22/05/2012

BATTLE MANIA / TROUBLE SHOOTER (GENESIS)

The sun is shining, there's a warm breeze and we don't have to worry about the infinite vacuum of space tearing our mortal bodies asunder, so why stay cooped up in a stuffy old cockpit when you could fly around unimpeded? That seems to be what the heroines of today's game thought, at any rate: it's time for Vic Tokai's 1992 Megadrive / Genesis jetpack shoot-em-up Battle Mania!


This one actually received a Western release under the name Trouble Shooter, so if you were thinking that it looks familiar but the name didn't ring a bell you might have played that version. While I'm always slightly confused by unnecessary inter-regional name changes, both Battle Mania and Trouble Shooter are at least accurate - manic battles are a feature, and the heroines are shooters of trouble in the truest sense. Let's meet them now, shall we?


This is Mania, known as Madison in the English-language version, a wide-eyed anime type with hair so voluminous it looks like it was carved out of polystyrene. Her parents called her Mania knowing that she'd never end up working as an accountant with a name like that, and so it has proven to be. I'll accept Madison as an alternative, though - she looks like a Madison, or at least a Madison who would live in a world where jetpacks are commonplace and two teenage girls have replaced the world's military search-and-rescue specialists.


And here's Maria, renamed to Crystal for the non-Japanese releases. Her hair is even bigger than Madison's and it's also blue, so I guess she wins that battle. She's the stern, aloof one of the pair because there's always got to be one, right? They can't just both be cheerful / unconcerned with the consequences of firing large plasma weapons in an urban environment. The girls are given a vague mission by a man with an eyepatch, and then it's time for action!


Yes, let's get busy. First you must select a special weapon, but as I don't know what any of them do I just took the first one highlighted. I'm sure I'll figure it out: a 16-bit horizontal shooter about flying anime teenagers can only be so complex.


Here we are in the first stage, already under heavy assault from a legion of mechanical death-penguins. That's penguins as in the most unthreatening birds outside fuzzy-wuzzy, newly-hatched chicks, is it? You took a look around the fauna of the polar regions and thought yes, I'll base my robot army around those harmless monochrome lumps? I'd have gone with jet-propelled polar bears, myself. Incredibly deadly, but still cute enough to be merchandised as cuddly toys after my robot armies have enslaved the Earth.


Where was I? Oh right, Battle Mania. You might have noticed that both Madison and Crystal are on screen at the same time. Am I playing this game two-player? No, of course not - I don't have any friends, and even if I had managed to bribe the local vagrants into joining me in my hermetically-sealed gaming pod Battle Mania doesn't actually have a two-player mode. Instead the game's main gimmick is that you control both girls at the same time, or rather you control Madison while Crystal hovers nearby. Pressing fire makes both girls fire their weapons: Madison has a weaker shot that can be upgraded to a spread attack, but it can only be fired from left to right, while Crystal has a more powerful, concentrated beam. Helpfully, you can press a button to make Crystal turn around and fire from right to left in order to protect Madison's vulnerable backside. Don't worry about Crystal, though - only Madison can actually take damage.


Yup, I said take damage. Battle Mania eschews the usual "one hit = lose a life" shoot-em-up blueprint in favour of a health bar, which you can see at the top-right corner of the screen. You only get one life, and once you run out of health it's Game Over - and you only get two continues. Luckily your health bar doesn't have a top limit, so if you keep your health full and pick up a health recovery item you can keep stacking up hit-points. I think the most I managed to get up to was about twenty, and that really comes in handy later on when a game like Gradius would be punishing you for dying by making you restart the whole stage with no power-ups.
I did struggle a little at the start though, simply because I was so unused to the weirdly-shaped target that is Madison. Maybe this is just me, but whenever I play a shoot-em-up like this I hardly ever actually look at my ship, and I sort of... guess where it is by assuming it's at the point where all my bullets are coming from. This isn't the case in Battle Mania, what with the two girls only being loosely connected, and I kept getting hit because I was moving the center of my firing pattern to safety instead of poor Madison herself. Quite why Crystal is completely immune to all forms of weaponry is never explained. My guess is that she's not actually there and combat trauma has caused Madison to create an imaginary companion to share the mental burden of her one-woman war: it's either that or Vic Tokai are planning to pull a Bruce-Willis-in The-Sixth-Sense "she was dead aaaalll alooong!" twist at the end.


Madison and Crystal have fought well so far, but now it's time for the stage one boss, and what a boss he is. I love this guy: he rises out of the floor, laughing a hearty laugh (complete with speech bubbles) and starts blowing kisses to the non-existent audience. Then he does nothing. No, really, he just stands there while you hold down the fire button and blast him with everything you've got, which could be considered overkill as the boss is literally standing there and doing nothing. Why are you shooting him, anyway? Is that all you know how to do now? Can you only destroy? This brief jetpack-based war has changed you, Madison.
And then the boss blows up. Of course, this is all part of his plan.


The real boss fight - and that description is being extremely generous, given how "tough" this fight is - begins as the boss's head lifts off and flies around the screen spitting the odd laser beam at you. It is not a difficult battle. Madison moves around fairly quickly, at least once you've collected a few speed-ups, and the robot dome is quickly dispatched. His battle plan may need some work, but you can't help but admire his gumption.


Between each stage you get a short cutscene, and in a rare case of gender reversal our heroines' mission is to rescue a kidnapped prince. He's extremely caucasian for someone wearing a stereotypically "Arabian" outfit, so perhaps he's like Lawrence of Arabia had T. E. Lawrence been a young anime boy. Oh wait:


That was actually a thing that happened.
The villain's reasons for kidnapping the prince are never explained. Maybe she's just lonely.


Stage two is next, and already Vic Tokai are mixing things up by making the stage scroll downwards. This place is around eighty percent saw blades, and I'm struggling to see what practical purpose this machine could have. Leading possibilities are the throat of a giant robot that eats nothing but trees, or a deathtrap for hovering teens.


Somewhere in the middle, there's a fight against a mid-boss. It should be noted that this guy is so cool that he has to wear two pairs of sunglasses at once. Thankfully the jets of steam don't hurt you; they just push you around, more often than not into the path of the boss' projectiles.


No sunglasses for the actual end-of-stage boss. He's a rough and ready construction 'bot, he doesn't have time for fripperies like sunglasses when he's got pointless pits lined with saw blades and steam vents to build. I do rather feel as though Madison and Crystal have taken a diversion from their prince-saving mission for this stage. I just don't see what this construction robot has to do with anything, unless this is a two-part mission to save a prince and also uphold the local council's building codes.


We're back on track for stage three, as Madison and Crystal attack the villain's flying fortress "Colossus". This entails flying around the outside of the ship, shooting off various small components dangling from the outer hull. Most of them are somewhat vague in purpose, like those balls in the top-right corner of the above screenshot. I have no idea what their purpose is, unless it's to provide lazy writers like me with an easy joke about flying at the ship's vulnerable underbelly and shooting its balls off.


The entire time I was playing Battle Mania, I was needled by a curious sense of nostalgia. I say curious because I've never played Battle Mania / Trouble Shooter before and the simple fact that it's an early-nineties Megadrive game isn't enough to make me feel that way about it - Elemental Master didn't have the same effect, for instance. Then it hit me: it's because this game is so anime. I know, I know, the vast majority of 16-bit titles developed in Japan have some degree of anime influence, but Battle Mania feels especially like that wave of anime that washed up on British shores when I was a kid. For a brief period in the nineties anime was almost cool - Channel 4 aired Fist of the North Star and 3X3 Eyes and Manga Video were releasing things like Akira on home video, and if you were a geeky kid at that time they were cool, and very different than stuff you'd seen before. I have fond memories of a lot of the anime released in Britain at that time, and this is where the nostalgia for Battle Mania comes in. It feels like the videogame equivalent of something Manga would have put out around that time, a similar sense of fascinating, over-the-top Japanese-ness to something like AD Police or Gunsmith Cats, and that's why my nostalgia sense is tingling so.


Enough about my youthful viewing habits, though - there's a boss to deal with! I'm not sure if this boss, attached to a cycling machine and pedalling furiously, is generating power to fire his projectiles at me or if his legwork is powering the entire ship. I hope it's the latter. I'd really love to believe that the villain designed the ship, built the ship, turned the keys in the ignition and realised she'd forgotten to put an engine in. Not to worry, she said, I'll get one of the spare robots and attach it to an exercise bike. That'll keep my battle fortress aloft!
This poor guy isn't even that good a boss. He's hampered by the fact that he's welded to an exercise bike, because that's bound to lower your mobility whoever you are, and all he can really do is put out a stream of plasma balls. Unusually for the genre, in Battle Mania you can shoot almost all projectiles out of the air so if you've got a few power-ups under your belt you can just plonk yourself in front of the boss, hold down fire and blast his attacks out of the sky. This poor bastard never really stood a chance.


Well, the Colossus is still airborne, so our heroines head inside to find the prince. Not much to say about the stage itself, so let's talk about the weapon system instead. In the picture above, you can see a swarm of angry bananas flying forward, powered by sheer banana-y rage (and possibly rocket fuel). At the start of each stage, you get to choose a special weapon from one of four available options: that right there is the "Avalanche" weapon, and it fires a barrage of missiles straight forwards. There's also an expanding set of concentric circles, a wall of light that can be moved around the screen and is useful for placing on top of stationary enemies, and a set of vertical lightning blots that sweep across the screen. You can only use your special weapon when the "Charge" bar is full, and unfortunately for ham-fisted idiots like me you lose all your accumulated charge if you press the button before it's ready.
Other than that, your weapons never change aside from Madison's spread getting wider as you collect power-ups. This might seem a little limiting, and in another game it probably would be, but given your ability to make Crystal turn around as well as your special weapon Battle Mania strikes a very satisfying balance of complexity. You've always got options, but never overwhelmingly so, and this simplicity really works in the game's favour.


Stage four also has the most interesting boss in terms of gameplay if not in appearance. Your objective is to destroy the six pistons, a simple enough task that is complicated by the fact that enemies travel through the gaps in the engine the whole time, and the screen moves around to block off the various different channels at different times. It's... well, it's just honest good fun, even if I did occasionally get over-excited and fly Madison right into the whirring piston block where she'd have been horribly crushed to death if I hadn't collected a good number of hit points.


Pistons removed, and the engine is revealed to double as a prison as the prince pops out of that weird face/egg thing. Congratulations, the prince is safe and sound, so let's get him back to wherever he comes from and claim our nice big reward.


Or, you know, give him a gun and make him pull his goddamn weight. He'll never be a good king if he hasn't experienced the struggles of the average hard-working citizen with a jetpack and a very large firearm. You’re now controlling three people, sort of: where Crystal sticks close to Madison, the prince does the opposite of whatever she does. Fly to the bottom of the screen and the prince winds up at the top, and so on. In order to balance out your new-found comrade you lose access to your special weapon, and if I'm honest it's not a particularly helpful trade. Advanced weaponry or cosseted royalty? Yeah, I know which one you'd choose but sadly you're stuck with His Highness here.


This is a fun stage, fast-paced and full of missiles, birds carrying laser beams and these guys that I'm frankly at a loss to describe. It's fair to say that the villain of the piece hasn't really put forward a consistent theme for her army, as though she bought all her troops at a clearance sale for megalomaniacal dictators. Buy any two combat robots and get this unit of tea-tray-riding yellow shamans free!


This being a Megadrive shooter I've got to mention the music, and while it's not quite as excellent as Elemental Master or Skeleton Krew it's certainly well above average, with stage five's theme being a particular highlight. Gotta love that drum track.


Boss-wise we're back to the slightly more familiar theme of robot birds. I think it's a bird, at least. It's got a bit of a seahorse vibe to it as well. If you’re making something that's really just a mobile platform for some guns you can make it whatever shape you like, and I suppose wingless purple pincer-tailed bird is as good as any. It's a simple enough fight, especially if you're powered up - just keep blasting away and get ready to dodge its tail when it makes that weird sound. You'll know the sound I mean if you play the game this far.


Really? That's it? The final boss was a bit of an anticlimax, but Madison has reunited the prince with his father and there are girls in short skirts leading cheers, so I guess we're done here. Roll credits!


Err, psyche, I guess? In a move that will fool precisely no-one, the villain appears and attacks one last time. I do like the way they started the staff roll before she appears, though. That's a nice touch.


So Madison has to take to the skies once more to fight her evil cyborg clone. Not only that but she must fight alone, as Crystal buggered off during the previous cutscene, taking with her my ability to fire from right to left. Oh, and you don't have a special weapon either. And still, despite these many handicaps, this boss is extremely easy to beat by just flying around in a circle. The difficulty curve, which has been pretty good until now, appears to have wobbled off-target a bit and Vic Tokai over-compensated for Madison's newly weakened state by making this part far too easy.


Maybe the actual villain herself will fare better? Well no, not really. She flies around for a while and then stops to unleash an easily-avoidable attack. Every so often, she pokes her heart out of her robe instead of her gun / fireballs, and that's what you need to shoot. Yet another villain defeated by failing to keep their internal organs internal. Her heart must be on a timed spring or something because I don't care how absent-minded you are, you don't reach into your coat pocket to grab a weapon and accidentally pull out your heart.


See, now that's more like it! At least try to strike some fear into your enemies. This fight is harder than the last two, but honestly that's mostly down to the fact that it's quite difficult to tell what parts of this giant beetle will hurt you until you've flown into them a few times. You can fly over its chest area but you can't touch the head without taking damage, you can move through the arms but not the claws on the tips - these are all important things to know which can only be discovered by crashing poor Madison against them.


The boss has one final form, and this time her brain's sticking out. You're getting no sympathy from me, love - if you can't keep your delicate organs inside their god-given protective bone-cages / exoskeletal armor, then you deserve everything you get. This fight is made even easier by the return of Crystal, flying in at the last minute to help mop up and claim all the glory like Han Solo at the end of Star Wars. Eventually the giant bug is destroyed and that really, truly is the end of Beetle Battle Mania / Trouble Shooter.


A tranquil sunset ending, and a reminder that the Trouble Shooters remain as mysterious as ever. Forget Madison and Crystal, the big mystery here is exactly what did the team that translated this game for its western release have against that ending screen? Because they reworked it for the overseas release, and I'm really struggling to see why:


In America, we only drive on good, honest roads, and all defeated villains must slink back to their hideouts on scooters instead of advanced hoverboard technology! It's just a bit baffling - what possible reason could there have been for changing this ending sequence from "sunset drive" to "sunset drive, but with tarmac and also in the city"? Baffling.


Bizarre editing decisions aside, Battle Mania / Trouble Shooter is a great little title and one I suggest the shooter fans amongst you try out if you haven't already. It's fast-paced, it's smooth, it's got an unusual weapon / partner system that's very well implemented and gives the whole thing that extra bit of something that keeps the whole endeavour interesting. The presentation is good too, with crisp, easy-to-see sprites, catchy music and even some nice speech samples - Madison's cheery shout of "Lucky!" whenever you pick up a health item is particularly charming. The downsides? With six stages (and one of those is just a boss fight) it's a very short game and (I can't believe I'm saying this about a Megadrive shooter) I think it's a tad too easy. I know: madness, right?


Then again, that means you'll have more of a chance to see the whole game through, and Battle Mania provides such a fun, charming trip through a world where not much makes sense beyond "shoot all things" that I definitely recommend you give it a go.

BONUS! (And big thanks to Kid Fenris for reminding me about this)

Once you complete the Japanese version of Battle Mania - but not Trouble Shooter - you're shown a code that you can enter at the title screen (hold down C, Start and right on the second controller). Why did the Japanese get a bonus feature that the West didn't?

 

Because said bonus feature is an animation during the intro of Madison / Mania kicking the shit out of a SNES. That's just rude, Madison. No need for it.


16/05/2012

EVEN MORE LICENSED NES GAMES THAT DON'T EXIST

As I had so much fun making them the first two times, here are some more mocked-up title screens from licensed NES games that don't exist - and having played some of the Bill & Ted NES game earlier this week I think that's probably for the best. Some of them are even animated, because apparently that's a thing you can do with The Internet these days. Amazing!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer



I love Buffy, I really do. One of my favourite ever TV shows, even. I'd probably feel less enamoured with the show if I'd had to play a NES title based on it, though - it would almost certainly have been by someone like Ocean Software, it would have been derivative and stale, it would essentially have been the NES RoboCop games but with a group of pixels vaguely shaped like a teenage girl instead of Detroid's finest. This version would have been much better, of course: think Castlevania 3 with its cast of multiple playable characters and alternate routes through Dracula's castle. Swap Alucard for Willow and clocktowers for gymnasiums and bang, Buffy: the NES Game is ready to roll.

They Live



A thought-provoking treatise on consumer culture that just happens to feature Rowdy Roddy Piper killing aliens, They Live could have a been a NES game that made you think as well as tested your reflexes. Something Contra-like, perhaps, with the backgrounds and enemy sprites changing to reveal their true forms once Nada picks up some sunglasses. There's a sub-boss fight against a digitised Keith David that lasts roughly forty-seven minutes, and if you could cram a voice sample of Piper bemoaning his lack of chewing gum into a They Live NES cartridge you'd have something special on your hands.

King of the Hill




Obviously this could never have been a real NES title screen, because it features drinking and smoking and Nintendo's American censors weren't exactly fans of that kind of thing appearing in their games. Change the beer to soda pop and the cigarette to, I dunno, an oral thermometer or something and you'll be fine.
There's only one thing that comes to mind when planning a King of the Hill game: SimPropane. Use your managerial and sales acumen to progress from a man with a truck and some propane canisters, to regional manager of a propane store, to eventually becoming the biggest supplier of barbeque fuels in the whole of Texas. Imagine Romance of the Three Kingdoms but set in the southern USA and not ancient China and rival propane salesman instead of warring nation-states.

Red Dwarf



Every British nerd's favourite space-based comedy, (because Hyperdrive was hardly much competition,) Red Dwarf could have spawned a videogame in all sorts of genres. Point-and-click adventure? Elite-style galactic trading simulator with an emphasis on scavenging? Or even a scrolling shoot-em-up, Gradius but with the Vic Viper piloted by an unhygienic Scouser?




Yeah, let's go with that one. I can only apologise to Danny John-Jules for my inept pixel representation of The Cat, but in my defence I was distracted because I was listening to this the whole time I was working on it.

Re-Animator



Of all the potential NES titles featured here, this is the one I would have wanted the most. The idea of playing as Herbert West, a scientific genius who has a lot of trouble with his experiments in re-animating the dead (especially considering he's a genius and all,) is one I can get behind. An action-platformer for this particular film-to-game conversion, I think: West has to run, jump and fight his way through the Miskatonic campus, collecting all the ingredients he needs to make a fresh batch of his re-animating formula. Enemies include zombie cats, zombie dogs, zombie people... pretty much anything you can zombify, really. Oh, and one supremely pissed-off severed head.

IT


To any coulrophobes reading: I'm sorry. Just be comforted in the knowledge that Pennywise A) isn't real and B) isn't actually a clown, thus making him far less terrifying. Stephen King knows how to terrifying people through his books, but could a NES game ever really by scary? Judging by LJN's Friday the 13th game, probably not. I think IT: The NES Game would have worked best as a Shadowgate-type graphic adventure, though - King's text for spooky details married with pixel artwork of Derry and its surroundings might have made for a NES game that was frightening in the intended sense and not because it's Fist of the North Star-levels of concentrated awfulness.

There you are then - games that could have been but never were. Well, except Buffy and King of the Hill because they started well after the NES's heyday. I know some of these aren't technically possible to recreate on an actual NES and its limited hardware but hey - it's my fantasy Re-Animator game and it'll look as fancy as I want it to.

BONUS - GODFREY HO'S NINJA COLLECTION!



Godfrey Ho is a man of many and varied talents: it's just a shame none of them have to do with filmmaking. He's famous for one thing - making ninja films by splicing footage of western actors in garish ninja costume into pre-existing films and attempting to tie the two halves together through phone-calls, inner monologues and poor dubbing. A Godfrey Ho ninja film is a treasure, a beautiful crystal of laughable acting and fight scenes most LARPers would find wimpy and unconvincing. I tried to make a NES title screen that captures some of this awfulness, but I think I made it too good. Only a ninja can defeat a ninja, and only a terrible NES development team could make a game bad enough to do these films justice.

14/05/2012

SOFT & CUDDLY (ZX SPECTRUM)

Alright, it's time. I'm ready. I'm going to exorcise the demons of my childhood, face my fears head-on and play a computer game that scared me so much that I had to hide it in the back of a cupboard. It's time for the 1987 ZX Spectrum title Soft & Cuddly.


Yes, my phobia of large red triangles blighted my childhood and turned that school trip to the road sign factory into a nightmare of blood-curdling terror. No, of course not - this is just the loading screen, and The Power House are the publishers. The terrifying part comes in a moment, but first a short tale to set the scene. Imagine you're around six or seven years old and you've just got hold of a ZX Spectrum, your first computer (unless you count the ancient Commodore 16 that you banged your pudgy fists against as an infant). It came with a few games, too. Computer games! Oh, such wonders, such joy! So you pick out a tape called Soft & Cuddly, and it sounds like a good place to start because you are too young to understand that sometimes things are named ironically. After an eternity, the tape finishes loading and you are presented with this.


This screen absolutely terrified me as a child. Not like seeing a scary scene in a movie that quickly fades from memory, but something traumatic that has stayed with me for many years and is still my defining mental image of the Spectrum. Think ZX, think bleeding (yet disturbingly cheerful) zombie face flanked by two unidentifiable monsters chewing baby heads. Something about this scene just happened to find the softest, most tender part of my juvenile brain and grabbed hold. Even as a kid, I was never one to be scared of things in movies and books - I knew they were fake and there were plenty of real things to be scared of, thank you very much - but Soft & Cuddly did the trick. I've wondered about this for a long time, and I think I've realised why this is the case: while I knew movie monsters like Freddy Kruger or zombies were created to be fun, to scare people but primarily to entertain them, this image didn't feel like it was much concerned with entertaining people and was instead the crazed outpourings of someone who had genuine mental issues.
Before I get onto the game itself, let's take a look at the packing that this loathsome little program was wrapped in because it's pretty interesting in its own right.

(Picture taken from World of Spectrum)

I'm pretty sure I didn't see the cover before I loaded the game, because it might have tipped me off that "Soft & Cuddly" was not an accurate representation of the contents. If you're following the VGJunk Tumblr, you might have seen me mention this cover before, because I'm kind of fascinated with it. At no point in the game do you encounter an emaciated demon perched atop a pile of severed heads, and that's probably because this cover wasn't created specifically for the game. It's a piece by fantasy and sci-fi artist Tim White, and if his name isn't familiar you'll definitely recognise some of his work if, like me, you were the kind of geeky kid in the late eighties / early nineties who read a lot of horror and sci-fi novels. This image was originally used as the cover of an omnibus of H. P. Lovecraft stories called Dagon and Other Macabre Tales, and I can thank S&C for making me a fan of everyone's favourite prophet of unfathomable cosmic horror because I saw Dagon in my local library and my brain did somersaults as I thought "holy hell, that's the Soft & Cuddly cover!". Obviously I had to read it after that, and now I have a plush Cthulhu sitting on the desk in front of me. Such is the strange way the world works sometimes.
That's just the main picture, though. Equally odd is the little robot thing on the back flap (the left-hand side of the above image), which I always took to be an extremely inaccurate picture of the main character. Turns out it's actually taken from a different Tim White picture called "Geezenstacks".


Knowing that it's actually an adorable picture of a mouse in a spacesuit has gone some way to demolishing S&C's terrifying mystique. I have no idea why The Power House chose to use that particular image, completely divorced from the game as it is, but it's nice to finally settle the mystery of just what the hell it's supposed to be. I do wonder whether The Power House got permission to use these images, because S&C was originally a £1.99 budget release and they had to keep cost down somehow - like, say, by not paying artists any royalties. If someone from The Power House ever reads this and is offended by this suggestion and Tim White definitely did get paid for it, I can only apologise.
Okay, I've put it off long enough. What about the actual game?


Here's the first screen, then. You play as that small blue man on the left-hand side of the screen. Yes, the one with no arms and the head of a (video game) Lemming. That big white thing is an anvil that falls from the sky as soon as you move from your starting position, an oddly misplaced bit of Looney Tunes slapstick that can and will kill you instantly the first time you start the game. Cheers for that.
According to the instructions your mother has been chopped into eight pieces, but as she's the Android Queen this is more of an inconvenience than a gruesome slaughter. Our hero has to find her body parts to stitch her back together, but to do this he needs to collect the eight Spirit Keys and take them to his father. His father is locked in a fridge somewhere for reasons that are never explained but probably have to do with an accident whilst midnight snacking. Get the keys to find the body parts, find all the chunks of your mum, find a needle and thread to sew her back together and bam, you're done.


Finding all these find involves traipsing through a labyrinthine set of 256 screens, avoiding monsters and obstacles. It's all very straightforward, with our "hero" able to move freely in all directions because instead of jumping he gets a jetpack to help him move around. He's got a laser gun for blasting enemies, but it can overheat with repeated use. Slightly more unusual is that three times per life you can press the "I" key to turn you both invisible and invincible for a short period. Being invincible is great and all, but its usefulness is somewhat limited by the fact that you can't see what the fuck you're doing. The manual suggests firing your gun so you know where you are, but if you're up against a wall or trying to navigate a narrow passageway then you can't see your laser beams. What mechanism does our hero use to become invisible? Damned if I know, but being the child of the Android Queen must have its advantages. The Queen probably chose it like an optional extra on a new car as she was giving birth / assembling her child. Still, it can come in handy occasionally.


After having overcome my childhood terror and reached the game proper, was it worth it? Not really. I'm sorry to all the Spectrum enthusiasts out there, but the vast majority of Spectrum games are now too primitive to be much fun. There are still some classics which can hold your interest even now, and there are many more that are very impressive given the time that they were created, but mostly they're clunky, repetitive affairs that are more frustrating than fun. Soft & Cuddly definitely falls headfirst into the "frustrating" end of the pool, given that it fails on such basic levels as getting the bloody goal of the game correct. You know how the instructions tell you that there are keys that need finding? This is... how can I put this delicately? Complete bollocks. Yeah. Here's a letter sent in to the tips page of Your Sinclair magazine.


A letter from John George Jones, creator of S&C no less, explaining that the instructions are wrong and there are no keys after all. A misprint on the instructions? An early feature that was taken out of the final game but not the instructions? Perhaps it was John George Jones trying to mess with people? This option becomes more believable once you realise that he was a bit of a "character" - in an interview with Sinclair User magazine he declares that Mozart and Shakespeare are "rubbish," that he's on his third life (out of twelve) and most bafflingly of all that Soft & Cuddly is the best game ever made.


Sadly, S&C is not the best game ever made. It's dull, slow, awkward and needlessly convoluted. Now I know I have to find the fridge and that's all well and good, but the fridge appears in a different random place every time you load the game. So you schlep through this neon-colored hell, hoping to survive long enough to encounter the large kitchen appliance that is your ultimate goal, all the while being beset on all sides by childishly graphic images of cartoon gore.



Don't get me wrong, I love childish cartoon gore. In fact, it's really the only thing that S&C has going for it, and it was certainly uncommon enough in the computer games of 1987 to make the game stand out a little. While I'm not longer scared by S&C, it does still feel a little... unsettling, like I've wandered into someone’s private diary that they've filled with pictures of babies being mutilated instead of their fond memories or hopes for the future.


Then there's this strange fascination with skulls in berets. Skulls in berets pop up in almost every screen, in all shapes, sizes and colours that the Spectrums limited palette would allow. We've gone from the diary of a madman to the school notebooks of that one kid who was obsessed with guns and spent every lesson doodling wars. A commentary on the ruthless nature of the military-industrial complex? Maybe, if they didn't share the screen with a zombie sheep.
The most irritating thing about this game is just trying to stay alive. You've got three lives to complete the entire game, and frankly that is not enough. Your health is constantly being sapped by every single bloody thing, from the (curiously uninteresting, given the rest of the graphics) enemies that buzz around aimlessly, to the walls and floors that may or may not damage you if you so much as brush against them, to the crushing mechanisms, giant spikes and, yes, skulls in berets that block your path at every turn. All of these things are chipping away at your limited pool of health the entire time, and moving too quickly to avoid something that's hurting you only ever seems to lead to you walking straight into another deadly trap.
I persevered, though. I struggled on. I found the paths that were marginally less deadly, memorised them and made my way deeper into this nightmare of military headbones and eye-scalding colours than ever before. Then I found it: The Fridge.


Finally, some progress! I manoeuvred my way right up to the fridge door, steeled myself and stepped into it and... nothing happened. Nothing fucking happened. Well, I got my health back but beyond that nothing seemed to change. Then I tried to leave the fridge and lost half my newly-replenished health by banging into the door handle. It was at this point that I gave up on Soft & Cuddly. I'm sure you won't blame me.


That's my fear of Soft & Cuddly cured, at least. It's been replaced by a sort of rankling irritation, but I'd rather look at that title screen and think "man, what a sub-par game" than "Jesus Christ get it away from me!". It's definitely interesting, though, what with the unusual-for-the-time horror theme, the Lovecraftian artwork and the "personality" of the creator. Don't leave yet - it's got one last fascinating feature up its sleeve. Spectrum games came on cassette tapes, and S&C only took up one side of said tape. So, what shall we put on the other side? How about a completely unrelated song by a band called H.E.X.?


Personally, I think the lyrics "American successful woman, waiting for the penetration" will be remembered long after I'm dead, mentioned in the same breath as the works of Bob Dylan and Neil Young. I mock, but after having listened to this song a few times in preparation for this article it's wedged so far into the vulnerable, music-remembering part of my brain that the only cure is to put it on my MP3 player and listen to it on the bus. Twenty years later, and Soft & Cuddly is still messing with my head. Fantastic.

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