A short note…
Oh, heck. KoF2002 is released today.
Oh, heck. KoF2002 is released today.
Phew. Finally got KoF’96 working on my Saturn. For a while there I thought the gameshark’s RAM element wasn’t compatible with the game for whatever reason. I’ve heard that KoF’95 was one of the few cart-and-disc combo games which was put out for the system, and that would certainly be a nightmare to deal with. I was hoping that ’96 was a bit more standard, but the first couple of attempts led nowhere.
I guess persistence is the key. And the result? Not half bad. It’s nowhere up to the level of the Dreamcast ports in most respects, but aside from the (incredible amount of) load time, it’s pretty darned close to the original Neo-Geo version. Here are some observations:
I’m now kind of curious about how ’97 fares on the system. I’m certainly not about to go out and look for it at the moment, but still.
All right. I’ve got other things to do right now.
Okay, so the story with Eolith is that at the time they initially signed their contract with SNK, Eolith was the number one game company in Korea. Of course, they’d only made a couple of really dinky-looking arcade games, so I guess an earlier rumour (that I’d forgotten) about them being the first game company in Korea doesn’t seem all that unfounded. (There have been several to follow in the last couple of years, but this is generally all very new to Korea.)
SNK’s games have always, always been popular in Asia and South America. Those have traditionally been their biggest markets. This is why it was such a big deal for Megaking to get that distribution deal with SNK somewhere near the end. Megaking was another aspiring Korean game company, and being associated with SNK did them wonders.
The same goes with Eolith. Since SNK’s R&D staff was all gone, and the King of Fighters series was “ended”, so to speak, it was left for someone to pick up. Aruze were cleaning house at the time, raping SNK of everything which might have made them a passing profit. So there would never be a better opportunity.
And so Eolith jumped the gun and picked up the license. And that’s what it is — a license. In other words, Eolith were officially making their own game, based upon SNK’s characters and designs. They just felt it wisest to continue in the tradition and make this game the next chapter in the established series.
Of course, Eolith… are not skilled game designers. Which is why they hired Brezza — SNK’s old R&D staff — to design the game for them. They wanted to make 2001 as close to an official KoF game as possible, only with their name on it.
And then Sun popped up and offered to publish the game. They were also made of ex-SNK staff. So the game would be developed by ex-SNK staff and distributed by ex-SNK staff. And Eolith would get the credit (especially since no one knew who Brezza or Sun were at the time). Everyone seemed okay with that.
But then what happened, of course, is Playmore grabbed up all of SNK’s properties and started organizing things. There was a period toward the end when Aruze just sold or licensed out SNK’s properties to whomsoever offered. Playmore put an end to this, and made sure it was well-known that they owned all of SNK’s material and effectively now were the new SNK. They were in charge, and would appreciate all of their property back now.
So the nature of their relationship with Eolith became a little strange. Because Brezza and Sun (along with Noise Factory) became part of the Playmore group, the game essentially is being designed by Playmore now. Eolith are contractually involved, and theoretically are in control of the project — this is their game, not SNK/Playmore’s. But for the most part it’s just a show. Eolith get the right to be a figurehead, and the less they do to muck things up the better. Luckily, they know enough to keep their mouths shut.
Megaking’s involvement with Metal Slug seems similar, except for a couple of factors. One, they actually seem to be doing some of the work along with Noise Factory. Two, they’re a lot more important to Playmore than Eolith ever could be. Megaking and Playmore together are who formed the various SNK NEOGEO branches, with the idea that Megaking would be intrinsically involved with the main Korean branch. So they’re not just cashing-in, as Eolith are. They want to be a part of things.
I’ve a feeling these kinds of deals are going to be very limited in the future, what with Playmore in the picture. After 2002, I don’t see why they have any need to renew their contract with Eolith unless Eolith agree to some sort of funding scheme. Otherwise they’re not really adding anything. I can see how Playmore might throw Megaking a few bones, but the thing is, Megaking are already involved in SNK NEOGEO Korea. So they’re in the picture anyway. And yet on the third hand, they actually helped in development. So if they were to continue developing for Playmore, that would save on some Brezza and Noise staff and resources.
It’s just lucky that Eolith were intelligent in how they chose to exploit their license. Actually, it’s astounding that things turned out as well as they seem to have done, all around. Playmore jumped in quickly enough to keep the wolves at bay and to make sure everyone who already had claims to some of SNK’s properties, was behaving.
I’ve not yet eaten today. This situation will now be remedied.
Galloping deities. I just realized that I’ve spent seven and a half hours doing nothing but staring at the screen, researching one random bit of stuff after another. The only constant strain was that it all tended to be centered around SNK in whatever manner — filtering out precisely what the intricacies of Eolith’s contract was with SNK when it was originally signed, what the Crystal System really was and why it’s never been used aside from that one soccer game out of Evoga (too complex to get into here, but I think I understand now). Rediscovering the names (which were mentioned to me dozens of times in the past, but my mind is a sieve for details like this) of all of SNK’s primary artists aside from Shinkirou (Tonko, I remembered at least). Sifting through the details of SNK’s bankruptsy and how it happened as it did. (Aruze is the scum of the earth, that’s how.)
And I am exhausted. If only I could put this kind of focus to work for the forces of good.
One slightly more entertaining-to-someone-other-than-me item, though, than other things I’ve learned today; the art to KoF2002 is apparently being done by the team of Hiroaki and Nona.
Okay, so that means nothing to you? It didn’t do a lot for me at first, either. I knew that Nona was the artist from KoF2001, and I mostly dug what he did for that game even if it rubbed a lot of other people the wrong way. So, fine. But who’s this Hiroaki? I learned he did the art for Bukiri One. That also didn’t mean much to me, although I knew one of the Another Strikers from KoF2000 had his origin there.
Finally I remembered the SNK art book that Shepard sent along with his other game stuff. I flipped to the end, and looked through the Buriri-One illustrations. It’s then that an earlier comment hit me. It hadn’t entirely registered, or maybe I wasn’t yet entirely sure whether to believe it.
This is the guy who did the art for KoF2000. And he’s fantastic. I mean, I thought that Tonko’s art for Last Blade and Mark of the Wolves was great. Heck, Tonko’s art was some of the first SNK artwork that really appealed to me. But Hiroaki is… I mean, jeez! (If my head weren’t throbbing right now, I’d look up a few examples again — but all of those windows are now closed. I might do so later, if I remember.) If you’ve seen KoF2000 (particularly some of the pictures in the art gallery), you’ll know what I mean.
So. Nona is still doing the character art, although he’s evidentially been instructed to tone down the weirdness quotient a bit. This is all fine by me, as his art has a certain grittiness and malease which I feel suits KoF perfectly and which the series has been lacking for a long while. His art is frankly just a little disturbing at times. I don’t think I want to know what else he draws in his free time. But aside from his style, he seems to understand, and do a great job at capturing, the personalities of the characters. His freehand art is kind of hit-and-miss, but at least it has personality and life to it. And again it’s certainly distinctive.
Meanwhile, everything else is apparently being handled by Hiroaki. Keep in mind the intro and ending sequences to KoF2000 when I say this. Yes? Yes.
This is the perfect team. I’m eternally grateful that Shinkirou decided to jump ship and move over to Capcom. We’ll never have to deal with his dated, grotesque mannequins again. And yet neither do we have the sharp anime look of ’99 and 2000 — which was nice, but perhaps not entirely appropriate for the intended tone of the series. I’m now really looking forward to seeing how the game turns out from a visual standpoint, as I don’t think there’s ever before been this much potential for the series.
I guess I can live without King. Gripe time is over; now let’s just see what the game does has to offer.
Geh. The list of characters for KoF2002 was just announced. I’m… not really thrilled. It could be a lot worse, but there are what I feel at least a couple of just plain stupid omissions. And were Brezza to put in just one more team — a mere three more character slots — I think they could form perhaps the ideal lineup.
The thing is, the game only has 39 characters, plus Shingo as a challenger (as in ’98), Rugal as the boss (again!), and a second version of K9999 as a mid-boss. This is silly, considering that 2001 had 40 characters and two bosses. You’d think a huge Dream Match event game would have at least a couple more characters than a standard chapter of the series.
What’s worse — they left out KING, of all characters! I mean, King! My King! Not only is she one of the most popular characters in the series, but she’s one of the few characters whom I can use really well (at least by my pathetic standards). She’s usually the first character I pick in any KoF, to test out.
Urgh.
Anyway, here’s the roster for 2002:
Japan Team:
Fatal Fury Team:
Art of Fighting Team:
Ikari Team:
Psycho Soldier Team:
Korea Team:
Gals Fighters Team:
’96 Team
’97 Team
’98 Team (Why is this the “’98” team?)
’99 Team
2000 Team
2001 Team
Mid-Boss: K9999
Boss: Rugal
Challenger: Shingo
Characters removed: King, Heidern, Bao, Foxy, Lin, Hinako, Xiang Fei.
Characters added: Yashiro, Shermie, Chris, Yamazaki, Mature, Vice, Billy.
I can see exactly why these characters were brought back; they’re the most popular and the most interesting of those who were left behind in the Orochi era. But why remove such interesting characters as King, Heidern, Bao, and Foxy to facilitate this? And what about poor old Jhun? There are so many ways this could have been organized better.
What I don’t understand is why K9999 is in the game twice — once as a player character and once as a boss. I’m assuming that Rugal and Shingo will both become playable as edit characters at some time or another, as they were in ’98. The same could easily be the same for K9999. Couldn’t K9999’s slot in the NESTS team be freed up pretty easily if he were only in the game once? Then we could drag Foxy back in. Foxy is one of the most interesting and different characters to enter the series lately, in terms of gameplay, so it’s a shame that she’s not in the game; her fencing techniques would add a lot of variety to the character selection. This is just the simplest and most obvious change, in my opinion. It doesn’t do anything to help bring King back in, but it’s a loose end which I think could do with some patching.
Something I’ve been waiting to happen — and I know I’m not alone in this — is for Chang and Choi to finally be set “free”, and for May Lee and Jhun to fill their places in the Korean lineup. If this were to happen, the lineup would instantly, and easily, be more complete-seeming. May Lee would leave a gap in the Gals team, and King could come back to take her leading role. Chang and Choi could take a place in one of the backgrounds, cheering Kim’s team on. Hey, they deserve a break as much as I deserve a break from having to deal with them. They make better window dressing.
Still, they are important characters. If Brezza didn’t want to remove them, then they could have taken out Takuma without too much strain. Hey, they already got rid of Heidern; the other “Oyaji” character who might or might not be in any given game. And Takuma doesn’t play that especially differently from the other Sakazakis aside from his lack of an uppercut (although they have all evolved a lot since ’99). King certainly offers more variety than Takuma ever could. So shove Yuri back in with her dojo-mates, and — again — give King back her team. Simple!
Another possibility: bring back the beloved “Oyaji Team” from ’98. Reel Heidern back in where he belongs, and once again kick Takuma out of his dojo. For the third slot, we can pull Chin out of the Psycho Soldier team. This would leave Yuri free to join Ryo and Robert as before, and an empty spaceon Athena’s team for Bao to squeeze in. A lot of Americans seem to dislike Bao, particularly younger fanboys who seem threatened by his cuteness. But I think he’s adorable, and he’s got really interesting play mechanics. I’m surprised he was removed, as he’s also become a pretty important character lately.
Anyway, once again this would leave an empty slot in the Gals team, for King — and it would only involve bringing back three characters, all of whom are reasonably important anyway. Plus, the Oyaji Team just seems to me like something which should become a tradition in the Dream Match games. It’s a similar kind of team to the Gals Fighters Team, only for old men instead of women. And it only comes to exist when the old men are pushed to the sidelines and ousted from their teams by the younger members — which would mostly be during Dream Matches. I just like this idea, somehow. It’s a shame that Brezza didn’t pick up on it this time around.
One last idea — perhaps the most radical of all. Most of the changes I’ve suggested so far have been reasonably small, but how about we combine them all.
Take where I left off in the last example, with the Oyaji team, and King and Bao returned to where they belong. Now what would happen if we “fixed” the Korean team again? Out with the ugly, and in with Jhun and May Lee. This leaves an empty slot alongside King and Mai. Solution? Slide in Mary, of course. This leaves a hole in the ’97 Special Team, however. What to do?
How about this: we swap Billy for Mature and Vice. That way, we get a second Orochi Team to go alongside the New Face Team. Yamazaki, Mature, Vice. This seems like a trio who belong together.
Meanwhile, what’s going on with Iori? He’s all alone, with Billy and an empty space…
… Iori, Billy, and an empty space.
Is there anyone out there who is familiar with King of Fighers and who has not wondered what the heck happened to Eiji? People have been screaming for years about the fact that he’s never made a return appearance since ’95 — not even in ’98, which would have been the ideal opportunity. Now we’ve got another chance, and he’s still missing.
He doesn’t have to be, though. And heck, even with his addition the character roster would still only be up by three under my current plan. This is not a lot of extra cart space, or effort. And just think of how much more satisfied just about everyone would probably be (aside from those few enormous Choi and Chang fans out there).
Here’s what my edited lineup looks like. Mind, I’ve only made a few tiny changes. But just compare how much more complete this list is in comparison to the last one:
Japan Team:
Hero Team:
Iori Team:
NESTS Team:
Fatal Fury Team:
Art of Fighting Team:
Ikari Team:
Psycho Soldiers Team:
Korea Team:
Gals Fighters Team:
Oyaji Team:
Spy Team:
Orochi Team:
New Face Team:
Mid-Boss: K9999
Boss: Rugal
Challenger: Shingo
Well, am I right here? All things considered, isn’t this quite superior — while still not all that different from the original?
Poo, see what happens when game designers forget to ask me for advice.
These are my extensive impressions after having spent a day with the game.
I never expected this game to be announced, and up until the time I held it in my hands I had trouble entirely believing the story. The whole Playmore thing from the outset is more like some kind of a fairy tale than anything I expect to be able to touch. But no, Playmore does apparently exist. SNK is alive again, sort of. And for some reason they’re still supporting Sega’s hardware. And the packaging is neat-o.
Really, this is just like all of SNK’s packaging in the past — well, their Japanese stuff, anyway. Actually even in the US, SNK were one of the few publishers to print full-colour manuals for their Dreamcast games. It’s just that their packaging and advertising was incredibly tacky — and Agetec picked up on that, destroying the beautiful Mark of the Wolves cover art in the region 1 release.
My point is, it’s really well-done. It’s along the lines of what SNK were doing toward the end of their life; KoF’99, Mark of the Wolves, Last Blade 2, etcetera. Nice cover art; nice disc art; nice tray art (both sides), well-made manual. Very clean, classy, and elegant.
That evaluation, I could pretty much extend to the entire production. The DC port of 2000 is essentially what you’d expect it to be, only a little bit better in most places. It’s not anywhere as good as the ports of KoF’98 and ’99 (Dream Match 1999 and Evolution, respectively), as a lot of work went into each of those to make them native Dreamcast games and more than just a couple of ports. But I think it’s safe to say that there’s more here than in any of SNK’s other Dreamcast efforts (Cool Cool Toon aside).
In both earlier KoF games, SNK added 3D backgrounds. ’98 had a new — and long — animated introduction added, drawn, apparently, by the person who did the character art in ’99. While ’99 lacked this extra touch, it was generally a much more, well, evolved package. The concept of ”Another Strikers” was pioneered here, and a store system was set up where one could purchase a large handful of additional striker-only characters, from most of the remaining cast of ’98 who got left out in this chapter to Fio, from Metal Slug. ’99 also got a snazzy new interface and an incomplete-but-still-useful inline move list which could be brought up at any time (as in Capcom’s recent efforts).
This port of 2000, meanwhile, hovers a little closer to MotW and Last Blade 2 in terms of overall effect and apparent effort. As with every other Neo-Geo game ported to the DC (aside from KoF’98), there’s a long pause at the outset while what must be a large part of the original Neo-Geo ROM set is dumped into memory. After that, unless one exits Neo-Geo territory (such as to the art gallery and puzzle mode), there are virtually no load times at all after startup. And as usual, Playmore have removed the typical Neo-Geo ”How To Play” introductions to every play mode in the game. Why this is seen as a necessity for every Neo-Geo port, I don’t know. I find that they add a lot of personality to the game; just watch Kyo’s and Shingo’s demonstration in ’98 to see what I mean.
Also as with every other Neo-Geo port (and this was a bit of a surprise to me), Playmore were kind enough to lace an arranged soundtrack into this new port. One has the option to switch back to ”original sound” — as with Mark of the Wolves — but I wouldn’t advise it in this case. Somehow in the transition, the excellent Neo-Geo music has become muffled and tinny, and has aquired a slight, yet (to-me) disconcerting reverberation. The sound level is also below all of of the sound effects and voices, somewhat killing the drama in Kyo’s theme, for instance.
I’m a little annoyed with these developments, as the original Neo-Geo music has a certain coarse, gritty edge to it which is almost entirely absent in the arranged score — and I think in some ways it fits the game’s visuals somewhat better. Nevertheless, the arranged soundtrack is fantastic on its own merits. There are details to the music which I never picked up from the original soundtrack, and it’s a lot more obvious what the music ties are to the score from ’99.
While I think overall ’99 has the more interesting score, 2000 certainly has one of the three best soundtracks of any King of Fighters game. It’s similar in style to ’99, and is in many ways more polished — think of the music in Sonic the Hedgehog 2, in comparison to the first game. Some people might disagree with me on both counts, and figure that the more polished music in the second game is superior. I’d be in no place to make claims against them, as the music is still terrific all around.
(One thing over which I think there will be zero debate is the new Garou theme. This marks the first instance where the Fatal Fury team’s music actually blends into the rest of the score — and it’s just fantastic. It is, by freakin’ Flea Man leaps and bounds, the best theme this team has ever had in a KoF game.)
And in this case, the mix is very crisp and clear — and each theme goes on for far longer than I’d expect. I think most major tracks must be at least three or four minutes in length before the loop. This is especially impressive when one looks at the travesty which is KoF2001’s soundtrack. But we’ll face that monster when we get to it.
I don’t think the voices and sound effects were resampled for the Dreamcast version, as they obviously were in ’99. It’s not that they’re of a poor quality, but I think they must have been directly lifted off of the Neo-Geo cartridge rather than from the original recordings. They sound fine; the acting quality is of typical SNK standards, and the effects are varied. I’m just saying.
In terms of what’s unique to this port, the most ballyhooed new addition takes the form of a whole bucketload of new stages which have been added to the game. One of the largest complaints I keep seeing about the original version of KoF2000 has to do with its backgrounds. For one, people seem to feel that there aren’t enough of them. People also seem to generally agree that the stages in 2000 are a huge step down from what we saw in the previous game — washed-out in terms of palette, and generally uninspired.
I’m not sure I agree with this evaluation; although ’99 certainly had some of the most stunning backdrops in the series, I’m not sure what that has to do with 2000. As it is, there are several native stages in this game which I find entirely impressive. The thing is, the ones which strike my fancy are the ones others tend to point out as lame while the ones which bore me are the ones which seem to amaze everyone else. I guess that’s pretty typical.
Nevertheless, it is true that some more variety is needed — and if nothing else, variety is what we now have. The new stages are all in fact old ones, rehashed from everything from Fatal Fury (all three subseries) to every previous edition of King of Fighters even to Samurai Spirits/Shodown in one instance. (Beyond this, for some reason the VMU save/load screen is taken (I believe) almost directly from Mark of the Wolves. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know. But I knew. So I did.)
The rationale for these stages is that they’re all tied to various ”Another Striker” characters present in the game. For those not familiar with the more recent KoF mechanisms, a ”Striker” is an extra team member who can be called in at any point to contribute a single attack of some sort during a battle — very much like what one sees in the Marvel vs. Capcom games. Usually this striker will consist of one of your standard team’s members. For instance, if one were to choose the Hero team (K’, Maxima, Ramon, Vanessa), one could choose the first three characters as fighters and Vanessa as the Striker. Or, since she’s neat and Ramon is annoying, thrust him into the Striker role instead.
In the DC port of KoF’99 and in any version of 2000, there are also what are known as ”Another Striker” characters; they serve no purpose but to be strikers, and aren’t actually playable within the game. They’re more of a fun addition than anything really useful, as they allow cameos of all sorts of odd characters from SNK’s arsenal who don’t otherwise get a chance to show up in the game proper.
In the DC version of 2000, whenever one is fighting against an opponent who has an ”Another Striker”, a particular background stage will generally be tied to that striker. For instance, I mentioned Samurai Spirits a couple of paragraphs ago. The reason that there’s (apparently; I’ve not yet seen it — perhaps it needs to be unlocked?) a stage representing that game is that Nakoruru is one of the extra Strikers present in the game.
I’m not sure if this means that when Awakened Kaede is chosen as a Striker, the background will switch to a stage from Last Blade, but it seems likely. The thing I’ve noticed is that none of the ”odd” characters — the ones from other series not immediately related to King of Fighters — have any of their stages available from the outset; when they’re chosen, the round defaults to a random native level from 2000. I’ve read, however, that there are more stages to unlock later in the game — so we’ll see, I guess.
Anyway, the new backgrounds do help a lot in terms of spicing things up. The only problem is — well, problems are, I should say — the varying sources of the original rounds. You see, some of the backgrounds are really dated. I mean, really dated. Fatal Fury 1 dated. It’s not uncommon to see highly-shaded, bloated, brightly-hued cartoon characters cheering the fighters on. Often the scales are all messed-up (consider how large the character sprites are in the Real Bout games, in comparison to KoF), and invariably all of the neat line-scrolling and interactive background elements (including round intros) have been removed entirely. This leaves a lot of the early KoF and most of the FF levels looking a little flatter than I remember them. Beyond this, the earlier KoF backdrops were often framed to take into account the ”benched” team members on each side, standing off to the side, cheering and jeering at the ongoing battle. Since this detail has been oddly removed from the series ever since ’99, the backgrounds again are left looking a little more bare than they were probably intended.
Still, it’s kind of neat to have the stages around. I just wish SNK had at least kept the silly line scrolling. Would it really have taken up that much more space?
There’s one other addition to the game, which hasn’t received a lot of attention; a new puzzle mode has been added, in the gallery submenu. There are three separate galleries for the game, containing Shinkirou’s annoying character drawings, promotional art and posters, various sketches, and so on. More art (and perhaps other secrets) are unlocked by completing a series of sliding-panel puzzles. I realize how lame this instinctively might sound, but I actually find the puzzles to be kind of entertaining, in a Minesweeper-ish way.
It’s a neat escape from the redundant nature of the various fighting modes, and it’s actually executed a little better than I thought it would be. There are satisfying sound effects accompanying every action, and tiles can be rotated to the left and right as well as shifted in any direction. When the final tile is slid or rotated to its right position, there’s again an entirely satisfying flash and fanfare — and from then on, that piece of art will be viewable in the gallery. I’ve only completed about a dozen puzzles so far, so I really don’t know what else (if anything) is hidden in there. But I’m glad Playmore decided to add it, even if I can’t figure out why they would have.
Something else I could have mentioned earlier is that the game seems to be entirely in English now, save the plot and ending quotes. The menus and striker names and everything. I guess I can just turn to a FAQ if I want to know what’s going on in each of the teams’ endings, but I’m glad to see how navigable everything else remains. The only bit of Japanese I’ve even seen in the game, aside from the above, is in the aforementioned VMU management screen. At first it’s a little confusing whether one has saved the game correctly, as there isn’t even a VMU chirp as a signal — but that only takes a few moments to figure out.
One annoying omission, coming off of ’99, is the lack of any sort of a movelist within the game itself. The manual, again, is great — but even as incomplete as the lists were in the previous game, the fact that they were there was incredibly helpful. I have no idea how to play Ramon, for instance. I could look up a FAQ, or try to decipher the kanji in the manual, but it would just be nice to be able to press two buttons and pull up some help, y’know? I suppose the original Neo-Geo game didn’t have one, and it was more of a bonus that one was ever included in Evolution — but darn it all.
Beyond an analysis of the game itself, there are only a few more random details to mention. First off, I’ve played King of Fighters 2000 pretty extensively in NeoRageX. The romset is a little corrupted, so none of the menus or ending quotes are legible — but that just makes it all the more compelling to pick up the Dreamcast version, as if I wouldn’t have jumped at it anyway.
The thing is, for some reason Mai’s chest received a makeover from ’99 to this game. In ’99, she was still as boingy as ever — perhaps even more than before. In 2000, however, something was wrong. It took me a while to figure out what, aside from that she seemed stiffer than I remembered. But then it dawned on me — her body might as well have been made out of wood during its idle animation. Her bounce was kept in all of her other movemets, but when she stands still in the US Neo-Geo version, her boobs might as well be painted on. Her entire body is stiff. I just assumed that the designers intended to change her animation a bit, but due to a rushed schedule forgot to add the frames back in before the game was yanked from their hands and they were disbanded.
This tiny detail left the game feeling incomplete to me. It could have been any character’s animation sequence, but how could they forget Mai’s bounce? And what’s more, why did Eolith forget to put it back in in KoF2001?
Well, see what I really know. After playing this version of 2000 for an hour or two, I realized that Mai was boingy once more — and how. I think she’s trying to compete with the Dead or Alive girls now (I’m speaking of the original game here). At first I was even more impressed with Playmore’s attention to detail than I already had been — but then I had a thought. I went back into my emulator and I switched it to emulate Japanese regional coding. I booted up KoF2000, and lo and behold — all the boing one could ever need.
All I have to say now is that this is perhaps the most retarded bit of censoring I’ve seen yet in an SNK game. The white blood I can understand, though it seems needless to me considering how cartoony everything is anyway and what the nature of the game is. The removal of all of King’s references to alcohol has seemed a weird to me, considering the fact that Chin exists — but again I’ve more or less understood why the changes were made, as little as I agreed with them either aesthetically or in spirit. But — just, why?!
A disconcerting change, in its small and harmless way, is the removal of all previous instances of SNK’s logo in the introduction and menu system, and its replacement with that of Playmore. Now, I’m not sure what to think of this — as KoF2000 is not a Playmore game. They might own the rights to it now, but it was developed by SNK. They deserve the credit, I think. And what’s more, Playmore’s logo is strangely-shaped, and it’s mostly green and yellow. SNK’s logo is simple, sleek, and blue. It’s icy. It’s stylish. It blends into almost anything. Playmore’s logo pops out like the packaging to a Fisher-Price toy.
KoF2000 has perhaps the keenest intro sequence in the series, and there’s one key moment (in an intricately-timed orchestration of images) where the screen fades to black, save a small, quiet, subtle ”SNK” logo — which then quickly vanishes. This has now been replaced with ”Playmore Presents”… and, well, it’s jarring. I almost laughed the first time I saw it, as it was so unexpected. I guess it’s not a big deal, but it seems little strange to me.
Lastly, I never actually made it through the game on my emulator — so I’d never seen the credit sequence before. Just to mention, KoF2000 has a really neat set of credits. Perhaps I’d best not get expectations up too much, but they mirror the opening sequence pretty well in how they’re arranged. And then…
Hmm.
Remember how at the end of Sonic Adventure 2, there’s that quote? How does it go… something like ”Another day brings a new dream… But for now… Rest easy, heroes”. Seeing everything that was going on with both the series and Sonicteam and Sega at the time — this is a kind of a poignant way to end things.
Well, after the obligatory ”CONGRATURATION!” (Really, I think they must do this on purpose) — most SNK games end with the same message: ”THANKS TO: ALL SNK STAFF”. And then, sometimes, there’s another bit tacked on — ”AND YOU!”
This time, there’s just a pause and a black screen — and then the game prints out ”Thank you all with love.”
…
Now, consider this. This is the final game by the original KoF team. They were disbanded immediately afterward. I don’t know if SNK made another game in-house after this. And it was released in late 2000, after the US, European, and Asian branches of SNK shut down. After the NGPC was pulled from the market. After they’d filed for bankruptcy. They continued to taper off for a little under another year before closing last fall. But this was really the end.
It might sound a little silly, but this final message kind of touches me, in a way. I’m not really going to say any more about it, but I thought it worth throwing out there.
Now for the game: It’s NESTS-era King of Fighters. It doesn’t play as well as either ’99 or 2001, in my opinion. It’s a little unbalanced, and the teams are set up kind of strangely. It’s an in-between game, in the series. But it’s still King of Fighters, so it’s still better than most stuff you’re going to find in the genre.
It’s probably the pinnacle of the series in terms of presentation. It just doesn’t get any better than this; 1999 was a step in this direction, and 2001 was several steps down. The art style is great, the interfaces and atmosphere are highly polished; the music is (as mentioned) terrific, and smooth.
A few new characters are introduced; some of them neat (Vanessa!), some of them useless (Hinako) or annoying (Ramon). Many characters have received some large alterations to their movelists, for better or worse (Kyo, Iori). And the last boss, Zero, is typically cheap although — notably — perhaps the least appealing KoF villain I’ve yet (at least, as far as I’m concerned).
The Armor and Counter modes, I find even more annoying and useless than in ’99. I far prefer the old styles of power meters from ’98 and before, and I’m glad Eolith chose to ditch these modes in 2001. They’re just not needed so far as I can see, and yet I keep feeling guilty for not taking more advantage of them. The striker system is a bit more useful than before, though not nearly as refined as it will be in the next game. Everything else feels as it should, to the best I can tell.
Although, unless one has a large and quickly-accessed mental resevoir of kanji, there’s a lot to be missed a lot in this edition, there are a lot of interesting plot developments in 2000. Again, it’s a middle chapter — so nothing really important happens. But we see the introduction of Kula, some important developments with the Psychic Soldiers team, and one of the most shocking turns of events in the series (even if it lacks the drama that perhaps it deserves, in the short time it’s given).
For a rundown, the game has the best SNK presentation you’ll get short of Mark of the Wolves; it’s pretty, it sounds good, it’s got good variety. It’s a little unbalanced, and the teams are set up strangely. The gameplay is as solid as ever, though the mechanics aren’t as evolved (for my brain) as in either ’99 or 2001. The port is perfect in nearly every way, and has several nifty additions. Playmore didn’t put as much work into it as SNK did with the other Dreamcast editions of KoF, but they did a much better job than I expected and better than SNK themselves did with their other Neo-Geo ports.
Playmore are real, and they seem to at least be competent. Now that I have this game in my hands, my respect for them, and what they’re doing, has been solidified. And now I’m really looking forward to what they can do with 2001. Heck, maybe they’ll even be able to fix the soundtrack. I can’t imagine it getting a lot worse…
Although I knew quite well that the game was released yesterday or so, I was still surprised when I was awakened by the UPS guy this morning. I honestly didn’t believe I’d ever hold the game — much more than in the case of Shenmue and Shenmue II, respectively. The time was simply far past for King of Fighters 2000 to be released on any consumer platform outside the Neo-Geo, and although the Dreamcast was the obvious platform, its own time is long gone.
I never expected the game to be announced, and up until the time I held it in my hands I had trouble entirely believing the story. This whole Playmore thing from the outset is more like some kind of a fairy tale than anything I expect to be able to touch. But no, Playmore does apparently exist. SNK is alive again, sort of. And for some reason they’re still supporting Sega’s hardware. And the packaging is neat-o.
Really, this is just like all of SNK’s packaging in the past — well, their Japanese stuff, anyway. Actually even in the US, SNK were one of the few publishers to print full-colour manuals for their Dreamcast games. It’s just that their packaging and advertising was incredibly tacky — and Agetec picked up on that, destroying the beautiful Mark of the Wolves cover art in the region 1 release.
My point is, it’s really well-done. It’s along the lines of what SNK were doing toward the end of their life; KoF’99, Mark of the Wolves, Last Blade 2, etcetera. Nice cover art; nice disc art; nice tray art (both sides), well-made manual. Very clean, classy, and elegant.
That evaluation, I could pretty much extend to the entire production. The DC port of 2000 is essentially what you’d expect it to be, only a little bit better in most places. It’s not anywhere as good as the ports of KoF’98 and ’99 (Dream Match 1999 and Evolution, respectively), as a lot of work went into each of those to make them native Dreamcast games and more than just a couple of ports. But I think it’s safe to say that there’s more here than in any of SNK’s other Dreamcast efforts (Cool Cool Toon aside).
In both earlier KoF games, SNK added 3D backgrounds. ’98 had a new — and long — animated introduction added, drawn, apparently, by the person who did the character art in ’99. While ’99 lacked this extra touch, it was generally a much more, well, evolved package. The concept of “Another Strikers” was pioneered here, and a store system was set up where one could purchase a large handful of additional striker-only characters, from most of the remaining cast of ’98 who got left out in this chapter to Fio, from Metal Slug. ’99 also got a snazzy new interface and an incomplete-but-still-useful inline move list which could be brought up at any time (as in Capcom’s recent efforts).
This port of 2000, meanwhile, hovers a little closer to MotW and Last Blade 2 in terms of overall effect and apparent effort. As with every other Neo-Geo game ported to the DC (aside from KoF’98), there’s a long pause at the outset while what must be a large part of the original Neo-Geo ROM set is dumped into memory. After that, unless one exits Neo-Geo territory (such as to the art gallery and puzzle mode), there are virtually no load times at all after startup. And as usual, Playmore has removed the typical Neo-Geo “How To Play” introductions to every play mode in the game. Why this is seen as a necessity for every Neo-Geo port, I don’t know. I find that they add a lot of personality to the game; just watch Kyo’s and Shingo’s demonstration in ’98 to see what I mean.
Also as with every other Neo-Geo port (and this was a bit of a surprise to me), Playmore was kind enough to lace an arranged soundtrack into this new port. One has the option to switch back to “original sound” — as with Mark of the Wolves — but I wouldn’t advise it in this case. Somehow in the transition, the excellent Neo-Geo music has become muffled and tinny, and has aquired a slight, yet (to-me) disconcerting reverberation. The sound level is also below all of of the sound effects and voices, somewhat killing the drama in Kyo’s theme, for instance.
I’m a little annoyed with these developments, as the original Neo-Geo music has a certain coarse, gritty edge to it which is almost entirely absent in the arranged score — and I think in some ways it fits the game’s visuals somewhat better. Nevertheless, the arranged soundtrack is fantastic on its own merits. There are details to the music which I never picked up from the original soundtrack, and it’s a lot more obvious what the music ties are to the score from ’99.
While I think overall ’99 has the more interesting score, 2000 certainly has one of the three best soundtracks of any King of Fighters game. It’s similar in style to ’99, and is in many ways more polished — think of the music in Sonic the Hedgehog 2, in comparison to the first game. Some people might disagree with me on both counts, and figure that the more polished music in the second game is superior. I’d be in no place to make claims against them, as the music is still terrific all around.
(One thing over which I think there will be zero debate is the new Garou theme. This marks the first instance where the Fatal Fury team’s music actually blends into the rest of the score — and it’s just fantastic. It is, by freakin’ Flea Man leaps and bounds, the best theme this team has ever had in a KoF game.)
And in this case, the mix is very crisp and clear — and each theme goes on for far longer than I’d expect. I think most major tracks must be at least three or four minutes in length before the loop. This is especially impressive when one looks at the travesty which is KoF2001’s soundtrack. But we’ll face that monster when we get to it.
I don’t think the voices and sound effects were resampled for the Dreamcast version, as they obviously were in ’99. It’s not that they’re of a poor quality, but I think they must have been directly lifted off of the Neo-Geo cartridge rather than from the original recordings. They sound fine; the acting quality is of typical SNK standards, and the effects are varied. I’m just saying.
In terms of what’s unique to this port, the most ballyhooed new addition takes the form of a whole bucketload of new stages which have been added to the game. One of the largest complaints I keep seeing about the original version of KoF2000 has to do with its backgrounds. For one, people seem to feel that there aren’t enough of them. People also seem to generally agree that the stages in 2000 are a huge step down from what we saw in the previous game — washed-out in terms of palette, and generally uninspired.
I’m not sure I agree with this evaluation; although ’99 certainly had some of the most stunning backdrops in the series, I’m not sure what that has to do with 2000. As it is, there are several native stages in this game which I find entirely impressive. The thing is, the ones which strike my fancy are the ones others tend to point out as lame while the ones which bore me are the ones which seem to amaze everyone else. I guess that’s pretty typical.
Nevertheless, it is true that some more variety is needed — and if nothing else, variety is what we now have. The new stages are all in fact old ones, rehashed from everything from Fatal Fury (all three subseries) to every previous edition of King of Fighters even to Samurai Spirits/Shodown in one instance. (Beyond this, for some reason the VMU save/load screen is taken (I believe) almost directly from Mark of the Wolves. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know. But I knew. So I did.)
The rationale for these stages is that they’re all tied to various “Another Striker” characters present in the game. For those not familiar with the more recent KoF mechanisms, a “Striker” is an extra team member who can be called in at any point to contribute a single attack of some sort during a battle — very much like what one sees in the Marvel vs. Capcom games. Usually this striker will consist of one of your standard team’s members. For instance, if one were to choose the Hero team (K’, Maxima, Ramon, Vanessa), one could choose the first three characters as fighters and Vanessa as the Striker. Or, since she’s neat and Ramon is annoying, thrust him into the Striker role instead.
In the DC port of KoF’99 and in any version of 2000, there are also what are known as “Another Striker” characters; they serve no purpose but to be strikers, and aren’t actually playable within the game. They’re more of a fun addition than anything really useful, as they allow cameos of all sorts of odd characters from SNK’s arsenal who don’t otherwise get a chance to show up in the game proper.
In the DC version of 2000, whenever one is fighting against an opponent who has an “Another Striker”, a particular background stage will generally be tied to that striker. For instance, I mentioned Samurai Spirits a couple of paragraphs ago. The reason that there’s (apparently; I’ve not yet seen it — perhaps it needs to be unlocked?) a stage representing that game is that Nakoruru is one of the extra Strikers present in the game.
I’m not sure if this means that when Awakened Kaede is chosen as a Striker, the background will switch to a stage from Last Blade, but it seems likely. The thing I’ve noticed is that none of the “odd” characters — the ones from other series not immediately related to King of Fighters — have any of their stages available from the outset; when they’re chosen, the round defaults to a random native level from 2000. I’ve read, however, that there are more stages to unlock later in the game — so we’ll see, I guess.
Anyway, the new backgrounds do help a lot in terms of spicing things up. The only problem is — well, problems are, I should say — the varying sources of the original rounds. You see, some of the backgrounds are really dated. I mean, really dated. Fatal Fury 1 dated. It’s not uncommon to see highly-shaded, bloated, brightly-hued cartoon characters cheering the fighters on. Often the scales are all messed-up (consider how large the character sprites are in the Real Bout games, in comparison to KoF), and invariably all of the neat line-scrolling and interactive background elements (including round intros) have been removed entirely. This leaves a lot of the early KoF and most of the FF levels looking a little flatter than I remember them. Beyond this, the earlier KoF backdrops were often framed to take into account the “benched” team members on each side, standing off to the side, cheering and jeering at the ongoing battle. Since this detail has been oddly removed from the series ever since ’99, the backgrounds again are left looking a little more bare than they were probably intended.
Still, it’s kind of neat to have the stages around. I just wish SNK had at least kept the silly line scrolling. Would it really have taken up that much more space?
There’s one other addition to the game, which hasn’t received a lot of attention; a new puzzle mode has been added, in the gallery submenu. There are three separate galleries for the game, containing Shinkirou’s annoying character drawings, promotional art and posters, various sketches, and so on. More art (and perhaps other secrets) are unlocked by completing a series of sliding-panel puzzles. I realize how lame this instinctively might sound, but I actually find the puzzles to be kind of entertaining, in a Minesweeper-ish way.
It’s a neat escape from the redundant nature of the various fighting modes, and it’s actually executed a little better than I thought it would be. There are satisfying sound effects accompanying every action, and tiles can be rotated to the left and right as well as shifted in any direction. When the final tile is slid or rotated to its right position, there’s again an entirely satisfying flash and fanfare — and from then on, that piece of art will be viewable in the gallery. I’ve only completed about a dozen puzzles so far, so I really don’t know what else (if anything) is hidden in there. But I’m glad Playmore decided to add it, even if I can’t figure out why they would have.
Something else I could have mentioned earlier is that the game seems to be entirely in English now, save the plot and ending quotes. The menus and striker names and everything. I guess I can just turn to a FAQ if I want to know what’s going on in each of the teams’ endings, but I’m glad to see how navigable everything else remains. The only bit of Japanese I’ve even seen in the game, aside from the above, is in the aforementioned VMU management screen. At first it’s a little confusing whether one has saved the game correctly, as there isn’t even a VMU chirp as a signal — but that only takes a few moments to figure out.
One annoying omission, coming off of ’99, is the lack of any sort of a movelist within the game itself. The manual, again, is great — but even as incomplete as the lists were in the previous game, the fact that they were there was incredibly helpful. I have no idea how to play Ramon, for instance. I could look up a FAQ, or try to decipher the kanji in the manual, but it would just be nice to be able to press two buttons and pull up some help, y’know? I suppose the original Neo-Geo game didn’t have one, and it was more of a bonus that one was ever included in Evolution — but darn it all.
Beyond an analysis of the game itself, there are only a few more random details to mention. First off, I’ve played King of Fighters 2000 pretty extensively in NeoRageX. The romset is a little corrupted, so none of the menus or ending quotes are legible — but that just makes it all the more compelling to pick up the Dreamcast version, as if I wouldn’t have jumped at it anyway.
The thing is, for some reason Mai’s chest received a makeover from ’99 to this game. In ’99, she was still as boingy as ever — perhaps even more than before. In 2000, however, something was wrong. It took me a while to figure out what, aside from that she seemed stiffer than I remembered. But then it dawned on me — her body might as well have been made out of wood during its idle animation. Her bounce was kept in all of her other movemets, but when she stands still in the US Neo-Geo version, her boobs might as well be painted on. Her entire body is stiff. I just assumed that the designers intended to change her animation a bit, but due to a rushed schedule forgot to add the frames back in before the game was yanked from their hands and they were disbanded.
This tiny detail left the game feeling incomplete to me. It could have been any character’s animation sequence, but how could they forget Mai’s bounce? And what’s more, why did Eolith forget to put it back in in KoF2001?
Well, see what I really know. After playing this version of 2000 for an hour or two, I realized that Mai was boingy once more — and how. I think she’s trying to compete with the Dead or Alive girls now (I’m speaking of the original game here). At first I was even more impressed with Playmore’s attention to detail than I already had been — but then I had a thought. I went back into my emulator and I switched it to emulate Japanese regional coding. I booted up KoF2000, and lo and behold — all the boing one could ever need.
All I have to say now is that this is perhaps the most retarded bit of censoring I’ve seen yet in an SNK game. The white blood I can understand, though it seems needless to me considering how cartoony everything is anyway and what the nature of the game is. The removal of all of King’s references to alcohol has seemed a weird to me, considering the fact that Chin exists — but again I’ve more or less understood why the changes were made, as little as I agreed with them either aesthetically or in spirit. But — just, why?!
A disconcerting change, in its small and harmless way, is the removal of all previous instances of SNK’s logo in the introduction and menu system, and its replacement with that of Playmore. Now, I’m not sure what to think of this — as KoF2000 is not a Playmore game. They might own the rights to it now, but it was developed by SNK. They deserve the credit, I think. And what’s more, Playmore’s logo is strangely-shaped, and it’s mostly green and yellow. SNK’s logo is simple, sleek, and blue. It’s icy. It’s stylish. It blends into almost anything. Playmore’s logo pops out like the packaging to a Fisher-Price toy.
KoF2000 has perhaps the keenest intro sequence in the series, and there’s one key moment (in an intricately-timed orchestration of images) where the screen fades to black, save a small, quiet, subtle “SNK” logo — which then quickly vanishes. This has now been replaced with “Playmore Presents”… and, well, it’s jarring. I almost laughed the first time I saw it, as it was so unexpected. I guess it’s not a big deal, but it seems little strange to me.
Lastly, I never actually made it through the game on my emulator — so I’d never seen the credit sequence before. Just to mention, KoF2000 has a really neat set of credits. Perhaps I’d best not get expectations up too much, but they mirror the opening sequence pretty well in how they’re arranged. And then…
Hmm.
Remember how at the end of Sonic Adventure 2, there’s that quote? How does it go… something like “Another day brings a new dream… But for now… Rest easy, heroes”. Seeing everything that was going on with both the series and Sonicteam and Sega at the time — this is a kind of a poignant way to end things.
Well, after the obligatory “CONGRATURATION!” (Really, I think they must do this on purpose) — most SNK games end with the same message: “THANKS TO: ALL SNK STAFF”. And then, sometimes, there’s another bit tacked on — “AND YOU!”
This time, there’s just a pause and a black screen — and then the game prints out “Thank you all with love.”
…
Now, consider this. This is the final game by the original KoF team. They were disbanded immediately afterward. I don’t know if SNK made another game in-house after this. And it was released in late 2000, after the US, European, and Asian branches of SNK shut down. After the NGPC was pulled from the market. After they’d filed for bankruptcy. They continued to taper off for a little under another year before closing last fall. But this was really the end.
It might sound a little silly, but this final message kind of touches me, in a way. I’m not really going to say any more about it, but I thought it worth throwing out there.
Now for the game: It’s NESTS-era King of Fighters. It doesn’t play as well as either ’99 or 2001, in my opinion. It’s a little unbalanced, and the teams are set up kind of strangely. It’s an in-between game, in the series. But it’s still King of Fighters, so it’s still better than most stuff you’re going to find in the genre.
It’s probably the pinnacle of the series in terms of presentation. It just doesn’t get any better than this; 1999 was a step in this direction, and 2001 was several steps down. The art style is great, the interfaces and atmosphere are highly polished; the music is (as mentioned) terrific, and smooth.
A few new characters are introduced; some of them neat (Vanessa!), some of them useless (Hinako) or annoying (Ramon). Many characters have received some large alterations to their movelists, for better or worse (Kyo, Iori). And the last boss, Zero, is typically cheap although — notably — perhaps the least appealing KoF villain I’ve yet (at least, as far as I’m concerned).
The Armor and Counter modes, I find even more annoying and useless than in ’99. I far prefer the old styles of power meters from ’98 and before, and I’m glad Eolith chose to ditch these modes in 2001. They’re just not needed so far as I can see, and yet I keep feeling guilty for not taking more advantage of them. The striker system is a bit more useful than before, though not nearly as refined as it will be in the next game. Everything else feels as it should, to the best I can tell.
Although, unless one has a large and quickly-accessed mental resevoir of kanji, there’s a lot to be missed a lot in this edition, there are a lot of interesting plot developments in 2000. Again, it’s a middle chapter — so nothing really important happens. But we see the introduction of Kula, some important developments with the Psychic Soldiers team, and one of the most shocking turns of events in the series (even if it lacks the drama that perhaps it deserves, in the short time it’s given).
For a rundown, the game has the best SNK presentation you’ll get short of Mark of the Wolves; it’s pretty, it sounds good, it’s got good variety. It’s a little unbalanced, and the teams are set up strangely. The gameplay is as solid as ever, though the mechanics aren’t as evolved (for my brain) as in either ’99 or 2001. The port is perfect in nearly every way, and has several nifty additions. Playmore didn’t put as much work into it as SNK did with the other Dreamcast editions of KoF, but they did a much better job than I expected and better than SNK themselves did with their other Neo-Geo ports.
Playmore are real, and they seem to at least be competent. Now that I have this game in my hands, my respect for them, and what they’re doing, has been solidified. And now I’m really looking forward to what they can do with 2001. Heck, maybe they’ll even be able to fix the soundtrack. I can’t imagine it getting a lot worse…
So the rock falls on Krizalid. Everyone goes running.And then someone comments that they’re trapped. The next line I see is this:
…
I mean, I know SNK’s translations tend to be a bit on the daffy side, but.
Ignoring everything else, why would Bao be reading Sartre? I would peg Iori (or, actually, K’) to be a bit closer to the idea that “hell is other people” than a goofy kid who chases butterflies…
Well, hey. No Exit only has four characters in it. It could be played by one team easily enough. The entire play takes place in a drawing room, so it would fit within a single stage. Maybe we’re onto something here. Once Playmore is done making games for the Neo-Geo, it can become the newest platform for Existentialist theatre!
Why did I never think of this before?!
Of course, on second glance, perhaps King would be better suited for the part of Inez…
Of course, one can only gather 999 points at a time in training mode before it has to be reset — and one can get around 400-500 points simply by playing through arcade mode (not even doing especially well), which takes far less time than the forty to fifty minutes which would required in training. Also, had I the DC link cable, I do own copies of both Card Fighters Clash and Match of the Millennium for the NGPC. So I’m sure I could get some points out of this business, if I just had a method to transfer them. But I don’t, and cables are rare and expensive — they were even when the NGPC was still alive.
Averaging 500 points per game, I’d only have to play through 130 more times in order to get enough points. Averaging a more sensible 400, I’d have to play through around 162 times. On the other hand, I could leave it in training mode again — for an hour and forty minutes each time — around 65 more times.
Just in order to finally purchase Nakoruru (I’d rather Morrigan, but I’ve mostly been ignoring the Capcom characters — so this goal is pretty far off (ah well; at least Nako’s sprite is new and pretty. unlike the grizzly artifact from 1994 or so which Capcom is still using for Morrigan)), I’d only have to play the game through (at 400 points per game) 57 more times. That, or leave the Dreamcast soaking in training on 23 further occasions. It would only take 38 more hours.
Oy. Capcom, in the future could you please be a little less annoying? This isn’t terribly reasonable. Especially given the difficulty level of the game (even when set on the easiest notch) and the extent to which you’ve torn apart my favourite characters, you’re really pushing your luck here.
Take a hint from Namco. Soul Calibur is I think the one instance I’ve personally seen where this process is done /right/ — where it’s actually *interesting* to unlock new features; where there is motivation and interaction through nearly the whole process. It took a few months for me personally to unlock everything possible (including buying up all of the final not-entirely-necessary art pieces and getting the “cleared” title screen), but it rarely felt like work.
I certainly wasn’t just leaving the game to sit without me, waiting for it to steep. I was eager to play through with each character (rather than seeing it as a chore), because the game was actually fun to play. The two-on-two mode which I’ve recently unlocked in CvS does seem quite a bit much more enjoyable and fair-feeling than Arcade mode could ever hope to be, but there are still some big inherent problems with balance.
Something else which is recently making the game more enjoyable is that some of the EX versions of characters manage to either fix the necessary moves which Capcom inexplicably crippled in the characters’ normal variations, or at least provide alternatives which make them a bit more competitive and interesting to use. (Worse are the cases such Terry, Mai, Kim, King, and Yuri. where a character’s standard set of moves are dismantled and spread across the normal and EX versions of the characters — and even worse are those such as Iori and Ryo, in which critical moves and elements of character control are either removed or altered drastically enough to make them feel like other characters altogether.)
Combine these with the much-desired original soundtrack which I’ve unlocked, and a few other cozy features, and things aren’t as annoying as they used to be. But the thing is, the unlocking process is a separate chore. One accumulates points at such a slow pace, and so many are needed for even the simplest features, that it takes forever to seem to make even a dent in the game. Further, when the process of collecting points is separated so much from one’s actual in-game activity (unlike the mission mode in Soul Calibur, where one accomplished specific tasks for specific rewards), then one feels no personal attachment to the process of unlocking. It doesn’t feel like accomplishment. It doesn’t feel like anything’s been earned. I took pride in completing Soul Calibur, as everything I accomplished I did by my own power. With Capcom vs SNK, the only thing required (indeed, the only thing which does much good) is an abundance of patience.
Again, this would not be a huge issue if other factors were not in the way. I can be a very patient person, as evidenced by the fact that I’m actually bothering to do all of this and I’m not complaining overly much about the process. It’s what’s required, and so I’ll do it simply because posterity so dictates. But one must wait for a very, very long time and the game simply isn’t enough fun on its own (due to the overall result of its design) to motivate a person to do so.
Ugh.
However, it seems Capcom have (sort of) been learning a bit from their mistakes. While they pulled this stunt in a few high-profile games they released in 2000, Capcom vs SNK 2 has only a couple of unimportant things to unlock. I’m not sure whether this is the right route to go either, as it always is nice to throw in a few extra things here and there outside of the normal and default game experience.
The typical pedantic hardcore mantra is that secrets and extra features are “fluff” and irrelevant. A lousy game isn’t made good by throwing in extra busy work and toys, and it’s supposedly annoying to hide the “good stuff” even in a good game. In message boards and newsgroups, people go on and on, tooting their own horns on the issue. Ideally these people would be having black boxes for sprites (no pretty character design and animation to distract them), with short “beep”s as audio cues. Those might even be seen as a luxury.
I’ve further read people scoff that any game would have unlockable features, as obviously the first thing anyone does is to download a completed save file so he can just play the thing unperturbed by the false barriers supposedly thrown in by marketing in order to increase play time.
I think it’s safe to say that I am not a hardcore gamer. Furthermore I hope not to be a hardcore anything.
Capcom vs SNK is a perfect example, however, for their primary point — which is a valid one, up to its own particular degree. (As with anything else, there is a need for balance.) It is a so-so game which is simply made annoying through its preponderance of locked material — much of which is not simply “extra” material (as I would consider Nakoruru and Morrigan’s characters, since they are obviously extraneous to and fantastical within the context of the game as a whole) but which is needed in order to make the game feel somewhat complete. However, even with this extra data there’s still an irritating amount left omitted simply by the game’s design — and no amount of extra hidden material could ever make up for this fact.
Soul Calibur and Dead or Alive 2 are other interesting examples of how far the concept can be taken in each direction. Soul Calibur is one of the most excellent fighting games which has ever been made, and it happened to be matched with one of the best systems of extra features (most of which were truly “extra” in one way or another) and methods of discovery which has been in any game of its sort. Soul Calibur is a great game, but the added value of its surplus of surrounding material and the engaging way of gathering this material makes the game all the much better.
The game’s world is gradually enhanced, and through mastery of the game and exploration, the single player is constantly rewarded. Even though it’s just a fighting game, Soul Calibur is one of the deepest and most satisfying games I’ve ever played. Without all of this surrounding material, it would merely just been fun to play. And there’s only so long you can play through arcade mode on your own, and still have fun doing it.
Dead or Alive 2 came quickly afterward, and seemed to promise stiff competition for the best 3D Dreamcast fighter. The game itself is entertaining enough. In some ways it’s deeper than Soul Calibur, while in others more shallow. It has its own feel, and it’s an adequate one. The real problem is that this is all there is. The game has a very solid engine and is reasonably fun to play, but there is nothing more to be done with the game once you’ve tinkered around with arcade mode for a few hours.
One can learn to use all of the characters, and play against other people (if one happens to have friends), and that’s fine; that’s a large part of the core point of a fighting game. But as a home game, and as a complete package, it is severely lacking. There isn’t even the complex plot one finds in Soul Calibur — nor are the character designs anywhere nearly as interesting. The character models are a bit more complex, but they all look like plastic blow-up dolls with different hair and clothes. They have no particular personality. There’s literally nothing to unlock, aside from the hidden ability to restore that nude Kasumi scene in the intro. (I suppose that would be enough to satiate the people who would find Kasumi interesting enough to be attractive.) No extra characters (not even the last boss), no extra rounds, no extra modes, no art gallery, no extra music, no extra options, no extra costumes, and certainly nothing original and creative.
So it’s an okay game, which one plays for a few hours and then, once everything interesting has been studied, puts away forever, at least in terms of the game itself. There’s no reason to keep playing, and as a complete game it really suffers. Again, the game is reasonably fun. If it offered something engaging which simply could not be found elsewhere, then maybe that would be enough on its own. But it’s just another fighting game — a very pretty one, with a sort of interesting system. The same way that Grandia II is a very pretty RPG with a sort of interesting system. It’s simply not original enough, and doesn’t have enough personality, to stand on its own — as solid as its underlying structure might be.
While it might not be true that a fundamentally bad game can be made worthwhile by the addition of bonus fluff, and while an amazing game doesn’t particularly need any filler, it’s exactly this sort of game which suffers for a lack of it. The game is capable and well-made, but there is nothing particularly unique to hold one’s interest for an extended period. If there were a handful of extra elements with which to toy around, if for nothing else than to break up the monotony, then it would reflect back on the existing material, making what is already there all the much more captivating. If enough of the right notes were hit in its presentation, the game could become something really memorable. Maybe not quite good enough, but at least substantial enough to be one of the elite.
Capcom vs SNK 2, from what I hear, is more than complex enough to hold one’s interest for quite an extended period even despite some continued niggling issues carried over from its predecessor — and this is good. My real point, however, is that I hope Capcom isn’t simply going from one extreme to the other and missing the point entirely in the process. It really helps a lot to have some extra material in a fundamentally shallow sort of a game such as this (as infinitely complex as the internal mechanics and the actual process of mastery might be). Otherwise, the game just becomes a toy.
It’s been shown that nearly any type of game has the potential to be far more than that, and it would be nice to see if they’ve come to understand this principle. They certainly have the talent, and occasionally one sees where they could have the heart. There are only so many worthwhile developers out there these days, and the good ones (Sega, SNK, Treasure) always seem to be in the worst shape. Capcom are in a better place than most to carry on the ideal, and it’s irritating to see themselves constantly missing the mark by just enough that it’s obvious they simply weren’t trying hard enough.
Hrm.
Anyway, there’s that.
I played the file over and over, for nearly an hour. As much of a dork as I felt, I found myself giggling wildly, unable to control my glee, each time the movie ended. For the first several times I played it, my eyes even began to mist up a bit toward the end. I’m not sure why; it’s not like I was ever really very big into the Fatal Fury series until just very recently. But it felt similarly to my seeing the intro to Sonic Adventure for the first time, or watching that original “You’re not the only Hero” trailer for PSO — only even more so! Even stranger, I now get a similar sort of feeling every time I hear ESAKA played.
Why is this? Why did SNK’s series make such a huge impression on me, so quickly? It seems odd that my brain would be making as big a deal about this as if I were watching the intro to a new Streets of Rage.
I like this controller, too. It’s purple, and it’s large enough for my hands.
I have only had two controllers ever fail on me before, in all of my years of gaming, and both were MadCatz DC pads. Maybe this says something. I mean, I try to take care of my stuff.
Headhunter is out in Europe now, and I’ve only seen a single review for it so far — and I don’t believe I’ve seen a more generic, content-less, undescriptive review for a game in my life. Still, it does look interesting — and I think I trust a Scandinavian game developer much more than I would most Western ones. And Shenmue II should be out in Europe soon, meaning my order should be filled in a couple of weeks.
I only today noticed where Mai stores her endless supply of fans. Yes, it’s exactly where you’d imagine. I’ll have to check some other games with her in them, now, and see if that was just Capcom’s addition or not…
Out of everything, I’ll probably be going back to Mars Matrix the most.
When I played the Saturn version of Savior I had wondered about a couple of the stages, particularly Brazil and the one on the side of the skyscraper. There seemed to be many more things going on in the background in the Saturn version than in my copy of the game, including a lizard being chomped on in the former and helicopters and coloured lights in the latter. Also, many levels of scrolling seemed to be missing in my version. I thought it was a little cheap that Capcom left some of these elements out of the game, as Chronicle was supposed to be a compilation and combination of all of the previous games, into one. As it ends up, though, it all relies on what one sets the game to emulate.
I suppose I’ve mostly been playing in “Vampire” mode, making it play the most like the first game in the series. I just earlier set it to “Savior”, and the backdrops were suddenly quite alive. Also, the music was different (and in places more appropriate).
This is very interesting…
A wolf named Rock. Hm.