61 Frames Per Second : list

The Ten Greatest Ice Levels in Gaming History, part 3

John Constantine — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 00:10:00 GMT

Donkey Kong Country – Snow Barrel Blast

Donkey Kong Country isn’t the most fondly remembered SNES game out there. It was marketed to hell and back in 1994, its pre-rendered characters shoved down millions of gamers’ gullets as a final grasp at technological relevance before the dawn of 3D gaming’s rule. At heart, it’s a simplistic and fun platformer whose visuals have aged poorly. But certain stages in DKC still impress fourteen years later, thanks to a combination of inspired graphical presentation and deft sound arrangement. Snow Barrel Blast is the best DKC has to offer. An ice level that seems simple enough when Donkey and Diddy Kong emerge from an igloo at the start but soars when the sky starts to darken and the level goes from sunny winter landscape to brooding driving snow storm. It’s purely aesthetic, not informing the game’s basic platforming at all. But its beauty makes it the one thing memorable about DKC besides the hype. – JC

Super Mario Bros. 2 – World 4

Traditionally speaking, ice is the bane of platforming. As soon as you see blue ground, slightly shaded to a reflective sheen, you know that the rules you’ve been operating under up to that point are going straight out the window. You will slip, you will slide, and, so, you will miss many, many jumps. World 4 in Super Mario Bros. 2 turns icy surfaces into an exercise in speed and timing, setting up a first level that’s less about jumping across tiered platforms than it is about running as fast as possible and expertly sliding beneath/over oncoming enemies. It’s the speediest stuff in any of the original Mario trilogy. World 4 gets downright weird by the second stage: yeah, those are whales in between the ice-platforms and snowy outcroppings of rock. Why are there whales? Why not! Go spit some eggs, or something. – JC

Super Ghouls ‘N Ghosts – Ice Forest

Though it came out at the same time as Actraiser, as one of the first fantasy epics for the fledging SNES, Super Ghouls 'n' Ghosts could hardly be more different in tone. Where Actraiser is an existential epic, SG'n'G is a macabre romp; it plays as if Tim Burton and Danny Elfman designed a platformer and let the Marquis de Sade balance the difficulty. Stage 5, the Ice Forest, is a glimmering nightmare full of wolves, frozen ghost knights and spore-spitting snowdrops. In its lurid way, it's awfully pretty, but if you stand around admiring the ambiance, you will soon find yourself without your pants. – PS

Metroid Prime – Phendrana Drifts

Come on, you knew it was coming. Ice in Metroid recalls Samus’ arsenal more immediately than the series’ sprawling environments, but it also defines the most evocative and beautiful space in Prime’s Tallon IV. The Phendrana Drifts has a quality rare in Miss Aran’s adventures: it’s a tranquil place, almost soothing in its stillness. As the camera pans when you first arrive, and Kenji Yamamoto’s eerie, still score begins to play, the ice flows, icicle laden cliffs, and crumbling Chozo architecture come off as a place that’s safe to explore, free of bloodthirsty space jellyfish or insectoid pirates. It isn’t until Ridley’s shadow glides over Phendrana’s surface that you feel a literal chill and remember: Tallon IV isn’t a safe place. The frozen water kills and the ice blocks your way. Best to get bounty huntin’ before your suit freezes up. – JC

Part 1
Part 2

Previous Top Tens:

Ten Reasons Why Secret of Mana Sucks
The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great
The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels
The Ten Videogames That Should Have Been Controversial
The Ten Greatest Opening Levels in Gaming History
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History
The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History

The Ten Greatest Ice Levels in Gaming History, part 2

John Constantine — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 00:05:00 GMT

Lost Planet – The Whole Game

Lost Planet, Keiji Inafune’s attempt to make Halo for Japan, is one of this console generation’s most underappreciated games. The shooting is tight, the levels are impeccably designed, the automated-grappling-hook platforming is neat, and the Starship Troopers-bug baddies are some of the cooler looking HD threats out there. Sure, it has some clunky parts, but the good far outweighs the bad. What’s more, the entire game is all about snow and ice. The initial stages, wandering the frozen wastes of E.D.N. III, are still jaw dropping. It isn’t even the swirling snow or the ice-bound cities; it’s the sound, the crunch, of stomping through snow drifts. My teeth grit just thinking about it. The snowy setting is also behind Lost Planet’s health system. Your health is constantly draining because of the cold, so you’re forced to constantly collect the body heat of felled foes. That is cooler than crawling inside a Taun-Taun. – JC

Actraiser – Northwall

Let other developers go the way of stock level design. Quintet was always too good for that, giving their levels in Actraiser a pre-human quality that went far beyond the usual D&D boilerplate. That sense of a vast natural world haunted by gods and demons was perfectly captured in the two Acts that take place in the frozen land of Northwall. In the first, you enter a pristine wasteland to clear it for your subjects. Despite the substantial amount of combat that takes place therein, the austerity of the snowy background and the chilly beauty of Yuzo Koshiro's score gives the whole scene a sense of peace.

Things are different in Act 2, which finds you scaling a collosal frozen tree to rid your now-colonized land of monsters. This climactic moment finds all the forces of the arctic landscape rallied against you, with Koshiro's appropriately frantic music spurring you ever upward to destiny. – Peter Smith

Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow – The Lost Village

Castlevania is a series about place, but its range is often limited by the requirements of its title. Each game has its unique spaces, but they’re inevitably tied to Dracula’s castle and the Transylvanian countryside surrounding it, which is why franchise entries that mix things up are the most memorable. Of all the ‘Vanias to release after Symphony of the Night’s complete genre realignment, the Soma Cruz adventures are the most distinct, their near-future setting lending much needed modernity to the usual gothic ramparts and libraries. And given Soma’s snowy appearance, it’s not surprising that his second outing, Dawn of Sorrow, is home to one of gaming’s best ice levels. The first screen of The Lost Village plain makes you want to put on a coat. Snow falls lazily on a rickety wooden fence, dense forest obscures an enormous moon, and the only sound is wind. The real star is the central room, a multi-screen series of German-styled village buildings stacked on one another, frozen and abandoned. Unforgettable moment: landing a jump on a broken-down VW bus and seeing the snow slump off onto the ground. – JC

Part 1
Part 3

Previous Top Tens:

Ten Reasons Why Secret of Mana Sucks
The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great
The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels
The Ten Videogames That Should Have Been Controversial
The Ten Greatest Opening Levels in Gaming History
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History
The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History

The Ten Greatest Ice Levels in Gaming History, part 1

John Constantine — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 00:00:00 GMT

Autumn may only be a few weeks old, but, as it is with all seasons, you can feel its successor growing during the increasingly long nights. It’s getting cold and the chill has got us thinking about cool things, here at 61 Frames Per Second. As a result, we’re doing two things. One, we’re quoting Batman and Robin far more than we should. Two, we’re thinking about ice levels. Ice levels, like fire levels, refers to a theme more than a specific element. An ice level is more than ice. It’s freezing water, driving snow, strong wind, and grey skies. It’s gaming that makes you want to wrap up in a giant bearskin rug. Naked. Or not, to each their own. Here, we present to you, the top ten greatest ice levels in gaming history. – John Constantine

Chrono Trigger – Death Peak

*Spoilers. Big Ones.*

The snow-capped peak is not an uncommon locale in role-playing games. You’ve been there before: there’s a giant monster, typically abominable, waiting for you at the summit, and the journey to him is guaranteed to entail solving an ice block puzzle or three. You are also guaranteed to find some convenient Ice Armor or even, if you’re lucky, a Fire Sword. Chrono Trigger’s Death Peak, the lone natural environment in the Lavos-ruined 2300 AD, is different. It is, ostensibly, optional. Like everything else in Trigger’s end game following the silent hero’s death, you can skip the mountain entirely, though ascending it is fundamental in reaching the plot’s true conclusion. Death Peak is the physical embodiment of everything at stake in Trigger’s conflict, a frozen place inhabited by stray creatures, cold, and Lavos’ offspring, growing fat on decay, waiting to leave the dead planet to claim others as their own. Its challenge is both environmental and emblematic: your surviving heroes must push against snow and wind, against nature, to both save the world and also their fallen friend. No boss waits at the pinnacle, just a dreary sky and a chance to use the Chrono Trigger itself. When Crono is resurrected, the wind and snow cease, the sun emerges from the clouds and is eclipsed. If you choose to see it, it is the turning point in the game, the moment hope overcomes despair. – JC

Metal Gear Solid (1 and 4) – Shadow Moses

Most of the levels here made the list because they do two things: they are artful and the ice defines how you play through them. Shadow Moses, that forlorn little island north of Alaska where so many bad, Metal Gear-y things happened, fulfills both those criteria and then goes a step farther. Shadow Moses, and the very first post-opening-credits play sequence in MGS, defines the entire series. It sets the overdramatic tone, it bookends the franchise narrative, and it quickly establishes the stealth gameplay. It isn’t a real stunner now, but finding out that enemies would notice footprints left in the snow was exciting stuff in 1998. The return trip to Shadow Moses in Metal Gear Solid 4 is less exciting for its gameplay – it comes in MGS4’s limited-play back half – and more just artful. Approaching the base from outside, literally navigating through a white-out blizzard, provides a visually stunning moment in a game full of them. When I saw that giant bi-pedal robot lumbering through the snow, only barely visible through the torrent, I damn near threw my controller at the screen. – JC

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 – Ice Cap Zone

Okay, okay. I've never much cared for Sonic, but I will admit that its cartoony, distinctly '90s environment design is distinctive, and Ice Cap Zone probably deserves a place on this list. It's cool how you snowboard in, and it's cool how half the level breaks around you in big chaotic shards of crystal, even if the gameplay remains duller than toast. And the much-beloved music is pretty catchy, although it evokes a night of strip-mall dance clubbing more than an arctic wonderland... Okay, Sonic fans? Okay? You win this round, you hear? Now stop sending me those horrible pictures! – PS

Part 2
Part 3

Previous Top Tens:

Ten Reasons Why Secret of Mana Sucks
The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great
The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels
The Ten Videogames That Should Have Been Controversial
The Ten Greatest Opening Levels in Gaming History
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History
The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History

God Bless 'Merica: Top 10 Patriotic Games Evar

Cole Stryker — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 23:00:00 GMT

Whooo! Break out the tater salad and grill up some lil' smokies! You'd better be dang sure them pigs are in blankets, too. With Independence Day coming up, this is the perfect weekend to indulge in a little casual ethnocentrism! Our international readers can skip this one, because they're not invited! USA! USA!

The list, AFTER THE JUMP.

Patriotic Pinball: Maybe you like pinball, but wish it had more WWII dogfights and boyish navy dudes.

Smash TV: "Big Money! Big Prizes! I love it!" In this fictional 1999, reality TV was like American Gladiators, but with fewer mulles and more disembowlment.

Wolfenstein 3D: At the end of this game you face off against Adolph himself, dual-weilding a pair of gatling guns.

Dukes of Hazzard: Return of General Lee: Help the Duke boys save an orphanage from Boss Hogg's greed.

Big Mutha Truckers: Ma' Jackson challenges her four children, Cletus, Earl, Rawkus, and Bobbie-Sue, to a "Trial by Truckin."

Redneck Rampage: You could actually buy a downloadable "Cuss Pack" for a buck, unlocking the FPS's naughty language.

America's Army: We all know this was developed by the real army to train tomorrow's super soldiers. Developed with your tax dollars.

Ikari Warriors: While the Japan-only sequel had you play as Fidel Castro and Che Guevara (no joke!), the original featured Paul and Vince taking down a brutal banana republic.

Cabela's Big Game Hunter: The farm kids who went to my school all loved playing this game at our local Walmart.

Medal of Honor: Allied Assault: The opening sequence actually freaked my WWII vet grandfather out a bit.

Happy America Day everyone! Now go bake a flag cake. Stay the course.

The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great, Part 3

Peter Smith — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 21:02:00 GMT

And now, the bad...

Metroid: Zero Mission (Game Boy Advance)

Is Metroid: Zero Mission a terrible game? By no means. On its own terms, it's rather good. But as a reconception of one of the greatest, most influential games ever made, it's a disaster, taking everything that made Metroid spooky and replacing it with a thick layer of corn. Metroid was heavily influenced by Alien. Remember the petrified extraterrestrial skeleton in Alien? What if that bastard had gotten up and started bombarding Sigourney Weaver with some hack's idea of ancient wisdom? Wouldn't that have pretty much thrown the movie's chilly austerity out the window? Like so many latter-day games, Zero Mission thinks comic-book jibber-jabber is cooler than eerie silence. This lack of subtlety is echoed in the gameplay itself, which, while it controls a lot better than Metroid, is chock-full of egregious hand-holding and advice-giving — pretty much the exact opposite of the original's sprawling openendedness. Metroid is practically Lovecraftian in the way it makes you feel tiny and alone in a vast and hostile universe. Don't look for that feeling in Zero Mission. Oh, and it also mangles the most immortal climax in videogame history — the truly unsettling slaughter of a shrieking brain in a jar, followed by a hair-raising escape sequence — by tacking on a (sigh) stealth section. — PS

Super Mario Advance 4: Super Mario Bros 3 (Game Boy Advance)

I can hear you, fanboy. The exasperated sigh, the cry of indignation. Super Mario Bros. 3 is the same great game it's always been on this GBA cart, sporting the snazzy 1993 Super Mario All-Stars graphics. But, first of all, I don't need to hear Mario yelping at me all the time. I know it's a-him. I'm perfectly fine entering a level without being told to a-go. The talking isn't the biggest problem, though. It's that Nintendo actually created a wealth of brand new levels for Super Mario Bros. 3, levels that brought over mechanics from both Super Mario Bros. 2 and Super Mario World, and left them off the cart. You had to buy the game, then buy an e-Reader, then buy packs of random cards from Wal-Mart and EBGames to play them. Oh yeah, and they changed the ending. What could've improved on a classic instead leaves me reaching for my NES. — JC

Ninja Gaiden Trilogy (SNES)

A scandalous missed opportunity, Ninja Gaiden Trilogy collects two of the greatest NES action games (and their mediocre third sibling) and gives them a graphical non-makeover, at points even downgrading. The gorgeous parallax in NG3's desert level is inexplicably MIA — dude, this is the SNES! Every level should have parallax that handsome, and you can't even keep it where it already was? The music is butchered too, despite the SNES's powerful sound chip — some of it is even missing. And some of the excised effects dumb down the gameplay, like the omission of the lightning in stage 3-1 of NG2. The whole point of that stage was that you had to operate in the dark; now, it's just like any other. Only one thing is really improved, and that's that the port of NG3 has the difficulty settings of the Japanese original, not its maddening U.S. counterpart. But the first rule of remaking is (or should be) "do no harm," which means Ninja Gaiden Trilogy flunks out of med school. — PS

Sega Ages Vol. 5 and Vol. 13: Golden Axe and Outrun (PlayStation 2)

The Sega Ages line, compilations and polygonal remakes of the publisher's classics, is certainly a noble effort. Letting players revisit games like Panzer Dragoon, Space Harrier, and Gunstar Heroes is just plain good, benevolent even. Making Outrun, one of early gaming's brightest visual achievements, into a washed-out, muddy looking budget title is the opposite of benevolent. You just don't make Outrun uglier than Cruis'n USA. It's wrong. Golden Axe, well, that was never much of a looker in the first place. But why would you make it more drab? Why would you add cutscenes? Why would you take out the opportunity to beat up gnomes for magic potions? It just doesn't make any sense! — JC

Mario Kart Wii (Wii)

A stretch, I know. But the inclusion of classic tracks from the original Super Mario Kart highlights how much gameplay depth has disappeared from Mario Kart's gameplay over the years. As an "enhanced remake," Kart Wii's version of Ghost Valley 2 is a bust. Don't try to make that awesome shortcut jump, cause the feather — an item that took actual skill to use — is long gone. In its place are a boatload of zany items that'll blast you from last place to first and back over the course of one lap. Yeah, it'd probably entertain your Amish cousins (or whatever other gaming-illiterate demographic Nintendo's targeting these days) for half an hour, but would my friends Mike Brownell and Mike Schlauch make it the centerpiece of a decade-long continuing struggle over who's the uncontested master of gaming/the universe? No — they'd both recognize it as far too spastic and random to function as a scale of justice. — PS

Click here for Part 1.
Click here for Part 2.

What'd we miss? What'd we unfairly vilify, and what'd we overpraise? Tell us in the comments section.

Previous Top Tens:
The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels
The Ten Videogames That Should Have Been Controversial
The Ten Greatest Opening Levels in Gaming History
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels
The Ten Greatest Fire Levels

The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great, Part 2

Peter Smith — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 21:01:00 GMT

Final Fantasy (WonderSwan Color)

The first in a vast battalion of Final Fantasy rereleases, the Wonderswan remake actually gets it righter than any that were to come. Sure, the Playstation version has FMV intros (whoo-hoo?), the GBA version has some mostly extraneous new dungeons, and the PSP version has sharper graphics. But the Wonderswan version gave the NES original a beautiful visual makeover that later ports would simply poach, and more importantly, it corrected some of the original game's antiquated design quirks in a totally optional fashion. In the NES game, if two characters attack one enemy and the first one kills it, the second character's attack will be ineffective. This is annoying, but it also forces you to plan; it adds some strategy to the essentially one-dimensional battle system. You could really argue for or against the feature, and the Wonderswan port gives you a choice. The same goes for a number of other idiosyncracies we cranky old-timers like to keep in our enhanced remakes; subsequent rereleases dumbed the game down until you could grind through it with a rubber band around the A button. — PS

Mega Man: Powered Up (PlayStation Portable)

People are excited about Mega Man 9's back-to-basics approach for good reason. The Mega Man name has become synonymous with chatty drama-fests in the past decade and a half, less about hard-as-nails action than lame anime tropes. The 2006 remake of the first Mega Man, Powered Up, isn't short on talking heads. It's also not an especially good recreation of the original's gameplay and, as for its new bosses, the less said about the Jim-Crow-faced Oil Man, the better. But Powered Up is a great game, and if it changes the original's exact scale, feel, and pace, it perfectly maintains the original's principles, albeit in its own super-cute fashion. The wealth of options in Powered Up is staggering, letting you play through the game as almost every character you run into in addition to an intimidatingly deep level-creation feature. If you want to remember how Mega Man was back in the day, well, that's included. — JC

Castlevania: The Dracula X Chronicles (PlayStation Portable)

Koji Igarashi remade Rondo of Blood last year out of necessity more than a need to improve upon the first. The final proper Castlevania sidescroller has aged exceptionally well in the past fifteen years, but it's impossibly rare, was never released outside of Japan, and is difficult to properly emulate. But Igarashi's Castlevania team did far more than just put some spit-and-polish on Richter Belmont's adventure, creating Castlevania's first truly attractive polygonal outing. More importantly, none of the game's perilous jumps have been hurt by the shift in presentation, unlike in so many 2.5D games. The remixed soundtrack isn't quite as spectacular as the original's, but you can unlock that in the game. It's win-win! — JC

Click here for Part 1.
Click here for Part 3.

The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes - And Five That Weren't So Great, Part 1

Peter Smith — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Well, having burned through our annual pants-replacement fund on the announcement of Chrono Trigger DS, we here at 61FPS now find ourselves surprisingly ambivalent about this remake (or is it just a rerelease?) of the greatest game Square ever made. Sure, it could be handsome and polished. But it could be sloppy and buggy, too. It could add new gameplay elements, or it could dumb down those that were already there. Chrono Trigger's a delicate thing! Be careful with that priceless art item, you sausage-fingered renovators! And here to guide you on a righteous path are five enhanced remakes that got it right — and five that didn't. — Peter Smith

First up, the good...

Tomb Raider Anniversary (PlayStation 2)

Most games simply do not need to be remade. As beautiful and ambitious as Square's impending Final Fantasy IV DS is, its voiced dialogue, new script, and three-dimensional overhaul are icing on a cake that was already delicious despite its simplicity. The original Tomb Raider, however, is a once-revolutionary title ravaged by the passage of time and the growth of technology. Forget how Lara's 1996 debut looks. Just think about trying to play a fully-3D game that requires precision platforming using only a d-pad. Crystal Dynamics' full remake of Tomb Raider put the engine from Lara's rebirth, the decent Tomb Raider: Legend, to great use, re-introducing the world to the game and, most importantly, preserving it in a way so people can actually play it in the years to come. Plus, grappling hooks are awesome. — John Constantine

Resident Evil (Gamecube)

If ever there was a lasting argument for using pre-rendered backgrounds in a game, it's the Gamecube remake of Resident Evil. The abstract, dollhouse creepiness of the Playstation/Saturn original was made nightmarishly real here, each room identically re-imagined as a dimly lit place of shadows, dust and blood. The visual overhaul would have been enough to earn RE a place on this list, but the gameplay additions were just as exciting. Zombies can't simply be dispatched with a hail of bullets any longer. You have to stab them in the head with disposable knives or set them on fire after you stop them from munching on your goodies. If you don't, they turn into fiery-red speed demons who will chase you through rooms. The only thing scarier is RE's new boss fight, which you should just go play instead of having me spoil it for you. — JC

Click here for Part 2.
Click here for Part 3.

The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels, Part 3

Peter Smith — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 17:32:00 GMT

Shadow Man

As Pete said, Mega Man III started to strain the series' robot-masters-as-industrial-tool conceit. Silly as Top Man is, I have even more trouble getting my head around Shadow Man and his lair sitting at the bottom of a waterfall of lava. What was the civic-planning meeting like for this one? "Finally, we have used the remaining funds in 200X's robot-master budget to build a crazy-sweet ninja robot who lives in a rad fortress at the bottom of a lava flow. He will be protected by robot frogs and parachuting heads." "Madness! Why would you do such a thing?" "Because, sir. It is awesome." Know what? He's right. — JC

Bubble Man

A big part of the classicness of any given Mega Man stage is the music. Bubble Man's got one of the greatest tunes in the series, an unforgettable bit of melodic pop that builds quickly to a dazzling chorus of harmonized square waves and Van-Halen-esque arpeggios, all over an appropriately watery triangle-wave bassline. But let's not forget the stage itself, which follows our hero from a huge waterfall, down into a cramped subaquatic tunnel (some kind of refinery?) stuffed with giant robot lantern fish, then back out into the open air for a showdown with the local kingpin. As in so many classic Mega Man levels, there's a beautiful sense of the elemental here — the breeze, the cold metal, the spray of the sea. — PS

Crystal Man

You'd think Capcom's increasing ability to push the NES hardware would've made stages in the later Mega Man games even more memorable than their simpler precursors. Unfortunately, this usually wasn't the case. Many levels in Mega Man II and III gave you just enough detail to fire your imagination, and not enough to stifle it; the increased detail of IV through VI actually made the stages seem less like real places and more like digital constructions. Sometimes the most evocative background of all is just a sinister and inviting black. Still, the fancier graphics of later games did allow the occasional surrealist delight, like Crystal Man's stage, a jagged landscape of shimmering gems and glass-tube-enclosed machinery. For a brief and gorgeous section, the blue background switches to glowing hot pink like an animated bar sign. — PS

Dr. Wily's Castle, Part 1

This is the finest stage in the entire Mega Man franchise, spin-offs included. Mega Man II has four scenes of explicit narrative, and outside of the introduction's brief narration, they are wordless, used only to provide spatial context. What is remarkable about the first stage of Wily's castle is how it conveys scale and design independent of the cutscene that precedes it, how its propulsive music perfectly illustrates exhaustion, finality, and resolve. It is an assault, the scaling of a mountain using literally every tool at your disposal. The level concludes with actually breaching the fortress' walls and finding a chasm, the crossing of which requires precisely timed jumps across miniscule platforms. The castle's guardian, a screen-filling robotic dragon, destroys your footing in its pursuit. The stage, the music, the opponents reveal everything about this world and its stakes: you are fighting a madman on his terms and survival is not guaranteed. Remarkable. — JC

Click here for Part 1.
Click here for Part 2.

What'd we miss? Tell us in the comments. For the record, we like Flame Man's arabesque oil well and Tomahawk Man's cod-western badlands too, but nothing from MMVI makes the top ten in fairness. MMVII and MMVIII are beneath discussion.

Previous Top Tens:
The Ten Videogames That Should Have Been Controversial
The Ten Greatest Opening Levels in Gaming History
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels
The Ten Greatest Fire Levels

The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels, Part 2

Peter Smith — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 17:31:00 GMT

Metal Man

More than your average Mega Man stage, Metal Man's feels collosal. Who knows why — maybe it's the giant screws and gears in the foreground, or the dense, heavily animated background (technically quite impressive) of pistons and cogs. Or maybe it's that Metal Man's stage actually has somewhat less variety than most of Mega Man II's stages, thereby suggesting a larger size. Whatever the reason, the scope seems massive. The stage itself is relatively short, but it feels like just a small part of a vast, rusted-out fortress of industry. — PS

Toad Man

For all of Mega Man IV 's missteps (downgraded music, overemphasized story, increasingly nonsensical characters), it's not without its highlights. Toad Man's stage bombards you with intimidating elements from the start, buffeting seemingly easy jumps with heavy wind and pouring rain. As you descend deeper into the sewers of 200X, waterfalls crush, overflows lead to bottomless pits, and robotic vermin (rats, slugs, snails) take full advantage of your decreased mobility. The stage is emblematic of the series' descent into comic absurdity, but it's flawlessly laid out and challenging. — JC

Spark Man Revisited

Mega Man II is an undisputed classic, but for a NES game, it's pretty damn easy, a fault that Mega Man III hastens to correct. By the time you get around to the "dark" versions of conquered stages, III is offering you no quarter. When you walk into Spark Man's second stage, you're at the bottom of a room with no ladder to the top; as you go to summon Rush Coil, just imagine Keiji Inafune giving you the finger. Spark Man 2 is also a long haul, with some truly nasty spike placement and two bosses to tackle; for an added touch of creepiness, it's also got a damaged background texture that suggests the whole place has been bombed out. Ominous stuff. — PS

Click here for Part 1.
Click here for Part 3.

The Ten Greatest Classic Mega Man Levels, Part 1

Peter Smith — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 17:30:00 GMT

Capcom, I don't really know how to say this. It's a little awkward, but damn it, it's the truth. We've known each other a long time, and you've always been a good friend to me, but this year, things have gotten more serious. With Street Fighter IV, HD Remix, Commando 3, 1942: Joint Strike and two versions of Bionic Commando, it's like you've gone out of your way lately to show me what I mean to you, and now that you've announced Mega Man 9, it's time for me to return the favor. Capcom, I. . . I love you.

Jesus, I don't know what came over me there. But with Mega Man 9 just unveiled in all its eight-bit glory, my old-school-gaming glands are all swollen and red, and I think it's squeezing out the blood flow to my brain. The early Mega Man games are masterpieces of their era, and they feature some of the most unforgettable stages on the NES — a series of giant constructions that, high-tech though they may be, maintain a playground-like innocence. World-building obsessives that we are, we couldn't let this glorious day go by without commemorating the ten greatest classic Mega Man levels of all time. — Peter Smith

Elec Man

Keiji Inafune's first attempt at Mega Man was promising but ultimately half-baked. The play was there but the world itself was still confused, its six core stages shuffling back and forth between "gamey" abstraction and eerie pastoral. Elec Man's tower was one of the series' first real successes, an ascent that felt like a true structure and not a background for a sprite to jump about, a dangerous place pulsing with energy that could obliterate our diminutive hero using the very power that fueled his mechanical innards. — John Constantine

Top Man

The whole premise of Mega Man was that each of the Robot Masters you were fighting had been conceived for an industrial purpose and therefore ruled over an area appropriate to his capabilities. (Guts Man is a construction robot, right, so he's in this construction zone... or something.) This whole idea kind of fell apart as the robots got weirder. By all rights, Top Man should probably have been in a giant robot toy store or something, and God knows that's how the series' increasingly corny later installments would've played it. Luckily, Inafune and co. were still capable of a curveball or two when Mega Man III came out, which must be why Top Man's stage isn't a toy store at all, but some kind of bizarre jungle/greenhouse/space station. With giant robot cats. Most fans would agree it's better that way. — PS

Gemini Man

As important as the future metropolises of classic Mega Man are the natural landscapes. Gemini Man's stage shows a world where even the harshest environments have been hollowed out, bent to the will of humanity, and overrun with intelligent machines that can work and survive where our fragile bodies can't last. Enemy placement is logical, functional in this arctic wasteland; drones spill fire digging into the frozen surface, giant penguins produce an adapted work force, robotic-tadpole pods shifting to maintain delicate structural integrity deep in the ice. The whole place is cold and sharp, beautiful and forbidden. I'd never survive there, but Mega Man can. — JC

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The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History, Part 3

Peter Smith — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:32:00 GMT

Jak II

As Amber recently mentioned, Jak's personality changed between Jak & Daxter and Jak II. This wasn't an, "Oh look, he's got a new hat!" sort of change either. Jak went from being an unassuming, Pixar-styled young-and-plucky hero to a gun-toting, tortured prisoner of war in the span of two credits sequences. But Naughty Dog's decision to frame the sequel around a loss of innocence isn't what's adventurous about Jak II. In Jak & Daxter, Jak is mute, but following his fall from grace at the beginning of II, he chats up a storm. As significant as the shift from a silent vessel for the player to inhabit to a defined personality driving story are the changes made to Naughty Dog's original play design. Jak & Daxter was a hub-based platformer in the vein of Super Mario 64 (albeit more linear) that featured basic melee combat. Jak II has more in common with Grand Theft Auto than Spyro the Dragon, eschewing platforming arenas and challenges for a mission based structure and vehicle play with more gun combat than melee. Naughty Dog have established themselves as one of gaming's most reliable developers, but few of their titles have the sheer balls of Jak II. — JC

Star Fox 2

"Star Fox... 2?" you ask incredulously. (Or maybe you don't, because you are a gamer with an internet connection, and you probably know more about Star Fox 2 than we do.) In any case — yeah, there was a Star Fox 2, and weirdly enough, at the time it was cancelled it was just about finished. Star Fox 64 became Star Fox's first released sequel, and it's a lot closer to the original Star Fox than its miscarried older brother. Star Fox 2 was an innovative oddball, with multiple distinct characters and (most notably) a lot of gameplay on a non-linear map where the player's team can intercept enemy forces before they reach Fox's home planet. It's sort of like a Command & Conquer-style strategy game where traditional Star Fox action kicks in once opposing characters engage. Some of these concepts were reused in the 2006 Nintendo DS title Star Fox Command. But if your heart belongs to the 16-bit era, Star Fox 2 is a real lost gem, and a truly ambitious sequel. — PS

Resident Evil 4

In all fairness, Resident Evil 4 plays almost identically to Resident Evil: Leon Kennedy moves like a tank, turning with none of the grace or precision a trained US Secret Service agent should have (though he becomes downright acrobatic when prompted to jump off a building.) Items are collected and, technically speaking, zombies are shot. But, oh, the difference a shift in perspective can make. Bringing the player’s viewpoint behind Leon’s shoulder as opposed to the dramatic but fixed camera angles of early Resident Evils not only made for more dynamic gunplay but changed the entire tone of the series, making for a more claustrophobic and less generally ominous atmosphere. Resident Evil 4 also made survival horror more about fight than flight, providing copious amounts of ammunition but even more dire odds in its hordes of glaring enemies. More than any other game on this list, Resident Evil 4 could not be more different than its predecessors at the same time as being undeniably rooted in the series. It is the essential adventurous sequel: everything’s different but feels like home. — JC

Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island

There's a probably-apocryphal internet story about the development of the 1995 masterpiece Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island. Asked by Nintendo management to develop a Mario title with pre-rendered graphics (in vogue at the time due to the success of the otherwise generic Donkey Kong Country), the ever-contrary Shigeru Miyamoto instead moved the visuals in a radically different direction, ordering up the lush crayon world that eventually became Yoshi's Island. Whatever the truth of the story, I remember being thrilled at the time because a) I thought Donkey Kong Country was overhyped bullshit, and b) I thought designers were getting obsessed with graphic "realism" when it really wasn't appropriate to their games. (The latter complaint was borne out by the subsequent half-decade of gaming.) Besides being visually stylized to a degree that games have only recently re-approached, Yoshi's Island also brought in Miyamoto's usual boatload of gameplay innovations, from the protect -a-shrieking-baby mechanic to the unique projectile system. Super Mario World was essentially a tarted-up Super Mario Bros. 3, but Yoshi's Island was a strange and wonderful beast. — PS

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The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History

The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History, Part 2

Peter Smith — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:31:00 GMT

Super Mario 64

If you'd asked a young me to imagine a three-dimensional Mario Bros. game, I'd have pictured a screenshot from Super Paper Mario — essentially, the point-A-to-point-B linearity of classic side-scrolling Mario, shot from a different camera angle. Instead, Shigeru Miyamoto's first 3D adventure completely rewrote the rules of platforming, replacing the "get to the end" format with a variety of challenges set in one, open physical space. To a generation weaned on linearity, this was pretty overwhelming at first — I remember being plunked down in Bob-Omb Battlefield and wandering around like a chump for an embarrassingly long time. 64 was so different from its precursors that you arguably wouldn't call it a sequel, but bear in mind that no one knew at the time what the next generation of games would look like. Early 32-bit games like Bug and Clockwork Knight dressed 2D gaming in 3D clothes. As usual, that nut Miyamoto had something different in mind. — PS

Castlevania II: Simon's Quest

This game is full of fucking liars. That's the least of its eccentricities but it's worth pointing out up front. Up until the late '80s, Konami's bread and butter was short arcade games, heavy on action and reflex based play as exemplified by well-known staples like Contra and Gradius. The original Castlevania was no different, just six linear stages of unforgiving reaction play that demanded careful attention to the game's weighted attack/jump timing. As home consoles strengthened their grip on players, Konami followed the growing trend of creating longer, deeper play experiences. Castlevania II: Simon's Quest has only superficial similarities to Castlevania. You jump over platforms, whip monsters, and move from left to right. But the world is persistent, requiring you to revisit most locales, and it's littered with towns. Towns are full of non-enemy characters selling items and offering "advice" on how to proceed through the game's barely defined obstacles. Simon's Quest also introduced one of gaming's first night-and-day systems. During the day, towns are safe. At night, everything kills you in two seconds and towns are full of zombie chicks. Konami retreated from Castlevania II's experiments for almost a decade, but the series has never since done anything quite so daring as having its lead die after beating the game. — JC

Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

We are aware that this list is populated almost exclusively by games designed by Shigeru Miyamoto. What can we say? He's an adventurous guy. [Shouldn't that be "adventuresome guy?" — PS] The first Legend of Zelda is, arguably, Miyamoto's true masterpiece, the culmination of his first design era. His benchmarks: Donkey Kong created context and narrative, Super Mario Bros. brought speed and an expanding world beyond a single screen, and the Legend of Zelda created an actual world to explore, an organic place peppered with secrets. After its release in 1986, the next decade of Miyamoto's career was one marked more by refinement than creation. But, in 1987, Miyamoto got experimental. Alongside the aforementioned Super Mario Bros. 2 is Zelda's sequel, The Adventure of Link, a sequel so bizarre in its design choices that it's still seen as a blemish on a series considered unimpeachable by gamers and designers alike. While Zelda II doesn't eschew the original's birds-eye-view perspective entirely — travel and world exploration is presented this way, albeit with a much more expansive view — all the action takes place in multi-tiered scrolling stages (not dissimilar to SMB2's.) Items were replaced by spells learned from chatty townspeople, heart containers and swords replaced by role-playing style attribute growth, and link himself grew from a diminutive elf into a teenager with a peculiar, post-lobotomy stare. Unlike some of the other games on this list, very little of Zelda II's design has been used in subsequent adventures. I've found it only gets better with age, a diamond in the rough of a series that's become bloated and stagnant after twenty years of little revision. — JC

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The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History, Part 1

Peter Smith — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:30:00 GMT

More than any other creative medium, videogames rely on sequels. Unlike serial fiction (television, comics) or film franchising focused on continuing narrative and familiar characters, videogame sequels — at their best, mind you — are not just the next chapter of a story or the return of a popular protagonist. The most successful gameplay designs are perfected through revision. Practice, as they say, makes perfect. And while sequel-as-business-model more often than not leads to stagnation, sometimes pandering to the audience reveals a vein of creativity richer than that found in the source material. Sometimes, a good idea needs to be demolished and rebuilt over its original foundation to become great. This week, 61 Frames Per Second takes a look at gaming's ten most adventurous sequels: direct successors that significantly alter the fundamental design, aesthetically and mechanically, of their predecessors. Some of the entries on this list are great successes, others failures. But they all broke the mold to change our ideas about play. — John Constantine

Adventure Island IV

Even as an old-school die-hard I've always been pretty indifferent to the Adventure Island series. Sure, it's solid hop-and-bopping, but without much aesthetic or architectural distinction. Does anyone feel passionately about Adventure Island, really? More people might if Adventure Island IV had come out in the States. IV melds the series's standard run-around-whacking-stuff-with-other-stuff mechanics to an ambitious Metroid-esque superstructure, in which newly acquired items must be used to open previously inaccessible sections of a large, continuous map. (The snowboard you pick up in one area gives you passage through a snowy field, and so forth.) This is a familiar tactic today — see recent Castlevania games, for example — but at the time it was unusual, and certainly not where you'd have expected a staid platforming series to go. — Peter Smith

Super Mario Bros. 2 (Super Mario Bros. USA)

Quiet down. I know Super Mario Bros. 2 is Doki Doki Panic. As soon as those sprites were transplanted into Shigeru Miyamoto's platforming follow-up to Super Mario Bros., it became a Mario game, and SMB's first true sequel. Even Nintendo went on to re-categorize Takashi Tezuka's Japan-only Super Mario Bros. 2 as little more than an expansion of SMB (it was re-released in 1993 as Super Mario Bros: For Super Players in Japan and Super Mario Bros: The Lost Levels in the west.) What's remarkable about Super Mario Bros. 2 is not its unorthodox development; it's how it warps the fundamentals of SMB (and even J-SMB2) while maintaining familiarity. The aesthetic shift from SMB risked alienating Nintendo's still-growing fan base but it made Mario and his friends even more recognizable as icons. Play wise, it expands on the multi-character abilities of J-SMB2, and re-defines progression through levels. In SMB, the goal is merely to get to the end of a series of stages and then get past Bowser at the end of castle. In SMB2, the completion of levels is usually tied to items, whether it's procuring keys to get past locked doors or retrieving a magic orb. The game also has multiple antagonists that have to be physically defeated as opposed to just avoided as with Bowser. It was also pretty adventurous to have a transgendered dinosaur in a game for kids. Risky! — JC

Final Fantasy II

The old joke is that, by rights, Final Fantasy II shouldn't even exist. In 1987, Final Fantasy was intended to be a young Hironobu Sakaguchi's swansong, an experiment in the rising role-playing genre made popular by Yuji Horii just a year before. Its success has kept the Gooch making games for two decades now, but the series, and JRPGs broadly, owes many of its enduring characteristics to the sequel that never should have been. Final Fantasy II was designed by Akitoshi Kawazu, best known for the SaGa series. While the first FF, with the exception of a few aesthetic flourishes, was more or less a clone of the first two Dragon Quests, Final Fantasy II placed an emphasis on story and character that was absent from the genre previously. Rudimentary as the tale of empire and resistance was, the story of Firion, Maria, Guy and Leon in Palemecia was a drastic shift from the western-style hero-epics that typified the genre in 1988. Kawazu also made some decidedly ill-advised changes to play. As opposed to the traditional system of gaining experience points through battle to build character's statistical attributes — a foundational aspect of role-playing games, digital and non — each action in the game improved only through use. Increasing defense requires defending against attacks, increasing attack power requires attacking, and so on and so forth. This system of growth was applied to every interactive aspect of the game and quickly became tedious. But it was one more new idea in a game full of them. — JC

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The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History, Part 3

Peter Smith — Thu, 29 May 2008 22:32:00 GMT

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker — Dragon Roost Cavern

Generally speaking, I have as much disdain for the 3D Zelda games as I have love for their 2D predecessors. With some exceptions, they're tedious slogs of fetch questing, hand holding, and unskippable, unbearably patronizing prattle. ("You got a key! You can use it to open a door!") This subject tends to be a bone of contention between me and my esteemed colleague here at 61FPS, but one thing I have to concede to him is that the dungeon design in these games is usually pretty swell. For all of Wind Waker's faults, it has the virtue of being visually gorgeous, which is why its fire dungeon, Dragon Roost Cavern, beats out the dreary Fire Temple from Ocarina of Time. (Don't even get me started on Twilight Princess.) The dungeon's architecture and mood are admirably cohesive, too — you can almost feel the breezy air outside the volcano give way to a brutal dry heat within. And the boss is — no argument here — spectacular. You win this round, 3D Zelda. . . grumble, grumble. . . — PS

Silent Hill 2 — The Lakeview Hotel

Note: Spoilers. Not kidding.

The fire that destroys James and Mary Sunderland's "special place", the Lakeview Hotel, in Silent Hill 2 is seen for only the brief minutes in this clip. But that fire, burning between journeys through the hotel, pristine but abandoned, and later, charred and desiccated, is the conceptual core of Silent Hill 2's psychological quest for reconciliation. The game's world is not so much a tangible place but a physical manifestation of James Sunderland's trauma and guilt over euthanizing his cancer-stricken wife. This fire level, as it were, provides not only the compelling dual-environment the series is known for, but a startling visual metaphor to simultaneously represent the protagonist's inability to forgive himself and a purifying destruction on his road to peace. "It's hot," says James to Angela — who is, possibly, another facet of James' psyche — on the staircase. Her haunting reply: "You see it too. For me, it's always like this." James Sunderland burns, and you, his guide, burn with him in the Lakeview Hotel. — JC

Final Fantasy VI — The Burning House

Fire is omnipresent in role-playing games. Maybe it's the fantasist's fetish for elemental powers, but you can't spit without hitting something that casts fire spells, wields a flaming sword, is a fire demon, or by way of some curse or malady, happens to be on fire. For years, RPG fire environments tended towards volcanoes, towns burnt to the ground by angry villains, or caves of salamanders. Final Fantasy VI was one of the first RPGs to feature more expansive, scripted narrative scenarios — one of which used fire to create drama and urgency. In the middle of the night, your characters are woken to save a young girl from a burning house. The fire itself is alive, eating the house and taking the form of maniacally grinning jack-o-lantern bombs. The spectacle doesn't look like much fifteen years after it was made; the fire creatures are little more than orange blobs, the house is plain, and the flames licking the sides of the wall don't seem particularly threatening. But the scene itself subverts expectation and demands strategic gameplay. It's a perfect storm of aesthetics and mechanics, story and setting. — JC

Thunderforce III — Gorgon

For a shmup fire level, we could've gone with the opening area of Gradius II, or the impressive Stage 5 of Axelay. But true diehards know there's only one contender: the explosive Gorgon stage of cult Genesis shooter Thunderforce III. With an energizing soundtrack of catchy J-rock, and a dazzling wall of animated flame in the background, Gorgon throws the works at you as soon as you come in the door. Meteors, fireballs and plumes of lava — the stage is a pyrotechnic extravaganza and a showoffy highlight of this unsung classic. If you really want to admire Thunderforce III's design, revel in Gorgon's over-the-top spectacle, then proceed to the water stage, Seiren, and note how, without stepping down the difficulty, it suggests a vast, oceanic calm. But that's a subject for another list. — PS

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The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History, Part 2

Peter Smith — Thu, 29 May 2008 22:31:00 GMT

Resident Evil 2 — Raccoon City Streets

Hideki Kamiya followed the logical zombie progression after Shinji Mikami's original Resident Evil, going from the '50s schlock of a haunted mansion/mad-scientist's lab combo and straight onto the '60s of Romero-urban-zombie-apocalypse. Kamiya's sequel also had a novel twist on the dual protagonists of the first by making two slightly different quests for the heroes Claire and Leon. You know how zombie apocalypses work, right? When survivors need to stick together to survive, you separate them immediately. Resident Evil 2 opens with a tanker truck of gasoline exploding in downtown Raccoon City, with Claire and Leon stuck on either side of the ensuing blaze. When you finally start guiding your poorly equipped, clean-cut cop or street-smart biker chick through the undead, you do it in flames. And, yes. The zombies are totally on fire too. — JC

Metroid Series — Norfair

As far as distinctive game worlds go, Metroid's is hard to beat. Brinstar, Norfair and Tourian are unforgettably tangible, subterranean realms as hostile as they are sprawling. Amazing how much atmosphere the designers squeezed into eight bits, aided by Hip Tanaka's hypnotic soundtrack and the almost fluorescent black of the NES palette. As the game's resident heat zone, Norfair is an odd one — a disorienting, uneasy melange of lava, rock, metal and a weird bubbly substance that continues to freak me out. In its Super Metroid incarnation, Norfair is more cohesive and arguably more of a true "fire level," but for my money, it loses some of the truly alien quality of its NES counterpart. — PS

Mega Man 2 — Heat Man

The early Mega Man titles' greatest strength was not their lightning-fast take on Mario-style platforming or the novelty of acquiring physical abilities from antagonists. It was their ability to create spaces that were at once fantastical as well as functional. These arenas weren't built to superficially house a challenge; they were made to do things in the world of 200X. Even more so than Mega Man's Fire Man stage, Heat Man's stage is a furnace, a kiln of umber brick and steel silver floors that conveys a literal sense of oppressive heat. Even the stage's disappearing platforms of orange brick glow and look hot to touch. The music and challenge of playing the actual stage only emphasize its physicality. — JC

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The Ten Greatest Fire Levels in Gaming History, Part 1

Peter Smith — Thu, 29 May 2008 22:30:00 GMT

Videogame designers have found a great deal of inspiration in elemental dichotomies. Wood versus stone, wind versus lightning, ice versus fire — these natural conflicts are excellent bases for compelling environments and rich atmospheres. What better than tangible extremes like hot and cold to convey a sense of place to a player? To celebrate the imminent arrival of summer, 61 Frames Per Second is going hot with our first top-ten list, looking at the greatest fire levels in gaming history. If you're sweating, don't worry — we'll get to ice soon enough. — John Constantine

Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts — Crucible of Flame

Nobody would subject themselves to the brutally difficult Ghosts 'n Goblins series if the games didn't feature Capcom's usual immaculate production values. Dying a hundred times in Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts' third stage, the Crucible of Flame (and you will) is made marginally more bearable by the brooding music (forever seared in my brain after a misspent youth) and the characteristically idiosyncratic twist on the usual "fire level" theme: instead of a generic inferno, the Crucible of Flame finds you in some kind of metallurgical hell. The stage has a lot of character; as fire levels go, it's more of an oozing, molten nightmare than a pyrotechnic fun fair. (In fact, some would say there's nothing fun about it.) A word of warning: it only gets worse from here. — Peter Smith

Dracula X: Rondo of Blood — Dinner of Flames

The games in the original Castlevania trilogy all open with scenes of civilization. In the original, Simon Belmont approaches Dracula's titular castle via a gate on a road. The second finds Simon in the town of Jova, and Simon's ancestor Trevor passes through Wallachia Town and a cathedral at the opening of the third. All of these places feel oppressed by evil but, even when full of monsters, they've got a lurking malevolence. They're not overtly violent. The opening stage of Dracula X: Rondo of Blood, Dinner of Flames, is a different story entirely. Veros — a town neighboring Jova in Castlevania 2, for a nice garnish of continuity — is literally burning to the ground around Richter Belmont while the metal chords of "Divine Bloodlines" play in the background. The flames don't directly affect your passage here. They do, however, make the stage completely fucking sweet. — JC

F- Zero — Fire Field

When F-Zero first came out, its sense of speed was awesome, and nowhere more than in its ultimate track, Fire Field. If you made it through the fourteen previous tracks, you might — just might — have the skill to make it through this godless collection of hairpin turns, speed traps and exploding mines. The soundtrack matched the intensity of the track layout, with one of the game's most memorable hard-rock grooves. Some would argue that the "fieryness" of Fire Field is purely incidental, with no direct relevance to gameplay. But as a thought experiment, imagine Fire Field as a frozen wonderland, or a barren ocean. Not quite the same. No, there's a distinctly combustive quality to this level, as any King League veteran would be quick to tell you. — PS

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GamesRadar IDs The Worst Celebrity Renders Of All Time

Peter Smith — Mon, 19 May 2008 18:00:00 GMT

One from the "Wish We'd Thought Of That" department: the good people at GamesRadar have compiled a downright frightening list of the worst celebrity renders of all time. Your favorite stars, ghoulishly reduced to polygons and pixels. Go and be entertained, but make sure there are no children in the room.