It’s hard to tell, but this has to be from The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, the only SNES Super Famicom Zelda release.  Japanese commercials are… weird.  No gameplay, no information, just lots of costumes, pumpin’ music, and choreographed dancing.  Oh, and a giant Ganon puppet that bears a passing resemblance to Jabba the Hutt.

But that’s what makes it just so incredibly awesome.  It reminds me a bit of the Men In Black theme song, but taken to the next level.  The level of… Zelda.  Check it out after the jump!

You’ve seen it.  You can’t un-see it.  But honestly, why would you want to?

This week on Retro Reunion we have a very special commercial for you. This little gem isn’t pimping the Sega Mega Drive or SNES – oh no! This 30-second clip is dedicated to what is obviously one of the most incredible handheld gaming devices in the history of games.

The ad starts out like a steamy night with Russell Brand: hot. Arnie is doing his thing, donned in his classic Mr. Freeze outfit. But then something happens; all of a sudden it switches gears and becomes even more radically bodacious. You’ll definitely have to pick your jaw up off the floor when you see how insanely insane the insane graphics are!

I think I’m going to need a change of underwear because you can actually touch Batman in his happy place! And if you manage to please Batman enough, you’ll (probably) win the game.

Everybody get on eBay now and try to find one of these pieces of gaming history!

With all the latest hype surrounding Project Needlemouse, it’s only fitting that we add a little retro flavor to the mix. Video game ads just aren’t what they used to be; back in the day, it was perfectly logical (and hilarious) to blend one of the biggest sequels with an infomercial.

The end result is a great marketing piece that doesn’t take itself seriously. Not that Sega really needed to make a big push for Sonic the Hedgehog 2 thanks to the success of its predecessor.

Finally, an intelligent way to cover up that bothersome bald spot of mine. Must not forget to pick up that weird dog sweater as well.

Here we go again. I always get a bit teary when it comes to Retro Day, especially on a week when it’s my birthday and I realize that we’ve seen out yet another year of spectacular titles.

But enough of that soppy crap, let’s get stuck into some juicy retro morsels. This week I’ll be taking you back in time to the good old days of FMV, with a game that was – at the time – the most expensive video game ever produced.

So strap yourself in, keep those fidgeting digits away from the eject button, and prepare yourself for a trip back to Wing Commander III: Heart of the Tiger.

When it was released in 1994, Heart of the Tiger was dubbed “the world’s first interactive movie”. While most gamers would scoff at such a claim today, by all accounts it was very much what the media hyped it to be. With a 10-minute intro clip, and no main menu, players knew straight away what they were in for.

At the time, I was infatuated with Star Wars (well, I still am), and as soon as I saw the dreamy face of Mark Hamill adorning a pre-owned PlayStation cover, I knew that I had to buy it.

I probably missed the boat by about four years since its release date, but I was still gobsmacked by the technology utilized to create such stunning visuals. As one of the first video games – or films for that matter – to shoot everything in front of a green screen, and then digitally add backgrounds and sets during post-production, Heart of the Tiger, and its designer, Chris Roberts, were way ahead of their time.

Fans of previous Wing Commander iterations will be pleased to see old faces like Hobbes and Maniac returning for duty, with your Kilrathi friend playing an integral role in the storyline.

One of the reasons that the Wing Commander series was so successful was for exactly that reason: the storyline. Every game played out like a movie, even more so in the third and fourth instalments, and gamers were able to feel a true sense of connection to the protagonist, Blair.

The developers were also smart enough to realize that you shouldn’t fiddle with a near-perfect product. Origin Systems may have revamped the look and feel of the game, but they left the elements that made the first two games so enjoyable alone. Playing as Luke Skywalker Colonel Christopher Blair, you are still able to choose your ship before most missions, mess around with it’s weapons, and call on your fellow shipmates to be your wingmen.

In an era of gaming when linearity was almost scripture, Heart of the Tiger broke away from the mould and offered gamers a level of freedom rarely seen in the space combat genre. Mixing up RPG elements, and hiring some wonderful actors to star alongside Mark Hamill (John Rhy-Davies, and Malcolm MacDowell to name a few), Wing Commander III turned into a game that you simply couldn’t put down.

As the game progresses and the story becomes more immersive, Blair’s choices begin to reap consequences. I don’t want to spoil the game for anyone who hasn’t played it (so look away now) but when Hobbes is revealed to be a sleeper agent for the Kilrathi, you are given the option to be headstrong and follow the hairy bastard, or be the sensible one – albeit cowardly – and stay to protect your ship.

Heart of the Tiger is certainly nothing like what Heavy Rain intends to be, but it gives players the feeling that they are having a direct influence on the course of history. While many games can claim to do the same thing, not many are able to do it in such a stirring way; I still have a powerful, decade-old image in my head of Hobbes murdering Cobra.

Technology may have moved on in the last 16 years, but storytelling such as this is a rarity in games today. If you have never played a Wing Commander game, do yourself a favor and pick up Heart of the Tiger. I guarantee that you will be entertained, if nothing else.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

Bringing awkwardness to another level is this week’s Retro Ad. Who would have thought that combining the annoying kid from E.T. with your friendly local pervert could produce such an uncomfortable 30 seconds?

Hit the jump to see how Intellivision marketers dropped the ball on this one.

That shifty smirk at 0:18 will haunt my dreams forever.

Don’t take that copy of Lock ‘n’ Chase, Elliot! It’s not a game!

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

Simply by visiting this website, I’m going to take the liberty of assuming that the majority of you have dealt with bullies at some point in your lives. Sega recognized this, and started to market ads that appealed to the underdog, the lesser-man… the nerd.

This week’s Retro Ad is a hilarious trip back to what Sega marketers thought us “nerds” fantasized about doing to our tormentors.

Hit the jump to check out the results.

Who would have thought that saying “I said chocolate chip” in such a nonchalant way could glean such fantastic results?

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

After Simon Jones’s The Neverhood piece last Thursday, the logical follow-up is its sequel: the overlooked PlayStation gem, Skullmonkeys.

While set in the same universe as its predecessor, Skullmonkeys is a completely different beast.  It’s a platformer in the purest sense of the word – that is, there are platforms EVERYWHERE, and one false step means a quick death.

Luckily, the claymation charm stayed intact through the genre shift, and Klaymen remained as lovable a protagonist as ever.

First off, the entire game is animated with clay: the characters, the backdrops, even the sound effects are clay-like.  This not only provides a unique game world, it also allows for some ridiculous quirks that could only be achieved with the hand-crafted aesthetic.

The actual gameplay is incredibly derivative Earthworm Jim-style shenanigans (not surprising, considering that game creator Doug TenNapel created Jim’s character, as well as Skullmonkeys hero Klaymen).  It’s just a simple side-scrolling platform game.  Run.  Jump.  Collect a hundred clay balls for an extra life.  Make it to the end of the level to win.

But the cutscenes… oh my!  If you dig fart jokes, this game may very well make you pee your pants with laughter.  There is a wicked humor permeating the entire world that was completely unlike anything else on the market at the time.  I suppose you could describe it as a morbidly comic cross between Tim Schafer and Tim Burton.

Farts melt enemies’ faces.  Klaymen breaks out (hilariously) in painful, itchy boils because he ate the wrong potato.  Beans are eaten with empty eye sockets.  Heads are removed.  Arms are eaten.  Monsters are bisected with safety scissors.  The gruesomeness is lightened by the very nature of the clay medium, and Klaymen’s unassuming nature and near-muteness make him a lovable lead.

The music, likewise, is incredibly organic.  The soundtrack consists of acoustic guitars, primal grunts, drums, some good ol’ fashioned beatboxing, and other alien instruments (I think I even heard a zither at one point).  Some tracks consist of nothing but mouth noises, in the style of Bjork’s 2004 a cappella album, Medúlla.

The shining moment, however, is the bonus level song, which stands out as perhaps the single funniest in-game song of all time – no exaggeration.  The soundtrack, Imaginarium: Songs from the Neverhood, even won GMR Magazine’s “Best Game Music of the Year” award.  (You can find some copies on Amazon for about $70, or a few of the songs can be heard here.)

The problem with Skullmonkeys is that it peters off as it progresses.  The first few levels are incredibly unique and fresh.  There are charming cutscenes every twenty minutes or so, and they always feel like a worthwhile reward for what is otherwise a very standard platformer.

About halfway through the game, the cutscenes become fewer and farther between.  Couple this with some incredibly frustrating jumping required of the player (picture a Mario game where every jump is a full screen onto an eight-pixel-wide moving block), and you have the reason that most of the few people that actually played the game left it unfinished.

Normally, I would say, “Stick with it.  Your perseverance will pay off in the end!”  Sadly, this isn’t true.  The first half of the game is fun, clever, and you never know what you’ll come up against next (weirdest boss battle ever: Joe-head-Joe!).  Every gamer should play the first half of Skullmonkeys.

The second half, however, is full of frustrating, controller-throwing moments.  A normally calm, collected gamer, even I was yelling at my TV.  “Come on!  Are you kidding me?!  Am I done yet?”  There were hundreds upon hundreds of raised and moving platforms to navigate with no clear end in sight, and there was only one (one!) memorable cutscene throughout the whole second half of the game.

At least I finally figured out where I got to use the potato bestowed upon me at the beginning of the game.

Still, it sucks to see an interesting game go downhill so quickly and leave me with such an unsatisfying ending.  “Whoops, budget’s met!  Roll credits!”  Cutting the playtime in half would have given the game so much more impact.  The dozens of fan sites and the game’s cult following would be better deserved if the entire product was as fresh and strange as the first few hours.

I can’t say I’ve ever recommended playing a game without insisting you complete it, but it’s like Star Wars.  Stick with the first half (Episodes 4, 5 and 6) if you don’t want your complete experience to be a tarnished memory.  If you had quit while you were ahead, TenNapel, you could have been a gaming icon.

Sometimes, the taste left in our mouth overpowers any former sweetness.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

If you are one of the lucky kids who remembers gaming in the 80s, you may recall the hilarious marketing ploys Atari utilized in an attempt to compete with the NES. If you haven’t heard, then I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you that they didn’t succeed.

Hit the jump to check out this week’s retro commercial, which truly shows the respect, ingenuity, and humility of Atari.

Who wants a stupid Nintendo robot when you can have an Atari keyboard?

No-one. Exactly.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

After reviewing Amanita’s flawed masterpiece, Machinarium, not too long ago, I found myself hearkening back to my childhood days, where I constantly immersed myself in point-and-click adventures. Day of the Tentacle is still one of my favorite games of all time, and it will always hold a place as one of the integral titles that moulded me into the gamer that I am today.

The Neverhood may not have had such an immense impact on my younger years, but it certainly struck a chord visually and creatively. Rarely do I come across a point-and-click nowadays where I don’t compare it to Doug TenNapel’s 1996 classic.

If you have never experienced The Neverhood, read on to discover just how much you are missing out on.

The Neverhood could easily have ended up as a “Tales from the Bargain Bin” piece; and, honestly, it wouldn’t have looked out of place. TenNapel’s game may have received critical acclaim from several reviewers, but the fact of the matter is that it simply passed by most gamers. It’s an unfortunate reality, especially when you consider that TenNapel was the character designer for Earthworm Jim.

That said, The Neverhood has a rampant cult following, with countless websites built for the sole purpose of praising the genius of Doug TenNapel.  I won’t go so far as to douse his feet in perfume, but I am more than happy to commend the man for his exceptional work.

The Neverhood begins like most oddball adventure games: without any idea of where you are, who you are controlling, and what the hell you are supposed to be doing. Klaymen, the protagonist, is your vessel through the Neverhood world, and you must use this goofy, half-duck, half-man to figure just what is going on.

For those who have already experienced Machinarium, you may be perturbed to discover that there are no easy cheats to help you progress through the storyline. Where Machinarium restricted you to specific puzzles on each screen, The Neverhood gives you a fair amount of freedom, which could frustrate a lot of gamers who are simply looking to complete the game.

If this is you, then stop and listen. For myself, The Neverhood was never about finishing the game; in much the same way as Machinarium, it became more of an experience than anything else. Kooky music, exceptionally designed clay characters, and mind-bending puzzles to keep you interested are all simply decorations. The essence of the game is in its ability to transport you into its world. Even thirteen years after its release, The Neverhood still manages to capture my imagination, and encase me in a ridiculous world filled with incredible quests and creatures.

As you progress through the game, you will find yourself picking up small video cards. These cards are used as an informational source for Klaymen, as he refrains from speaking until the very end of the story. Your idiot cousin, Willie Trombone, is your guide throughout the tale, who relays facts about the world and gives hints as to what you should do next.

When I first started playing The Neverhood in primary school, it was with one of my best friends. I’d head over to his house on a Saturday morning, and we’d revel in Klaymen’s crazy, animated world. However, our main goal was always to try to find a way to kill our hero. This wasn’t out of any morbid curiosity; rather, it was in reaction to several infuriating features throughout the game.

There are some developers (*cough* Peter Molyneux *cough*) who, if given the freedom, would simply go too overboard with every facet of their games. That’s why the majority of commercially successful games are created by a diverse team of professionals.

The Neverhood’s production, however, was run in more of a dictatorial manner. Doug TenNapel had absolute power over everything that went into the final cut, and, unfortunately, the game suffers from it.

There are few things more tedious than travelling across vast worlds without the aid of a horse or vehicle. Morrowind countered this problem by implementing the Silt Strider – why walk, when you can ride? Mr. TenNapel, on the other hand, must have gleaned excessive pleasure from knowing that his gamers would be forced to walk across dozens of screens in order to collect a necessary piece of the puzzle.

Another frustration that the game could have done without is the long-winded cutscenes. While some are necessary, and even humorous throughout, several are there simply to be aggravating. Case in point: the fruit tree. I honestly sat next to my computer for several minutes while Klaymen let out the longest burp in the history of man – sounds funny, right? It isn’t.

Despite these childish flaws, The Neverhood succeeds at what it sets out to be: a thrilling, engaging, and ultimately challenging game that is sure to live on in your memory long after you have finished it.

With the recent release of Machinarium, and the episodic revival of Tales of Monkey Island, there has never been a better time to pick up this piece of point-and-click history. If nothing else, marvel at the sheer effort put into such an underrated game.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day here at Gamer Limit. We seek out the greatest moments of yesteryear simply for your pleasure, so be sure to check back each week to relive the glorious days. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

I have a confession to make: I am not the biggest fan of Super Mario RPG. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike the game by any stretch; it was beautiful, a neat concept for combat, and was an excellent game for a younger crowd. However, I don’t personally see the draw to it that other people do.

On the other hand, we have the Paper Mario series, which does a lot more to make an experience that’s truly memorable. It also has a unique aesthetic, while taking the combat of SMRPG to new heights. On top of that, the story and dialogue, while not epic, is at least fun, humorous, and entertaining – even if you’re an adult.

The premise is typical: as usual, Bowser kidnaps Princess Peach. However, this time he has stolen an artifact called the Star Rod, which makes him invincible. Thus, Mario has to go find the seven star spirits, who, with their powers together can help Mario fight against the power of the Star Rod and save the princess.

The first thing you’ll notice about Paper Mario is the graphical style. It’s done entirely in 3D, however, the character models are paper thin, with the flat sides displaying 2D drawings on them. The result is that all the characters look like paper cut-outs.

It works out really well because the first consoles to do full 3D games – Nintendo 64 included – were not capable of making very attractive character models in 3D. 2D sprites (or rather, the guise of 2D sprites) juxtaposed on 3D environments created many of the most visually breathtaking games of that era.

Obviously, the paper graphics look a little funny, and it’s even hammed up a little bit (try staying at an inn and see how Mario hops into bed). This sets the tone for the entire game, which sort of pokes fun at itself and generally doesn’t take itself too seriously. This is the main reason why Paper Mario is easier for me to enjoy as I grow older than Super Mario RPG, which had a story that was hardly more remarkable, yet at the same time regarded itself with such importance.

Paper Mario‘s gameplay is equally excellent, and I certainly wish more developers would follow its lead. You’ll send Mario through 3D environments with enemies littered throughout. You can jump and swing a hammer on the field to cross gaps or break obstructions, but you can also use them to hit enemies that approach you. Making any contact with them starts a battle; if you hit them, you get the first strike, and if they hit you, they will get the first strike.

At a glance, combat seems pretty threadbare; there are experience points and levels, but hardly any stats whatsoever: HP, MP (called Flower Points, of FP), and Badge Points (BP). In fact, when you level up, you can only increase one of your three stats, and that’s it.

Badges are the only type of equipment in the game, and they allow you to raise attack, defense, and grant special attacks, which use FP. Any badge you find requires a certain number of BP to be equipped, and you can equip as many badges as your max BP allows. Attacks at the start of the game deal an underwhelming 1 point of damage, and the only way to increase your damage is to find Badges or special key items that increase the strength of Mario’s Jump and Hammer attacks.

Lastly, Mario can take one companion into battle. Mario’s friends don’t have any stats, and are not usually targeted in combat. They can be incapacitated for a few turns if they’re hit, but it’s a rare occurrence. Mario’s friends level up by finding special power-up blocks, which increase their damage, in addition to giving them a new ability.

Though the combat sounds plain, it’s successful because it forces you to be strategic. Each different type of attack has a different little mini-game that allows you to deal extra damage with it. For example, if you perform a jump attack with Mario, you can press ‘A’ at a certain time to make him do a second jump, doubling the damage.

There are different minigames for almost every attack that Mario and his companions have. Learning to perform these skillfully is key, since they tend to make a significant difference to the overall damage you inflict in combat. Similarly, you are able to press a button at a certain time to reduce damage from enemy’s attacks, which is equally important, as HP is pretty scarce for a while.

Your companions have different types of attacks, and they shine at different times. Certain enemies will actually harm you for attempting certain attacks. For example, you can’t use Goombario (who only has jump attacks), against an enemy with spikes on their head. Enemies who are on fire need to be attacked with long-range moves, and enemies who carry their weapons in front can’t be approached from the ground. These are all things to consider while battling.

Since the leveling system only allows you to level up one of three attributes, you’re forced to decide what you value in a character. Choosing more HP will allow you to take more hits, but your attack options will be limited. More FP will allow more special attacks, but you’ll die very quickly. Choosing more BP will give you many offensive and defensive options, but your companions will be lacking.

Perhaps the way I talk about the game sounds kind of like an instruction manual, but think about all these things I’ve mentioned; how many RPGs have combat that really forces you to be aware of what’s happening at all times, instead of just mashing the attack button? Sure, you could say that SMRPG did that to an extent, but the rewards for doing the timed hits and timed blocks were inconsequential, and you couldn’t even perform a timed hit/block with or against certain attacks.

How many RPGs have you played with a leveling system that forces you to think hard about how you want to build your character? Sure, there are games that allow you to customize your character in specific ways as you level up. In those games, however, you’re still leveling up other stats simultaneously, and a few games like that even allow you to redistribute the points you spend if you dislike your current build. Paper Mario forces you to constantly think about what you need, because if you make a rash decision, it could be quite a while before you level up again.

This is the brilliance of Paper Mario‘s gameplay. It’s fast, engaging, varied, and rewards you for making smart decisions – something that is ironically missing from most games in the RPG genre. It wouldn’t be until the second Paper Mario game that the humorous element of the game would be in full swing, but the entire package is more than enough to entertain someone for its relatively short length (about 20 hours).

The Sony Playstation had Final Fantasy 7, and the Sega Saturn had Panzer Dragoon Saga. Both were excellent examples of storytelling in the genre, and were innovative in the gameplay department – particularly PDS. What did the Nintendo 64 have? It had Paper Mario: a fine example of what you can do with the RPG genre if you throw out all the tiresome tropes and try to do something original for a change. It’s easily the Nintendo 64′s most brilliant RPG, and one of the most brilliant RPGs of its console generation. Not to mention, it was a strong start for an excellent RPG series.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

After last week’s reminder of that ghastly creation known only as the Sega Activator, we here at Gamer Limit feel that it is only fair to offer you a more elegant advertisement this week.

Hit the jump, and step back in time with one of the original (and apparently banned) TV spots for The Legend of Zelda.

And who said gamers weren’t cool?

Now, don’t tell us that those weren’t the best thirty seconds you’ve spent all day. An all-singing, all-dancing Zelda commercial starring a young Colonel Sanders? Time well spent, we’d say.

[Every Thursday is Retro Day at Gamer Limit, so kick back and enjoy the classics. Feel free to check out our full schedule right here!]

YOU ARE THE CONTROLLER!

Microsoft’s upcoming Project Natal isn’t the first product to offer the capability of using your entire body as the game controller.  Believe it or not, Sega attempted this way back in the Genesis/Mega Drive days… with the Sega Activator.

The Activator was an octagonal ring that assembled on the floor around your body, and shot lasers straight up towards the ceiling.  Break the beam, and your onscreen character would react accordingly.  Punch high, and your character would punch high.  Kick, and your character would kick.

Of course, it was only compatible with a handful of games, barely worked the way it claimed to, and carried an $80 price tag.  It was an epic failure.  Will history repeat itself when Natal hits the market, or have we come a long way, baby?

Check out this 90s-tastic “training video” to see what it was all about, and also to realize that you would never, ever buy one of these things.