Reviews by Ashley Winchester

Buried in the past and minds of those aware of its existence, Star Gladiator was Capcom's first foray into the realm of the three-dimensional fighting. Having a history as wild as its characters, many speculate the game was developed with the intention of being a Star Wars game. An earlier attempt at what would come to life in LucasArts' Masters of Teras Kasi? Perhaps, but true or not, the thoughts of worlds and galaxies beyond the earth would remain ingrained and became a clever, covert homage to its perceived source material. Unfortunately, as solid as the game ended up being, it would never overcome it's lack of marketing or the fact that Namco would release it own weapons-based fighter, Soul Edge, in the following year. So without further ado, let's look at what makes Star Gladiator tick.

Star Gladiator takes place in the distant future where mankind has had contact with life beyond our own solar system. While most of the contact has been of a peaceful nature, there have been conflicts that force Earth to seek a way to balance the power. They settle on the creation of a plasma weapon, a weapon that derives its power from the wielder's mind. The brilliant Dr. Edward Bilstein is placed at the helm of the project due to his family's previous research into the subject, but he is eventually tried and imprisoned for using human bodies in the creation of the weapon. Four years after his incarceration in the prison orbiting the planet Zeta, Bilstein escapes his confinement (note to self: don't give inmates power tools - ends badly) and leaves a trail of destruction as he heads towards Earth with some of his fellow cons. The Federation Army, pretty much out of ideas, enacts a plan to scour the globe looking for fighters with the abilities needed to use the very weapons Bilstein created against him, and so starts project Star Gladiator.

Okay, so it's not the most imaginative story, but you get the idea. It's a little more creative than the whole "traveling warrior seeks out strong opponents to get stronger" thing has become so we'll take it; I don't really want to stoop to that whole "no one plays fighting games for the story" thing if I can help it. Regardless, after watching the bright and shiny opening FMV we reach the title screen where the thunderous announcement that we're playing "STAR GLADIATOR!" awaits us. This screen is so cheesy it's just great. Hell, I listen to this voiceover over and over on my copy of the soundtrack all the time. After choosing from your basic array of options (arcade, vs., group battles to the options menu) we are presented with some very peculiar, very interesting characters:

Hayato Kanzaki: The main protagonist of the series, Hayato was abandoned on the streets of Neo-Tokyo by his parents at an early age. After growing up in an orphanage, he reluctantly became a bounty hunter due to the lack of jobs and to help the owner of the orphanage get out of the debt. While dealing with the inner turmoil about his profession and the criminal activity it often leads to, Hayato stumbles upon an advertisement for a project called Star Gladiator. This good-natured Luke Skywalker/Ken/Ryu-ish character sees it as his way out of a life he does not want to lead.

June Lin Milliam: A gymnast from mainland China, June and her family are forced to flee their homeland after a violent revolution breaks out. Relocating to England, the only job her father can find is in the lab of one Dr. Edward Bilstein. Unsurprisingly, her father is killed when a blast rips through the facility; her mother soon follows when she succumbs to her grief. Later, the Princess Leia-haired June discovers the incident at the lab was no accident and swears revenge on the mastermind behind it: Bilstein.

Saturn Dyer: A green skinned alien from the planet Saturn (but not our Saturn mind you!) with smile as wide as a dump truck, Saturn originally intends to turn down an assignment to observe life on Earth from afar. However, he reconsiders once he realizes it's the perfect opportunity to perfect his skill with the “intriguing” yo-yo. Through street performance he becomes so proficient with it that he can actually wield it as a weapon. In the end, he defects from his home planet and joins Star Gladiator for the potential fame.

Gamof Gohgry: Having worked as a lumberjack to support his terminally-ill mother and younger siblings since childhood, this combination of Chewbacca and Zangief turns to the life of a bounty hunter after the forests of his home planet DeRosa are devastated by an unknown Earth microbe. Having become disillusioned with the lifestyle much like his friend Hayato, he joins project Star Gladiator for the chance to change his fortunes for the better.

Franco Gerelt: Having a lot in common with Cloud City's Lando Calrissian, the Spanish Matador Franco Gerelt (will Spanish Matadors even exist in 2348? Capcom, you're crazy... simply crazy) is framed for the abduction of his family by a rival matador during an event on Zeta. During his escape from the authorities, Gerelt encounters Bilstein who cunningly convinces him the only way he'll ever see his family again is to fight for him in the Fourth Empire.

Vector: A soulless killing machine created by Bilstein in order to conquer Earth and aid his escape from Zeta, Vector enters the fray as a final test of its battle capabilities (which is odd considering “Vectors” didn't seem to have any problem doing their “job” in the opening video, did they?). While Vector and his storyline have more in common with Killer Instinct's Fulgore than that of CP3-O and R2-D2 of Star Wars fame, this contorting robot wields a mean plasma rifle fueled by an internal plasma generator.

Rimgal: An experiment of Bilstein's, Rimgal is a combination of dinosaur DNA and that of Michael Milliam, June's father. Unfortunately, while the human side of Rimgal is supposedly self-aware, it fights a constant battle against its primal urges and the bio-control chip that was implanted in its brain after the accident at the British lab. Its worst fear is that it will eventually give in and destroy its own flesh and blood.

Zelkin Fiskekrogen: Before the events of Star Gladiator, Earth had clashed in battle with the bird-like people of the planet Klondike. In an attempt to bring the long battle to an end, Zelkin surrendered himself in exchange for the release of POWs. While the exchange was honored, the rumor that he passed way while imprisoned on Zeta allowed the Federation Army to keep him confined indefinitely. Freed by Bilstein during his escape, Zelkin joins the Fourth Empire in order to repay his debt. He is also an acquaintance of Hayato's as well although how this is so is never explained.

Gore Gajah: Born in Bali, Indonesia to a large family, Gore grew up performing mind tricks and magic for his younger brothers and sisters. Such black magic was linked to the family name before this however. That said, Gore had higher ambitions for his powers than simple amusement. While rising to fame on his own before the conflict, he sides with Bilstein's Fourth Empire in order to learn more about plasma power.

Bilstein: The madman that has spearheaded the events of the game with his goals of planetary conquest, Bilstein is an imposing Darth Vader figure that wields an enormous plasma sword in battle. Who knew a nerdy, Nobel Prize-winning physicist could cause so much trouble? Bilstein can be unlocked through the use of a code.

Beyond the initial 10 characters the player will encounter battling through arcade mode, there are a few additional fighters that can be unlocked and push the already peculiar boundaries of characterization. Seriously, just wait until you see the profile photo used for the one character and some of the hidden Easter eggs in the game. Unfortunately, the last of these hidden fighters, an alternate version of Bilstein, is only accessible through the assistance of a GameShark.

Getting down to the nitty-gritty of battle, Star Gladiator plays out like most 3D fighters that came before and after it. Two fighters start out in the middle of an elevated ring and can either exhaust their opponent's stamina or knock them out of bounds to take the round. Characters can execute vertical weapon attacks with the square button, horizontal weapon attacks with triangle and kicks with circle. Attacks can be blocked with the guard button (X) or evaded through sidestepping. Combos can be executed by chaining the three attack buttons together in a preset order much like a late era, 2D Mortal Kombat or Namco fighter. Pretty standard stuff.

So where does Star Gladiator start to differentiate itself from the crowd? First and foremost is the Plasma Strike, a once per round special that does massive damage. While similar to Soul Blade's "Critical Edge" attack it adds a bit of strategy to fights. Do you use it right off the bat to get ahead of the game or do you save it in case you are in need of a desperation attack? As powerful as the move is, the short wind up that is needed to prepare it gives your opponent a chance to attack and cancel it. Usually, having the move interrupted uses up your one and only attempt, but it all really depends on when you're interrupted. If knocked out the animation early enough, you can still retain your charge and make another attempt later. Still, word to the wise, don't count on it.

Next up is the Plasma Reflect, a somewhat risky reversal technique. One of the Plasma Reflect commands repels horizontal strikes and the other vertical strikes. Upon execution, your character will flicker and, depending if your opponent is unlucky enough to attack with the corresponding attack (vertical vs. vertical or horizontal vs. horizontal) the characters weapons will collide with one another. The defending character will now have a slight advantage in recovery time compared to the attacker, creating an opening for an attack. Obviously, some will question to proposition of opening themselves up for an attack just to create an opening when a well timed sidestep can do the same thing , but if the opponent keeps coming at you with the same combo (thus opening with the same strike) you can start to see how the Plasma Reflect can hold it's own.

The Plasma Revenge, the automatic-response version of the Plasma Reflect, works in much the same way, only that your character immediately counter attacks the opponent after a strike. Unfortunately, as impressive and satisfying as these moves can be to pull off, anyone who has ever been the victim of one will probably tell you they do feel a little overpowered when the shoe is on the other foot. Wrapping up the array of plasma powers available to the player are Plasma Finals. For the lack of a better description, Plasma Finals are basically combos that end with a bit more fireworks than your typical combo and can be defended against easier because of the time needed for their execution, which offsets their offensive power. For most characters, there isn't any one way to execute a Plasma Final as there are usually a few chains in their combo tree that will get them to the same result.

In another twist, the characters in Star Gladiator can be divided into groups depending on which “combo tree” they employ. For example, a Type A character like Hayato can link the same buttons together as another type A character like Gerelt, so, technically, if one is proficient as playing as Hayato, picking up and playing as Gerelt shouldn't be much of a problem. While this may initially seem to rob the characters of some of their individuality, a character's weaponry along with timing and physics (if a hit knocks or pops up an opponent) can drastically make the same combo very different.

As well as the above comes together, there a few things that hold the combat in Star Gladiator back. While some will be quick to point out the characters can feel somewhat unbalanced, it's simply that some moves cause too much damage. The Plasma Revenge falls into this category as well as Gamof's spinning pile driver which is capable of robbing any poor sap of half their stamina. Still, when it comes to looking for a full-blown problem, nothing beats the issue characters seem to have facing their attackers at times. Certain moves and situations can leave a character's backside turned to their opponent for what seems like an eternity and, as frustrating as it can be, there isn't anything one can do about it except let the game's engine realize the problem and correct it. It's hardly a deal breaker but I'm sure more than a few heated matches have been unjustly lost because of it.

Regardless of the problems the above can create, there are many other aspects of Star Gladiator that help make up for it. Graphically, the game brings the goods for the era it was released in, much better than what Plasma Sword was able to do in its day. This is mainly due to the fact the ZN-1 board the arcade original employed is similar in architecture to the hardware within the PS1. Ironically, some of the fighters look better here than they do in the sequel! This also applies to the backgrounds, which have depth and personality to them. It's this personality and how it correlates to their related characters that helps bring the game's world alive. Still, the fighting environments don't do this alone; a lot of the credit goes to composers Isao Abe and Yuko Takehara (Breath of Fire II, Mega Man 6) for crafting such a solid score. Can anyone else imagine anything other than classic Capcom rock blasting in the background when battling Zelkin on top of an aircraft carrier or the death tinged darkness heard while tying to outwit Gore? A underrated element of the game for sure (actually, just about anything Takehara composes for ends up being underrated) it's made even better considering these tunes where remastered from their arcade originals to take advantage of the PlayStation's sound capabilities. These tunes can also be enjoyed outside the game in a standard CD player to boot! Praise for the audio doesn't stop there however. While all the whacks and thuds of battle are on point, it's the voice acting that deserves real praise. As simple as such an idea would seem, making extraterrestrial characters sound extraterrestrial and goofy adds to the genuine feel of the characters. Additionally, hearing a pound and respected fighters like Zelkin and Hayato speak in Japanese just feels right, something than an English dub would probably flub.

Unfortunately, when it comes to putting the finishing touches on the characters it presents, Star Gladiator tends to be a bit stingy. Despite what some people erroneously believe, the game does indeed include actual endings to each character's scenario. The problem is you have to be really, really good – and really fast - at the game to even see them. Viewing a character's ending is based on clearing arcade mode in a given amount of time based on the number of rounds and, well, it's far from easy. In fact, while continuing doesn't automatically give you the bad ending, continuing even once will probably add enough time to put you over the limit. As if that weren't bad enough, you only have one chance to defeat the special adversary that appears if you do manage to make it. Fail in doing that and you'll see the second bad ending. Making people work for something is one thing, making pursue a rather unrealistic goal is another.

Anyway, that is Star Gladiator. While it's fairly obvious why the series never caught on and became mainstream, it's a solid game that deserves attention from fans of the genre. Perhaps the best way to put it is its a few steps higher than a Battle Arena Toshinden and only about one down from Soul Blade and is worth the ten to fifteen dollars you'd spend to acquire it.

Final Fantasy III: a title that can mean two different things. On one hand, Final Fantasy III refers to the now outdated and somewhat disfavored title of the SNES version of Final Fantasy VI. On the other, Final Fantasy III refers to the real Final Fantasy III, a twenty-one year old Famicom game that was never officially released in any market outside Japan, a fate its immediate predecessor Final Fantasy II once shared. Also on the list of previously unreleased, missing-in-action titles was Final Fantasy V.

Be that as it may, most fans know this page of history by now and how fallible a philosophy it was to renumber these games in the first place. Still, while three of the six games in the series were unavailable outside of Japan before the launch of Final Fantasy VII, the missing episodes would get their shot at western audiences in the years that followed. Final Fantasy V would be released in the Anthologies package and a remastered edition of Final Fantasy II would accompany the original adventure in 2003’s Origins. Both games would even see a few re-releases in the future on the GBA and PSP, but the fact remained that Final Fantasy III was still relegated to it’s homeland outside a back alley option like emulation or flat-out importing.

As sobering as time can be in a predicament such as this, I’m sure I’m not the only one that found this to be quite bothersome. For the lack of a better analogy, it was akin to having a series of books only to have one missing right in the middle. Granted, given that each Final Fantasy is its own self-contained entity (well… they use to be before sequels became the in thing) it’s not like Final Fantasy III was a missing chapter in continuous story. However, I’m sure there are those who would use such a word to describe a missing installment given the over arching themes and influences. Thankfully, despite some of the sins they have perpetrated since the damaging yet life sustaining merger, SquareEnix decided to right this wrong by releasing an updated version of the game on the Nintendo DS.

Now given how late I am to the DS party, I was pretty sure I knew what I wanted to write about Final Fantasy III – a game that time has somewhat forgotten despite the facelift. About ten hours in I assumed I had enough information (or gripes) to do what I wanted: tear the game down and put another nail in the proverbial coffin of a series and company that has literally lost its way. Yet for some reason I waited; I didn't start writing this a third of the way through the game like I planned – the one third of the game I had played in its original form years ago. I can’t really explain why I waited – that great mystery remains unsolved – but I’m glad I did. Not only did I save myself the time I would have spent rewriting this review in a more positive light, but I was reminded that first impressions are often lousy to begin with.

Recon Confliction

As with anything that receives a fresh coat of paint, Final Fantasy III on the Nintendo DS takes a few liberties with its source material. First off, this time the player’s characters are given default names and basic, cardboard cutout personas. It’s no longer a boy’s day out as one of the characters (Refia) has been designated as female – so no one can anyone call Final Fantasy III sexist anymore. Anyway, as PC as this is in reality, beyond that lies the second major change: the fact that you no longer start with a full party like the Famicom original. In falling down into Altar Cave with Luneth, the player will find they must wait a bit to get the other members of their party. Because of this, the events that follow are switched around a bit and the future aspects of the story are ultimately placed under more scrutiny. How much scrutiny? In the original all four “boys” were raised by Elder Topapa in the village of Ur. In this rendition, only two of the characters (Luneth and Arc) are raised by Topapa; the others (Refia and Ingus) are raised by the mythril blacksmith Takka and the citizens of Sasune. Now why does this change take center stage? Because it makes the game’s first twist even more implausible than it was before. We’re talking Final Fantasy VIII-esque bad and anyone who’s played both games should have an immediate clue as to what I’m talking about.

Okay, so attacking a plot point in a game this old is rather moot given there aren’t too many NES games that are known for their plot. Still, I point it out because as weak-kneed as this moment truly is, Final Fantasy III is able to make up for it with the revelations that follow even though they break no new ground. I’ll admit I’m not completely pleased with the bad guy who seems a little too content in sending out his various cronies while he sits in his castle when other Final Fantasy villains like Golbez actually got their hands dirty. Disappointing and disposable as he is in the end, I liked the reasons behind his actions even though I couldn’t really identify with them.

Freelancer Employment

Much like Final Fantasy V, Final Fantasy III employs a job system that grants the player a tremendous amount of freedom. Unlike the original Final Fantasy, your characters are not locked into their given class for the duration of the game. Now you can switch jobs on the fly (minus a brief, statistical-based penalty) and tweak your party to face the challenges in front of them. Generally, the game lets you make your own decisions, but there are times where the game will make a suggestion. These cues range from the subtle (like presenting the player with certain equipment at shops or in treasure chests) to the blatant blathering of a no-name NPC who rambles on and on about a particular class. These types of hints are really divided upon themselves because while they’re both intended to make your life easier, not following a major hint can really throw a kink in your progress - especially if it’s early in the game. Still, following the given advice may not be enough - you may need to compensate in other ways to accommodate the given situation.

Antagonizing as these moments are, I found I had a lot more success – and fun - blazing my own trail. Yet a lot of my success was due to certain classes proving way too useful. Perhaps more than any other Final Fantasy I can think of employing a Thief in my party was a pure pleasure and paid off huge dividends. Stick with the class long enough and you’ll see how easy it is to master it long before any other. Related to that success is just how invaluable it can be to wield two weapons. This is something I've often avoided in past Final Fantasies because it seemed somewhat unnatural not to have a shield but once you start scrapping enemies left and right you start to warm up to it. Another class worth its weight in gold is the Warrior. The game tries to offset the offensive power of the Advance command by lowering the defense of the character prior to it’s activation but such an attempt is futile – much like trying strike a balance between spell casting and attacking with the disappointing Red Mage.

While there are obviously some class/team set ups that won’t work, there really isn't a “brick wall” point in the game for most classes when it comes to usefulness. I bring this up because the writers of the official strategy guide try to dive home the idea that once you enter the final stage of the game you need to give up on certain classes (like those from the crystal of wind) in order to advance. This simply isn't true. Sure, you’ll want to upgrade your While/Black Mages to the Devout/Magus classes in order to gain access to level eight magic (that’s a no-brainer) but that’s about it. I never encountered the “invisible wall” they alluded to until the last battle but that was due to other, rather ill-explained gameplay factors like…

…Magic Resistance? What’s That?

Most Final Fantasy veterans know that magic resistance is the statistic that determines how much damage their characters will take from a magical attack. In past games I (and others I’m sure) have looked at this number with secondary importance compared to things like attack power and physical defense. Well, those days are over. Magic resistance is of the utmost importance in Final Fantasy III because the field before magic resistance is even factored in is completely skewed. Confused? Let me explain…

In role-playing games (and in D&D where a lot of role-playing mechanics are lifted from) it is generally believed that a “magically oriented” character should take less damage from a magical attack than one that’s “physically oriented.” Okay, I’m not the smartest cookie on the face of the earth but I generally believe that makes sense to a certain degree – a magician should excel at defending against the kind of techniques they employ themselves. This idea can be seen in nearly every role-playing game in existence and Final Fantasy III is no exception. The problem? The degree to which it is practiced. On average, melee characters take five times more damage from a spell than their spell casting counterparts. That’s a four hundred percent difference! So if a spell does one-hundred points of damage to your spell caster (which excludes Red Mages) expect to see a five hundred pop up on your fighters. This is ridiculous in the purest sense of the word. At the most I would expect a spell to do 1.5 or double damage to a physical character at the most but five? The real kick in the pants is when your levels are high and spells start doing zero damage to your mages yet still take a sizable chunk out of your fighters.

Bad as this may seem, there’s more to the story. As much as I talked up dual wielding earlier forgoing dual wielding is actually the key in helping amend a fighter’s defense against spells. Despite the fact it doesn't show it in the equip screen (the game only shows your physical defense power on this screen) equipping a shield will increase your magical resistance. You’ll have to switch between the equipment and status screens in the menu before and after to see the difference numerically but its there. Anyway, while this helps the situation (trust me, it makes the last fight a heck of a lot easier) the gap between fighters and mages is still quite wide in this respect despite what the numbers would have you believe. My suggestion? Feel free to dual wield during random encounters but ditch the extra weapons for shields during boss fights. It’s amazing how the additional damage adds up and causes a nightmare scenario for your healer. Random encounters are usually over before they begin and if you focus on eliminating spell casting foes first there really is no threat. As for the boss-fest that is the end of the game it’s best to drop the extra weaponry altogether and opt for shields – the extra bit of resistance is invaluable and the weapons you have at the point should be more than enough to get you through despite being solo affairs. The official strategy guide suggests this in its section on the final confrontation but doesn't really explain it fully.

Another Final Fantasy Completed!

Despite the bump in the road that is magic resistance, I enjoyed my time with Final Fantasy III. While I don’t really enjoy being schooled I’m glad the game put me in my place for wanting to fire a volley in its direction solely based on the company that made it. Still, Final Fantasy III doesn't succeed because of its facelift (in fact, a remastered version of the game like Final Fantasy I & II on the PS1/GBA/PSP would have been fine if not better) but because the core game is worth experiencing despite all the advancements the genre has seen since its original debut. I won’t deny all the faults listed above, but if a game like Final Fantasy II can still work despite its myriad of problems than who’s to say Final Fantasy III can’t as well?

As one of the forefathers of modern-day first person shooters, Doom is a title that needs little introduction. Initially lighting up PC's in 1993 with its presidio 3D worlds and engaging multiplayer, id's hot property would make its appearance on every video game console known to man in the years that followed, even on those with less than suitable hardware. While such proliferation is nothing new, the history and differences between these ports and the original represents an interesting side story in an already engrossing tale. At the top of the 90's ports lies the PlayStation edition, which, despite having to bow to some restrictions of its own, has a little more going for it than most would expect - even fourteen years later.

One of the first things that will strike one with Doom on the PlayStation is the new, ambient soundtrack provided by Aubrey Hodges. Gone is Robert Prince's in-your-face metal-influenced MIDI, which brings up the first real debate to be had with this port: the music. While some will point out the obvious shortcomings of Doom's sound capabilities on the PC, there was a abstract charm to many of Prince's tunes that drove the gameplay forward, making the game feel looser and edgier than it really was. In contrast, Aubrey Hodges' backdrop makes the game feel a lot more methodical and reserved. It's quite remarkable how each set of tunes, music being an element most would classify as a secondary concern, has such a big effect on the world being presented.

Another difference that's apparent early on are the updates to the graphics engine, the employment of “all-new ambient lighting effects.” It's nowhere near as impressive as the back of the box makes it sound since the transitions in light are as rigid as they've always been (which has never been a problem since it has always played into the type of game Doom is) but at the same time you have to laugh at the idea that the graphics have been upgraded, even two years after Doom's first appearance. It's true there's a slightly wider color palette at work here, but once you realize how many compromises have been made to reach such a plateau it means next to nothing. The number of textures a level uses is dramatically lower than the PC and, as a result, the levels don't have the same pop. Not soon after, especially if you dip back into the PC version between PSX run-throughs, you'll start to notice that these more repetitive textures, coupled with the slightly lower screen resolution, makes objects in the distance ripple when moving around. Other graphical changes made to accommodate the hardware revolve around alpha channel blending, making those pesky Specters a little more inconspicuous and altering the look of weaponry when one's under the effects of a blur artifact.

Much more pressing than the above is the editing or complete removal of key levels to maintain a consistent level of performance. While it's not the first level to have changes made to it, the editing of the Containment Area is just down right depressing. This is an extremely entertaining and complex map in its original form but to have it reduced to where it stands here does it no justice. A similar situation reigns over the Spawning Vats, although in its defense the changes (the retexturing, the removal of the ceiling that allows the animated sky from the title screen make an appearance) make it an interesting take on the level. Still, the biggest blow to the level set-up occurs in Doom II and centers on the omission of the Downtown map. This map is instrumental in driving home the story and setting of Doom II and easily eclipses the omission of The Icon of Sin, which, taking in why the above edits where made to begin with, would make the PlayStation choke faster than swallowing an unchewed biscotti.

However, when it comes to the PlayStation and Doom in general, one would honestly think that Sony's new machine could handle a bit more than this. In a general sense, one could say 1996's Final Doom proves that with its psychotic Plutonia and Master Levels. That extra year may have enabled Williams to crank a little more power out of the system, power that could have been used to push these above levels beyond their current configurations. Be that as it may, while Doom may have been pinned as a three-dimensional game when it debuted, most know it's a two-dimensional game at heart. While there have been some excellent 2D games for the PlayStation such as Konami's Castlevania: Symphony of the Night and Capcom's Mega Man X4 that made their debut despite Sony's erroneous - and down right moronic - philosophy of only wanting to publish 3D games to show off the console's hardware, its RAM limitations with such games has been well documented. It's not hard to believe that PlayStation has an easier time with three dimensional games, and given that Doom came out the same year the PlayStation launched, perhaps I'm being a bit harsh considering the games available when a system launches are usually eclipsed by those that appear at the end.

Wrapping up the subject of the levels included in this port, it's the maps presented here that are not present in the PC version that are the main reason to track this version down. The first new level, Hell Gate, is pretty disappointing, presenting a level not unlike the Fortress of Mystery where the main goal is just to kill everything that is thrown at you. Such feelings are quickly reversed when playing through the alternate version of Hell Keep and the last two levels of Doom, Twilight Descends and Threshold of Pain. The layout of the former is especially impressive and deserves to be played by any Doom aficionado as it undoubtedly feels like it should have been part of Doom from day one.

As far as getting around the levels, the PlayStation controller is spot on when it comes to control, making important combat tactics like circle-strafing a breeze compared to the PC. The drawback is the game's age means that analog control is out of the question, and there is little doubt how well such control would work. Other nitpicks revolve around things like the archaic password system. I can see how this could have been useful given that the PlayStation and its accessories weren't as affordable in 1995 as they were later on, but not allowing saves via the memory card is ridiculous. Couple this with how flawed the password system is (one time after messing up a character or two I ended up with 300% health) and it's plain to see while Williams took advantage of some of the more underused features of the PlayStation like the two player link cable, ignoring simple features found in almost every other game was short sighted. Other disappointments revolve around things that are rather superfluous in nature. The removal of the intermission maps, while understandable considering the previously mentioned edits, is bit of a buzz kill as is the removal of the events that take place at the end of Phobos Anomaly, which easily lie amongst the best beginnings/endings in video game history.

Despite its problems, Doom is a blast to play on the PlayStation and excluding the more recent ports of the game found in the Collectors Edition of Doom 3 and Xbox Live, is the best port you'll find. Beyond the system's controller lending itself well to action (which can be replicated on the PC without much trouble) the sole attraction here are the levels that don't appear elsewhere. However, even when one takes this into account, it can be hard justifying such an acquisition, especially when the PC version is – by most accounts – the epitome of id's vision. PlayStation Doom is solid, but certainly not “the best Doom yet!”

Like the sun and the moon, video games come and go. In our polygon and pixel fueled bliss (and frustration) we often overlook the signs that tell us what will be continuously embraced and what is down for the count. For example, if you had told me in 1998 that Tomb Raider III would be the last Tomb Raider title to grace my TV until 2007's Anniversary, I wouldn't have believed you. Sure, I didn't exactly enjoy everything Tomb Raider III threw at me, but there was no clear-cut decree that I was through with the series. Regardless, the damage had been done, at least in a covert, subconscious manner. Because of this the last two games on the PlayStation, The Last Revelation and Chronicles, didn't even register a blip on my gaming radar despite the fact the PS1 was alive and well. While it's only natural to leave certain things behind, there are times were we can't help but wonder what we missed out on, or see if a somewhat conflicted franchise can change its fortunes for the better.

This was the central question I faced as I placed Tomb Raider Chronicles into my PlayStation 2. Ten years late to the party, could it mend the bridge one of its predecessors unceremoniously burned long ago or would it only add insult to injury? An interesting proposition to be sure, I can't even begin to explain how the game managed to span such a crevasse. All I know is it did regardless of its problems. That said, in an effort to uncover how things went so right even when they could have gone so wrong, let's take a look at this potluck of mini adventures Ms. Croft's closest friends share with us:

Rome:
The first story presented in Tomb Chronicles takes place in Rome. Here, we are reintroduced to Larson Conway and Pierre Dupont (from the original Tomb Raider) as they attempt to swindle Lara out of her payment for the Mercury Stone, the lesser half of the fabled Philosopher's Stone. Outside the fact we are faced with another series recon here (the idea that Lara never met Larson before the opening of 96' original being "shot to hell" in a matter of seconds) I couldn't be more pleased with the return of these characters. Well, almost. Was it really necessary to lower Larson's intelligence quotient that far? I think we already knew he was an idiot. Overdone as the characterization really is, by the time “Frenchy” promises to buy him a milkshake, all is forgiven. Unfortunately, while Core gets away with hitting the easy button when it comes to characters, the same can't be said of the level design. While it's great to see the whole “there needs to be a deathtrap around every corner” thing from Tomb Raider III has been put to pasture, we now have levels that are too safe (creatively, not figuratively) and are still uninspired. This starts to change once the player reaches The Coliseum - a level that almost recaptures the spirit of those in the original – but ultimately fails short due to its length, which is ironic considering most of Chronicles levels benefit from their short stature.

Russian Base:
Lara's second quest takes place in levels that are as cold and as hardy as the most sea weary commander. In short order, this journey takes one through an indoor dockyard, the tight quarters of a ship (submarine), a somewhat forgettable underwater skirmish and back again. Generally speaking, the Russian Base is a very peculiar section of the game and it's not particularly easy to explain why. The gradual improvement in the level design combined with the rather stereotypical characters makes it seem like this story is stuck in traction most of its duration, but the experience never really grinds to a halt even though it feels like something's missing. That thing? The narrative is simply in hibernation here, and it only comes out of its sleep during the final level. It's here where the build up from the previous levels is finally justified, and while the game is not going to win any awards for original storytelling the payoff at the end is substantial enough to overshadow the fact you've seen this story in every submarine themed movie ever shot. As silly as it seems to applaud a game for successfully mimicking an overused plotline, Chronicles success here is a prelude of things to come.

Black Isle:
This is where the game really starts to shine. While this adventure is more or less born out of the first recon that allowed Von Croy to teach the young Lara about spelunking in The Last Revelation (personally, I always liked how Lara's parents originally disowned her because of her appetite for adventure) The Black Isle has more in common with a MediEvil game than a Tomb Raider game. While most people would laugh at the mere idea of ghosts and goblins showing up in any kind of Tomb Raider narrative, or that it could be enjoyable to go around without any weaponry and focus on puzzles, such ideas quickly prove their worth. Still, what really brings these levels to life are the two ghouls the story focuses on and Father Patrick Dunstan, an Irish priest/demon hunter. Not since the original Tomb Raider has such an interesting character been introduced. Quite honestly, I couldn't get enough of the guy, from his cool and collected demeanor to his getting slapped for mouthing off to damned spirits, he literally brought everything together. The only bad thing is as high as Dunstan raises the bar there are other characters that insist on limboing under it.

Tower Block:
The last set of levels is where Tomb Raider Chronicles plays a perilous game between positive progression and past pitfalls. Starting off in some air ducts above the fabled Iris, we're quickly introduced to several things that scream Tomb Raider III: laser traps, turrets, and the HK gun which looks a lot like the MP5. Truth be told, the last thing this game – or any game – should do is remind me of Tomb Raider III. It's just a bad idea. The second thing on the not to do list that is done is throwing the concept of creating likable yet stereotypical characters to the wolves with the introduction of (a somewhat insulting take on the quintessential African American hacker) Zip. For every line of dialog that is actually funny (“guns is metal”) there are fifty lines that are just terrible, and by the time Lara asks him why she's even bothered to hire him I'm asking myself the same freaking question. Of course, Zip's answer to that particular question is pretty excruciating, but when it comes to shades of Tomb Raider III that appear, it's surprising how the game takes those elements, makes them its own and makes them ten times better. Things almost fall apart during the final level (Red Alert!) for a multitude of reasons, but things miraculously come back together again before it's too late.

General Observations:
In its final incarnation on the PS1, it's nice to see that some of Tomb Raider's graphical deficiencies have been addressed. The polygonal breakup that ran rampant throughout the first three installments is nonexistent here, leaving clipping as the only occasional issue. Such an achievement really isn't Chronicles doing since this revision of the Tomb Raider engine was first featured in 1999's The Last Revelation. Still, the cleaner experience is appreciated. The only other gripe to be had is when the game shifts to an unchangeable, preset camera angle that makes it difficult to control Lara. I'm sure Core would love for me to believe this is to add a cinematic quality to certain areas, but in reality I think we all know the main reason behind it was to lighten the burden on the design team so certain objects didn't even need to be rendered. Still, things like this are easy to overlook when each area of the game finally has a look and feel to call its own.

While it suffers from most of the problems present in every game the series has seen thus far, I have to admit that I enjoyed my time with Tomb Raider: Chronicles, and I'm sorry that I allowed Tomb Raider III to keep me away from it for all these years. Chronicles doesn't really succeed because of its gameplay however, relying more on intriguing characters (old and new) than anything else. That said, fans who gave up on the series like I did should give this a go; they may end up just as surprised as I was to find out there is another game in the series worth their time.

Genesis Trees. Seru. Ra-Seru. Malevolent Mist. Crystal Grass. Weed Hammers. There are so many things that remind me of 1999's Legend of Legaia it isn't funny. Like most RPG's, Legaia is big on imagination but short on individuality. Well, that last part isn't completely true, the game offering its own unique twist on combat. Still, was this element of the game enough to make it successful in its day, and is it enough to power it twelve years later?

In the world of Legaia, combat is a little more involved than it is in most role-playing games. Characters attack enemies with left and right punches (weapons and Ra-Seru) and high and low kicks. These strikes, when performed in a specific order, unlock “arts,” unique attacks that surpass standard blows in strength and ability. Depending on how they're performed, arts can be overlapped to form combos. In short order these basics are joined by advanced techniques like Hyper Arts (elementally-infused beat-downs), Super Arts (combos ending with otherwise inaccessible moves) and Miracle Arts (ultimate attacks that require a maxed-out command bar and ninety-nine arts points).

So how is all of this action reigned in? First of all, arts consume arts points. Also limiting what can be attempted per turn is the length of a character's command bar. By employing the “Spirit” command, the player can temporarily extend this bar, restoring their AP and raising their defense. Not only is protecting your character in this manner important, the command effectively shaving two-thirds worth of damage off any attack, it's also how your characters fuel their offensive.

Unfortunately, as clever as Tactical Arts System is, things start to slowly unravel when one looks beyond the hand-to-hand combat. As important as it is for your characters to absorb Seru throughout the course of the adventure, the player will quickly discover there is little reason to cast offensive Seru unless they're in a boss battle and can use the Kemaro spell. Faced with such a situation (despite the fact some summons can hit multiple targets) the main reason behind most casting will be healing. Unattractive as offensive magic ends up being, its small potatoes compared to the real problem holding Legaia's combat hostage: money.

So how can money cause a game's battle system to collapse? It's quite easy. We've already touched on the slow pace of combat – multiple menus, watching arts and summons unfold, the need to switch between offense and defense – that's easy to overlook when traveling from A to B. Unfortunately, this forgiveness runs thin when one's faced with the wide gap between the gold obtained from fighting and price of new equipment. So if you love to fill your coffers each time you get to a new town, you're not going to be very happy. What is going to make you less happy is the amount of time you'll have to devote to get the cash.

Now, I'm not against working for money and experience in an RPG, but you'd think by this point in the evolution of gaming this kind of stuff would be done away with. I can see and accept things like this in an older, SNES RPG like Breath of Fire II, but in this day and age (and even back in 1999) it's unnecessary. And this is how combat, Legend of Legaia's “ace-in-the-hole” becomes its biggest liability because of it's over exposure. At this point you may be wondering if it can get any worse. It does. Random battles become tortuous during the final leg of the journey where normal enemies gain the ability to smite your entire party; it's especially painful in the final dungeon where the Seru come in threes.

Beyond the plight befalling Legaia's combat, there's little debate that the remainder of the experience is inspired, adequate, and insipid. Michiru Oshima's music is a great example. The light and heavy earthen tones employed throughout are appropriate on the whole, but it's never anything more than a simple backdrop that can't live beyond its context. Pointed commentary aside, even I have to eat those words upon entering a Mist Generator; the drive and oppression that flows from “The Misty Nest” personifies the evil nature of these infernal machines to a tee. Truth be told, there is nothing special about this composition, but it capitalizes on the kind of synergy that's missing from the majority of the score.

Legaia's storyline shares a somewhat similar fate. Like most J-RPG's, the cliche's are out in force, so don't expect anything to jump out and truly surprise you. As one dimensional as the villains are, it's not like Vahn, Noa and Gala exactly jump off the screen. There is no doubt they are likable, but they don't break any new ground as far as character archetypes go. You have the good old country boy with the mandatory blue hair in Vahn, the disciplined warrior-monk on a quest for revenge with Gala and the lonely, socially-awkward wilderness girl Noa. As if it needs to be said, the type casting continues in battle with Vahn being the all-around character, Noa relying on her agility to make up for her fragile frame and the big bruiser Gala starting off extremely limited but coming into his own late–to-mid game.

Last but not least are graphics. While most people will probably agree that Legaia looks a lot better in battle than out of it, both realms lead to the argument that Legend of Legaia is somewhat dull and uninspired. While this happens to be true given the game's setting and scenario, there are several things that fight against it. Despite the fact the normal, non-Seru enemies could have used a lot more imagination, the Seru themselves are an intriguing bunch that come off as a demented take on Nintendo's Pokemon. Watching your characters bruise enemies with arts along with the visual evolution of your character's Ra-Seru, weapons and armor are sights to behold.

After playing through Legend of Legaia for the first time in over a decade, I've learned that one's memory can be awfully selective. I had placed Legaia on equal footing with the genre's heavyweights only to discover that its shortcomings place it significantly lower. That said, I'm glad I played it and rediscovered the truth. As annoying as some of the situations in game can be, I'm going to go easy on it. While some will see this as a disservice, I can't condemn the game when its ambitions are in the right place. Guilty or not, if you're a fan of RPG's and have a soft spot for the original PlayStation there is no excuse to skip over what Legend of Legaia has to offer - the good, the bad and the ugly.

Blunt as it may seem Crash Bandicoot: Warped is a game I have spent far too much time away from. Innocent as it may seem, my first encounter with Warped was when I obtained it through a very haphazard trade with a friend during my high school years. Unlike myself, my friend was always looking towards "the next greatest thing" in video games and would always sell off his current system to help purchase the newest one. So before he traded in his PlayStation I swapped a few of my titles (ones I was getting a little tired of like Tomb Raider II and III and Resident Evil 2 which my cousin kind of ruined by leaving in his car in a rainstorm with the top down) for a few of his like Need for Speed: High Stakes, Syphon Filter and, of course, Crash Bandicoot: Warped. As clear as this event still is in my head to this day, this took place over ten years ago. Despite it being an complete unknown when I traded for it Syphon Filter and the following two games would become a huge hit with me (personally I think it's one of the most console-defining series to be found on the original PlayStation) and I remember having some fun with the Hot Pursuit mode in Need for Speed.

Still, given that it's Warped we're here to talk about there where many events that would keep me away from it for so long. After high school I moved to the city to study graphic design and brought my trusty PlayStation and armful of games to play during my downtime. I would replay a few classics (like Final Fantasy IX) and even play a few games for the first time (Mega Man Legends 2!) here and there but a few bad roommates later (who would pretty much steal everything that wasn't nailed down because I didn’t take their late-night scream-fests lying down) I would have no video games outside those for my Super Nintendo. Given my financial situation while in school, the thought of rebuilding my collection was out of the question and was something that would have to wait until later.

Free from academic commitments a few years later I would attempt to replace what was lost. The effort was honest but was eventually sidetracked by my related interest in video game soundtracks. Eventually I would disassemble what I was rebuilding and only keep a few personal classics: the first two Wild Arms titles were keepers as was Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. Mega Man Legends was definitely in there as was the excellent Mega Man X4. Then in 2008 everything changed. An independent video game store opened its doors in a neighboring town and the gaming floodgates reopened with their ability to stock retro games. As you can imagine, it was (and still is) wonderful not having to use the internet/eBay to track down all those titles again. Yeah, I willing to admit internet shopping has made things really convenient for all kinds of collectors out there but there are times where actually seeing the product before you buy it (e.g. I’m a condition nut = black boarders only!) is extremely helpful and relieving.

So where does Warped come in? Well, about two years ago I picked up a mint condition copy of Warped from this store for the measly price of eleven dollars. Anyways, like a lot of games I’ve reacquired with the intention of replaying Warped found its way into that massive backlog of games every gamer has hanging over their head and it probably would have stayed there if it weren't for one of the employees at this aforementioned store. See, unlike chain stores where the employees only seem versed in current video games the family that runs this store can hold their own in a gaming conversation. One of the those conversations ended up on the subject of the Star Ocean series in which I offered to lend my copy of Till the End of Time to the clerk since he enjoyed The Last Hope so much. He declined stating he had too many other games to play at the moment but I offered to whip up a list of games I had at my disposal for his reference.

Simple as it would seem to punch out a list I wanted to make this a bit more involved – or interesting. Granted it may be interesting to see what games another person is into/has played through but at the end of the day it’s still a black and white list. So with each game I decided to white a short paragraph that contained my thoughts on it - good and bad. Things when pretty smoothly but there was one entry that stood out from the rest – Crash Bandicoot: Warped. What did that entry say?

”While I have to question Sony’s sanity when they tried to rile up competition between Crash Bandicoot and Mario 64 I generally have good memories of the PlayStation Crash titles. The only negative thing I can say that’s related to those memories is the fact they are very foggy and are in definite need of revisiting. Hopefully when I play it at some point Warped will be the game I remember it being”

When it comes down to it, how could anyone write something like that and just ignore it? After reflecting back on that small group of sentences the game was literally beckoning me. So I did what any sane person would do and I busted that puppy out. How did things go? Did those decade old memories live up to current reality? Yes, yes they did.

But how? How did Crash Bandicoot: Warped not only live up to those distant remnants but utterly surpass and (quite frankly) destroy them? I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is the gameplay in Warped is polished to the point of near-perfection and it took a purchase and romp through the first two games to prove it to me. Now, I’m not here to rain on the first two games in the series – I’d think only a fool would overlook how important they were in the scheme of things as far as the original PlayStation’s success is concerned – but in no way are they as refined as Warped. Now in saying that I would expect some to point out that the best features in Cortex Strikes Back are the basis for Warped and that’s no lie. The earlier games are not made worthless because of this but to say that don’t lose out because of it would be another lie.

Still, while I try to candy coat the leap in quality as to not offend its predecessors if I was going to pick one area where Warped scores big with a simple idea it would be time trails. I’ll be honest, unless it’s a racing game (a genre I very rarely indulge in) I generally hate the idea of time trails and I’ve seen the concept crash and burn when used outside of racers like in Tomb Raider Anniversary. The last thing Tomb Raider should be about in the overall sense is speed. Yeah you might need some speed to outrun a giant boulder per say but given the puzzle aspect of the game that is far from the entire picture. However, given the beautiful simplicity of the gameplay in Crash Bandicoot time trails fit the game like a glove and really add a sense of challenge to the proceedings. Again, this is another feature that was fooled around with in certain levels in the second game but like so many other ideas it has finally come to fruition and makes a great game that much more of a complete product.

I know to some the endless stream of praise of above may put into question my overall objectivity but I haven’t played a game this good in quite a while and it’s been some time since I've wanted to share and shout my love for video game title in the streets like that classic commercial for Mortal Kombat. Warped simply delivers – it was worth its asking price when it debuted and is still worth it now and it was an insanely grievous offense that I left it on the back burner for so long. If you enjoyed what it had to offer and haven’t played it in a while do yourself a favor and give it a quick whirl, you won’t regret it!

Hailed by many as one of the forefathers of first person shooters today, id Software’s Doom is a title that needs little introduction. Initially lighting up PC’s in 1993 and 1994 before making its way across the vast field of home consoles available at the time, the simple story of a stranded space marine determined to make it home was destined to become a classic. However, despite the accolades the game received in its heyday, something peculiar occurred in the years that followed. Unlike classic side scrollers like Super Mario Bros.3 and Mega Man 2 that command respect when brought up in conversation, Doom has encountered the opposite scenario. Honestly, I can’t count how many looks I’ve gotten for bringing the game up when the subject turns to the FPSs, even from game store employees who advertently or inadvertently tout their knowledge of video game history like a name tag. Is it such a stretch to connect Halo to Doom? Does Doom have the computer equivalent of cooties? When did it acquire this case of cooties and why wasn’t I notified? I can totally understand puzzled looks when pulling an obscure and downtrodden title like SaGa Frontier out of the hat of video game reminiscence, but this is a game that had an immense cultural impact.

This leads to the inevitable question: do fans of first person shooters even savor their games? This is not to insinuate that all fans of the genre are fickle or shallow, but this is the feeling one gets from some of them and members of the industry. Still, as bright and shinny as games have become, there is something to be said about the beautiful simplicity of Doom. In fact, I’d go as far to say that I’m more impressed with what id was able to do back then when compared to what developers are currently capable of now. Such admiration may teeter on the edge of fanboyism, but it’s not limited just to the gameplay and the world built around it but to the music as well. However, before one can explore what it brings to the experience, one must explore the rich tapestry behind it.

Robert Prince: Composer, lawyer and… rapper extraordinaire?

One of the most interesting aspects about the music of Doom and Doom II: Hell on Earth is the use of “sampling” by composer Robert Prince. Sampling, the process of lifting recognizable riffs, beats and notes from previous works to bolster new works, became a relevant topic with the emergence of rap and hip-hop in the early 1990’s. As would be expected, this practice has led to numerous lawsuits centered on copyright law and intellectual property. Although it may not seem like it, the music of both games is loaded with beats and riffs lifted and inspired from various heavy metal outfits like King Diamond, Pantera, Slayer and even Metallica. Utilizing his past experience as a lawyer, Prince was acutely aware of how far he could encroach on these original works before a legal line was crossed. Clever as these small musical asides may be, they account for little of what the music has to offer.

Doom (Original PC MIDI)

Odd as the comparison may seem, the original PC MIDI of Doom reminds me of the NES. Both are quite primitive in the sound department, but that’s about all they have in common. More often than not, NES music has a certain rustic quality to it that makes it charming. This fails to be the case with Doom's crude functionality. However, in the heat of the moment it doesn’t detract from the experience as the infamous “At Doom’s Gate” quickly proves. Regardless, there are certain times where it seems like Prince wrote the bulk of these tunes without considering the limitations of the format, or that they were conceived using a completely different and superior sound spectrum before they were retrofitted for use in the game. This results in lows that don’t sound low enough and percussion that doesn’t sound punchy enough. While some tracks like “Kitchen Ace (and Taking Names)” and “Sign of Evil” lose out because of this, there are those that make out like bandits. The thin nature of the sound greatly adds to a fleet footed piece like “I Sawed the Demons” and the electronic nature of the instruments only enhances the drive that helps “Deep into the Code” define a level like Pandemonium. In the end, the means used to present Prince’s devilish depiction of Phobos, Deimos, and Hell is unimpressive, but it does little to dilute its impact.

Doom (Doom Music)

Cut and dry as it may sound, Doom Music’s greatest advantage happens to be its greatest shortcoming; namely, that while the enhancements to the overall audio quality are nice, they are meager. The aforementioned “Kitchen Ace” and “Dark Halls” are some of the best examples, their beats still remaining a bit too shallow despite what the additional reverb brings to the table. It’s this that makes the inclusion of “Sinister” and “Suspense,” tracks that are dead ringers for the names assigned to them, no-brainers since they are predisposed to revel within such tweaks. As important as is it to present this side of the score to the listener, the improvement is moot since the game’s MIDI had no real problem presenting them to begin with. Still, when it comes to really changing something to the point where it is undeniably notable, nothing surpasses “At Doom’s Gate.” In a love it or hate it move, the track has been infused with (higher sampled) sound effects. Hearing these classical noises in such clarity is a hoot – especially when the shotgun coincides with the percussion – but with it being the only track presented in such a fashion, it’s understandable why it feels like an unwelcome intruder. Be that as it may, while the story of the original game’s music would appear to have reached its conclusion, rest assured it’s only just begun.

Doom (The Super Nintendo Port)

Much like Capcom’s Street Fighter Alpha 2, Doom also happens have some strong links to the 16-bit arena. Like the aforementioned one-on-one fighter, id’s incarnation of the game on the fading SNES is of little note beyond its uncommonly superior soundtrack. Really, beyond the slight stumble in “At Doom’s Gate,” the Super Nintendo’s SPC700 fixes nearly every deficiency outlined above. Topping off the curious, bouncy bass in “The Imp’s Song”? Check. Fulfilling the need for more piercing percussion in “Kitchen Ace”? Affirmative. Giving gritty life to the mournful cries heard throughout “Sign of Evil”? You bet. Adding that slight mystical edge to “They’re Going to Get You” and “The Demons From Adrian's Pen”? Done. Evening up the intensity within “Facing the Spider”? No problem. The list goes on and on and on. It is a bit of a let down that “Deep into the Code,” “I Sawed the Demons” and “The End of Doom” had to be cut due to memory limitations, but whoever was responsible for the sound programming at Sculptured Software during this port’s development deserves a round of applause for adding the finishing touches to Robert Prince’s vision.

Doom (The PlayStation and Saturn Ports)

In one final stop before tacking the music of Doom II: Hell on Earth, we explore what happens when one does a one eighty with the musical identity of a game/series. So, what does happen when you replace Prince’s presidio-rock with a newly concocted ambient score? You change the object and feel of the game substantially. Gone is the in-your-face concept of shooting everything that moves and in comes the idea that slow, methodical cautiousness will win the day. It’s like night and day, it’s like North and South. Anyway, while I’ll be the first to admit ambient music is not my thing, some of these pieces (like the one that presides over the Halls of the Damned) stir an interest in me even though I favor Prince’s work. Those that don’t however should do themselves a favor and check out this work by Aubrey Hodges.

Doom II: Hell on Earth (Original PC MIDI)

With Doom II, Robert Prince would find himself not only musically depicting the forces of Hell, but depicting the havoc they were raising on the earth itself. Crawling with dark, moody and action packed numbers, this soundtrack is home to the same kinds of compositions as the original, but differs in two major ways. The first is the improved usage of the MIDI, which makes itself apparent from the outset and gives the listener the impression that these tunes were written and programmed with the limits of the format in mind from the beginning. This makes signature moments like the clunk of the percussion in “Running from Evil” feel as if they were a choreographed part of the track from the beginning. This doesn’t seem to be born out of the game’s need or use of slightly more advanced hardware (than its predecessor) either, meaning it appears to be the result of a composer finding out what works and what doesn’t. Lows are appropriately low, beats sound thin when they need to sound thin and thick when they need to be thick. The other aspect that’s been added to the formula has to do with the increased track length, the gothic “Into Sandy’s City” providing an appropriate illustration. Within its nearly five-minute time frame, the core composition repeats a total of three times, but in switching up the leads and instruments on each repeat an illusionary amount of girth is created. It’s hard to tell how much this really adds to the experience, but with the music of the first game succeeding without such a support structure it falls behind the other improvements to be found here.

Doom II: Hell on Earth (Doom Music)

Just like the selections from the original game, the music of Doom II doesn’t gain much from its upgrade either. In fact, there is even less to gain since the in-game versions have such an advantage in the sound department, but then who is going to complain about improving them even more? The main attraction here lies in the trifecta formed by “Running from Evil,” “Doom” and “Into Sandy’s City” when they’re taken in as a whole. Great tracks like these combine with key levels and bring the game’s subtitle “Hell on Earth” to life. There's a lot more at stake with the remaining picks however. Where's a sadistically fun and entertaining track like “Between Levels”? There’s no room for such a scrumptious anomaly but there's room for the long and monotonous “Opening to Hell”? Please. This musical backdrop is the least memorable thing about The Icon of Sin, although in Prince's defense I think any piece of music would get lost in a level with such a congested boss situation. Regardless, with the track representation being twelve to eight in Doom’s favor, a weak link is a weak link.

Final Doom: TNT Evilution (Original PC MIDI)

Before wrapping up this journey through space, hell and earth, it feels appropriate to comment on an even less represented chapter of Doom's musical history. Unlike its spawn-of-Satan counterpart The Plutonia Experiement, the TNT Evilution campaign of Final Doom contained a handful of new compositions from the members of Team TNT. Unfortunately, while some of the details about this score have been lost to the ages (composing credits for all these tracks aren't known) this work deserves a quick nod. Powerful compositions like “More” (credited to Tom Mustaine) and “Death’s Bells” drip with a flavor that would initially suggest Prince’s involvement. Other tracks like “Smells Like Burning Corpse” and “Into the Beast's Belly” feel like the spiritual successors to “Kitchen Ace (and Taking Names),” but it’s the slow, almost jazz-like burn heard throughout the Steel Works ("Cold Subtleness") that delightfully challenges everything one has come to expect from the series musically. Needless to say, it you like what you hear on Doom Music, TNT Evilution is another mandatory pit stop.

CONCLUSION:

While most will obviously question the value of a release that bears little improvement over the material it recreates, those that explore and become enamored with the music of Doom and Doom II: Hell on Earth will find little reason not to acquire this sole, official record of Robert Prince’s contribution to the PC phenomena – if they can find it. Still, such rarity should not deter anyone from tracking down and listening to the in-game MIDI that’s been derived from the game itself in lieu of such an acquisition. That said, Doom Music is not just a fragment of a soundtrack that paints the portrait of the hostile world the Doomguy has been thrust into; it’s the soundtrack to the hostile world you have been thrust into when you play the game.