You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/okami-hd.844/

Originally released in 2006 for the PS2, Capcom introduced the world to a story of gods and demons; wrapping it in the package of a traditional Japanese painting, Okami was unique. This tale retold across (console) generations, it has seen subsequent ports to the Wii, PS3, PC, PS4, Xbox One, and now to the Switch. This being my first time into the land of Nippon, I look to this 12 year old game questioning whether its once-unique style and substance can hold up to modern standards.

A Slow Start

Before you can really sink your teeth into the game, you’re struck with cutscene upon cutscene detailing the struggle that first sealed away the great Orochi, and the events that lead to its release. The story is wonderfully told, unravelling like an extravagant tapestry. It sets the world wonderfully and gets you excited to properly get started, but before you can do that, you have an introductory section. It ticks all the right boxes for an introductory section; basic concepts are explained through play, you walk and jump through a simple linear path, you get a skill to begin progression. It’s fine on paper, but when the scene has been set for a grand adventure, the pacing put me off to the point of questioning just how poorly the game had aged. Moving through Kamiki Village, these thoughts stayed with me. With how often I had heard Okami being compared to titles from the Zelda series, I had expected action, combat; swift and satisfying progression. Only when I got to Hana Valley and acquired my next brush skill did I realise the game wasn’t at fault, but my preconceptions about it.

The Bloom skill changed how I saw the game, and all for the better. As I painted a circle around my first withered sapling and watched the world explode into colour, I took a moment to simply watch. I took a moment to think about what I wanted from this experience; I took a moment to realise what was blatantly staring me in the face—this isn’t The Legend of Zelda.

Painting a Celestial Picture

Okami’s greatest strength lies in its visual presentation. Styled in such a way as to appear dated whilst still remaining strikingly vibrant and unique, they stand up to any modern standard in a way worthy of being called timeless. The game is made in such a way as to put its beauty at the forefront of progression, also offering it in ample amounts as reward for optional tasks. If there’s a stain on the world, you feel drawn to get rid of it. The actual benefit to doing this is fairly insignificant, giving you a few additional points to invest in growth, but the satisfaction of purging a scourge, of ridding the land of imperfection; it’s addicting.

The game uses its themes not only in crafting a beautiful world, but in aligning every part of itself to create as immersive an experience as can reasonably be expected. In place of a pause menu, you unravel a paper fan; in place of tutorials, you read scrolls acquired on your journey. Every part of it feels correct within the bounds of the world. Even things like area names being displayed are stylised to look as though they’re supposed to be there, despite floating high in the sky above each area. With the theme of painting coursing through the very essence of the game, you really do feel like a God wandering through your own brushwork come to life. It’s empowering, it gives you a real sense of belonging in the world and with it, a sense of responsibility for its well-being.

Dungeons and Dog-Fighting

Perhaps the game’s weakest points lie in its combat. Monster encounters are clearly marked on your quest, be it by ghostly floating tags, or cursed torii littering the land. Interacting with, or walking through in the second case, these will put you inside a barrier where you must purge the evil within for it to subside. Thematically it works well, and the lack of random encounters is something I welcome in a game with experience and levelling up not tied to progress. Where the issue lies is in the fighting itself. Your basic combat isn’t complex at all, and in this area I can understand a likening to the Zelda series; you hit Y to lunge towards an enemy and attack. As strange as it might sound, I might have preferred the game were it to maintain this simplicity. Where The Legend of Zelda can add items and enemies that by extension can be defeated by these items, Okami is limited to the use of its brush techniques. Again, this is a sound concept on paper, and should allow for a similar style of combat and evolution of enemies; though I tried to enjoy it, there was one thing really holding it back.

The difference between using an item in Zelda and a brush technique in Okami lies in each game’s controls. In the former game, you have the option to target an enemy. This keeps focus on them and allows you to freely use one hand for items, swordplay, whatever you want; Okami to the best of my knowledge lacks this. As minor as it may sound, confined to limited area presented for each battle, you too often find yourself fighting with the camera. This is made worse in handheld mode (my mode of preference for this game) by the fact you need to move one hand away from the controller to the touch screen for brush techniques. It ultimately makes for an unnecessarily awkward combat experience. As I continued playing, I was pleasantly surprised to find there were exceptions, these being the penultimate fights within dungeons.

Dungeons in Okami feel traditional. You enter, work your way through, fight a boss, and rid it of evil. They’re incredibly fun and are themed well, with a good balance of platforming and puzzles to keep neither from growing tiresome. While most of it is incredibly enjoyable, my favourite part by far quite unexpectedly comes from the boss encounters. Where individual enemies can feel cramped and awkward, boss fights explode into creative combat hosted within their larger lairs. Utilising new skills acquired, these boss fights each feel unique and most importantly give you the space to enjoy them, despite the limitations of the camera. Boss designs are equally brilliant, pulling from Japanese mythology and creating something genuinely menacing each time.

A Worthwhile Wolf?

Okami was a fantastic game when it first came out, and sadly one I missed. While I can’t speak for how it’s has changed over time, I can say with certainty that Okami HD is more than worth the meagre £16 ($20) Capcom is asking for it. In this divine package, you have a serene walk through picturesque lands, dungeons to explore, and mythical creations to slay. Okami is a game that despite being 12 years old, does not feel out of place in a modern marketplace, and one I can not recommend enough.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/clockwork-gameshell.843/

Clockwork have created a console for the technically curious. Modular in design and highly customisable, it aims to deliver not just a handheld, but an experience; a journey of exploration and discovery. With a review unit in hand, I aim to look at this from a middling perspective; willing to tinker but not to any kind of extreme. I want something I know I can take apart whilst knowing I don’t necessarily have to, something stylish I can sit and play. Is the GameShell the console for me? 

What’s in the Box?

The box itself is striking and simple. A bright shade of yellow, it stands out straight away, with the design calling back to the age of a simpler system. This box houses five individual boxes of components, as well as trays of plastic to be assembled, an array of shells for the system, and a set of stickers to make it your own. It all looks rather professional, and I wasted no time in sprawling the contents onto the table to start putting it together.

For those interested, I’ll also list the system specs here:

• Clockwork Pi development board
  • SoC – Alwinner R16-J quad core Cortex A7 processor @ 1.2 GHz with Mali-400MP2 GPU
  • System Memory – 512MB or 1GB (in future revision of the board)
  • Storage – 1x micro SDHC slot
  • Video Output / Display I/F – 18-bit RGB display interface, micro HDMI (planned in revision of the board),
  • Audio Output – Via HDMI, 3.5 mm stereo audio jack
  • Connectivity – 802.11 b/g/n WiFi and Bluetooth 4.0
  • USB – 1x micro USB port
  • Expansion – 14-pin header with UART, I2C, SPI, GPIO
  • Power Supply – 5V via micro USB port or 3.7V battery
  • Dimensions – 70×50 mm
• Keypad board
  • MCU- Microchip Atmel ATMega160p MCU
  • 30-pin header with flat headers
  • ISP programming connector
  • I2C? interface to Clockwork Pi
  • micro USB connector
• Display – 2.7″ RGB display with 320×240 @ 60 Hz
• Stereo Speaker Module
• Battery – 1,050 mAh good for 3 hours of continuous use, 100 hours standby
• Weight – 195 grams

Assembly

The instructions came in the form of a step by step images with no writing. I found them relatively clear, the standout struggles really being limited to finding the right parts on the table and cutting the plastic out from the tray. Following the instructions, I put together one module at a time, as well as the optional lightbar. It took around an hour in total, including a short break for my eyes to recover from staring at small parts for too long; considering my usual incompetence with this sort of thing, it should speak wonders for the simplicity and ease of the process.

Getting each module into the shell was again a simple process of connecting everything together, and lifting it into position. The shell has grooves for each part to slot into, making the real challenge into optimal cable management, and trying not to trap any as you put the front face on. Fully assembled, the GameShell looks marvellous. Each of the red, yellow, and grey faceplates strike their own unique vibe, with the transparent back serving as a constant reminder of what you’ve put together. The main board module remains partially exposed through the shell, this giving access to a headphone port, a micro USB port for charging, and the power button. It also serves well in keeping the system better ventilated, this being the only part I noticed getting warm. The way each component is encased in a plastic shell helps not only in organising the parts internally, but in protecting the screen once assembled; the contours of the shell also assisting. I’d feel comfortable with this in my pocket or bag knowing I’ll struggle to do it harm.

The buttons are something I’ve come to love. They fit perfectly into the shell and provide satisfying feedback from being pressed. The start and select buttons feel identical to a NES controller’s, with the rubbery press allowing for a pleasant sense of variance as you hit them. The D-Pad is where opinions may differ. A flat disc sat atop four rubber buttons, it feels soft to press, and easy to catch more than one input. It’s the kind of D-Pad where you can press into the middle and have all four inputs register; it grew on me, but I can certainly understand somebody not getting on with it.

Provided with the system, the lightbar module is considered an add-on, and provides five additional buttons to be mounted to the Lego shell. Giving you access to L and R buttons, it’s a great option to have, and from what I used, felt surprisingly pleasant despite its less than comfortable look. It of course comes with the trade-off of taking away from the system’s form factor and classic look, but given the focus on customisation and the quantity of people who would want this to experience great classic games, the additional buttons are a must, as well as the flexibility provided from the Lego shell.

clockworkOS

With the system running Linux, you’re really spoiled for choice when it comes to what you want on it. Being the less explorative kind myself, I stuck with the bundled clockworkOS. Once the system has booted up, you come to a simple menu navigable with the handheld’s D-Pad and face buttons. Coming installed with Cave Story, a port of Doom, and RetroArch, it already had enough to keep me entertained. The menu itself is also quite easy to modify and tweak to your liking. Adding new icons and skins is as simple as creating files for them and rebooting the system. Even with my limited knowledge of Linux, I managed to create shortcuts for my Pokemon games to boot them through RetroArch.

Accessing files on the handheld is only really possible through a local connection, this however made incredibly easy using the included TinyCloud app. You connect to the same network, open the app, and follow the on-screen instructions. For a Windows user like myself, I had to type \\192.168.0.34\games into explorer and I had access to my games folder. For full filesystem access to make menu changes and such, an FTP client is needed, but again this isn’t complicated. Despite hiding the micro SD card within the shell, clockwork put good effort into keeping the system accessible for those who want access to the files.

Retro games can be played three ways; either through the Retro Games menu, the shortcuts mentioned earlier, or directly through RetroArch. All of these methods launch the game using RetroArch, so the experience itself doesn’t differ, but it’s nice to have options for those not fond of RetroArch’s UI. As for the performance, the system’s capabilities are largely comparable to that of the Raspberry Pi 2B. Each of the games I tried, from Pokemon Crystal to Yoshi’s Island (SNES ver), the games stayed at a steady 60 FPS. Yoshi’s Island saw minor drops but they were infrequent to the point of not affecting the overall experience. I feel the real issue in emulation with this system comes from its screen size; some games simply don’t look right. This is evident in Super Mario World; the game feels and plays well, but it almost looks squashed on the display. To give an idea of what you might experience, I’ve included a video below playing a few different games. Overall, I am quite happy with how faster games like Mario play, but slower games like Pokemon Red or Pokemon Crystal almost feel like the screen is shuddering as it scrolls.

Closing

All in all, the system looks and feels great. To me, its greatest limitation lies beneath the shell in the battery module. Sporting a meagre 1050 mAh battery, you’re looking at three hours of continuous play—less than I get out of my Switch playing Breath of the Wild. It really is a shame, but considering the demographic for this product, it’s a problem that can be worked around by simply replacing the battery with something better. The GameShell is a system that has appeal to a lot of different audiences, and to each audience has different drawbacks. For somebody looking for some fun putting it together, then to crack on playing their retro games, the battery would be the killer. For somebody happy to replace parts and build onto the Lego case, smaller things like the micro SD being stuck inside the shell might become a pain. It’s a system that has a lot to give, and it’s one I’m happy to recommend if you can work past its faults. I had a great time putting it together, and its overall design and build quality, paired with its delightful OS will keep me using it despite its pitiful battery life. 

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/octopath-traveler.833/

O-C-T-O-P-A-T-H

Perhaps the most significant curiosity about the game is the premise itself—a world of disconnected travelers each with a tale to tell. Featuring eight intentionally unique characters, each with four story chapters, you have at face value a lengthy but largely broken-up adventure. With no clear overarching plot in the beginning, it’s easy to look at this as a mere collection of stunted narratives, a game of systematic progression repeated eight times. Octopath goes a long way in trying to avoid this without necessarily enforcing you play through it in one way or another. The game begins with you picking a character to use as your party’s leader, and subsequently playing through their first chapter. After that, you are free to explore the world and play through another character’s first chapter, or go onto your character’s second chapter. The catch is in the scaling of difficulty; if you wish to go straight into chapter two, you will need to train around 20 levels. Conversely, should you wish to go into another character’s first chapter, you’ll find the game far more forgiving, the recommended level much closer to what you will likely be. It’s interesting to observe the idea of freedom present here.

Octopath sets itself up to give you control of how you play; it holds nothing back for those eager to venture beyond warning signs and danger levels. If you felt particularly adventurous, you could explore the entire continent and add each city to your fast travel list before so much as meeting a second character. The game would do its best to stop such an endeavour with powerful monsters littering paths to far-away cities, but with patience and luck, as well as an absence of true walls to stop you, you would eventually break through and find success. Such freedom is something I find myself fond of seeing, but its true strength lies in conjunction with the structured experience you are choosing to avoid; the knowledge there is something brilliant waiting for you beyond your procrastination.

As mentioned, each character has a four-part storyline that each lasted me around 90 minutes. Running on this metric alone, you have 48 hours of oddly engaging and interesting content, and delightful voice acting. Of the JRPGs I’ve found myself playing, the storytelling in Octopath is quite simply different. It feels as though you are experiencing the world for all its virtues, not just moving from town to town until you defeat the great evil threatening the world. With side-quests in particular relying on you utilising the entirety of your party to their fullest extent, you find yourself talking to everybody, stealing from everybody, alluring, and guiding everybody. It’s brilliantly addicting, the way the game is laid out allowing for side-quests to give you less information than one might be accustomed to because you’re made to feel a part of the world. It’s not to say there aren’t dark forces lurking later into their stories, but it’s how the game portrays both small evils and grand evils in the same larger than life light I found the most joy in. It portrays an unexpected combat butler in the same manner as an otherworldly guardian, with both encounters finding equal difficulty and sense of intimidation. The buildup to each chapter’s conclusion varies from suspenseful shock encounter to a feeling of them throwing an enemy into the mix for the sake of rounding it off with a bang, but both scenarios carried some merit. Even where some bosses felt somewhat forced, the battle would feel grand and the wind-down after beating them would be consistently well-executed.

While much of the game remains detached as individual tales, Octopath rewards you for keeping a full party of travellers with its travel banter. At set points during a chapter, a notification appears alerting you of snippets of dialogue reacting or discussion recent events. These can range from a disconcerting sigh to reaffirming smaller character details mentioned in passing, and do a good job in giving your full party relevance outside of their own chapters. If I had to fault this system, it would be its lack of communication I put a harsh light on. With one piece of dialogue at an undisclosed part of each chapter for every character, and your party only able to accommodate three of your seven teammates, you have an incredible amount of trial and error if wanting to see everything. If you’re a completionist in this sense, I implore you to seek out a guide. It simply isn’t worth the aimless wandering.

Octopath Traveler works incredibly well in its storytelling as a whole, but cracks start to show when looking at each character’s motivations to function with the rest of the group. While it makes for a fuller and more diverse JRPG experience to have an interesting party of unique characters, none of them present any kind of reason to want to work with others; one of the character’s early plot points boldly stating how he doesn’t work with other people after a past incident. The benefits of this definitely outweigh the character inconsistencies, but it really does hammer home how much of an afterthought the interaction between characters was, and similarly, how the larger tale tying their fates together felt weak in comparison to the individual stories.

An Unreal JRPG

Though the eight paths stood out to me when playing, they weren’t what had me looking at Octopath in the first place. From so much as its first trailer, still titled Project OCTOPATH TRAVELER, it was the refreshing use of Unreal Engine 4 that turned my head. Flawlessly blending effects onto 2D sprites in an almost papercraft 3D environment lifted the game far beyond what it could have been as either a traditional 2D, or a modern 3D, JRPG. It felt like Square Enix were wanting to call back a sense of nostalgia from their older playerbase without forcing the game into a dated set of tropes and graphical cliches.

I’m glad to see the final game stay true to the wondrous first impression it gave off. With my playthrough using both docked and handheld mode, I noticed the sprites look slightly less crisp when portable, but it’s a minor criticism when compared to the still-striking visuals. Though something I’m not often fond of doing, there is a trove of screenshots below to give an idea of how the game looks. Whether it’s something for you is a matter of preference, but it left me in awe even as I was deep into the game.

Brave by Default

Octopath Traveler’s battle system features familiar JRPG elements thrust together. You have your standard turn-based action, blended with Bravely Default’s BP system to boost power to attacks using points that charge each turn, and a range of weapon types and elements, where each enemy has set weaknesses to these attacks. While it seems basic on the surface, the BP system in conjunction with the twelve job classes and their associated skills allows for diverse teambuilding and in turn, battles that feel entirely different depending on party composition. The depth here surprised me. It has what a traditional JRPG player is looking for with your warrior and mage classes, and their associated strengths and weaknesses, and there was some fun in that for me, but where I really started enjoying myself was in the niche options available. My favourite of these was to make use of the dancer, Primrose, and her skill Bewildering Grace. This skill changes the way battles play out; no longer do you have planned and coordinated attacks focusing on targeting your enemies’ weaknesses. In its place? An RNG fest where anything could happen. My team revolved around passing BP to Primrose and letting her use fully-charged Bewildering Graces as much as possible, preparing for and dealing with the negative effects as they came. Sometimes my party was poisoned, sometimes members of my party were instantly KO’d, sometimes the squad of enemies I was facing got fully healed. It all became part of the fun for me. I understand this isn’t how a lot of people would want to play a JRPG, or any game for that matter, but it’s a fantastic example of just how personal you can make your experience.

For those wanting to just build a party and play with your favourite characters, the ability to take on a second job lets you do just that. You have a chance to cover your weaknesses without being forced into using characters you dislike; if you want to use them later, you can just swap them in. With characters being able to swap their secondary job on the fly, you can also change your party composition for the area you’re currently in and adapt in the field if you constantly want to be hitting enemies with weapons they’re weak against. Everything about Octopath Traveler screams to craft your own adventure. There are eight stories to be told, but they’re stories to be told at your own pace and as you want them to be, in a world you’re free to explore. It is a tale yet unwritten of experiences yet to happen, a game that is as much as you make of it, and one I struggle not to recommend to any fan of JRPGs. The world of Orsterra is waiting.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/captain-toad-treasure-tracker.827/

Having originally released in 2014, Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker presented a full adventure for this minor character first seen in Super Mario Galaxy after having featured in smaller levels of Super Mario 3D World. With largely favourable reviews, I find myself excited to see the captain on handheld systems, but most intrigued at just how he’s fit onto the 3DS. Is everything here, or have compromises been made? If you’re interested in the Wii U version of the game, you can check out our official review here.

Ready For Adventure!

The plot of Captain Toad is rather simple by nature. Toad and Toadette being avid adventurers, the first level of the game sees an excited pair maneuver through a simple level to collect a star at the top. As they celebrate, the giant bird Wingo swoops in to steal their finding, and with it, Toadette. In an effort to track down his friend, Toad sets out on an adventure of minute scale to find her. It’s cute; it does everything it needs to while ultimately doing very little. Captain Toad isn’t a game you’re playing for its deep narrative nor its storytelling, and its knowledge of this gives the game the room it needs to present what is ultimately the same plot three times consecutively and still feel fresh and unique. At the start of each new episode, you find yourself almost waiting for one of the pair to face an ill fate, forever destined to be apart.

It’s a Small World

Captain Toad keeps its graphics style true to the Mario series, putting forward a bright and inviting universe. Each level is a small world in and of itself, taking inspiration from Japanese sandbox gardens called Hakoniwa. Consistently putting forward a unique theme or challenge, I never found myself growing tired of this unfortunate mushroom man, despite his limited options. Unlike Mario, Toad can’t jump. Weighed down by his bulky backpack, he moves through levels picking things from the ground and throwing them, as well as interacting with certain clearly marked elements. This is where there are certain differences for each version.

In the Wii U game, you had both the TV display and the touch-enabled display of the controller to view and manipulate each level. This worked well, allowing for responsive and satisfying interactions with the world. The 3DS with its touch screen and stylus maps perfectly, both in function and feel. The touch screen gives the sense of interaction with the world buttons struggle to simulate, while the stylus gives a satisfying sense of precision. It’s a good system I’m glad to see is going strong with the 3DS quite impressively able to render the game scene on each screen. With them attached unlike the Wii U, it can take some time to adjust to the dual images side by side, but the period soon passes.

Although the 3DS version is the focus of this review, I’d like to mention the changes made here to map the game’s control scheme to the Switch. While handheld mode presents a largely similar experience, albeit in a sightlier clunkier manner thanks to the lack of stylus, the docked experiences has seen a few changes. With the lack of a readily accessible touch screen, docked mode users are forced to use a motion-controller pointer system for the same interactions. This largely means two things for the player; first, that each interaction feels somewhat less precise. This is to be expected with the floatier-feeling motion controls being a necessity. Were this a port for the Wii, the IR sensor bar could have gone some way in accommodating this downfall with its better precision, but with the limited options available for the Switch, I can understand why the controls have been taken the direction they have. Even if the more precise technology were used, the second problem may still exist—this being the pointer always being visible on-screen. It’s a bit of a shame to me it doesn’t hide itself if sitting on the edge of the screen. This is ultimately a minor complaint, but a noticeable one nonetheless. With the game running at 1080p on the Switch when docked, the game looks fantastic, and while the two points mentioned do detract from the overall experience, they in no way make it unenjoyable nor unplayable.

The Book of Toad

Levels in Captain Toad can appear simple on the surface, and for the most part, it’s because they are. You are tasked with moving the captain through a small world in a largely linear sense in order to obtain a star at the end. If you judge the game for this alone, and the puzzle design of getting from A to B, you would have a good game. Accessible with a mild and moderately easy to overcome sense of difficulty. This however is not all the game has to offer. First, you have gems. These aren’t a new concept to Mario games, often lurking out of the way, just out of sight, or just out of reach. They frequently find themselves just in the right place to taunt you—to entice you into looking beyond the linear path of A to B, and into the adventure found therein. You are expected to acquire some as you progress, levels being blocked at certain points behind gem barriers much akin to Super Mario 3D Land‘s large coins, but those requirements are always lenient to the degree of encouraging exploration without necessarily enforcing it.

Where the true joy of the game lies for me is in its bonus objectives; in particular their way of transforming the way you view and play some levels. My favourite of these comes early in the game with the sixth level: Shy Guy Heights. On the surface, you walk through a garden of enemies, throwing turnips and scrambling on as they chase you. The bonus objective changes the feel here in its entirety, tasking you with remaining unseen and forcing the captain into the role of a stealthy adventurer out to steal the Sky Guys’ treasures. At least that’s how it felt to me. While a lot of these objectives aren’t so creative, they often force you to look at the level through new eyes. Defeating every enemy with limited resources, collecting 70 coins where you barely hit half of that on your first play of the level, even clearing interactive stages in as few interactions as possible brings a smile to your face as you marvel at the brilliant simplicity of what you had just played. The joy of this game to me is how it is what you make of it. For a child wanting a fun and bright adventure, it provides in troves. For the older players wanting more, it ups the ante and asks what you sometimes feel to be obscure or downright impossible. Add to this an often tight time to try and beat, as well as the previously Amiibo-exclusive ‘Find Pixel Toad’ mode, and you have a complete and comprehensive Captain Toad experience. The only missing element is the pack of four Super Mario 3D World levels, replaced with a much better fitting Super Mario Odyssey-themed set. With the 3D World levels feeling like more of an easter egg than actual levels in the first place, I don’t feel this a great loss, but I can understand others being disappointed at content being removed, even if that which replaced it is in my opinion superior.

An Adventure For You?

Regardless of which system you look to buy this plucky adventure on, you will not be left disappointed. Aside from the longer startup time, I also find it great to say I noticed no difference between the game on old and new models of the 3DS handheld. This is a game for Nintendo players of any age, and on any system—one I cannot recommend enough.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/mario-tennis-aces.821/

Mario Tennis is a series of highs and lows. From the simple yet attractive narrative of its GBA iteration to the abysmal lack of content of the Wii U version, Camelot have been loved and slated by fans eager to enjoy a light-hearted take on the classic sport. After recent years of dwindling interest and mediocre releases, have they done enough to put this franchise back at the top?

Service Ace

Starting the game for the first time, you find yourself in the penultimate moments of a championship, Mario and Peach eager to thwart the combined skills of Bowser and Bowser Jr. The match ending as you might expect, a familiarly unfamiliar duo take centre court to announce their evil ways; enter Wario and Waluigi! Corrupted by a legendary racket, they visit the newly crowned champions, in the end tempting an unwitting Luigi to their dark cause. The stadium in uproar and a few choice whispers to go on, Mario sets out to right the wrongs of this wicked racket with Toad, his witty companion.

The story behind Adventure Mode isn’t necessarily thrilling, you need to gather five power stones and seal the evil of the legendary racket. It all feels rather arbitrary with little really tying the plot together. It’s not to say it doesn’t have moments to shine, these often found in dialogue between Mario and Toad, but these alone aren’t really enough to sell it as any kind of single player experience. If you’re wanting something like Mario Tennis: Power Tour’s RPG-esque feel and narrative, you’ll be left disappointed. Where Power Tour had a world to explore and people to interact with, Aces has an island traversable via a linear path. At each stopping point, you find a new event to remind you just how important tennis is to these people. It’s amusing and entertaining, but limited in scope. Camelot clearly opted to put a focus onto multiplayer aspects, this decision bleeding into the very essence of the game.

Return Ace

Coming into Mario Tennis Aces with around 12 hours of experience from the online demo, I felt relatively confident with the basic shots and had a good feel for the game. Where I struggled was in mastering the newer techniques; among these being Zone Shots and the particulars of blocking them. With Zone Shots, the gameplay is paused for a moment as you aim exactly where you want the ball to go, before launching it at an unparalleled high speed. If you try to hit it too early, your racket will take damage, it ultimately breaking if you mess up too many shots and losing you the match. With their speed and accuracy, they are ordinarily also rather difficult to hit, assuming your opponent aims well enough. To balance this, there is Zone Speed. This allows you to slow the game and watch where the ball is going, giving you the time you need to get to the other side of the court should you need to. Both of these require energy, something obtained by rallying and charging shots to your opponent, serving to reward accurate prediction and positioning on the court throughout the match.

These two additions with the five classic shots alone make for a game of reasonable depth. I’ve come across players who burn through Zone Shots in an attempt to keep you low on energy, and I’ve seen the opposite, conserving to allow them Zone Speed when they need it most. I find it really quite fantastic how well the game allows you to play it your way. It never goes any particular distance in pushing you towards a ‘correct’ style, instead presenting you with options and allowing you to experiment—Adventure Mode is the epitome of this idea. Where I see it disappointing as a single player experience, it stands strong in giving you a playground to learn. It’s specifically aimed to teach you the intricacies of each new element, forcing you to return Zone Shots to understand the visual cues, and pushing you into situations to utilise them yourself. Of course, there are a few more additions; Special Shots and Trick Shots. A Special Shot is simple to explain, it’s the big kahuna. Requiring a full energy bar, you can activate it to see a short character-specific animation. resulting in a similar experience to a Zone Shot. The difference here is that mistiming the return will break your racket entirely, in oppose to just doing damage. It’s a high-stakes shot that can be used to play on an opponents’ weaknesses should you notice them struggle to properly return Zone Shots. A Trick Shot is something a little more fanciful, acting as a means of covering a long distance across the court to return a shot that would have otherwise been impossible. If properly timed, you also gain energy from the shot; otherwise you can lose energy and create an opportunity for your opponent to counterattack.

Adventure Mode gives you a launching pad to learn each of these techniques naturally; be it fighting a boss or playing a short minigame, it’s difficult to avoid improving your fundamentals. It isn’t quite what I expected from the game’s core single player content, but something about its charming simplicity and childish humour had me gripped from start to end. I don’t feel there’s enough here to warrant a purchase if you know you’ll never play with friends nor venture online, but if you can look at it as preparation for either of those possibilities, you’ll get a good deal out of the experience.

Pick a Partner

The core of the game is to be found with others, be they your friends or a match made in the great clouds of Nintendo’s servers. There are a few areas to discuss here, both local and online multiplayer available, as well as split-screen for those willing to share a console. For playing with friends, you’ll usually find yourself in Free Play. This mode allows you to create matches to a set of customisable criteria. Many of the settings here are standard, but the play time option is particularly interesting. With Quick Play and Extended Play being the only selections, there is no way to have a full extended game of tennis with a friend. To elaborate on this, Quick Play sees you play the sudden death portion of a match, meaning the first player to seven points wins. Extended Play is a little deceptive. While you may think you’re getting an exciting game of back and forth wrestling for points and sets, you’re limited to a single set game. It isn’t exactly the definition of extended. While this isn’t necessarily something that bothered me, I can understand frustration in having to keep track of sets manually if an actual extended session was desired. Add to this the inability to set up functional tournaments with friends and it’s easy to be underwhelmed. All of this is possible, as long as you’re willing to pick up the slack left by Camelot. What makes this particularly frustrating is how far a few more options for customisation would have gone in improving this. It’s the kind of irritation I can see being fixed in an update somewhere down the line, but with no word of it yet, it isn’t something I’m expecting in the near future.

General online multiplayer is actually a joy from what I played. From the demo, there’s been a considerable step up in the skill level of players, and the general experience feels far more pleasant. When you hop online, you enter into a tournament. Each tournament consists of 32 players, meaning you need five wins to secure the championship. A small thing I find myself appreciating is how these tournaments are built, matching you up to a player at the same part of the tournament as you and filling in the blank spaces with their match history. This means you aren’t waiting for each of the 16 matches to end in the first round, instead allowing you to jump straight into another game. I don’t know whether this is something that’s been done before, but I couldn’t help but think it worth mentioning. If the new shots and play styles aren’t your thing, you can also enter into the Simple Class; tournaments here removing these features and putting an intense focus on positioning and fundamental shot types. It’s interesting to jump between the two and see just how different the game is without its additions. As a small incentive to get you online, you also unlock new characters for participating each month. These characters will be naturally unlocked over time for those who missed or chose not to participate in a monthly tournament, but I feel this a great way to keep players involved and active, giving them a month head start to play with new additions to the roster and possibly find a new favourite.

Game, Set and Match?

All in all, I don’t quite know how to sum up Mario Tennis Aces. It is undeniably the best tennis I have seen from the series, but I can certainly appreciate its multiplayer focus not being entirely appealing to some. If you’re willing to dive into what’s on offer both offline and on, you have here a well-polished and fluid experience you may not be able to put down. I’m incredibly happy to see the series take a step in the right direction again, and I hope Camelot can take a larger leap into a true single player adventure in their next release. Until then, I hope to see you online!

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/sushi-striker-the-way-of-sushido.812/

I remember the first time I saw Sushi Striker. Announced at Nintendo’s 2017 E3 event, I found myself quite frankly confused. Who came up with such a mad concept as fighting with sushi, and why did Nintendo think it was a good idea to support them? I want to preface the review by saying you shouldn’t let your first impression cloud your judgement, this game is so much more.

Silly Sushi

Sushi Striker is an odd game from the start. After selecting which character you want, you’re introduced to a fishless world where sushi is a natural resource. With no resolute way of dividing the sushi across the continent, the Empire went to war with the Republic; a long and destructive struggle documented as the bitter Sushi Struggles. The Republic were eventually pushed back, the war lost and the mention of sushi outlawed; the eating of it a severe crime. Its divine taste still craved by many, the Sushi Liberation Front fight on. With the goal of toppling the Empire and sharing sushi across the world, our story begins here.

If you managed to understand that, you should have an idea of the sheer childish joy this game has to offer. If you’re willing to sit back and embrace strange as normal in this most alternate of worlds, you are in for a fantastic ride. Each minor interaction with overly zealous enemies as they announce their plans to you, each deflated muscle, each plate thrown, it threw me back to a time of simple excitement and fun. This bursts through in the artwork and in the cutscenes that feel almost out of place with how nice they are. The entire storytelling experience felt well polished and enjoyable throughout, despite following standard and easy to understand tropes and cliches. It’s something anybody from a child to a grandparent could enjoy effortlessly, capturing the feeling of accessibility and togetherness Nintendo often strives for.

Serious Sushi

Looking to the gameplay itself, it’s perhaps not quite what you’d expect from a retail game. Putting a large focus on the touch screen and brief, frantic battles, the experience is something you might expect to find on a phone. While I can definitely see this putting some people off, I personally find myself happy to see more games utilising the Switch’s featureset to its fullest. The battles are easy to pick up and explained well as you play, but at its core, it’s a colour matching game with moving lanes and an opponent to compete against. As you go through the game, you collect Sushi Sprites, each with their own skill and sushi types to bring to battle. It’s up to you to create the best team and sushi set to suit your play style.

The amount of versatility the game offers rather surprised me; an offensive player can chain skills to deal destructive damage in one hit, while defensive players can create shields and prioritise taking as little damage as possible. This pairs well with the game’s bonus objectives, each level having three. These vary from level to level, from beating it under a certain amount of time, to having certain amount of HP at the end of the battle, to using limiting the amount of plates you can have in a single attack. Each one forces you to alter your play style and team of sprites and learn far more ways to play the game than you otherwise might by staying in your comfort zone. Even with the bonus objectives, I still originally felt the game a little too easy, and as if it was fate, the game offered me a lifeline in the form of the Training Black Belt. This item lets you change the experience to be high risk, high reward. Tempting you with a 1.5x score multiplier at the cost of half your health, it creates much more of a challenge for those who want it whilst not forcing it onto you. It allowed me to struggle on a boss fight and actually cry out in triumph as I toppled his rippling muscular body. In all honesty, I still haven’t figured out the benefit of having a high score and rank on each stage, but there was a certain satisfaction from seeing an S encircled by a rainbow that kept me going. The lack of health to fall back onto actively forced me to move quicker, I felt my reactions improve along with my sense for good chains. It’s a great option to offer and I’m glad the game had a sense of difficulty about it, albeit an optional one.

To keep things fresh, the game changes the way you play from battle to battle. While some are standard, giving variance in trying to meet its bonus objectives, others put forward a completely different experience through means both clear and subtle. On the clearer end of the spectrum are special Sushi Sprites, the most memorable of these acting as a complete shield for any attack with less than eight plates. You have no choice but to create strong combos and brute force your way through the obstacle. The more subtle changes come from elements such as capsules. From time to time, a battle may have capsules appearing on the lane you and your opponent share, giving you both the opportunity to steal a quick bonus. These can often change the tide of battle, and are locked behind a number of plates. The beauty of these is that they don’t necessarily force you to change how you play like the Sushi Sprite previously mentioned, but you put yourself at a disadvantage by not. The way these levels are distributed comes across as a way of saying “hey, you should use the shared lane a bit more, it’s really useful!” and I can’t fault it for that. After you get past the tutorials, the game has a great habit of guiding how you play without overtly telling you. The times it is clear in its intent, it feels like a test of skill, something you almost feel you’ve earned.

Sushi Switch

While the Switch version is what I had the pleasure of playing, the game is also available for the 3DS. It’d be easy to say the 3DS version is worse—with the system being far inferior in performance, it surely must be the case? It ultimately depends on what you’re after from Sushi Striker. The Switch version excels and outperforms in its presentation. The larger screen allows for lush visuals that feel alive, the vibrant and fluidly animated cutscenes a spectacle to be anticipated and enjoyed. The 3DS version still has these same cutscenes and design choices, but is of course limited to its smaller screen and lesser resolution. It remains fine, but pales in comparison to the Switch. What may appear to be another clear advantage is the ability to play on both the TV and on the go, the foremost marketing point of the system. While you definitely can play the game in docked mode, it isn’t something I found myself particularly fond of. The game retains its fantastic presentation on the larger screen, but removing the touch controls really took away from the overall experience for me. The physical controls still felt responsive and fast, but lacked the precision of the touch screen. It’s something I would recommend trying for yourself, you may get on with it better than I did.

Where the 3DS version excels is in its gameplay. It is identical to the Switch version, but it’s in the touch screen where the vital difference lies. Its resistive screen requiring a stylus allows you the same precision of the Switch, whilst not forcing you to obscure your view as your fingers cover the screen. With a larger pen stylus, you can slam down the sushi with great speed and the best view of the battlefield. The 3DS version also finds itself slightly cheaper than its Switch counterpart, potentially making itself more appealing given the content itself is identical. If you’re still on the fence about striking sushi into the hearts of your enemies, there’s a free demo available on the Switch eShop I encourage you to check out. I had a great time with this game, and quite honestly feel it a shame to see the mobile-esque gameplay driving people away. Even if you feel it too expensive now, I encourage you to add it to your wishlist and buy it when it gets to a price you can justify; you’ll be in for a treat beyond the delicious dish’s divine taste.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/trident-pro-s2-controller.810/

Game Devil have a relatively short history with the Nintendo Switch. Met with mixed reviews for their first iteration of the Trident Pro S, many were disappointed with its lacklustre feature set in particular, as well as other minor details. If you’re interested in the original controller, you can find Tom’s review here. What I’m interested in is whether Game Devil have learned from their previous mistakes.

Old to New—S to S2

On the surface level, not a whole lot has changed. It sports a very similar look and feel, with minor changes to the aesthetic. One thing I immediately noticed however was the lack of stylised face buttons, and this is something I really do appreciate. While I understand the old designs were used for the majority of their products, I couldn’t help but think they took away from what is otherwise a relatively premium feel, making it look tacky and cheap. With standard printed ABXY buttons, I can look at this controller and not be repulsed by its association to the bargain bin controllers of an era since-passed.

Feature-wise, the biggest addition comes in the form of motion controls. Having thoroughly tested it, they feel similarly sensitive to the 8BitDo SN30 Pro; perhaps more so than the Joy Cons but not to any kind of extreme. Where it excels beyond the SN30 Pro is in its large grips, allowing you a better base to hold the controls steady and make small adjustments where needed. From what I could tell, the motion controls were the only change actually advertised by Game Devil, but a few other things were tweaked as well. The behaviour of the Turbo button has been altered to make it an on/off toggle, in oppose to having to hold both it and the button desired. As well as this, it now works with every button on the system, in oppose to just the four face buttons. This is a fantastic change; the biggest application coming to mind being Splatoon 2 and its Ink Brush. Whether it would be ethical or not to use a turbo button in a competitive online environment is a different story, but saving the wrist strain from mashing a single button is something I welcome.

The last major change I noticed was its connectivity to the Switch; it’s simple and easy, contrasting horror stories I had heard about the Trident Pro-S. Even after turning the Switch off, it connected instantly and simply. While less of a pro and more something we should be expecting in any controller, it’s great to see it’s now up to standard, fixing one of the largest issues of the previous iteration.

As a Whole

Looking at the controller as a whole, it puts forward a professional and high quality aesthetic. The changes to the face buttons go a long way in helping this, demonstrating a fairly standard layout and look. One of the smaller things I came to appreciate was the red and blue plastic used for the analogue sticks. They don’t do much to stand out, but it’s a pleasant deviation from an otherwise conventional look, without the garishness the Trident Pro-S previously suffered with its face buttons. The Pro-S2 feels great to hold, the reasonably-sized grips providing a comfortable base for longer sessions. Complementing this is the design of the ZL and ZR buttons. At first, the design seemed odd, suggesting analogue triggers in oppose to the standard shoulder buttons used by the Switch. The curved nature of the shoulder buttons allowed for my fingers to sit more comfortably and revert to them as a resting location with no strain or additional effort.

One of main selling points for this controller comes from its interchangeable D-Pads. Sporting three unique designs (the controller coming with two of each), you are free to use whatever feels most comfortable; whether it be a standard cross, something closer to the D-Pad of an Xbox controller, or even the satellite dish design seen on the Xbox One Elite controller. While many would much rather stick to a traditional D-Pad, I found myself enjoying the satellite design and haven’t really deviated from it since getting the Pro-S2. The D-Pad isn’t without fault however. I found myself often catching more than one input and while it wasn’t too much of an issue for me, some may not like the overall soft feel of it. The feedback from pressing a direction doesn’t carry the same responsiveness or satisfaction you might get from other D-Pads, this also being an issue with the face buttons. Their softness almost seems intentional as if to make you want to use the turbo functionality more where you would otherwise be mashing a button. The buttons never felt soft enough as to be irritating or put me off using the controller, but I can understand how this may be different for others. If you’re after reasonable feedback from your button presses, you may be left underwhelmed.

Too Strong, Too Furious

My largest concern with the controller comes from its rumble functionality. When I first used it, it came across as a little aggressive in comparison to the others I have; largely similar to the SN30 Pro when at launch. I didn’t think much of it and started to get used to it—this until I played a motion-reliant game. As I went to Gal*Gun 2 to put the controller through its paces, something felt off. After a few moments, I figured out the cause. When using the vacuum, the entire screen was shaking. To put into perspective just how bad this was, I’ve put together a short demonstration below.

Quite interestingly here, Gal*Gun 2 allows you to disable rumble features, letting me show the difference quite clearly. I’d like to be able to say you could simply disable rumble if you find it inconveniencing, but put simply, it’s not always an option. Despite the system settings themselves having an option to disable it, this won’t apply for every game. Of the ones I tried, Vroom in the Night Sky kept its rumble despite the feature being disabled in system settings. With the same being true with the SN30 Pro, but not with the Joy Cons, I can only assume it’s a compatibility issue many third party controllers suffer from. Were the rumble not so violent, this wouldn’t be an issue, but when it can actively get in the way of gameplay, my opinions change somewhat.

It should also be noted the rumble feature was constantly enabled for Infinite Golf. From booting the game, the controller was vibrating at its fullest capacity. This isn’t an issue I’ve seen in any other game, and I can’t seem to replicate it with either Joy Cons nor the SN30 Pro, so I really can’t guess the cause. What makes this a little more unfortunate is that disabling rumble via system settings doesn’t stop this. While Infinite Golf may be the only game I’ve found with this issue, keep in mind more may be affected.

Conclusions

Game Devil’s Trident Pro-S2 is a controller I quite honestly love, which only serves to disappoint me further when I see it held back by something as trivial as rumble functionality. I could see myself looking more favourably on it if it were missing this feature altogether. If you can get past this however, you have a well priced and incredibly comfortable controller sporting a rare feature in the form of a turbo button. The interchangeable D-Pads offer a pleasant degree of customisation without being overwhelming nor unnecessarily complex, and allows you to find the right layout for you. For games that aren’t broken by its over-active rumble, it is my go-to controller, I just wish it could be more.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/shaq-fu-a-legend-reborn.809/

Welcome to the rebirth of Shaq. The spiritual successor to what has been dubbed the worst game of all time, Shaq Fu: A Legend Reborn looks to right the wrongs of Shaqs long-since passed. With a fresh story and a clean slate, can our basketbrawling hero be forgiven?

A Legend Reborn

Our story begins with a misshapen tale of Shaq’s origin; a Chinese orphan bullied and abused for his height. In his isolation, a village elder named Ye-Ye takes an interest in him and teaches him the ways of Wu Xing, an ancient fighting technique. Shaq’s incredible power is soon needed to fight off demons in the form of celebrities, each aiming to subjugate humanity by brainwashing them into moronic subservience. I have rewritten this introduction seven times now, and this is the best way I can describe the plot. It is perhaps the most bizarre and outlandish story I have ever encountered in a video game. Beyond the realm of rational and sensical, it smashes together familiar faces for the sake of a cheap laugh and a cameo, and it shouldn’t work. It really shouldn’t work; and yet here I am bewildered by just how much I enjoyed it. It almost serves as a metaphor for what the antagonist of the game aims to achieve, putting forward something so stupidly enjoyable you might believe the game has come to life.

The humour of this game is a particular stand-out factor. Be it through the storytelling, or simple remarks made to introduce each new enemy, it’s present throughout. It served as my main driving force to continue playing, and what a force it turned out to be. Of my time playing, only one joke really fell flat, where Shaq broke the fourth wall and started talking to the game designer. In that instance, I felt the game trying a little too hard to keep up what it had already done so well, but it was only there I really find fault. Obviously, humour is brilliantly subjective, so your experience may be a little more hit and miss. If the idea of the story has you amused however, you should find plenty to enjoy.

Shaq Attack

Beyond the nonsense and the humour, there is the gameplay. If you have played any modern, or classic for that matter, beat ’em up game, you should know what to expect. You play as Shaq and take on hordes of monsters a screen at a time, until you reach the end of the stage and fight a boss. Rinse and repeat until you beat the game. Everything about this contrasts the unique and interesting storytelling, putting forward something so generic in nature it almost feels wasted in this setting. To be perfectly clear, there is nothing necessarily wrong about the combat in this game, but I also struggle to think what sets it apart; what it does so differently to stand out. There really isn’t much. I find myself disappointed in this respect, the thought of how simply this could have been escalated ever-prominent as I played. If Shaq’s attacks were bigger, more boisterous, more outrageous and unique; if they worked the hilarity and stupidity into the combat, this game could have pushed its limits far beyond anything we have seen.

When I first played this, I found myself expecting to see wacky combat like I had never seen before. It was a bit of a kick to see something so standard, but the game rather unexpectedly grew on me. With the story as motivation, and the gameplay itself not flawed by any means, it didn’t take long to enjoy it as a generic beat ’em up. While I wish it could have gone beyond this, it does a good enough job of providing a means of appreciating the more praiseworthy elements.

The Third Dimension

Graphically speaking, Shaq Fu had me conflicted. On one hand, it puts forward a beautifully colourful and alive art style in its cutscenes and character design; on the other the somewhat muddied 3D space used for combat. At first, the difference really struck me. The 3D space in itself isn’t an issue, but to go from something so fluid and refined to something quite simply less so; it’s jarring. Like many of my complaints, they only really stand out as you start the game, and soon fade from your mind. Even so, it again lingers in my mind just what could have been. For everything the game does right, its fault to the core is in its consistency. If the gameplay matched the humour; if the artistic direction of the cutscenes flowed into combat. Each individual component is fine in and of themselves, but I’m left wanting to see them in better harmony.

All things considered, Shaq Fu surprised me in all the right ways. Through its lack of consistency, it still puts across a brilliantly stupid narrative delivered by the Big Diesel himself. Although only containing six stages and around two hours for a complete playthrough, the experience offered goes beyond justifying its £18 price tag.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/shape-of-the-world.808/

Shape of the World is an odd game. Developed in Unreal Engine 4 by Hollow Tree Games, it describes itself as “A relaxing and interactive escape to get yourself pleasantly lost”. I don’t quite know what to make of it, but I hope my experience will be useful for those on the fence.

Welcome to the World

You start the game in a bright white light, with little to guide you beyond a faint outline in the distance. With no glimpse of instruction nor narrative, I approached, eager to discover what this canvas of a world would evolve into. In the beginning, everything felt slow, almost intentionally so. I found myself drawn into each crevice and cliff face, each rock and sprout; the contrast of definition on this barren screen drew me into progression and motivated me to move towards my goal. As an introduction section, I think it does a fantastic job. It sets certain expectations of the worlds’ growth, and that there is more to see if you are simply willing to look. 

As your near your first goal, you’re presented with what might be described as gameplay. With an unclimbable wall before you and two glowing stones, you must interact with them to create a set of stairs. It’s a pleasant experience that furthers your involvement with the world’s development and gives you a small sense of satisfaction in knowing you’re progressing. At this point, I was excited to see what else the game would do with these interactions. It had started small and simply to introduce its core mechanic; this is what I thought at the time. I wanted to see myself progress through this world through creative and interesting means, to see this simple world explode in a brilliant light of unexpected and simple. In the end, I found myself disappointed. 

Where I had hoped to see interaction escalate, the game gave me the same repetitive format over and over. Here are some stones, touch them to create stairs, follow the stairs for your next gateway and set of stones; rinse and repeat. This cycle grew more and more tiresome as it soon became clear the game’s sense of escalation came from the amount of stones you had to interact with at each destination. It ultimately came across as a means of padding the experience with menial content as the slow movement I previously praised felt like an anchor weighing me down. 

Outside of the repetitive progression, the game prides itself in its procedurally generated foliage and whimsical creations. This is one aspect I can honestly say worked really well. Seeing the world pop up around me, to see creatures appear from the shadows begging for interaction, it pulled me off the beaten path to see what was to be found. It could however only grip me for so long before my slowed pace made each trek feel less and less worthwhile. I could go look at the shining blob in the distance, but the amount of time it’d take to crawl there and back would only serve to infuriate me, in contrast to the relaxing vibes the game strives for. It’s a shame, because the game very much feels like it is there to be experienced; it simply gives you no engaging means of doing so. If you could move just a touch faster, if you had a second jump, if you had a sprint button, a short teleport; none of these ideas would compromise the game’s core themes or ideology, but would make it so much more playable. 

If the slow pace and lack of traditional gameplay and narrative doesn’t put you off, you may yet find some joy in the lush scenic beauty this game puts forward. Progressing through each layer of the world brings with it new foliage and themes, creatures and critters for you to approach and interact with. Each touch brings with it a pleasant sound, putting you at the heart of the world and making you feel a part of it. Even with the game only lasting a few hours for a full playthrough, if this kind of experience helps you relax or de-stress, I can see this game having some value. Shape of the World definitely isn’t a game for me, but it could yet be one for you. 

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/hyrule-warriors-definitive-edition.804/

Originally released in 2014, Hyrule Warriors received mixed praise akin to many a Dynasty Warriors spin off. Ranging from uninspired hack and slash to a fantastic take on the Warriors formula, it had fans of the Zelda franchise split. Being a fan of its original release, I wanted to take a look at its latest iteration, and see whether it can justify an additional purchase.

Welcome to Hyrule

To discuss the Definitive Edition, we must first look at its origins, and at Hyrule Warriors as a whole. Debuting on the Wii U, the game offered up Hyrule’s finest and most legendary as characters in a story that felt like three fans arguing about their favourite game. It was shallow and simple, yet oddly captivating. Through it, we witness an unlikely knight become a hero, a misshapen cast delve into other worlds, and the villain finally being vanquished. It’s fantastically standard, and exactly what I would expect from this style of game. While no literary masterpiece, it provides ample framework to accommodate the plethora of heroes and some good fun in the process. I struggle to gauge the length of the story. With 18 chapters, each with collectables and four difficulty settings, as well as the bonus content provided by the Wii U version’s DLC, as well as the 3DS version’s additional content, there’s plenty to do here. If like me you want to clear everything, you’ll have a road ahead of you; a road that despite its repetitiveness never grew old for me. I played through the game’s story differently to how I had the previous two times, taking the time to explore each chapter and appreciate each level of difficulty before moving on. Numerous play throughs with numerous characters, and yet the same content. I can say with certainty this is not for everybody; and I can say even those who enjoy the game may not find this as alluring as I did. There is however something to be seen from the variety of the cast, the fun of each unique weapon, to keep me coming back so eagerly.

The game’s story is only a single part of the complete package, and a small part at that. Even playing through it as I did, the bulk of the gameplay lies beyond, bringing us to Adventure Mode. Perhaps the most interesting thing here is to realise just how far the game has come since its original Wii U launch. Containing just the Adventure Map, its first release almost feels insignificant. With nine maps of varied difficulty, each containing unique quirks and challenges reminiscent of their associated games, the heart of the Definitive Edition lies here. Across each map, you navigate grid tiles, each containing its own challenge. For completing these, you gain access to more tiles, unlock costumes, weapons, and upgrades, and save each land from their individual woes. There is an almost intimidating amount of content to be found here. While I do find myself a little conflicted on whether it should have all been available from the start, or distributed as a means of rewarding progress, I’m sure players of other versions will be happy to dive straight into their favourite maps.

The final major mode is the game’s Challenge Mode. Notably missing from the 3DS version, it comes in three flavours: Battle Challenge, Boss Challenge, and Ganon’s Fury. Battle Challenges feel like a pleasant blend of the scripted action found in the story, and the varied objectives seen in Adventure Mode. Each of these aspects are turned up with an additional degree of difficulty, as well as a table to track your best score with each character for each challenge. Boss Challenges are similar, but put a spotlight on the game’s boss monsters, requiring a more tactical approach to what would otherwise be a straightforward challenge. I can appreciate what these modes aim to provide; ultimately an additional layer of difficulty to be enjoyed by those looking for more out of the game. I sadly cannot boast an excellent record with these, each of them ultimately feeling a little beyond my capabilities.

Where I did however find great fun is in Ganon’s Fury, the mode that appeared the most controversial in its original release. Allowing you to take the form of the game’s final boss Ganon, you tower above enemies and claw through troves in a way almost unnatural when compared to the rest of the game. There are two ways to look at this, neither particularly wrong. I find brilliant entertainment here; I have an appreciation for overpowered characters and ripping armies to shreds in single attacks offers the satisfaction I come to Warriors games for. This does however come at the cost of repetitiveness; more so than any other part of the game. While being monstrously strong, Ganon only really has two attacks—a claw, and a laser. With the laser leaving you largely vulnerable to attack, you’re ultimately using a single attack for the entirety of the mode. I personally am overjoyed to be able to play this on the go, the 3DS version leaving me wanting more, but its simplistic and watered down nature when compared to the rest of the game is hard to ignore. I would never really call Ganon’s Fury a selling point of the game; if you’re getting it, you’re probably getting it for your more standard hack and slash with a dash of Zelda. Should you find yourself with the game though, I encourage you to try it out. It may or may not be for you, but there was an undeniable joy to be found for myself here.

The Definitive Edition?

I find each of the game’s modes offer ample variation and entertainment to justify the time spent playing them, but much of it is simply content seen in previous iterations of the game. For those who already own both Hyrule Warriors and Hyrule Warriors Legends, you may be left wondering just what this game has to offer you. To be blunt, if you’re happy with playing on the Wii U and 3DS, there isn’t too much. This Definitive Edition is exactly what it markets itself as. As a compilation of each version’s additional content in a single unified package, you know exactly what you’re getting. It’s not to say there aren’t changes, but no single change stands out as reason to purchase it again unless like me you simply desire the best version of a game you already love.

There is one change in particular I’d like to shine a light on. Through my original experiences with the game, I had a single major criticism, this lying within Adventure Mode. I had fell in love with the maps and the challenges, the content to be unlocked serving as a constant driving force. This force however was constantly halted, beaten and abused, as my progress was hindered by the requirement of items. The breakdown of this problem can be summarised to this: to progress through Adventure Mode, you need items; to acquire items, you must beat map tiles. While it seems simple, the items’ random distribution across tiles already beaten soon made each challenge feel old and stale, pulling me away from my eager march of progress. The Definitive Edition quietly fixed this, much to my surprise, with the introduction of an Item Shop. The game now only requires you find an item once, then allowing you to repurchase it from the shop as and when needed. With this small tweak, the lack of save transfer from other versions now seems less significant to me; the task of beating each map again suddenly less daunting and arduous. Aside from this, I noticed no major changes, though it should be said other minor quality of life alterations may have gone unnoticed.

Falling Short

For everything done well, the game is not without fault. Unlike its previous iterations, I was rather surprised to see much of this lie in minor glitches. While it is possible these existed in the other versions, I never witnessed so many in such a short space of time. These varied from advancing the menu selection out of accessible bounds, to cutscenes and enemies not activating, to being warped to the top of one particular level. None of these broke the game, nor ruined the gameplay experience, but each one made me stop and think; wonder exactly what had changed for so many small things to be going wrong. It certainly amused me, but with so many smaller issues, I had an underlying worry something larger and more menacing was lurking within, ready to ruin my day. In this modern age, I’d expect many of these issues to be patched out in the coming months, but it should be noted nothing of what I’ve experienced would be enough to put me off purchasing the game in the meantime.

While not necessarily a fault of this game in itself, I feel it necessary to discuss the 2017 release Fire Emblem Warriors and the impact of it for fans returning to Hyrule, or those looking for more Warriors action after being hooked. There are two areas in particular that took a good deal of adjustment when coming from one game to the other: the lack of skills, and the less intuitive command screen. The latter of these simply stems from this game staying true to its roots, keeping the same style and themes as the previous two iterations. There was never anything particularly bad about the way you can command other units, but in the face of Fire Emblem Warriors’ streamlined and easy to access system, you may be left wanting more. The larger issue comes from the significant difference in pace that comes with the lack of skill system, particularly the lack of Astra. In Fire Emblem Warriors, Astra served as an essential skill, doubling attack speed and making an already frantic and fast-paced game even more so. Once you start using it, you soon find it difficult to go back; and herein lies the problem. Hyrule Warriors has no skills, and by extension, no Astra. If you’ve been deep into Fire Emblem Warriors as of late, the period of adjustment will be difficult and off-putting, but it will pass. If you’re willing to stick with the game for an hour or two, you’ll soon feel at home once more.

Is This For You?

I can say with certainty this is a definitive experience. Compiling everything seen so far into one convenient package, introducing an item shop to limit the potential monotony of Adventure Mode, and at the cost of only a few minor glitches. For a fan of Zelda, or just a fan of some hackery and slashery, I’d definitely say give this a shot. The price tag may seem steep, but for the content associated with each version before it and their associated DLC, it’s more than reasonable, especially if this is your first time playing.