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Review: Klonoa (Wii, 2009)


Klonoa, an enhanced port of an old Playstation game, is a bit of a let down. Everything is in place for it to be a sublime experience. The graphics are really good for the generation(s) behind Wii, it’s a 2.5D platformer (I’m a huge fan), it controls well, the music isn’t bad.

It’s also really short. Like, really short. Download-only title off the eShop short. Also, for a good 90% of the game, it’s very easy.

I’m a little sad to say that I was expecting to really enjoy the experience, to be in a state of nerdy bliss after having fond memories of the original for a decade plus. I rented it when I was about 12 years old, smack dab in the middle of my more active gaming years. It surprised me. It was simple, but lovely. A fun 2D romp when we were only offered usually bland, wide open spaces and usually bad camera angles (something that we put up with quite well, if only because we had to). It felt obscure, like it shouldn’t have been released in America, and that alone gave it an air of mystique.

At the time, Super Mario 64 was groundbreaking in many ways, and it changed things heavily for quite awhile, but none more pointedly than the platformer genre. Moving left and right on one axis no longer seemed good enough. It felt old hat and outdated.

As implied earlier, much of those 3D games — ones I still cherish to this very day — were technically poorly executed experiences in comparison. Klonoa and its ilk were refreshing by default, because no matter how little you could explore the surrounding environments — and they were beautiful at the time, of course — you never had to contend with a pesky camera and obtuse control configurations. It was left, right, up, and down. The kind of stuff developers had down pat after years and years of experience. The polygonal environments surrounding your character were simply an amusing extra.

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Klonoa’s 2D paths wind around trees, mountain sides, interiors of caverns. The camera moves along gently, sometimes employing cool angles to show off the path around and ahead. The show off-y camera might have been amazing back then — and as someone who was there, I can tell you it most likely was — but it’s fairly pedestrian now.

One thing Klonoa still does, of course, is flawlessly present a game that is two dimensional in a 3D world, even if it no longer feels as interesting as it once did.

The titular character is one that is hard to describe. He comes from the mascot platformer crazed 90s, and it shows. He’s a bunny-like thing, I guess, that wakes up one day and is destined to save the world. Very standard stuff. Hewpoe is your sidekick, a little floating blue ball of happiness (…), instructing you to save the world from some dude named Ghadius, who is of course the keeper of nightmares or something. Everyone rejects him and his darn nightmares, and he’s mad, blah blah, let’s save the world, blah blah.

In game, apart from typical platformer tropes, Klonoa can use Hewpoe as a “wind bullet.” This lets him inject a giant blast of wind into cutesy, seemingly harmless animals (“enemies”), inflating them into giant animal balls. These giant, always rotating animal balls can be thrown at other innocent animals for an explosion of cute, or used to simply jump higher (of course). It’s a simple idea, but hey, it’s fun.

There are light puzzles here and there, mostly involving keys (okay, the door can open now!). Some of the later levels get particularly interesting, as paths wind around other paths. On occasion, you’ll catch a glimpse at another part of the level you won’t be able to get to until later, or one you’ve already been to before. It’s simple but effective enough.

Boss battles are, of course, insultingly easy. Nothing worse than Mario, though. All of them revolve around one simple idea: throwing inflated animals at the boss. Four or so hits later, the end! Cue dramatic cut scene!

Speaking of cut scenes, oh my gawd they are frequent and SUPER boring. This is made worse by the fact that the Balloon font scrolls by at the slowest possible rate, and there is no way to speed it up. It practically screams “THIS IS FOR YOUNGER PLAYERS,” which makes me feel just great since I’m almost 30. The only way to remedy this is by unfortunately skipping entire portions of a cut scene. If I were not reviewing the game, I’d have skipped them every chance I had, not one care in the world.

While it’s really boring, typical stuff, boy does it ever get dramatic. Spoiler alert until the next bold text that says “SPOILER ALERT OVER!!!!!” Klonoa’s grandfather, one that is line with every other grandfather in every other game released in the 90s (slow, earnest, wise, stupid, zzz), dies halfway through. Ghadius’s accomplice Joker kills him in a hilariously over the top explosion, because, uh, these darn kids are getting in the way (or whatever). Klonoa reacts to the death by screaming bloody murder as the camera pans upwards towards the sky. Fade out. Fade in, Klonoa has tears in his eyes as he mutters something about revenge. Huh.

Nothing about this is original or, uh, good — but it carries slight emotional heft I can’t ignore. It has nothing to do with the plot itself (which is the epitome of cliche) and everything to do with how dramatically it is presented. This is a huge stretch, but it reminded me of that scene in Final Fantasy VII. Nowhere near the level of that game’s intensity — I was happy about seeing Grandfart exploding, not so much Aeris being stabbed — but you can tell that the developers were working overtime to garner some emotion out of its players, particularly its older ones.

From this point onwards, Klonoa’s story takes a fairly dark turn, which when juxtaposed alongside the simplistic gameplay makes for an interesting experience. Again, nothing at all original happens, whatsoever. Klonoa seeks revenge after Grandfart dies, of course, and gets all the way to the stars (well, yeah) at one point near the end of the game. He does so in a fairly typical, mid 90s video game way — “To the Temple of the Sun!” one character shouts, if I recall correctly — but it feels organic enough and slightly more interesting now because of how dramatically it’s presented. It feels epic, even if only a little bit.

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Which brings us to the most downbeat ending to a mascot platformer of all fucking time: Klonoa is told, after saving this land and all that crap (but not having, I should note, magically resurrected his dead Grandpoop), that everything is a lie. A variation on the lazy “it was all a dream,” the whole world the game took place in is said to be not real in the most dramatic way possible, right before Klonoa gets sucked out of the sky forever, desperately clinging onto his BFF Hewpoe before letting go. (“Titanic.”) And then the credits roll as somber music plays. I sat there stunned. It ended. Hewpoe (who turns out to be a Teletubbie, by the way!!!!) lied to him the whole time about being total BFFs forever and ever. How dare he!!!



Okay. Very generic stuff, right? Yet, it’s somehow memorable. Everything about it lingers in my memory, even if it’s TOTALLY about a fluffy bunny thing with giant ears being told he has to wake up or whatever. SPOILER ALERT OVER!!!!

After the end game, assuming you’ve easily gathered all collectables (every level has six or so pieces to collect), you are rewarded with an extra level, which seems challenging enough, and “reverse mode,” which is super quaint until you notice little portals into bonus rooms of hell. I have yet to complete a single one, and I don’t imagine I’ll being doing it any time soon. They are NES hard. I’m not the most precise Klonoa player on the planet, I know — a simple search on Youtube proves as much. For some, these may be not so bad, but they are, for me, about 100 times more difficult than anything else in the main game.

I feel like I’ve dumped more on Klonoa than praised it, which unfortunately accurately reflects how I feel in the end, but I had a pleasant enough experience the whole way through. It never bored me outside of the early cut scenes, and it was always lovely to look at and easy to get into.

For those in love with old school 2D platformers, you should probably pick it up. The extra hard stuff after the game is over will give those who need to be frustrated a lovely bouquet of frustration. Otherwise, it’s pleasant fluff, short as hell, wrapped in an intriguingly emotional shell.

+ Game is decent fun.
+ Graphics are incredible for the Wii, especially in 2009. Looks great on HD sets.
+ The story finally gets slightly interesting, if only in presentation.
+ Controls perfectly.

– Five hours or less.
– No challenge for most of the main game.
– T e x t   s c r o l l s   b y   t o o   s l o w .
– Level design for most of the game is slightly unmemorable.


I’ll be playing through the two Klonoa games released for the GBA next. I enjoyed them a lot more than this one, at least back then. I’m excited.


Playing through Klonoa.

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Hi! On a beautiful trip to a couple of video game stores in Pittsburgh, I happened to score two used Wii games — neither of which are actually, y’know, rare or anything — Klonoa, released in 2009, and de Blob 2, the MAYBE (I have yet to play it) inventive platformer that pretty much tanked developer Blue Tongue. I liked the first one, so I’m sure I’ll like this one, too.

(Insert three sentences in which I explain that I had already owned Klonoa back when it was released but traded it in because I’m a total buttface.)

Klonoa is a special series for me. It or Pandemonium kickstarted my whole love affair for the 2.5D platformer, a bygone relic of the late 90s, and I tend to say Klonoa to strangers (this subject always comes up so naturally!!!) because no one likes Pandemonium, at all. (I enjoy it, shhh.) I was maybe twelve or so when I rented the original game for the PSX, so it holds some nostalgic memories of me being entranced by its very Japanese gameplay. It is a slow-paced, beautiful platformer, and my goard look at all of the things you can walk around and in and through!! Actually, as is obvious, it’s hard to explain what really makes Klonoa work the way it does for me… it just does, and I hope to be able to get there someday.

Which means, pretty much, I’m going to dedicate the next month or so to all of the Klonoa games — including the PS2 sequel that I might have played a minute or two of at best. Even on this rinky dink site that probably accrues about 10 hits per month, Klonoa deserves some exposure, because it’s so little loved and unheralded and that makes me kinda sad.

I have a cat.

Since the last post before the last post, I got a cat. It’s been a bit insane. He and the other cats in this house do not get along. He mostly resides in my bedroom, occasionally going out for strolls out on the town (the rest of the house) whenever the coast is clear(er than usual). He does this:


A lot of cats do this. This is not unusual. In fact, this is fairly typical. But, I have a cat. I think he’s great, even if he is an American Short Hair and the only really distinguishable thing about him is his constant, terrifying Charles Manson eyes and his secret, eternal source of insane energy. So, there you go.

The “I’m going to sit in front of the TV now, okay” thing happens all the time. If I’m not spending one second paying attention to him, he gets restless. He wants to know I know he’s there. So he plops his butt in front of the TV, usually while I’m in the middle of some super difficult section of something or other. Of course, in the picture, he’s just sitting in front of Nintendo Land, a game that is hardly “super difficult.”

But, yeah. I love cats. His name is Malkmus. I wonder if I can tie him into the site somehow. Four Malkmuses out of five?

(Oh, and for the record — I liked Nintendo Land. It’s a good launch title, one of my favorites, probably. Shelf life is fairly minimal, though, unless you have some friends. That game would totally get four out of five Malkmuses.)


I haven’t written for this site in a long, long time. But I’ve been writing.

It’s not a huge secret that my dream thing, whatever you’d like to call it — goal, job — is to write about video games. I could write about a lot of other things, too, but video games are something that I’m particularly enamored with. Something that’s been pervasive throughout my entire life. It’s just always there, looming in the background. At work, at a friend’s house. Nine times out of ten, I’d probably rather be playing a video game or talking/writing about a video game.

Like I’ve said, I’ve been writing. And 2013 is the year in which I finally hoist myself off my increasingly fat ass and get myself into college. The 20s were definitely a strange time for me. They’re not over, but they’re almost over — I turn 28 in six months. Nothing has really changed in my life since I turned 18, outside of minor personal things like coming out to people and whatnot. In general, I’ve always been this sort of low key, sort of over the top obnoxious if you really know me kind of guy, always thinking about video games.

I wonder where life could take me if I let it do so. Would I ever design a video game? Or help design one? What if I worked for Nintendo, or EA, or some other huge company doing something not exactly related to writing or making a video game but involved in the industry?

Honestly, nothing would please me more in my life than to just be simply involved. My main thing is writing, which isn’t obviously the best at the moment — it’s shaggy, longwinded, a bit lazily thought out. Sometimes my writing doesn’t exactly cohere into anything. It’s just a mess.

I’m hoping to sort all of that out. And while I prepare and eventually attend an actual fucking college, I might as well use this place as a respite for all of my nerdy thoughts that are always there, always looming, large and unavoidable, at work or at a friend’s house.

Here’s a brief collection of some writing I’ve done while away, all of it without proper context:

On Yoshi’s Island DS


Further taking the game away from greatness is its presentation, the one thing the original game really excelled at. The music is absolutely forgettable. It was more memorable in Yoshi’s Touch & Go, for chrissakes. It’s just there. Some fake flute, some fake steel drums. Ambient noise that doesn’t build towards anything. Just there.

The graphics, while technically better, are completely scrubbed of the original’s charm — thus, worse. There are no thick crayon lines, hastily colored in hills, Crayola night skies. It no longer looks as though a talented seven year old had his or her way with a video game. Instead it exists as a polished, cute platformer. No sense of risk involved in its creation. It is completely safe, banal. Boring looking.

Collectively, this coheres into an effort that feels like it is straining to be something better than it actually is, and playing it in 2006 began to feel like a chore. “Oh, I see what they’re trying to do here” was a common thought, not “wow, this is incredible.”

If you disconnect the dots, though — or even better, not play the damned thing for six plus years — and look at Yoshi’s Island DS as a standalone product, its own thing — the game is really not that bad. It only fails in comparison.

On the original Super Mario Kart


The most amazing thing this game has over its siblings, probably, is the very distinct lack of a blue shell. Doesn’t that make you grin, like, instantly? Or is it only me? Why is it always only me creepily grinning and no one else?

From something titled “Dr. Mario is For Like, Rocket Scientists”


Pretty sure Dr. Mario is for like, rocket scientists. It is a game that has been throughly unconquered by me thus far in my young adult life. This is not uncommon for anyone into games — some genres and some games are just not for them.

I want Dr. Mario to be for me, though. Everything about it — from its Mario with a degree killing viruses “story” to the catchy/evil sounding music to the basic idea of a Nintendo developed puzzler — is my cup of tea. I love puzzle games. I love Tetris, Bust-a-Move, Panel de Pon, Picross, Puyo Puyo, Yoshi’s Cookie. I love all of them.

And in the first three out of 20+ levels, I love Dr. Mario, too. But it gets tricky for me about level 5, and the default level is 10. What is wrong with me?

On its surface, Dr. Mario looks like a simpler Tetris, rushed to stores during the great puzzle boom of the early 90s when everyone and their mom loved the genre. I still have fond memories of my white trash neighbor friend’s mom, huddled over her SNES, playing Toad’s Woods. I remember thinking “Wow, she’s cool” and “Wow, this is kind of sad” at the same time, cool because it was a grown up lady playing SNES, and sad because it was in a darkened room that resembled a basement dweller’s paradise.

Dr. Mario looks like a simple copycat ala Yoshi. Ala horrible, boring, slow, dull Yoshi. But it isn’t dull at all, nor is it simple. Horrible? Well, no, not that either. Boring? No, no, it’s not that either. Okay, it’s nothing like Yoshi.

You have to simply eliminate the viruses that are inexplicably contained in a giant bottle by putting three similarly colored pills on top of them. In the first few levels, this is absolutely fine and dandy. But by level five, no longer are there two or four or seven viruses — there are like, 20. And then 30. And then 50. And then 70.


See that picture above? A virus is only the size of one half a pill, and pills usually come in two colors. The remaining color is left falling downwards onto a new virus, usually (if you’re me) a color that doesn’t match with the virus it is now touching. Now, to eliminate that virus, you have to eliminate those leftover half pills with similar colors, four for each color.

And if you’re me, you will have leftover pill halves everywhere in the playing field, on top of totally mismatched viruses, on top of three different other colors, on top of about 50 different viruses that will probably never ever be cured. Just another game of Dr. Mario.

Okay, done copying and pasting and farting. There is a whole slew of stupid things I’ve written in the past year or so, but they are just that: stupid. And I’m over caffeinated, and suddenly am losing interest in showing you stuff you have no interest in reading (or am I wrong?? Tell me I’m wrong!!).

SO. This is going to be a more journal-like experience, probably. Enjoy, maybe!!

Whatever Review: Mighty Switch Force

Hi. It’s been awhile. Sorry.

A deluge of games hit my face since the beginning of November. Too many, almost. New Zelda, new Mario, new Mario Kart, 10 FREE GBA Ambassador games, Pushmo, VVVVVV, Twinbee (a bit late to this one), etc etc. I have been lost in gaming nerd Nirvana or whatever for almost two months. Adrift in Zelda’s intricate albeit linear environments, mostly.

But, I am back. Happy 2012, you two readers you.

Mighty Switch Force is made by Wayforward, a dev that Ninty nerds love love love. I have never hopped aboard this bandwagon — I found previous Mighty Flip Champs to be a fun albeit mild take on puzzle platforming, while their other titles were not played by me. Mighty Switch Force inspires the same feelings I got from Flip Champs: I’m having some fun, everything looks pretty nice, but… “eh.”

The biggest drawback to Mighty Switch Force is its brevity. Even at rather cheap price of $6 (in comparison to most eShop games), it’s just too short. 16 levels short to be exact, most of them over within 5 minutes. The gameplay resembles a miniature collectathon, with your cop character nabbing six escaped prison inmates and then finding the exit. The “Switch” part of the title refers to blocks that you have to basically turn off and on to get through the levels.

There are charming sprites everywhere, decently well drawn but in a very specific style that doesn’t totally click with me. The 3D adds a fun sense of depth that is entirely inessential to gameplay, with characters popping out of the screen and various layers of background pushed to the back, ala 3D Classics: Kirby’s Adventure (among others). I really enjoy it, although I can understand why it is considered pointless by others.

For the hour or so it takes to get through the game, it is an enjoyable time. I even initially recommended it to others. But I’ve lived with the game for a couple of weeks, and it doesn’t thrill me anymore after completing everything. You have the option of trying to beat levels as quickly as possible (“par times”), so for score attack junkies it could be worthwhile.

+ Nice, detailed sprite work, even if I’m not a huge fan of the style.
+ Level design is consistently engaging.
+ Lack of hand holding is refreshing.
+ Decent fun.

– Short.
– Replay value isn’t quite high.
– Sound effects (ie voice overs) can be annoying.
– Puzzles all revolve around the same two or three concepts.

*** / *****

Review: Bonk’s Adventure

Bonk’s Adventure is about a caveman with rabies.

Every time he dies, he foams intensely at the mouth.

It comes from a time when mascot platformers were required to make both companies and customers happy, and also from a time when games were rather difficult. Things change; the genre of choice is now FPS for everyone (but me, although I am interested), and games get easier by the day.

Playing this title is a welcome return to the days of my youth. Hours spent in front the television on lazy, sunlit Saturday mornings, usually a Genesis or NES controller in hand. Moments of awe whenever I found a new secret area. The inexplicable feeling of genuine happiness upon stumbling on a new secret in an old school platformer still resides in my bones, for I felt it many a time in Bonk’s short Adventure.

Gameplay involves slowly running left to right, and sometimes right to left. Instead of usual platform tropes, you use your only move — head-butting, naturally… you are a caveman (with rabies) — to one up the plethora of enemies you will encounter. Level design starts off feeling uncreative, but then takes interesting left turns; at what appears to be a dead end, you must head-butt the head of a giant dinosaur to have him eat you. The next level takes place inside said dinosaur’s body. Neat!

Whenever you “bonk” any enemy with your head, the bad guy will fly into the air and usually dispense something along the lines of uncooked meat or fruit. Apparently, those two are somehow interchangeable.

Digesting two pieces of uncooked meat makes Bonk go from sickly, yours truly pale to one really red dude. I think this might have something to do with the dangers of consuming E. Coli. This transformation also involves him becoming a stark raving lunatic (mad cow disease?) and grants him the ability to destroy everything in his path, albeit for only a moment. Or, more and less accurately, he hit a block with his head and got the invincible star power up. Er, never mind.

The entire experience is actually less reminiscent of Mario and more of Alex Kidd or Decap Attack, early Sega platformers that have a very specific feel and tone. Not the classic experience associated with Ninty developed bliss, but maybe something more “goofy.” It‘s a game that doesn’t have the balls to take itself seriously, nor should it ever have to.

As previously hinted, the difficulty of this simple platformer is hilariously high. The enemies are everywhere. Some require head-butting from below and some from above, and you will die a lot. A thankful concession on part of the developers is of unlimited continues. No matter how many times you die, and no matter how many Game Overs you accumulate during its short playtime, you will still beat the game if you persevere and have enough patience for an afternoon.

Above all else, though, it still is a rather simple platformer among many from its era.

This is an experience that will ultimately be more compelling to those who have already played it or similar platformers in the early ‘90s. If you have, and want your nostalgic bone creepily tickled, this is a pretty great way to do it.

+ Its inherent challenge and/or frustration at least makes it more interesting than the million cookie cutter platformers littered across 8 and 16 bit’s history
+ Graphics are pleasing and decent enough
+ Some interesting level design
+ Great fun for nostalgic junkies

– The controls are not perfect
– It’s really short
– Sometimes too many enemies to really handle
– A little too simple
– Standard non-”story”


Review: Cruis’n USA

Sometimes yours truly will sporadically take notes as he plays a video game set for review.

Here are some notes from yesterday while trekking through Cruis’n USA, an arcade racer developed by Midway in 1996:

“The general grime seen and felt while playing suggests the gulf between 1996 and the late 80s was not as big as it should have been.”

In regards to the music: “Instant thoughts of stripper clubs in the early 90s. My brain imagines big haired women in their ugly outfits doing really awful dances, while a 300 lb dude in the back grunts and moans into his microphone to a backing band. Lyrics include: ‘Yeah, woah-oh. Woah, woah, woah, woah-oh-oh, oh.’”

A thrilling moment: “I am driving in the ‘Redwood Forest,’ and I literally just struck down a giant, impossibly huge redwood tree by grazing it with the side of my automobile.”

A startling discovery: “‘Indiana’ is the same exact track as ‘Iowa.’ Hmm.”

Noting the graphics: “I think I just saw a waterfall that did not move.”

And, finally: “I just ran into the White House.”

As described earlier, it is an arcade racer, somehow published by Nintendo for their 64-bit console. It has “cool” cars, and they all like, move down roads, man. Little “obstacles” like barrels and very tiny signs fly into the air upon impact of your car, to no detriment of either your vehicle or the environment around them. The barrels simply vanish, probably en route to mid 90s polygon heaven.

At every finish line, a bunch of really ugly .gif-like people doing a three frames a second animation await you, all standing in harm’s way because you did like, an awesome job, man. Your car instantly stops the moment you’re about to hit them as if someone pressed pause on your RCA VCR. This is when a busty woman from a bad hair metal video thrusts her breasts into a trophy I’m assuming is now yours.

The main single player “campaign” is of a 20+ minute ride through the United States. Roads seem to grow more windy and treacherous from the west to the east as you go along, as if road planners or whatever suddenly got more ambitious and/or evil. Sometimes while driving through its various locales a voiceover girl will intone something casually descriptive, like: “Check it out, San Francisco,” or “So this is the Grand Canyon.”

“Wow, Mount Rushmore.”

The white hot action features a little radar on the right side of the screen, showing oncoming cars in gray and opponents in red. It is so tiny that it is completely pointless, as other cars will fly into yours way faster than you would ever expect. Everyone drives in every lane in this game — the left one, the right one, backwards, forwards. If this were real life, we would all be dead ten seconds after starting up our cars.

Or perhaps not! Driving head-on into oncoming traffic at 90 MPH simply makes your car do a cute, ballerina-like spin on the road before robotically re-aligning itself into a perfectly straight line. Sometimes your car does whip-like flips, too, and throughout all of this your 1994 Pontiac Grand Prix looks just fabulous with nary a dent or scratch in sight. I guess if this were real life, it would like, totally rule, man.

There is a (local, duh) leader board called “Hot Times,” where you put your three lettered initials on a license plate and watch it cheesily twirl up a wall before being nailed in with what sounds like a powered screwdriver. Instead of initials, I tend to prefer things like “ASS.”

For challenge, there is an always-there timer, counting down the seconds to your inevitable doom should you not reach the next checkpoint. This is a feature in nearly all arcade racers, at least the ones from the 90s and (especially) the 80s. Unfortunately, or fortunately for five year olds, you will most likely never feel burdened by this, thus no challenge. The game provides copious amounts of time for you to drive down bland roads.

The actual gameplay is reminiscent of many a time had in the corner of the local movie theater after spending $11 to see something probably mediocre — a dusty Midway developed arcade racer beckons you, usually with “Rush” somewhere in the title. It plays the same but now in your home, and with all the time in the world becomes something rather tedious very quickly. It also plays exactly like Rad Racer from the NES, which at least had the audacity to feature good music.

The worst part about all of this, though, is that it can actually be moderately entertaining. It may be the video game equivalent of a bad 80s music video, but a part of me really enjoys that. It takes bland but serviceable gameplay and outfits it in a smelly early 90s exterior. Everything is hilarious, everything. The way your car moves. The awful gif people standing everywhere. The barren roads. How “Indiana” and “Iowa” are the same exact tracks. The music. The muffled sound effects. The sexist nature of how every female is either bikini clad or had been through obvious plastic surgery. It is all wonderful in its awfulness, like a good bad movie. And although this may not quite be the “Troll 2” of video games, it comes awfully close. Notice the word “awful” in the past two sentences.

+ Uhm, it is very funny.

– The gameplay.
– The soundtrack. Jet Moto but a lot worse.
– The tracks either look all the same or are the same.
– The presentation.
– The sound effects.
– Everything.