The One Where Old Becomes Less Old

Wow, the places you'll go on wandering thoughts. Having just introduced a friend to the innovative concept of handheld gaming (via Link's Awakening DX and a GBA), I got to thinking about Mario's affairs in the portable realm. Of course, as most readers of this site will know, he had something of a rough Landing in that medium, but the plumber did eventually turn out some quality work. Flash back to 1994.

Welcome to an age where 16-bit is king! The SNES rules televisions, and the Game Boy enjoys dominance of the handheld market. Things have been kind of quiet for our hero as of late, with his last platforming adventures coming with Super Mario World and Super Mario Land 2, in '91 and '92 respectively. But things have been even quieter for his original nemesis, Donkey Kong.

DK seemed off to a promising start. To discuss just how popular and integral to gaming the 1981 arcade game was would be redundant. It was followed by a sequel, Donkey Kong Jr., which cleverly shifted roles, making DK the helpless captive, Mario the whip-wielding (!) villain, and introduced the titular Jr. as the new hero. Things plummeted fast in 1983, however, when the big ape was reduced to menacing the greenhouses of one Stanley the Bugman and enduring concentrated blasts of pesticide to the crotch (he also taught his son and his son's clone basic arithmetic on the side). Aside from the trilogy receiving NES ports (inexplicably cutting stages from each, despite the combined total of the games featuring fewer screens than Super Mario Bros' World 1), DK quickly vanished into obscurity after 1983.

The '90s saw a slight turnaround, with Jr. snagging a cameo in Super Mario All-Stars and an outright playable role in Super Mario Kart. But the big ape himself was also about to make a return. 1994 was a huge year for Donkey Kong, predominantly because of a little game called Donkey Kong Country. But that's not what this article is about. Rather, we're taking a look at a game simply called Donkey Kong.

Donkey Kong (often called Donkey Kong '94, to distinguish it from the arcade/NES game) was a brilliant case of experimentation. Things start out looking awfully familiar: Donkey Kong (sporting a brand-new tie) kidnaps Pauline, climbs to the top of a structure, smashes the floors out of alignment, and bares a confident grin. It is, in fact, on like Donkey Kong (I'm sorry).

When you take control of Mario, you'll quickly notice he has a few new tricks up his sleeve. For one, he doesn't break his legs and die after falling more than two feet. He has a triple jump, a backflip, a handstand and a sideways flip at his disposal. Yes, much of his Super Mario 64 repertoire came from a little Game Boy game. Also, remember in the original Donkey Kong, how you would grab the hammer, feel the satisfaction of smashing two barrels, then get to the next ladder and have to sit there and wait to lose the hammer? Well now just toss it high into the air, climb (or flip) onto the next floor, and grab it again!

"But Reed," asks you (if you've never played this game before). "doesn't this make it too easy?" And yes, Mario vets in particular will breeze through these four stages within a couple minutes and send DK plummeting to his doom. But wait...the ape shrugs off his multi-story fall and makes off with Pauline again!

As it happens, the original four Donkey Kong stages are only a prologue to the actual game, which includes 97 more stages, some of them expanding into multiple screens. The adventure predominantly involves tracking down a key and taking it to the door Donkey Kong escaped through. It's what we'd call "puzzle platforming" today. The transition is smooth, with the first "real" world being a large cityscape, which includes more buildings and structures. But as you venture on into a massive ship, an iceberg, a forest and an airplane, you'll realize you've been tricked: this isn't really like an arcade Donkey Kong at all! But the new elements are integrated so smoothly and are utilized so creatively that you'll find it doesn't really matter.

And just in case you're a stubborn purist, every several stages are punctuated by a clash with the Kong, where the objective is either to simply reach him or attack him in some way, much more reminiscent of the original stages. Furthermore, later in the game, Jr. joins the party, now taking on the role of antagonist's sidekick. He causes repeated problems for Mario in various stages, from altering the placement of platforms to tossing blunt objects at our hero just like his dad. And just when you think you're in completely new territory, some of 1982's DK Jr. stages are thrown into the mix.

The overall effect is a subtle overhaul disguised as a nostalgia trip. And this quirky experiment is greatly enhanced by a piece of hardware known as the Super Game Boy. For those too young to remember, there was a time when Game Boy games did not have color. In these dark days of pea-soup grayscale, Nintendo came up with an endearing creation called the Super Game Boy. Essentially, it was a SNES cartridge with a slot to insert a Game Boy cartridge, a "Game Boy Player" if you will. Except, unlike the Cube's peripheral, the Super Game Boy had a very limited color palette, encouraging (forcing) players to customize in order to find an appropriate scheme, only to have the whole effect ruined when they went from a water stage to a castle. However, it also sported borders (the gameplay did not take up a full TV screen) that could be created by the player, and allowed two-player for (some) GB games that supported it.

By the time Donkey Kong '94 came around, Game Boy games were being made with Super Game Boy enhancements in mind. So DK'94 was much more agreeable in terms of palette presentations, and could convincingly pass as a late NES game. The sound also got a shot in the arm. Finally, and most helpful to the experience, the game came with a custom border, which took on the appearance of an arcade machine. The four corners of the border featured portraits of DK, Mario, Jr. and Pauline. The overall effect, combined with the quality of the game itself, is strangely satisfying. It's like experiencing Donkey Kong on arcade, home console and Game Boy all at once, just as the game shifts from a nostalgic relic to an innovative new experience.

The game is sadly somewhat overlooked today, and even fans of its spiritual successor (the Mario vs. Donkey Kong series) often don't realize where the games' premise originated. But it's truly a shining example of overcoming limitations (the blandness of grayscale, the general difficulty of making a satisfying platformer on a handheld's resolution, color issues with the Super Game Boy) and producing a truly impressive product.

~Waluigious: How High Can You Get?

The One Where the Yoshi Meets the Fourth Wall

As I start my final semester of college, I've strained for ideas to post to Waluigious. It's probably a combination of my concerns about post-college future, recent family issues and self-imposed pressure of being the only (semi-)active writer on this blog at the moment, but ideas are hard to come by. So, I would like to ask you guys if there's any particular issues you would like to see coverage on. More puzzling over the functionality or evolution of an enemy/item? Analysis on a particular game? Discussion of character interaction?

I'm not completely creatively bankrupt, and have three or four ideas on-hand that I'll hopefully be fleshing out and posting very soon. But I would like to hear some opinions from the folks still reading this stuff.

Anyway, while in this baffled state, a childhood mystery floated to the top of my thoughts. As I am wont to do when I'm unsure about things, I indulged in something safe and familiar, in this case play Yoshi's Island. At one point in the game, where you encounter Poochy the dog (whose usefulness and intelligence are a matter of debate among those who have played the game), you stumble upon one of the game's numerous message blocks. It informs you that "We, the Mario team" poured their hearts and souls into the game, that it is full of secrets, and to enjoy. While I will agree with that on all counts, it confuses me. Are Miyamoto and Co. speaking to Yoshi through these message blocks? Does this apply to all message blocks (and if that is the case, do the similar ones from Yoshi's Island DS and Yoshi's Story fit as well)? After all, striking one with a giant egg never fails to freeze the game. Perhaps they are some method of crossing across dimensions (think the Mario movie, only less punk/leather and more pastels).

But Yoshi's mysterious connection with his creator doesn't end there. Enter Super Mario 64. Then play it for a while, until you have all 120 stars (SPOILER ALERT, as if anyone reading this blog doesn't know what happens next). Pay Yoshi a visit on the castle roof. He'll lament his tardiness in the game (as did I), then proceed to deliver Mario a message, seemingly from the development team. It ultimately comes down to trying to persuade players that there is still replay value to be had after obtaining every star in the game, along with a spiffy new jump and 100 lives to burn.

What does it mean? Can Yoshi come and go from the "real world" as he pleases, like in the old cartoons? Or does he have some sort of divine inspiration?

~Waluigious: "Mario, it that really you? It has been so long since our last adventure!" Sounds like a divine prophet to me...