could have been.

31/10/2012

ZOMBIES ATE MY NEIGHBORS (SNES / GEN)

Well would you look at that, it's Hallowe'en already. Happy Hallowe'en, everybody! It sure came around quick this year - I feel like I've only just recovered from getting my backside repeatedly kicked by Ghosts'n Goblins, and that was three weeks ago. So, the bats have left the belltower and the victims have been bled, but there's still time for me to cap off the VGJunk Hallowe'en Spooktacular with one last article, a long and loving look at a cult classic filled with more monsterosity that a were-vampire with a Jack O' Lantern for a head. That game is Lucasarts and Konami’s 1993 B-Movie-em-up Zombies Ate My Neighbors.


I've talked before about those rare games that seem to burst out of their consoles and embed themselves firmly into the squishier areas of your brain, the games that feel like they were made specifically for you, and Zombies Ate My Neighbors definitely slots into that category for me, alongside titles like God Hand, Silent Hill 2 and Night Slashers. I loved it when I first played it as a kid and I still love it now, so this article is going to mostly consist of me gushing about how great it is. Hell, it's my site and sometimes it just feels good to love (and kill my clones with gardening tools, but we'll get to that.)
First things first, let's meet the heroes of Zombies Ate My Neighbors. They're a swell couple of kids!


The young man on the left, the one with the winsome smile and the hair that implies he just shoved some part of his body into an electrical socket, his name is Zeke. Zeke could literally not be happier that the world is being destroyed by monsters. He hasn't felt joy like this since he strangled his twin sister while they were still in the womb.
The girl's name is Julie, and the slight hesitance in her smile suggests she feels more of a nervous apprehension about the situation than Zeke's outright glee, but she'll do her best to save the world and look fabulous while doing it. Go ahead and pick one of these kids, it doesn't matter which because they play identically, and once you've made your choice then Zombies Ate My Neighbors can begin. But what kind of game is it?


At the time (and still to this day) Lucasarts were known for their point-and-click graphic adventures, with big, bold, and above all funny games like Monkey Island, Sam and Max and Day of the Tentacle being what they did best. With ZAMN, however, they opted for a completely different gameplay style and produced a top-down shooter that was directly inspired by the classic arcade titles Robotron and Smash TV. You move your chosen kid around, point them at enemies and press fire, hopefully killing the bad guys before they kill you.
There's a bit more to it than that, though. The title is slightly misleading, because not all of your neighbours had their flesh devoured by the living dead and it's your job to save those that remain.


When the first level begins, you have ten neighbours to save. They're dotted around the level, standing on the spot and trying their damnedest to ignore the monster apocalypse that rages all around them by doing things like grilling burgers or bouncing on trampolines. They seem pretty resigned to their grisly fates, but Zeke and Julie have no respect for these peoples' decision to calmly face their death and must rescue them all whether they want you to or not. Once you've rescued all ten neighbours, (by walking into them,) the exit appears and you can head to the next stage. You're not the only one out to get the neighbours, of course, and if you let a monster reach a neighbour then that neighbour is killed and the next stage will only have nine neighbours to rescue. Each time a neighbour dies, the amount of neighbours you need to save to progress is reduced by one, and if that counter reaches zero then it's game over.


In a grim twist, Lucasarts have passed judgement on the worth of each of these human lives by assigning them a points value. The teachers give you a mere 10 points (and an F-) when rescued, while babies' souls are apparently only worth slightly more than those of dogs, coming in at 700 and 500 points respectively. At the very top of the pile are cheerleaders, Earth's most important commodity and worth a whopping 1,000 points. That's right, according to these points values Lucasarts would rather see one hundred teachers die than lose one cheerleader.


Tough fuckin' luck, Mars - our cheerleader are far too valuable to be given over to your slimy alien desires.


I think the soldiers are my favourites, because not only are they usually standing near weapons but they're also the only neighbours to show any kind of reaction to the shambling horrors that now walk the earth. It's a pretty good reaction, too - those googly eyes are great, and in their terror they have dropped their bazookas so that Zeke, a teenage boy, can pick them and use them. I think the human race is going to be juuust fine, folks.


Zombies Ate My Neighbors is a simple game, but one that's executed with a degree of quality, of finesse, of sheer good-ness to rival any action game on the SNES (there's also a Genesis / Megadrive version and it is excellent, but I prefer the SNES version, which is where all the screenshots in this article are taken from.) The gameplay is spot on, with fast and responsive controls, a plethora of different weapons and items and even sections that will require some strategy and planning. Like I said, it's a simple concept executed with skill, but the thing that lifts this game above others of its genre and makes it a minor classic is the presentation. From the enemies to the music to the weapon concepts, everything in ZAMN is a charmingly goofy parody of B-Movie horror that strikes the perfect spooky-cutesy Hallowe'en chord, so if late October is your favourite time of year then this may well be the game for you.


Normally I'd go through the game stage-by-stage, but ZAMN has over fifty levels so I'd probably still be here next Hallowe'en if I did that. Instead, here's a breakdown of the various elements which, when added together, make Zombies Ate My Neighbors such a pleasure to play.


Firstly, locations. The first few stages follow a suburban theme, but it's not long before the scope of Zeke and Julie's "neighbourhood" expands to include shopping malls, factories, lagoons and, um, ancient Egyptian pyramids.


Look, there have to be mummies in this game and where else are these mummies going to come from, huh? The mall? I think not. So, the "neighbours" of the title refers not to the people who live on the same street as you but to the global neighbourhood, where all the peoples of the world are neighbours in spirit, man (although the cheerleaders will reign over us all, naturally.)
The pyramids are nice and everything, but they're not one of my favourite backdrops. Personally I think the suburban stages are great, where mysterious meteors have crashed in back yards, solitary lampposts shine in the twilight and our heroes are free to loot the abandoned houses for power-ups - it's amazing how many people keep bazookas under their kitchen sink. The rarely-seen office setting is another highlight, although I think I might be able to detect some hostility from the Lucasarts staff toward their working conditions.


My favourites are the "castle" stages, usually appearing in connection with ZAMN's sort-of antagonist Dr. Tongue. The castle backdrops are Lucasarts' attempt to capture the raw essence of every mad scientist's lair, from the Universal monster movies of the Thirties up to the Hammer horrors of the seventies, and recreate them in sixteen bits. Sinister suits of armour line the halls, red velvet drapes hang from the walls and roaring fireplaces can be extinguished to reveal secret passageways.


There are also plenty of dungeons, and just look at the detail on that brickwork and the scattered bones. Probably best not to wonder why there's a baby locked away in the crypt, especially as this castle is owned by someone called "Doctor Tongue." Whatever the baby is for, I'm sure it has to do with mad science because when you've got a laboratory as well-appointed as this then by god, you just gotta start tampering with dark forces beyond man's ken!


Bubbling vats of unidentified liquid? Check. Big, clunky levers? Check. Strange coils that pointlessly launch electricity into the air? Check and check. This place makes the Large Hadron Collider look like a Fisher-Price kitchen set. It's not real science unless you've got coloured liquids flowing through curly tubes and the local villagers are stocking up on pitchfork handles and torch oil.
Of course, these stages would be pretty barren if they weren't packed with every kind of hideous fiend ever to grace the silver screen, and Zombies Ate My Neighbors is not lacking in the monster department - in fact, the game's working title was simply "Monsters" until it received it's now-familiar name. Here in Europe the name was changed to the rather more banal Zombies!, although this was apparently because the game's European distributors thought that a simpler name would sell better and not because the idea of zombies eating neighbours was considered too violent.
Monsters, then. The key ingredient in the ZAMN stew. Let's meet some of them now!


Obviously, there are zombies. The title promised zombies, and zombies you shall have - they're the most common enemy in the game, crawling from the ground in almost every level and offering little in the way of a challenge. They're slow, they're feeble and it doesn’t take much to kill them; think of them as an elderly relative, except they want to strip the flesh from your bones instead of giving you embarrassing public kisses.
The devil dolls are introduced early, and boy are they a step up from the zombies. These tiny axe-wielding terrors are mostly found in the mall stages, bursting from their environmentally-unfriendly packaging with a laugh so creepy Ed Gein would have used it as a ringtone and heading straight for you (or more accurately, your ankles) with nothing but murder on their tiny plastic minds. Even killing them isn't always enough, because sometimes they burst into flames and stumble around on fire until you put them out for good. The very worst thing about them? If you try to hit them with the bazooka, they simply duck underneath the shell. What little bastards.
On the right, the monster is... you!? No, it's not some "mankind is the true monster" deal but instead a Zeke doppelganger created Invasion of the Body Snatchers-style by some sinister plant life. They only move when you do, which leaves you feeling a strange sense of control over them as you walk the monster - the monster wearing your own face - into the whirling blades of your weed-whacker.


The guy on the left here represents the most modern monster in ZAMN's menagerie - the masked serial killer. He's got a chainsaw and he puts it to good use by carving his way through walls to get close to you. In the European version his chainsaw was replaced with an axe and any reference to him being a "chainsaw maniac" was changed to describe him as a lumberjack. I don't know why the censors of the day decided that death by chainsaw is less acceptable than death by axe. Maybe it's because petrol costs so much more over here and they didn't want to encourage the squandering of unrenewable natural resources.
The other two monster pictured above are products of Fifties sci-fi - the bug-eyed Martian (complete with ray-gun) and the mutated giant ant. The Martians, as an earlier title card may have informed you, have come to Earth for one thing - Mars needs cheerleaders! Is that why the cheerleaders are so valuable, because we're using them as a commodity to barter with the hyper-advanced Martians? That must have been an interesting first meeting. "What have you come for? Water? Minerals? Fossil fuels?" "NO-WE-WANT-THE-BLONDE-WHO-CAN-DO-CARTWHEELS."


Also with a Fifties pedigree are the blobs, one of the most frustrating enemies in the game thanks to their habit of covering your head in slime, leaving you unable to do anything besides run around blindly as you slowly suffocate to death (or lose a few health points, whatever).
We're reaching the upper end of the monster aristocracy with the mummy and the gill-man, with both of them being just outside the elite spots occupied by the likes of Dracula and Frankenstein's Monster. At least, I think the mummy is down there, maybe they're actually higher up than werewolves? Someone should make a chart.
While the mummies are pretty much just tougher zombies, the gill-men pose a threat not only on the land but also in the water - they're the only enemies that can hurt you while you're submerged, and they can swim faster than you, too. They are sea monsters, after all. I still like to see them around, though, because when you kill one they explode into a light rain of fish that flap around on the ground and it's really very charming.


Possible werewolf/mummy inversion aside, here we have the big three Hallowe'en monsters. They're fairly uncommon enemies to face in the game and more difficult to kill than most for a variety of reasons - the Frankensteins have tons of health, the vampires never stay still long enough for you to do a lot of damage in one go and the werewolves are very quick to leap on your face and start eating it.
Of these three, the werewolves are the most common and also the most infuriating. This is because certain stages start in the daytime and gradually shift to night, and if you don't rescue them before darkness falls any "tourist" neighbours will shed their human forms and turn into werewolves. Zombies ate my neighbours, except some of them turned into werewolves and I think Suzie from down the road was abducted by aliens right after the big football game. Now there's a title for the European market to get their teeth into, vampire pun most definitely intended.
Speaking of the vampire, a nice little nod to Konami's Castlevania franchise appears in the manual, where the vampire's name is listed as "Vlad Belmont." I wonder if he whips himself. Wait, no I don't.
Those are the standard enemies, and they're what you'll be fighting for most of the game (I did miss a couple out). For a shoot-em-up, though, ZAMN is surprisingly light on the boss front.


There are enemies called Snakeoids, giant tunneling worms that owe so much of a debt to the graboids from Tremors that the graboids will be sending someone round to break their thumbs, but they don't really feel like bosses, just big enemies that take a lot of hits to kill. There are a couple of enemies that I would definitely categorise as bosses, however, and it's hard to think of a colossal baby throwing a devastating tantrum as anything other than a "boss."


If you look closely, you can see that Zeke has been crushed flat beneath the titanic toddler's feet. Given the various fluids that babies are forever issuing forth from various parts of their bodies, combined with the increase in size from "cutesy" to "valid target for a nuclear strike," I think getting stepped on was a spot of good fortune.
You fight the giant baby a few times, but apart from that the only other major boss is the final one, Dr. Tongue.


I know, not very threatening, right? Well, that's because you don't know about Dr. Tongue's habit of drinking out of Erlenmeyer flasks. Put any liquid in any vaguely sciencey-looking container and Dr. Tongue will slug it back without hesitation or fear. It's like he's attempting a one-man recreation of the lab scene from Gremlins 2. Most of the time the potion makes him disappear, but in the final stage it has the rather more dramatic effect of turning him into a giant spider.


I have to say, as mutated, oversized bugs go, that thing is adorable. Look at those big round eyes! And he's fluffy, too. If he wasn't constantly firing webbing at me, I'd be trying to give him a hug. Dr. Tongue made a serious miscalculation with this one, but don't worry - he's got a back-up potion.


Okay, now I don't want to hug him. It seems strange that, after going to all the effort of meticulously creating the B-movie atmosphere for the game, the final boss is just a floating head and very frustrating one to fight, at that. I know there were plenty of ropey movies about sentient body parts, but it still feels like a bit of a cop-out and is one of the few things that I dislike about ZAMN.
So those are the monsters, a fiendish bunch if ever there was one, but luckily Zeke and Julie have plenty of weapons at their disposal to help them clean up the neighbourhood, and when I say "at their disposal" I mean "waiting to be picked up off the ground".


There are no powerful military-grade weapons for you to use, (okay, there's one,) no space-age rayguns, (again, there's one,) and the kids must make do with everyday items they find scattered around the various stages. You start with a water pistol, presumably loaded with holy water because as weak as the zombies are surely even they wouldn't explode when spritzed with stuff from the tap, and as you progress you'll collect all kinds of goodies. Mostly they're different projectiles, ranging from popsicles to cutlery to plates, but there are also plenty that differ in function. One of the most useful items is the fire extinguisher, because it can freeze enemies in place while you get the hell out of there and is especially handy against the otherwise extremely durable chainsaw maniacs. The weed-whacker is also a personal favourite - it has a very short range, but because it attacks so quickly you can do a lot of damage with it, and I like the idea of an ancient pharaoh rising from his tomb only to be sliced to ribbons by Flymo's finest.


One of the great things about ZAMN is that the weapons aren't simply a bunch of projectiles ranked in order of increasing power - they often have multiple uses. The weed-whacker, unsurprisingly, can be used to cut down the deadly mushrooms that grow across the ground as well as clearing up spider webs. The American footballs can be thrown to the quarterbacks that roam certain levels for a "Pass Completion" points bonus. The bazooka, perhaps even more so than for killing enemies, is fantastic for blowing down walls and creating shortcuts through hedges.


Not only that, but enemies are also affected differently by some weapons, usually by being weak to a specific attack, and if you know your horror movies you'll probably be able to figure most of them out yourself. I've seen The Blob and I know it can't stand the cold, so throwing popsicles at ZAMN's jelly-blob monsters seemed like a good idea. It was, and they died instantly. Werewolves don't like having knives and forks thrown at them - I mean, no-one does, but in the werewolves' case it's even more understandable because flying cutlery kills werewolves outright. Why? Well, they can traditionally only be killed by a silver bullet, and Zeke didn't have the time to melt down the family silverware. He's got a strong thowin' arm, that kid. It's a fun, very organic-feeling system that lets you discover what weapons work without it ever feeling laboured or forced upon you.
There are other items to collect as well as weapons - keys and health packs will be the most familiar to shoot-em-up fans, but there are some other things that can help you out.


Clowns! Clowns can help you out. No, really, it's not some plot to carve you open and remove your organs as part of their hellish clown rituals - you can collect inflatable clowns that, when dropped, serve as decoys and attract nearby enemies. They're great for letting you slip past large crowds of monsters, and it's always nice to see a clown being torn apart by a masked man with a chainsaw.
The other really useful item is the red potion. The player takes a leaf out of Dr. Tongue's book and chugs down a mysterious red liquid that transforms them into...


...a big, invincible, purple monster that's really good at punching things. I particularly like transforming Julie into the monster, because she still wears her baseball cap perched jauntily atop her newly-enlarged head. These potions can be an absolute godsend, especially when you're fighting something like the snakeoids, and if you're playing in two-player mode then prepare for some Gauntlet-style arguments as both players race to pick them up.
I've discussed how excellent the graphics are, cartoony and wonderfully detailed, but one part of the presentation that shouldn't be overlooked is the brilliant soundtrack. Composed by Joe McDermott, it's a fantastic blend of B-movie clichés: wavering theremins, dramatic church organs and mysterious voice samples, all woven together into an irresistible and oddly cheerful set of tracks that match the Zombies Ate My Neighbors mood so perfectly that it's hard to imagine the game without them. I had a tough time decided on a favourite, but in the end I went with "Mars Needs Cheerleaders."



Honestly, every track is a classic and if you like this kind of thing then I highly recommend you listen to them all. To this day it remains one of my favourite videogame soundtracks ever, and the only thing stopping it from reaching the same lofty heights as SNES score like Chrono Trigger and Secret of Mana is the relatively small number of tracks.
It's not just the music, either - the sound design in this game is top-notch, with almost every action being paired with a sound effect so perfect you'd swear the designers recorded the actual sound of a werewolf having cutlery shoved into its face.
What else can I say about Zombies Ate My Neighbors? Well, it'd be remiss of me to not mention some of the secret levels. ZAMN is a game packed full of secrets and hidden bonuses, but none are more exciting than the bonus stages. One of the best isn't technically hidden, because you're taken to it when you defeat Dr. Tongue for the final time, but it's one hell of a way to show you the credits.


This very last stage, "Monsters Among Us," takes place in the Lucasarts office, and you can travel around the building and talk to the development staff. Here is George Lucas, telling me to get back to work. Can I repeat that? Here is George Lucas, telling me to get back to work. It definitely beats a text crawl. That's not my favourite secret in the game, however - that honour goes to this stage.


Hang on, didn't Lucasarts release a sequel to their classic adventure game Maniac Mansion called Day of the Tentacle?


Indeed they did, and this level is a neat little reference to that game, complete with swarms of Purple Tentacles filling the stage and trying to kill these meddling kids before getting back to their plans to TAKE OVER THE WORLD!! This is especially fun for me, because Day of the Tentacle is my favourite of all the classic Lucasarts adventures. Just thinking about entering that mummy in the beauty contest makes me laugh even now.


That's a lot of words about the world of ZAMN but not many about how it actually plays, so here's my take on that: it's fun. Sheer, pure fun, a simple game with smooth controls and solid mechanics that was clearly made by people who loved what they were doing. It's a fast-paced, hectic survive-em-up, especially toward the end when the number of remaining neighbours is getting low and you're dashing about the stage trying to find them all, weighing up whether to simply get through the stage as quickly as possibly or risk injury and dead neighbours in order to explore the stage and collect more items.




Don't let the colourful graphics and jolly soundtrack fool you, though: this is a difficult game, very difficult at times, with plenty of monsters that waste no time in trying to eat you - and, indeed, your neighbours - and they can take a lot of hits to kill unless you're properly prepared. "Hectic" is definitely a good word for it, and if you're looking for a challenge then ZAMN will not disappoint once you start reaching the later stages. Giant baby attacks can be brutal.


Obviously no game is perfect, and while they're fairly minor ones I do have some gripes. The big one is that the password system doesn't save the items you've collected, so if you restart using a code you'll be starting with nothing but a water pistol and your wits. This can make certain sections extremely difficult - going up against the snakeoids soon after a password restart can be damn near impossible, and even the developers themselves have stated that they wish they'd made the game easier.


There are a few other issues - when you have a lot of weapons, scrolling through them one at a time can be a frustrating experience, for example - but in the end they do little to detract from the overall Zombies Ate My Neighbors experience, and what an experience it is. For Hallowe'en fun I can't think of many games I'd rather be playing, and if you're looking for something to play when a spooky mood strikes you then I can't recommend this game enough. Just remember - Martians may love cheerleaders, but they hate tomatoes.

I think the Hallowe'en-O-Meter rating is going to be somewhat predictable...


Ten out of ten, full marks, A+ and a gold star. How could it have been anything else? Even the lack of pumpkins can't take the shine off this one.
And that's the end of this year's VGJunk Hallowe'en Spooktacular! All that remains is to say happy Hallowe'en to you all, and as always I hope you've enjoyed reading this stuff as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I foresee a night of watching Cabin in the Woods again and eating Haribo shaped like bats, but VGJunk will return soon with its usual, non-Hallowe'en flavouring. I'm missing October already.

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