Although Mega Man is by far Capcom's most prolific
franchise, it's been about half a decade since the company devoted any serious
resources to it. Capcom hasn't erased the blue bomber but rendered him the
equivalent of a niche Mickey Mouse. He's retained his iconic status within his
own sphere, but any conversation about his current exploits stems from the
occasional port/remake, casual mobile game, or merchandise.
Mega Man Legacy Collection the latest in a series of re-releases meant to channel the glory days of the beloved platformer franchise on a new format, this time for current-generation hardware. While it's mildly frustrating that this compilation is inferior to a console release from 2003, Legacy Collection seeks to highlight the NES games above all else. To be perfectly frank, Mega Man's NES series is one that warrants being resuscitated as much as Pac-Man or the original Sonic the Hedgehog. That's a tall order for six separate games, as each entry manages to contribute something worthwhile (to varying degrees, of course).
What led a series of highly formulaic 2D platformers to
capture the hearts of millions and spawn copious spin-offs was arguably sheer charisma
backed by solid sci-fi building blocks. Taking place in the vague, potentially
futuristic year of 20XX, technology has evolved at an alarming rate and the
study of robotics is the norm. Our titular robo pal is one such creation and
his position as a youthful robot looking to bridge the gap between two
societies by protecting both from malevolence. From the elder mentor figure/creator
to the aspirations of each individual, it’s a narrative strongly reminiscent of
Astro Boy from Osamu Tezuka’s eponymous masterwork.
The franchise would eventually go on to make more profound
statements about free will versus determinism as well as speculate about the
potential friction in a society occupied by a jaded mankind and ostracised artificial
intelligence, but these early games are largely frivolous affairs that use this
motif mostly to stylistic benefit. But style is what classic Mega Man delivers
in spades. Every aspect is chic, from cleverly chosen colour palettes that maximised
the limited NES hardware to witty naming schemes based on music genres and inventors.
These names are slightly altered and confusing at times since the localisers radically
altered certain names (including Mega himself) and kept others, but the charm always
shines through.
What separated Mega Man from fellow platforming heroes was
his ability to claim to the weaponry of any Robot Masters he bests in combat. This
meant that every level had a broader purpose in that players were powering up
the protagonist’s arsenal and making him more flexible for the countless brutal
situations the game would throw out of left field. Compounded with a non-linear
level order, picking and choosing which boss to fight first could result in a
radically different experience since each boss has weaknesses or immunities to
others. Sadistic players could also test their mettle by taking on the more
meddlesome foes with nothing but the default weapon, which provided some
longevity relative to the short lengths of these games. With just short of
fifty bosses represented in Legacy Collection, there’s a ridiculous degree of variety
to discover for first time players, from Metal Man’s game-breaking blades to
the inelegant but useful Top Spin attack.
Mega Man clung to tradition strongly throughout his six
Nintendo stints. All games feature relatively goofy plots designed to get Mega
Man into his default position of saving the world. That doesn’t mean the
developers failed to innovate or craft creative scenarios throughout the
franchise’s heyday, though. Each stage features highly thematic scenery that defies
the genre’s archetypal grass, water, fire, and ice stages. While those tropes
are still represented in Mega Man, they’re sidelined in favour of highly imaginative
stages. Despite the popular opinion that the later entries are weaker efforts, those
ones actually have some particularly brainy ideas. Bright Man sees the blue
hero having to avoid shooting pesky enemies
to keep the lights on while Gravity Man’s stage tasks players with manoeuvring Mega
Man upside-down.
Changes implemented between games
are subtle but ultimately worthwhile…for the most part. Mega Man 2 expanded on
its forefather’s original blueprint by instituting more bosses and extraneous
weaponry for actually navigating the stages. Mega Man 3 represents a colossal
leap forward by expanding the previously shallow story to become the most “serious”
one of the lot. It also includes Mega Man’s partner, Rush, and a revolutionary slide
attack that completely changes how players approach situations and boss fights.
The fourth outing saw the addition of the charge attack, which again systematically
altered the way players approach situations. The fifth and sixth instalments
weren’t quite so progressive, with the former having Mega Man collect letters
to unlock a new partner character and the final game featuring the ability to,
uh, merge with a robot dog. There’s definitely a pecking order, but each game
is inspired in its own right.
The brainchild of Akira Kitamura and Keiji Infafune also raises
questions about how level design in platformers is executed. The difficulty
employed in the six NES games available in this package is paradoxical; clever
but brutal, generous yet stingy. In a time when developers often employed
trickery to manipulate players into making poor decisions to artificially
extend a game's length (and, consequently, its perceived value), Mega Man is an
outlier that can't be easily described. I will say, though, that Keiji Inafune
himself admitted to struggling to play the games is telling.
Certain scenarios the developers set up are extremely charitable,
teaching the player subconsciously how to tackle situations by showcasing them
in action before actually inflicting that particular hazard on the player. This
grounds some of the more intimidating obstacles and provides realistic expectations.
Of course, after building up this rapport, obstacles can very well be placed in
a manner precious few could ever react to on their first shot. Other times, the
game is just flat-out, indefensibly unfair. In these instances, discovery is
just as important as correctly interpreting each level’s subtle cues. But the
levels are always inventive, the soundtrack provides consistent chiptune greatness,
and there’s a sense that the player grows with each death. The result is deliriously
addictive, Stockholm syndrome-esque game design.
The greatest criticism of the level structure in Mega Man is
that it doesn’t draw the line between secret and mandatory puzzle. This is
especially true with the earlier games. In the first outing, a weapon called
the Magnet Beam is mandatory for progression, but obtaining it mandates you slay
bosses in a particular order (completely contradicting the open-ended nature of
the game). Because players are conditioned to believe new gadgets are only
rewards from robot masters and there’s no in-game notification, it’s easy to falsely
conclude the game is broken. Capcom did not make player convenience a priority
here.
In the age of the internet, though, these games have become
significantly more accessible. Whereas a child in the early nineties would have
to bust out a copy of Nintendo Power or struggle through each boss with no
strategy beyond trial and error, thirty seconds of Google can grant you an
exhaustive guide to what weapon bests which boss. Couple that with the requisite
save states and the younger generation of players might not feel so ostracised.
That’s a great thing because, for Mega Man novices, this
package is worth exploring simply because of its influence. Countless titles
have borrowed and tinkered with Mega Man's parts, but modern classics still look
back at its contributions. Indie darling Shovel Knight, which is by all
accounts a more “fair” and better designed experience, takes countless pages
out of the Super Fighting Robot's book. With Inafune’s Mighty No. 9 on the way
and looking to make a splash in the media, there’s no better time to lap this up
and draw some comparisons.
As a compilation, Legacy Collection thankfully makes an
effort to be more than a sloppy pile of regurgitated code from decades ago. Each
game is loaded with countless illustrations from artist sketches to box art right
down to the Japanese manuals. The
challenge modes are worthwhile, serving up dozens of bite-sized portions of the
games such as boss rush modes that are better suited to on-the-go play. In all
honestly, though, just having access to all these games on a handheld and in
one location is a true gift.
There could have been more games crammed into a Mega Man collection
in 2016 than just the NES titles (and, in fact, that has happened), but the
current roster doesn’t disrupt its mission in the slightest. That mission is to
share the earliest exploits of a gaming icon with a new audience while throwing
a bone to longtime fans so Capcom can contemplate the Blue Bomber’s next step.
Anime Editor
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