A Mario Movie Review (from an Only Sort of Biased Source)

Guys… The Super Mario Movie is great!

I will admit, I had my doubts about the venture when it was first announced back in 2018, but it’s come so far. 

Let me explain my apprehension a little. If you’re a fan of animated movies like I am, you can maybe understand why my heart sank to hell when I saw the news that Illumination would be the one producing and animating the Mario movie. 

“Oh, come on!” I thought, “Why is Nintendo trusting something so big to the people that did The Minions Movie?!?” 

And it’s not just because of Illumination’s track record for making cringy, ultra-childish movies that inspired my worry. They are also notorious for cutting corners in the animation process in order to reduce production costs and maximize profit. All of this not to mention the irritation I felt when the cast was announced and it featured big-name Hollywood actors like Chris Pratt instead of real voice actors (though I will admit, I was excited when they announced Jack Black as Bowser). 

What I’m saying is, in my eyes, The Mario Movie had just about everything stacked against it. And yet, it managed to pull off something I feared was impossible. 

The very first trailer is where I knew I was in for a treat. To see Bowser’s castle, looming and terrifyingly realized in such a beautiful animation style, to see jokes and gags that were actually funny and didn’t rely on soon-to-be-dated pop culture references, to hear even a hint of that classic Mario soundtrack… I actually felt chills. 

Now, several months later, I have watched the full thing, and I can say, it more than exceeded my expectations. I won’t be giving a plot summary, I genuinely feel that if you are a Mario fan or even a fan of animation, you should check it out for yourself, but I will talk about some general aspects that made it so enjoyable for me. 

The film had a heartfelt earnestness that something like Mario really needs. There were no wink-and-nod moments to the audience about how silly or strange the idea of this video-gamey world is like some other movies might have (Ready Player One’s film adaption is kinda coming to mind for me here), the world was unapologetically colorful, lively, and so very Mario that every single frame and scene left a smile on my face. The characters were also a joy to see fully realized on the big screen. And this almost goes without saying, but Jack Black absolutely stole the show as Bowser. Charlie Day as Luigi was also a pretty stand-out performance. And the music! Composer Brian Tyler did a phenomenal job taking Koji Kondo’s original game melodies and orchestrating them into fitting themes for a feature film (though I will share a complaint that I wish in the final product, Illumination didn’t replace some of the original score with licensed songs like “Take on Me” by a-Ha). I think I even heard an original motif for Mario that Tyler made himself.   

I have been a huge Mario fan since I was a child watching my older brother play Super Mario Sunshine on the Gamecube. It might sound childish, but I hold Mario, his friends, and the Mushroom Kingdom so near and dear to my heart. The movie reminded me of those childhood days spent jumping and playing in the Mushroom Kingdom, and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.  

In Defense of the CD: A Relic of the Past

Over winter break, in an effort to do some decluttering, I stumbled upon my old, black CD-ROM bookbinder. Pages and pages were filled with CDs containing the names of my childhood heroes: Putt Putt, Pajama Sam, Freddi Fish, and Spy Fox. These games, made by Humongous Entertainment, combined puzzles, animation, and educational content (though it never seemed like it) into a wonderful work of art. Through the games’ adventurous, yet challenging gameplay, I learned complex concepts such as telling time and physics. Instantly, I desired to see if the games still worked, seeing as they were at least 15 years old. 

I sprinted to my mom’s computer (because CD slots on Macbooks are obsolete) and chose my first victim–Freddi Fish: The Case of the Stolen Conch Shell. To my disappointment, I was met with a popup explaining that the computer cannot play 16-bit games. However, the desire for nostalgia was too great to quit, so I picked up the next game–Freddi Fish: The Case of the Creature of Coral Cove, and to my surprise…the old rectangular starting screen popped up! 

For as long as I can remember, CD games have always held a special place in my heart because they were the first type of video game format I was ever introduced to. CDs are unique because they capture a moment in time; there are no updates or game pack expansions. Because of this, CDs can preserve what was visually and aesthetically capable for the game at the time of its creation. I was hit in the face with this fact when, upon pressing “Play” for my Freddi Fish game, a popup asked if I was able to “connect to the internet with a modem” or, if not, directed me to register with a “mail-in card.” Without CDs, much is to be forgotten about the ways past games used to function as we take for granted the ease of access to video games that we have now. 

Additionally, because CDs are physical objects which must be put into a computer to be played, it is incredibly important to protect their exteriors. Admittedly, discs scratch way too easily (especially in the hands of a clumsy five-year-old); however, those who value the games that these disks contain learn quickly to cherish them. Because of this, CDs become sacred objects to be protected. If we are to think of these discs as “holy objects,” then dusting them off and flipping through one’s CD collection can be regarded as a ritualistic experience (bet you didn’t think you’d be hit in the face with this deep metaphor today). Unlike modern downloadable games which cannot be easily broken, CD games hold higher stakes because of their fragility, making them more valuable.

Another upside to physical copies of video games is that they often foster a form of community between players. Although these educational adventure games were primarily single-player, I’d often loan my discs to friends who wished to play the game too. This sort of sharing is impossible to do with purchased downloadable games as the game is downloaded onto a single computer, unable to be transferred among devices that don’t belong to the user who bought the game.

Although we often see popular media adapted into video games, as with Lord of the Rings Online or Marvel’s Spiderman video game, these CD games experienced the opposite phenomenon. Because children grew obsessed with the video game’s characters, they also fell in love with their stories and lore. Logically, figurines and books were then created, such as Putt-Putt Lost in Time which took the CD characters and expanded on stories seen in the video games. As more and more fascination around these games grew, other unrelated companies wanted in on the action. Cereal companies, such as General Mills and Kellogg’s, began including CDs, including Humongous Entertainment games, inside of their boxes as an incentive to buy their cereal (I miss the days when cereal box prizes were actually this good). 

Photo from user
u/pezhead53 on Reddit

As I grew up and fell away from the game’s age range, so did technology, making CD games virtually unplayable nowadays (no pun intended). Although Humongous Entertainment has converted its games into versions that can now be bought digitally, the nostalgia these games emit is lessened. Seeing the juxtaposition of the pixelated graphics on my HD computer feels ingenuine and, to continue with my previous metaphor, sacrilegious. 

Others, like myself, turn back to the discs (at least the ones that still work) rather than newer versions of the games for pure nostalgia alone. In fact, the other day, a TikTok by user Ricky Peacock shared a video of himself playing a Putt Putt game, emphasizing the fact that although he hadn’t played this game since he was a child, he still remembers trivial aspects of the game, such as the “wagon wheels” treats.  

While there are many downsides to CDs, including their fragility, incompatibility with newer computers, and environmental impact, they still hold many redeemable qualities that shouldn’t be overlooked. While it may be true that I’m being blinded by the nostalgia of my childhood games, I believe CDs hold an inherent value when discussing the history and future of video games. Whether or not we see game developers shift towards offering their games in a disc format, I think it’s still comforting to know that my old playthroughs still exist somewhere on my treasured CDs, uncorrupted and archived in history, even if I can’t open them anymore. I just hope I managed to spell my name right on the save file!

– Marissa Tessier

Reminiscing in Winterspring: Video Games and Nostalgia

When I was around 10 years old, I made my first character in World of Warcraft. She was a night elf hunter with a pet cat who was excited to learn a lot and explore the world. A few weeks ago, around 10 years after I had created my first WoW character, I made a new night elf character and returned to the starting zone: Shadowglen. When I saw the architecture and nature in Shadowglen (years after I had last looked at it), I was surprised by how overwhelmed with emotions and memories I felt. I seemed to take a real time machine back to the past, back to when I was 10 years old and playing my first night elf character. I remembered some of the thoughts that 10-year-old me had and I remembered the room that I had been playing the game in (a room that I had otherwise forgotten about).

The architecture and nature in Shadowglen

I haven’t experienced anything else that can take me right back to vivid memories the way a game can, and, more specifically, the way World of Warcraft can. I have returned to meaningful places in real life after leaving for a few years, and I have unlocked memories and felt a strong sense of nostalgia, but World of Warcraft has allowed me to get this experience on an even deeper level without any plane tickets. Because my favorite places in World of Warcraft look exactly the same as they looked when I visited them in the game a number of years ago, I find that the feeling of nostalgia is even more powerful.

Shadowglen was the beginning of my World of Warcraft journey, so it holds a lot of sentimental value to me, but the location in WoW where I feel the strongest sense of nostalgia is in Winterspring. When I play video games involving a vast virtual world, one of my favorite things to do is explore and see all of the different territories. One day, I felt inspired to walk around one of the WoW continents, and on my journey I came across Winterspring. Since my favorite place to be in real life is in the snowy mountains, I was immediately drawn to Winterspring and the beauty of it. I visited everyday to unlock the Winterspring Frostsaber mount, and therefore created a lot of memories in this zone. 

The mountains and the moon in Winterspring

Visiting Winterspring reminds me of my sophomore year of high school, and how I’d explore the snowy tundra of Winterspring after getting home from a cold and rainy soccer practice. Doing the Battle for Azeroth dungeons reminds me of days when I felt lonely quarantining during COVID, and how running dungeons with strangers made me feel more connected to others. Having my pandaren swim in the lake near Pearlfin Village reminds me of the memories I have questing with my boyfriend over winter break, which was something fun we could do together when the holiday break prevented us from being together in person. 

Many people think of games as simply a form of entertainment, but over the years I have realized how powerful they can be, and the nostalgic sense they provide is just one of the reasons. If I didn’t have the nostalgic connection to World of Warcraft that I created during my childhood, I would only play it every once in a while as a form of entertainment, like I do with a lot of games. But because I developed a connection to it, I can play it when I need an escape from stress and can feel like I’m traveling back to a simpler time. If you have children or want to have children, I urge you to let them and even encourage them to play their game (at least every once in a while), because that connection with the game will build a sense of comfort that will last them a lifetime.

-Kaitlyn Bushey

A Farewell to Flash – The Games That Shaped a Generation

In the olden days of 1996, Adobe released Flash Player, a software intended for web graphics and animations, but in 2000, it got its own programming language. With this, developers were able to use Flash as a game development software and post their projects on sites such as Newgrounds, Addicting Games, Kongregate, Miniclip, Armor Games, and tons more. It was a metaphorical wild west of game development, and I’ll be honest, a lot of these games were…

• 

  “Frodo Vs Stick” (2003)

• 

  “Star Wars Dressup Yoda” (2007)

• 

  “Donkey Kong 64 000” (2012)

…let’s just say of varying quality.

For real, though, I’d wager a fair amount of these games were made over a day or two, but honestly, that didn’t matter. To a kid who didn’t own a console or have a particularly powerful computer, flash games were a godsend. All you had to do was click a button, and boom – literally thousands of games at your fingertips. Accessibility was key here, and back in the 2009 to 2012 era, flash games reigned supreme.

Fancy Pants, Doodle God, Red Remover, There is Only One Level, Fireboy and Watergirl, and like eighty different games where you rode a dirt bike – all of these were outwardly very simple and ran on one mechanic, yet they did that one thing very well.

Holding in the mouse raises the helicopter and releasing lowers it. You move from left to right. In other words, it’s Flappy Bird, only it came out nearly a decade earlier.

Fancy Pants was probably the best platformer that released in 2006. I’m still stunned by many of the creations made in Line Rider, and you can’t tell me the Age of War 2 soundtrack doesn’t get you hype.

Even going beyond the internet, many of these flash games grew to be so popular that they received commercial releases, such as VVVVVV and Super Meat Boy.

But why mention this now?

Well, to top off the fun-fun-fun year that has been 2020, Adobe is ending support for Flash. This isn’t a new reveal, having been announced back in 2017. You see, the number of players on Flash game websites has been declining and fewer and fewer games have been made in Flash since 2012. The rise of the iPhone did contribute to the decline of Flash, but ultimately, the internet just became a different place that had to support a wide variety of different devices. Flash isn’t needed anymore.

So, when I first heard Flash was losing its support, at first I thought, “Well, this is it. Set the countdown for doomsday, everyone,” and dreaded the end of 2020. I was afraid that games I played ever since I was a kid would completely disappear. But then I found this video, and suffice it to say, I think we’ll be fine. The massive archival project Flashpoint has already amassed over 59,000 Flash games that you can play whenever, and that’s pretty rad.

Yeah, it doesn’t have the same level of convenience, but I’m more than satisfied just knowing they’re not being abandoned. I’ll miss ya, Flash. Thanks for 24 good years.

“It was a magical time of experimentation and a lot of goofing off with friends found over the Internet. The moment was especially ideal for newcomers and outsiders, who now had a low barrier to entry and no industry gatekeeping. The joy of that era embodies what Newgrounds seeks to achieve to this very day; a place where people with no experience can learn, create and share wonderful things together.”

Tom Fulp, Founder of Newgrounds

Targeting the Young: The Legacy of a Generation Raised on Online Gaming

Image from poptropica.com

I know I cannot be the only person who regularly thinks back to the time in my childhood when the realm of online games was in its prime. The golden age of the early 2000’s was characterized by internet gems such as Club Penguin, Webkinz, Fantage, ToonTown, Wizard101, and Poptropica, need I say more? If you, like me were just hit by a nostalgic flashback (That’s So Raven style) at the mention of those names, you know what I am talking about. This era of massively multiplayer online games (MMOs) geared towards children was a time to be alive and dare I say the kids now are missing out on a ton of fun given most of these online platforms have been shut down or abandoned. However, one that still remains innovative to this day is Poptropica, which is what I want to discuss. Why was Poptropica so popular when it first came out and how does it maintain this legacy today?

When I set out to answer this question, I took the time to do a little digging which had never mattered much to me when I was younger. To my surprise, I found out that Poptropica was made by Diary of a Wimpy Kid author Jeff Kinney and was developed by Pearson Education’s Family Education Network. Of course, when finding this out it all made sense—the complex storylines, whacky cartoon characters, silly names, and bright colors that speak to kids in all the right ways. But why were we all hooked and running back to this game?

In-game screenshot of my character Shiny Crush embarking on an adventure in 24 Carrot Island

In-game screenshot of the mayor of 24 Carrot Island lamenting the disappearance of their carrots

I think it has much to do with the intricate narratives and types of community the game presented. Unlike many adult MMOs, this game was being played by large groups of kids who knew each other before entering the game. My sister, my neighbor, and I all would all huddle around one computer and set a timer to take turns completing islands and earning medallions. It quickly became a competition to see who could complete an island the fastest by themselves without looking up a walkthrough (I used the walkthroughs the most, I admit it). I think this large physical player base created small close-knit communities of kids who played before, after, and even during school.

In-game screenshot of a local farmer explaining the dilemma I am tasked to solve

However, the narrative driven side of the game allows for a rich single player gameplay. Every island can be completed without the need of help from other players. When first logging on and entering the game space, you can only see your player on the screen as well as the computer-generated characters. It isn’t until you enter a specific building on the island that you are visible and can interact with other players. A distinct separation of individual and community spaces gives players the choice to determine their level of anonymity and engagement with others; this is a luxury not afforded to all players in other online multiplayer games. I think this is especially important for children who need a realm of safety and ability to disconnect from other players.

In-game screenshot of Shiny Crush in a local arcade room

The creation of these “arcades” and “common rooms” on every island harbors connections between random players through mini games and pre-generated conversation text bubbles. In return, the diversity of interaction between avatars offers a game experience tailored to a variety of different types of players. It suits the social butterfly who is always hanging around the arcade waiting to play mini-games, the sleuth who goes from island to island seeking to solve every mystery alone, and the player just looking for a good time.

In-game screenshot of the Island map

Poptropica has stood the test of time and still remains playable unlike many of its online platform friends. The rotation of islands is ever-changing, and the puzzle storylines remain challenging even for adults (I logged on the other day and I had to look up a walkthrough again, old habits never die I guess).  If you are looking to revive old memories or are just interested in checking out this rich world full of whimsical storylines and adventures, I urge you to log onto Poptropica and give it a chance, you won’t be disappointed!

“Charm” in Video Games: Necessary or Nostalgia?

Last week, I read donovansimon03’s blog about Call of Duty, the video game franchise that I am most familiar with. His insights on the relationship between campaign and multiplayer in those games is something that I’ve noticed as well, and his blog helped spark my thinking on the topic.

My very long comment on his post discussed the campaign versus multiplayer debate in COD, but I also expressed my admiration for the games of my younger childhood. Nostalgia is one of the very few universal feelings: whether for games, movies, or really anything at all, we view the past favorably.

Nostalgia is obviously a form of bias, and I think we’ve all gotten better at recognizing and accounting for our own biases in the past couple of months. Even before that, I considered objectivity a strength of mine, so it’s fair to say that I am confident in my ability to at the very least acknowledge my biases.

Yet, I struggle when it comes to video games. I have several games that I truly love, but the two that rise above are Halo: Reach and COD Black Ops. These games both came out in late 2010 (which is already 10 years ago!) when I was just eight, and I have played countless hours of both since then. Every time I boot up Halo: Reach on my old XBOX 360, I literally get goosebumps from the opening sequence. The music, the surprisingly not-outdated graphics, and the prospect of diving back into another campaign play-through bring memories of coming home from school to play with my brother flooding back. A similar effect occurs when I reach the famous BO1 menu screen.

The main menu in Halo: Reach. Click on this link to experience the music and ambience: https://halome.nu/reach

For lack of a better word, the reason that this happens is because of these games’ charm: the unquantifiable combination of narrative, mythos, gameplay, and audio-visual aesthetic. Whereas gameplay is probably the most important aspect of deciding how good a game is, it holds less weight for me in determining charm, which is what makes a game great. 

Two perfect examples of this are the two most recent COD games. COD Black Ops 4, which came out in 2018, obviously represents a huge improvement in terms of gameplay and technology when compared to BO1, but nearly everyone dislikes the game. Why? A lack of charm. BO4 is hugely handicapped because it doesn’t have a campaign, which rips away the important factors of narrative and mythos. Without any backing, any legitimacy, the multiplayer experience is even more detached and repetitive than usual (see donovansimon03’s post and my comment on it for more elaboration on this point). COD Modern Warfare, which came out in 2019, was a revolutionary COD game. The gameplay and audio-visual advancements blow every other COD out of the water. Despite this, it lacks charm.

Nuketown, the iconic map from COD Black Ops 1

This brings me to my next point. For such a good game as MW 2019, how can it not be great? This is where I question my theory of charm versus nostalgia. I’m willing to believe that BO4 is objectively a worse game than BO1, but it’s truly hard for me to say the same about MW 2019. In 2030, will the 18 year olds that played MW 2019 as kids view it in the same light that I see my childhood games? The answer is likely yes. Nostalgia is so powerful, so immutable that it seeps into our brains and distorts our perception of the world even when we know it’s there.

Do I still think that BO1 and Halo: Reach are better games than BO4 and MW 2019? Yes. Do I still think that “charm” is the biggest factor that takes a game from good to great? Yes. Do I understand that “charm” is mostly just nostalgia in disguise? Yes. Do these things contradict? Of course. While we all take video games—and life—very seriously at times, we have to remember that sometimes contradictions are okay, and that we don’t always have to be ruthless in our understanding of the world. Let nostalgia in. Feel the goosebumps when you play your childhood game. And savor it all.

Pokemon Go Ruined Pokemon for Me

As a young child, I was part of the generation that was swept up with the original Pokemon. I had dozens of cards which I kept pristine in a collectors book, and I had tiny little action figures of Ash and Misty which I played with while I cuddled with Togepi, a stuffed version of an egg creature from Pokemon, who trilled when squeezed.

(photo credit: amazon.com)

I was obsessed with Pokemon, but there was one problem, I was not allowed to watch it. My parents were very strict about what I was allowed to watch, and Pokemon did not make the cut as it held no educational value. So I played with the merchandise but never saw the original source, and as time went on, I moved on to other toys.

Fast forward over a decade later, and I read an article about a new Pokemon game coming to my phone, where I can catch Pokemon in real life! I downloaded it as soon as it was available, and I was overwhelmed with nostalgia as I watched the Pokeball bounce around on the loading screen. I was a bit nostalgia-drunk from the experience, and realizing that I am now an adult who can do whatever I like (haha not really), I decided to finally watch the original show that had been banned to me all those years ago. Netflix had caught on the trend so the entire original series was available to watch on the platform. So I popped some popcorn and settled in for what I expected to be a pleasant experience dripping with nostalgia. As the title song played, I nodded along smiling. As the show progressed, the smile slowly faded, and even nostalgia could not save it.

I hated it. That’s right. I hated the show. The Pokemon were extremely cute, but I could not help but cringe as they were forced to fight each other, often resulting in an injury severe enough to land them in a Poke-Hospital. These cute little creatures were captured only after they had been weakened by battle, and they sat in a Pokeball until the Pokemon master let them out to fight other Pokemon. If these had been animals, I would have called the police for animal cruelty. Indeed, what I felt like I was watching was the equivalent of cartoon dog fights. Even though it was entirely fictional, I couldn’t help but feel sick on how the Pokemon were treated, and how they still were so loyal to the person who captured them.

I cried watching the show. Yes I admit it. It may seem ridiculous, but this scene (starting at 8:45) had me balling like a baby. I quit watching the show soon after.

The Pokemon Go game lost all appeal to me soon after. I admired the concept, but every time I caught a Pokemon, I saw poor Charmander desperately trying to keep his flame dry while waiting in the rain for the master who abandoned him (if Charmander’s flame goes out he dies). So ended my love affair with Pokemon, my quest for nostalgia brought on by Pokemon Go only lead to pain and disappointment.