Retro Gaming Reflections is a series of informal, first-person retrospective articles written by Eric from NintendoLegend.com, in which he more lengthily expounds on his personal experiences concerning games, genres, themes, and other topics, especially as related to the 8-bit Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) console.
I do not remember the year in which it occurred, but the event itself would prove to have a profound effect on my gaming; more specifically, my perspective on the NES console and what it had to offer.
One could say that my childhood was spent on the Nintendo Entertainment System. It was an exciting time, in those wild days before the pervasiveness of the Internet – you actually had to buy books and guides in order to learn new cheats, Game Genie codes, and how to get past that stupid part of that annoying level you had no idea how to beat. Rumors passed between friends and family members concerning impossible gaming feats. My sister and mother played, along with a friend or two, but for me it was a somewhat insular activity overall. Even as a kid, I desired a rich, deep, immersive experience, and longed for titles with massive hours of gameplay waiting for me, preferably with loads of replay value. While my friends would decry how “boring” Dragon Warrior was, I drank it like fine wine. When others were making fun of the “stupid” gameplay mechanics of Startopics and, for them, how it seemed to simply boil down to endlessly hopping from one block to another, I was completely sold into another world and truly cared about Mike and his adventures.
Over a period of years, but still in those non-adult times, despite definitely only being a casual gamer, my collection continued to grow to nearly a hundred cartridges, a set I was proud of at the time. Regrettably, I would eventually get into the habit of selling or trading titles that I was “done with,” thinking I had absolutely exhausted them and squeezed out every drop of enjoyment I could get. Or, I would get rid of them if I simply disliked them, in a merciless display of callous disassociation. Years later, I would look back on these decisions with regret. Perhaps that is obvious.
At least I was not merely cutting back, though, as I would gain new carts as well. Back in those days, it was a distinctive thrill to visit Funcoland, local E&B Games, or the other little used-games shops before the advent of GameStop and others; more particularly, the thrill was in purchasing NES cartridges without any prior knowledge of the game. I remember perusing the titles as a teen and wondering why some were more expensive than others, questioning whether I should purchase several games at once or get a single expensive one, consider asking around and seeing if I could research any information on some potential choices, and other weighty factors. Those were the days, man: Making video game purchase decisions not based on developer, release date, or reputation, but purely by price and cartridge art.
I remember making one trip and not having a lot of money, maybe ten or fifteen bucks, but still coming home with 4-5 carts. On that particular trip, though, I got burned: I remember two of the titles being Gyromite and Ghostbusters. Ghostbusters was particularly heart-breaking; I absolutely loved the animated series as a cherished part of my upbringing, but the NES game was a mess, as much as I tried to like it.
Thus, I decided, next time I would just pick one game. Maybe not the $40 copy of Dragon Warrior IV they had on the back wall, but one of the moderately priced titles. Ergo, a little later, I revisited the shop with a focused purpose. I looked through the available 8-bit cartridges with a keen eye, gauging my instinctual “feel” for the potential for each. After thoroughly examining every single option available to me, I do not remember what the price was, but I remember my gaze being fixated on one particular game I could not seem to get away from.
Crystalis.
The name was not a generic mash-up like Mean Streets Beat-‘em-Up or Robot-Themed Platformer or Shoddy Movie-Based Adventure. No, it was “Crystalis,” which was not even a real word; this meant it had to be made up as part of some fictional realm, as one element of a fantastical otherworldly environment. My mind raced with the possibilities. Could this be a full-fledged role-playing game? Or was it a fantasy platformer akin to Castlevania or 8 Eyes? The cartridge art made it look like it was either a wide-spanning adventure through distant lands – or a cheap sword-and-shield crapfest like Athena.
Nowadays, the sensation is difficult to imagine: Really, truly, sincerely, genuinely not knowing anything about a game. I will never be able to get that back. I will never, quite in the same way, experience the same hesitation, trepidation, and anticipation as I did that day as I paid for my copy of Crystalis. Heck, I could not even be sure that the cart would work, since it was used.
A short trip home and I eagerly approached my top-loader model with excitement, popping in this mysterious Crystalis game and firing it up.
My eyes widened and, I am sure, my mouth hung slightly agape.
I may not have been, nor ever will be, the most sophisticated of gamers; but neither have I ever been the kind to simply barge into a game without first reading the instruction manual, or without watching the demo after the title screen. In this case, I was watching one of the best 8-bit opening movies of all time. A plotline spanning over a hundred years? A post-apocalyptic setting dominated by mutated creatures? Excellent art direction and creative visuals? A provocative not-quite-steampunk blend of medieval simplicity and futuristic technology? A grammatical error, something about a tower, people working together to rebuild their village despite living in fear, and one hope remaining, not to mention that hypnotic line:
1997, October 1, The END DAY.
Now, this could have been somewhat laughable, since I was plainly playing the game after such a date had already passed. I instead found it to be just another fond wrinkle of its setup, and before I knew it I was entering my “program name” to start off my quest.
And, what was this I was seeing? A village? Freedom to explore my surroundings and interact with the NPCs? Was this truly the RPG I was looking for? Well, I had the appropriate stats – but so, too, did I have designations for A and B buttons. Inevitably, I exited the town into the overworld – and was fighting monsters in real time with an enchanted sword.
I had a mirthful laugh. I was grinning from ear to ear. This was Legend of Zelda with graphical updates and deeper RPG elements. This was Final Fantasy at a faster pace. This was seemingly literally a dream come true. This was epic, before the word “epic” became an overused clichéd Internet meme. To say “I was hooked” would be an understatement. I was — enraptured.
It would be years later before I found out that the average reader review on GameFAQs for Crystalis was 9.3, that IGN would name it the 42nd best NES video game of all time (beating out such classics as Shadowgate, Tengen’s version of Tetris, and Tecmo Super Bowl, among others), that a tool-assisted speed run would make a completion in under an hour, or that a commercial that was released for it would become available for viewing on YouTube.
I was not so completely oblivious as to think I was someone uniquely special that had discovered this hidden gem; no, I was sure that it was a fondly remembered title for many, and I was just lucky to finally have discovered it for myself. But, in that insular way, in that mode like the private viewing of a classic film, Crystalis provided an important insight for my gaming mind:
There are treasures to be found.
Before Crystalis, I had found some fun NES titles in the used games bin, sure. But Crystalis was the first time that, without any prior knowledge whatsoever, I had somewhat inadvertently stumbled upon a game that would become among my favorites, and was a truly high-quality cart in its own right. This experience opened my eyes to the possibility that there very well could be dozens of awesome games out there, that I had no idea of, just waiting for me to come upon and delve into. This revelation would propel me to further collecting and, eventually, the NintendoLegend.com project to review every title in the North American NES library.
No matter what other inferior or superior games I play, no matter where I end up taking a stance in my opinion of it, regardless of and even beyond my actual gameplay experience with the title, and no matter what else may happen to me over the course of my lifetime, that is the ultimate significance of Crystalis for me: The knowledge that developers produced many amazing titles for the 8-bit Nintendo Entertainment System console, and sometimes you just do not know until you venture out to try it.