Super Valis IV

Something about some kind of moon showing up, and then all the evil creatures come out of the desert and start causing all sorts of trouble for those who expect more from life than a trudge through a hell-like environment carrying God-knows-what weapon, probably dressed in something revealing, especially if you’re a woman, which you are.

Now, that’s about all I understood from this game’s intro. Or maybe there was some sort of internal struggle involved, in which the character looked as though she was about to drop a massive duce, but wasn’t skilled enough in her pelvic floor to get it out on time. Oh yes, this is a manga game. Get ready for some emotional plasticity and some incredible fucking struggles.

The first boss is Death. Princess Mononoke will have to think carefully about this one.

So, at this point, I was like, hey — so, what about the game play? And, as it turns out, it’s rotten like a week-old cat. Not a dead cat. A kitten. They are just too much to handle. The game is all about runnin’ around and slappin’ evil personified and then pretty much acquiring new, and possibly less boring ways of doing that. You see, this lady, see? This lady in the short skirt? She’s not very imaginative. Yeah, she pretty much does the same sword-swinging move every time you do anything. It’s like she gave up vanquishing evil years ago, and now she’s just on autopilot. The wrong man will do that to you sweetheart. Laughter and kisses aside, I’ve had about enough of platformers. Think they can barge into my house and start demanding that I jump on things, do they? Well, I have a trick up my sleeve.

So, you possibly sexually repressed woman: I quit! I quit trying to make your world make sense, and I quit attempting to get more power ups.

Platformers that are based on existing IP are only fun if you know and like that existing IP. Otherwise it’s like watching a cockfight at a bar you’ve never been to — you just don’t understand the conflict at the centre of it, and you can’t get emotionally involved. In the end, all you see is two old men swinging their dicks at each other. You don’t have the context-tinged spectacles you need to make sense of the scene. Perhaps Larry, the angry old man on the left with the flaccid, yet oozing, wang lent the gentleman on the right some money, and now he wants it back. Or maybe the man on the left with the missing eyeball and the bandaged hand had some sort of grievance with the other and decided to let his willy do the talking. In either case, you’re out of the loop, and you probably like it that way.

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