Longtime SVGL readers might remember that this time last year, I got my ass grandly humbled by the Rondo of Blood remake on PSP. After listlessly twitching my way through some of the DS Castlevania games, I picked up Dracula X Chronicles and was inappropriately stunned to find out how much I sucked when reintroduced to the brutal difficulty level.
The experiment led to my long-overdue revelation that we're damn spoiled by games today. Over the years the clarion call's been game design that encourages instead of penalizes, that gives players the tools to succeed and to keep themselves from falling into the same platform gap a billion times. Lovingly petted by the hand of accessibility, we've all gone feeble.
I was reacquainted with this principle last night when I played Capcom's positively fucking stellar Mega Man 9 on Wii Ware last night. It's, as was intended, so retro that if I hadn't known it was new I might not have believed it, right down to the occasional white static scratches you used to get from a dusty NES cartridge (at least I think those were deliberate -- possibly my TV really sucks).
Speaking of sucks, I predictably suck at Mega Man 9. I haven't been able to beat one boss. Part of this is probably that it's difficult, and part of it is that I've gone soft in my old age. But like a record needle slipping into a groove, it's reacquainted me with old reflexes -- no matter how punishing it is to play, I find the challenge, the controller-flinging frustration, deliciously nostalgic. Addictive, even.
I'm part of a blog community that loves to masticate the narratives of modern titles, to analyze things like the space and to respond with appropriate pathos when AI is especially lifelike. But spending a fruitless hour or so last night nibbling away at MM9 engendered a hard-bitten sense of forgotten pride -- what's it all worth if I can't do this kind of thing anymore?
Like it was with Rondo, it's a matter of pride. I did beat Dracula X eventually (although, failing to rescue very many girls, I think I got a bad ending), so I figure with persistent memorization of the necessary choreography, I can beat Mega Man 9 too.
I think. We'll see.
Anyway, I'd really like to see if we blog folk who invent new manifestos for game journalism weekly, who compare the character journeys in Japanese RPGs to great literature and who liken platform heroes to the champions of Greek mythology, can still do the pew-pew-pew. Who's with me?
And speaking of Castlevania, the other day I was IMed at random by a young kid who'd never heard of Symphony of the Night. I showed him YouTube videos; he was unimpressed. Jeez, I felt old! If I can beat Mega Man 9, can I... defeat the advancing spectre of aging?
[Note: Header pic is the exact part I keep dying at. There's one of those little clamshell dudes waiting on the other side of these disappearing bricks -- you can just see the edge of him in the pic -- and he shoots me onto the spikes every time I land on his side.]
