Hop to it!

As if bomb squads don’t have a hard enough time, Jumpman is tasked in this platform game with defusing bombs in Jupiter Headquarters, a place that clearly needs a serious heath and safety check. Precarious platforms and all manner of hazards await our athletic chum in this dated, playable and frequently frustrating platform game.

With Jumpman originally arriving on 8-bit computers in the early 1980s, it’s not much to look at, and the sound is guff, but designer Randy Glover had a wicked sense of humour and a real sense for level design. Therefore, each of the 30 levels brings its own set of dangers, such as ledges that vanish once you defuse a bomb, UFOs that dart around the screen, and manic robots hell-bent on killing you in the face. Also, when you inevitably come a cropper and tumble down the platforms to your untimely demise (and a jolly, slightly sarcastic rendition of the death march), you still defuse bombs that you bump into and can therefore sometimes complete a level during your dying moments, which is a nice touch.

Aside from poor aesthetics, niggles with Jumpman largely relate to some screens being absurdly difficult and controls being twitchy on the faster levels. However, if you can put yourself in the mind of a 1980s gamer—it was a time when gamers were real men: hardcore, but with mullets—you’ll find Jumpman a compelling, challenging, and occasionally maddening game.

Jumpman is available now for 500 Wii points (about £3.50). It’s tough, so wimpy gamers need not apply. Mullets, however, are optional.

Ignoring the ladder entirely, our hero aimed for the bomb by leaping majestically.

Hiiiiyaaaaaaaaaaa!

Once upon a time, all fighting games were about Eastern pyjama-wearing gents kicking each-other in the face. They were sedate affairs, based on tactics and cunning, epitomised by Melbourne House’s Way of the Exploding Fist. And then IK+ arrived, blowing everything else out of the water.

On the surface little had changed: there was an extra fighter and a prettier backdrop. But having that extra competitor on-screen transformed the fighting genre, turning the sedate into the frenetic, ensuring the player rarely got a chance to catch their breath.

In today’s market, IK+ looks blocky and dated. The C64’s graphics lack the charm of a Pac-Man or a Mario and the definition of a Spectrum title. But the animation is fluid, and the collision detection spot-on.

Importantly, though, the gameplay still shines through after over two decades. Moves are carefully assigned to logical control positions, making fights intuitive and instinctive, rather than a memory test. And with its combination of varied opponent styles (they change every level), frantic bonus game (deflect bouncing balls with a shield) and its lack of button-mashing, this classic from yesteryear genuinely manages to give most of its modern equivalents a thoroughly good kicking.

IK+ is available now on Virtual Console for 500 Wii points (£3.50ish). If you think that’s too much for a 21-year-old game, more fool you.

Old man speak wisely. Red player can’t even tie belt properly.

Not at all dreadful, but, er, ‘Dredd-full’. (Oh dear.)

I don’t usually review single issues of comics, but with the Judge Dredd Megazine seemingly having its 50th or so revamp in its (almost) 18-year history (next month, it’ll be old enough to drink beer), I figured I’d make an exception.

The Megazine now comes bagged—something I find a hateful proposition—and has had two quid added to its price tag, but bad feelings are tempered somewhat by the contents of said bag. First up, the Megazine itself, which is—for the time being—finally devoid of reprint. The most notable addition to the line-up is Tank Girl, by original scribe Alan Martin and relative newcomer Rufus Dayglo. This irreverent, punky tale feels right at home in a 2000 AD title: Martin’s fun, explosive script is a real blast, and Dayglo’s somewhat retro artwork evokes the best of classic 2000 AD art, while also channelling a little Jamie Hewlett.

Elsewhere, playfulness is also evident in most of the Dreddworld strips. Female PSI Judge Anderson rummages around virtual realities, aided by an AI that resembles a levitating blue ape, while Tales from the Black Museum offers a wickedly dark take on the pressures of coming up with new fads—something exacerbated by the gnat-like attention spans of Mega-City One’s population.

The issue’s sore thumb is, oddly, Judge Dredd, whose Wagner-scripted story, Ratfink, showcases a villain so downright nasty and an outlook so miserable (it’s set in the barren Cursed Earth desert, at night, in the pouring rain) that you can’t help feeling glad the other strips are there to cheer you up afterwards. That said, Dredd is the perfect antidote to too much ‘happy’, and proves that anthologies can pack punches from several directions, rather than banging the same old drum.

Elsewhere, the closure of Extreme Edition, 2000 AD’s reprint title, means reprint has shifted to what’s touted as a ‘graphic novel’ bagged with the Megazine. In reality, this is a 64-page comic, styled to resemble Rebellion’s line of 2000 AD trades, but with noticeably thinner paper. The first collection compiles a selection of Jock-illustrated Dredd strips, offering a fascinating insight into the evolution of one of the best artists in the business. Some of the tales aren’t exactly inspired, but the collection is nonetheless engaging, and The Shirley Temple of Doom—a story about undercover Judges aiming to bring down a cityblock mafia—is a minor classic.

Messing with formats is a dangerous business, not least when you then ramp the price up. This month, however, the Megazine stands true. It’s cover-to-cover goodness, although curious scheduling means it’s not great as a jumping-on issue. (The Dredd and Anderson tales are parts 3 and 4, respectively.) Whether the momentum can be maintained remains to be seen, though, and next month’s Snow/Tiger reprint is certainly a less enticing prospect than a Jock Judge Dredd collection.

The Judge Dredd Megazine is available now from all the usual stockists for £4.99. More information on 2000 AD products can be found at 2000 AD online.

This time, Britney couldn’t decide between shaving it all off or keeping it long. (Image credit: the wonderful Rufus Dayglo.)

Causing lactic acid build-up since 1983

Konami understands retro gamers. Unlike certain other companies, Konami isn’t content shovelling the same old garbage out to consumers time and time again. Instead—and particularly with handheld games—its retro content appears full of thought and devotion.

This was definitely the case with Arcade Classics for the GBA and last year’s similarly titled DS compilation, but New International Track & Field shows that the same magic still flows through Konami’s veins when it comes to more focussed titles.

As its name might suggest, New International Track & Field is the latest in Konami’s long-running sports series. In practice, it’s essentially 1983’s Track & Field and 1984’s Hyper Sports mashed together, doubled in size, and redecorated, with the ’80s pixelated athletes replaced by a cast of super-deformed Anime-inspired characters.

Gameplay, however, remains firmly retro, with the button-bashing of the original titles replicated by smacking seven shades out of your DS buttons. And for users who grew up with joystick-waggling home conversions, the alternate control method of frantically scrubbing the stylus back and forth evokes fond memories of severe arm-cramping to shave a tenth of a second off of your best 100 metre dash time.

Although some of the events are needlessly fiddly (mostly regarding timing—something not helped by the intermittently inept instructions provided), most are actually a lot of fun. Double-trap shooting is perhaps the best, practically identical to the skeet-shooting event in Hyper Sports and similarly addictive. Springboard, javelin and archery also provide a decent mix of physical endurance and precision timing that ensures this compilation isn’t all about repetitive scrubbing or bashing.

As is seemingly law these days, New International Track & Field begins with most of its content locked, and while most unlockables are trite (such as new character outfits), some achievements unlock new characters that have their own challenges. These are typically based on events elsewhere in the game. Standouts include Evil Rose’s hammer variation, where competitors are thrown from a wrestling ring on to a scoreboard, and Simon Belmont’s skeet-shooting-inspired-vampire-bat-massacre, set in a spooky castle.

A few irksome difficulty spikes, a couple of really awkward events, and the hateful way in which you can enhance your athlete’s performance by yelling into the microphone (quick tip, DS developers: using the mic like this makes gamers hate you) stop New International Track & Field from reaching the dizzy heights enjoyed by retro remake Space Invaders Extreme, but Konami’s game isn’t too far off the pace and wins a well-deserved silver medal.

New International Track & Field is out now, and although it’s not worth the 30 quid RRP, it’s well worth tracking down for a wee bit less.

Repetitive? Sure. Painful? Definitely. Fun? Too right. God knows why, though.

Demon days

Revert to Saved recently had Hellboy week, so you might already have an inkling that I’m a fan of Mike Mignola’s blue-collar demon. However, the first Hellboy film didn’t entirely deliver. Although it retained something of the spirit of the original comic, it lacked its humour and fascination with folklore, instead concentrating on Lovecraftian nutcases and an inevitably burdensome origins arc.

Hellboy 2 is an entirely different beast, and although the story has veered far away from the comics, the movie feels much more like Hellboy. It’s funny as hell (pun possibly intended), has buckets of visual flair and imagination, and ticks all the boxes on the emotions checklist, providing a balanced, engaging movie with plenty of heart.

The folklore angle also comes to the fore. The plot centres around elf prince Nuada (a surprisingly buff ex-Bros Luke Goss) declaring war on humanity and aiming to use the mythical Golden Army to reclaim the world for the legions of underworld creatures that mankind has forgotten. But, like with Mignola’s comics, there’s more to this than a bunch of brainless scraps between strange-looking beasties—this is intelligent craziness.

First, it’s hard to egg on Hellboy and company as they battle to contain the various foes Nuada unleashes on humanity—after all, the humans in Hellboy’s world are often greedy and soulless, and Nuada’s desperately trying to save his kind before they fade away forever. And while Hellboy is ultimately the ‘hero’ of the flick, his role becomes increasingly questionable: he fights for humans who’ll never accept him, killing his ‘own kind’, who perhaps need his help more.

But it’s also telling that the most ‘human’ scenes in the movie happen with so-called monsters. Hellboy and fish-man Abe Sapien share one particularly memorable scene, drunkenly trying to understand the opposite sex. German mystic Johann Krauss—a disembodied ectoplasmic spirit—slowly realises that he’s lost his own humanity and needs to regain it. And even Nuada, despite his penchant for death and destruction, has sorrow etched across his face when his kind are harmed.

If there’s a negative aspect to The Golden Army, it’s that it sometimes feels like a series of set-pieces, strung together with a few slightly flimsy plot threads. However, the movie looks fantastic (not least the stunning clockwork Golden Army, and the troll market, which by comparison makes the Mos Eisley Cantina scene in Star Wars look humdrum), and it has more heart, humanity and imagination than any other movie I’ve seen this year, let alone other comic-book adaptations.

An angry Abe Sapien says how many stars he’d have given The Golden Army.