The Game: I- I just said... well whatever. It's the first three Spyro Games for the PS1. That's right, the full trifecta of scaly-purple-firey-platforming-3D-ohmygodwhywon'tHunterstopmakingnoisesoutofhisstupid punchableface-goodness.
Why I never finished: Through my youth, I was never a playstation guy. For tiny Bill it was nintendo and PC, and hours of arguing about graphics and games while trying to give off an impression that I had any clue what I was talking about. Dani, however, was a playstation gal (I know, a mixed marriage! Shock horror!) and so when we wed I received a full dowry of pixelated classics (and NHL '98 for some reason...).
A truly unforgettable classic. |
Getting Through It: I really wasn't sure that I would like this game; as I was starting it up I was mentally preparing myself to tactfully explain my displeasure to my wife: "Dani, your childhood is just plain wrong, I don't know how you ever managed to smile without making a large red bird carry an anthropomorphised bear up a hill..." seemed a little harsh. But, to my slight surprise and great relief, I actually really loved it!
There were some definite noticeable differences between this and the 3D platformers I was used to, with the most interesting one being the way the levels were designed. That is, in Spyro you played on a doughnut, but in Mario 64, Donkey Kong and Banjo Kazooie, you play on a pizza.
Pictured: Level Design... maybe I could have made this clearer... |
Of course, Spyro is still a platformer, so there was the inevitable rage of jumping. My dog spent more time cowering under the table than ever as I screamed in frustration at the TV because fuckyouImadethatjumpIdidn'tHITTHELEDGEYOUBASTAR!##UINKJAIUASBFKJADSFN.
This was not made any easier by the jerkiness of the controls. In the first game I never felt like I enough control over Spyro's movements, and so things that should have been easy were infuriatingly difficult. I can't even count the times I slowly spun in circles trying to set fire to a bunny so it would release its sweet sweet butterly to heal me (this game is weird) but missing every time. In the second game the controls felt a lot smoother. By the third game, I had absolutely no problems, and I could smoothly fly around until I hit a wall after failing to jump while Dani laughed visciously in my face.
The other big thing the second game introduced was a little treasure compass. By pressing the R and L buttons you can force your dragonfly companion to point his tiny face at the nearest gem to collect. This was wonderful, and let me reasonably do something I never have the patience to do: get 100% completion. I managed a 100% in the third game too, but the first one, with its poop-faced controls and lack of dragonflycompass, I just ran through and got to the end as quickly as possible.
Overall, the gameplay was simple, but fun. But the big thing that set this game apart for me, in terms of the platformers of that era, is the characters. One of the big things that let this happen is the voice acting. Having a N64, I'm not used to the idea that platformers are allowed to have voices, but Spyro (with its cool-guy PS1 technology) had voices galore! I grew to really love some of the characters, and some were just perfectly hate-able, just the worst creatures on the planet, evil people who exist solely to rub your failure in your face and mock you with their stupid shorts and dumb skateboard...
The face of evil. |