Just one of the infinite possible round-table discussions between Lucasfilm and Namco that brought Darth Vader and Yoda back in time to the 16th century in Soul Calibur IV, newly released to a hungry, fighter-playing public. It was either this, or Street Fighter IV–not that it would have been any stranger a candidate for the cameo appearances. Ultimately, Namco isn’t alone–the orbit of the Mortal Kombat universe will, somehow, soon eclipse that of DC Comics, rending holes in the very fabric of logic itself.

It’s all a little hard to take.. but may I proceed to admit that the fans will love it? The culmination in a quartet renowned for its flash (and flesh), SoulCalibur IV (if you’re lucky enough to get what I like to call the “Special Tin Edition”) includes memorabilia like a comic book and wet-erase tournament leaderboard to commemorate the occasion of its release. And it’s a good game, too–I’ve seen it first-hand, and SoulCalibur, being at least 50% about looks, and about 50% of that being how good the characters look, delivers again on both counts. On PS3, from the time you boot to the crazily cinematic intro, to the time you create a character in the enormously-expanded Creation Mode, to the time you take them into battle, everything is stylish and smooth.

If you’ve liked it so far, you’re going to like it again.

Let’s make no mistake, here–ever since their move from collapsed arcade scene to consumer electronics, Midway has been much maligned, more or less worldwide, and in every conceivable way. Whether it was children’s protection agencies lobbying congress to ban Mortal Kombat or the unanimous panning of their every new release by the critical pen, not to mention the scorn of the entire nation of Japan, it’s kind of a wonder that Midway is still faring reasonably well. Personally, I never had a gripe with them, but it’s pretty bad when a company fires one of their own for discussing the bugs in one of their games. C’mon, it’s not as if the rest of us are too stupid to notice game-crashing bugs and sloppy programming.

That said, once in a long, long while, someone gets sick of it and decides to do something about it. Like esteemed action director John Woo, who descended upon Midway with guns blazing and doves flapping–and from the wreckage of clipped polygons and frozen screens, there would emerge an appealing third-person shooter, rife with theft from Max Payne but still distinctly Hong Kong, Chow Yun Fat, and fun: Stranglehold. For those with no action-film background whatsoever, the PS3 Collector’s Edition of Stranglehold, seen here, includes a full copy of Hard Boiled, the movie to which the game acts as spiritual sequel. The Xbox 360 version omits the movie in favor of behind-the-scenes ‘Making Of’ footage, taken straight from the voice acting floor. (The movie kicks ass, by the way).

In summary: Inspector Tequila. Cop killers. Lots of diving, dodging and log-rolling. Some competent graphic artistry one moment, some really stiff pouring of stiff drinks the next. That’s Midway for you, but Stranglehold is still true to its name in how it will hook you.

One of 2003’s–and indeed, the last console generation’s–top-rated games overall was Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. Not so much a revival of its age-old PC namesake as a reinvention of it, Sands of Time was handed to Ubisoft Montreal to be brought, scimitar-slashing, wall-running, and pole-vaulting, all the way into a new age.

Sometimes lovingly abbreviated to PoP (possibly appended with SoT now that there’s three), there’s nary a crack in the platforming action on the whole, nor in the professionally-executed visuals and audio on any given hardware (although some scratchy-making compression surfaces in the Gamecube and PS2 versions). But more than anything, the ability to turn those titular sands back–to the moment before that missed leap of faith, or before you caught that dagger with your face, or before any death you would have rather defied–was PoP’s most touted feature. When we’re talking about trapeze artistry in a sultan’s crumbling palace, dealing with newly-undead guards en masse, and mind-bending puzzle-solving as the primary makeup of the game, we’re talking about one handy rewind.

Prince of Persia takes the fairy-tale quality of a pre-modern Middle East and produces a rock-solid experience with affable characters, a wistful plot, a rockin’, sitar-happy soundtrack, and great gameplay.

RPGs, which spin the threads of magic lands, mighty mortals, and omnipotent gods, and Norse mythology, also spinning threads of magic lands, mighty mortals, and omnipotent gods, were a no-brainer to wed in digital matrimony. This is what tri-Ace thought when making Valkyrie Profile for PSX in 2000–that, and that they’d like to make a chef d’oeuvre that was not only a particularly beautiful game–its bright, glossy, hand-drawn visuals the envy of many a storybook, and its music a veritable symphony from the warbling winds section of Motoi Sakuraba–but one that would work the 32-bitter so hard as to blow the lid off the CD tray. It had an active combat system you simply could not mash-advance; nor would you want to, as it featured dynamic scaling and screen-razing spell effects, and deeply-involving mechanics. Seriously ambitious, the 2-disc’er was the grandiose production that sowed the seeds of Odin Sphere and other small miracles of Japanese, but not-quite-animé 2-D.

Nowadays you would have to eBay the original for over $100. Nowadays you should have a PSP and be able to get Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth here for less than half that price. With added cutscenes and a heightened probability that it won’t kill the console running it. What will you do?

There are those who can afford to drive, those who can’t, and those who just can’t drive anything that isn’t on a screen in third-person view. If only driving tests were done in a game–a fantastically unrealistic game, where every motorist drives a Ferrari or a lemon to show off the Ferraris; where you take only the most picturesque coastal road, then mountain trail, then Roman Coliseum in unlikely succession; where you get points and whoops of joy from your passenger for making the widest turns possible; and, while most crashes flip your convertible about 10 feet straight into the air, where the driver remains snugly seated and along with the vehicle, perfectly unharmed.

Oh, and there would be so many more tests than just driving–memory, arithmetic, behind-the-wheel photography, heart-collecting for some reason… and they’d all give you fireworks, new cars, new music, and new items in your gallery every time you did really well.

If they had such a test, I suspect it might look a little something..

Like this.

Yoshi’s Island DS may be best known as the sequel to the SNES masterwork Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island, but the Artoon-developed title’s ravenous, soul-smothering difficulty soon earned it a reputation of its own. Safeguarding the biggest mascots in video gaming is not for the faint-hearted–it’s a million baby-killers to one baby-sitter. Including levels engineered to abet your demise, there’s a deceptive duality about this killer bedtime story, so don’t be fooled.

Anyway, after your inevitable, repeated ego-maimings, you’re going to need soft and cuddly–or, when the animal side gets the better of you, light and launchable–consolation. As a rare treat from me to you, here’s a link to one of the brave Yoshis willing to share your burdens.

I think we need a motto for this blog. How about, “ButtonSmasher: Where we cover puzzle games in overabundance–and still barely keep up with their rate of production”? Or, “ButtonSmasher: Seemingly obsessed with puzzle games, but such is the industry”?

There really are a lot of plotless, casual-seeming puzzlers out there–so many that you might be avoiding them. Well, stop cheating yourself. The always-affordable, habit-forming yet short-term commitment material of puzzle game is easy pickin’s on a slim wallet and slimmer free time. And if you find the right ones, you’ll be endlessly entertained.

As for the objects for your fickle flights of fancy, Lumines is a pretty clean prospect–its presentation and gameplay pulsate with elegant and stylish rhythm and geometry. Then there’s the more child- and forever-young- friendly Bust-A-Move, a colourful, yet tough bubble-stacking game and test of precision aiming that may threaten to tell a story.

Exit, Taito’s non-dinosaurian attempt at boggling your mind, delivers a little more sophistication–placing you squarely in the middle of escape after great fire escape, you rescue those less fortunate than the aptly-monikered Mr. Esc.

Puzzle game coverage on ButtonSmasher. Proud product of one student’s emaciated wallet and small circle of moochable friends.

While I’m a bare initiate into the world of pen-and-paper games, they and the video variety cross paths often enough for some knowledge to rub off on me through sheer exposure. Just so happens, I’ve gotten to know more about a little game called Hunter through its 2002 cross-platform incarnation, Hunter: The Reckoning. Whipped up by the supposedly most successful outfit outside of D&D, this game trades the genre’s usual medieval colours for the pop-mythos of werewolves, vampires, and the other staple members of the devil’s bestiary. Not only that, but they’re coming straight from the pen–they were bad in life, you see, and in death, they supply fodder for the Hunters (that’s you), whose objective it is to rid the world of its vengeful repeat visitors. In the translation to a video game, White Wolf Studios has taken Hunter down a most appropriate route: mission-oriented hack ‘n slash, with selectable characters for one-to-four players. At its heart, it’s a button-mashing massacre, but Hunter keeps from getting stale with separate combat systems for melee, ranged weapons, and magic skills, the acquisition of stats with experience, and regular cinematic interludes delivering a mature and imaginative plot.Semi-mindless fun, especially with a partner in tow, Hunter is sure to please fans of Diablo and its ilk, but beware: killing is a known issue with the undead. A game best played knowing you’ll get your ass beat.

Oh meaningless, meaningless puns… you make my posts get done, my paycheck arrive, my world go round. If only BandaiNamco Games hadn’t called their DS puzzler something as techno-babble as Trioncube, I would have to practice a little something called legitimate journalism. No matter–a game that animates an inter-dimensional rocket penguin as a progress marker doesn’t take itself that seriously, anyway. It’s the amusing barrage of space-nursery imagery on the top screen that gives Trioncube its winsome cuteness factor; the falling space matter on the bottom gives it the quality, not-a-Tetris-clone factor.

The object here is to place each falling piece such that it forms a 3×3 square with existing pieces. A single square’s difference will do. But it’s not that simple–the object also must be observed for as many drops as possible to build a sufficient chain, turning your stack into rocket-bird feed. One false move, and your would-be gold octane might become bronze.

Gravity is at work here, but so is time–until atmospheric pressure (or whatever that shaking is) becomes too great and spoils your chain, you can finalize the placement of a piece, flipping and all. That’s a new one for me.

Finally, Trioncube balances easy-fun, appealing-cute, and fierce-competitive in multiplayer, so you don’t even mind terribly if you lose. Everyone’s a winner with a game like Trioncube.

If you’re a gamer bound to leave the worlds projected by a tube onto glass for the real deal later this year, you’ll surely have some conflicted feelings. Here, let me explain my reasoning: Megaman 9 comes out in Japan in September. I think that’s sufficient reason to want to lug your Wii far and wide… but what about if your destination lacks a television? And is it really worth playing away your vacation when the real world has so much left to offer?

Here we go: Intec’s 7″ Portable Gaming Screen for Wii. A screen small enough to occupy air volume in the smallest of cars during the longest of travel times, enabling you to happily play over the long, dull stretches of unspoiled countryside. While I may drip sarcasm, I loved bringing my Sega Game Gear (and stealing my brother’s Game Boy) in the family car, playing before and after the deal was done… it holds a large place in my memory of all my happiest trips. Games made it so I wasn’t one of those ‘are-we-there-yet?’ kids, nor would I be one of those post-vacation depressives–I just turned on some Sonic, and wherever I was, there he’d be.

Playstation One had a similar screen, but it lacked anything but RPGs and they’re just not car material. One of these babies and a couple battery packs, and you’re set to see the worlds through the LCD looking-glass until you get wherever you’re going.