Deathsmiles comes out of nowhere, providing an unexpectedly fantastic ride in a genre that's long seemed done with...
I am not an anime fan.
And by that, I mean "Gods, I hate anime."
A *lot.*
I'm also not a huge fan of schmups- they had their time and place, and then it passed as consoles became capable of providing an experience that wasn't crippled by the need for side-scrolling, 2d tedium.
So why am I reviewing Deathsmiles at all, let alone plastering a big ol' 9 up top?
Because it deserves it, honestly.
This game proved me wrong on a lot of levels- I bought it mostly on a lark, just to fill a schmup gap in my 360 collection that, aside from a few throwaway XBLA titles, has remained gapingly empty. I didn't expect much, and when I managed to pre-order the collector's edition for under fifty bucks, brand new and including a Deathsmiles faceplate, those expectations grew even lower, truthfully. I mean, here they were, basically bribing people to buy the collector's edition of a brand new game, at a slightly budget price?
How good could the game possibly be, really?
Fast forward a couple days, and I'm here to tell you the answer to that question: very, very good indeed.
Deathsmiles is a classic, 16-bit style shoot'em up (or schmup, if you will) of the "bullet hell" variety- basically, a fu... ahem, a "love"ton of enemies on screen at once, throwing a veritable wall of fire at you from all angles, at a pace that could charitably be called "amped up on meth and ready to pop."
In the center of this chaos is you, as one of five (depending on which gamemode you choose) teenage girls with magical powers in an alternate world where...
Oh, screw it- the story's insane. Completely and utterly batfeces insane. There's no deep emotional subtext here, no undercurrent of triumph and loss, no insight into the human condition- no, what there is is... crack, apparently. Crack aplenty!
And it works, honestly, because the story matches the game, which is also absolutely, unrelentingly insane, a frenetic dash through bizarre enemies, beautifully rendered- if mindbendingly odd- backdrops, and gigantic, surreal bosses.
Giant cow?
Check.
Enormous head sticking halfway out of the ground, held down with leather straps and mouth sewn shut, writhing as it attacks you with hearts that, while also giant, are nowhere near the scale of the head itself, rather being, you know, teenage girl in her entirety-sized?
Check.
Floating viking head, with monster face on its behind?
Secret level check!
So, as I said- the game's completely whacked out. Don't take this as a criticism, though- oh, no, far from it. See, when a game's this insane, this anything goes, then, and only then, do you get to do things like shoot it out with a bunch of flying eyes, or stompy one-eyed cyclops monsters standing in castle balconies while smaller, nattily-attired Victorian-era ballroom dancers levitate around them, also trying to kill you.
Wanna tool through a swamp, fighting giant spiders, leaping lizardmen, and seven foot tall flying grey apples with huge, toothy grins? Then step right up, 'cuz Deathsmiles' got you covered, too!
But enough about the inherent lunacy here, let's talk about the area where Deathsmiles particularly shines: gameplay.
Two home console games from ages past really spring to mind for me, whenever I consider Deathsmiles, and it is, in my opinion, one darned fine duo, at that: Forgotten Worlds on the Sega Genesis/Megadrive, and the Keith Courage games from the late, lamented, unfairly forgotten TurboGrafx-16/Turbo Duo.
Solo play, in most modes, is very reminiscent of both games, for me at least, but particularly the Keith Courage series, with the nearly endless, rapid fire wave upon wave of enemies, the razor-sharp precision of the game's own controls (which differ, in some modes, be warned), and the endless eye-straining "watch for everything, everywhere, all the time" focus the game lulls you into as you play.
I've yet to play co-op, but from the videos I've seen, both before ordering it and now, afterwards, it really looks to scratch that two-player flying madness Forgotten Worlds itch I've been suffering from since happening across my (sadly defunct) Genesis a few months back, while sorting boxes in storage.
Then, we have Ver. 1.1 (and, naturally, its big-sister-in-crazypantsness version, Mega Black Label Ver. 1.1). It's a single player only mode, which made me look askance at the screen at first, since, well- why would you bother?
Then I played it, and discovered the secret that had been cleverly hidden in the manual I still have yet to do more than peruse briefly- in 1.1, which is a console-exclusive mode, you use the right thumbstick to control your familiar.
It sounds relatively minor, but let me say, it completely changes the dynamics of the game, and how you approach it, once you actually give it anything more than a cursory whirl. Now, you can fire in two different directions at once. Now, you can fire up or down, if only with the familiar. Now, you can MAKE YOUR FAMILIAR SWOOP IN AND EAT THOSE THRICE-ACCURSED SUICIDE BULLETS THAT KEPT KILLING ME ALL THROUGHOUT OTHER MODES!
Also, now, you can get completely hosed repeatedly, early on, as you spend so much time focusing on the familiar that you overlook, you know... *yourself.*
That last part may be just me, though.
The controls in all modes, though, are absolutely hyper-responsive, while still being quite intuitive, and not so elaborate that you dislocate 3 of your fingers trying to do eleventy-six things at once.
The visuals are striking, very evocative of the sort of no-holds-barred anime-fueled incoherence that made console gaming so much fun back in the 8- and 16-bit days of legend.
The sound is a mix of nice orchestral movements, halloweenish atmospheric pieces, and the requisite heartfelt, incredibly earnest-sounding jrock and jpop everyone on the planet except me seems to find totally listenable- but even though I find it melodramatic and ridiculous, it didn't detract from the game at all, because, uh... what's another layer of over-the-top goofiness, at this stage?
In short (yes, finally)- I love Deathsmiles. I popped it into my Eduardo (my 360. Yes, he has a name. Shush.) expecting a bad joke I could fool around with and laugh at whenever I needed a break from the usual gaming experiences I favor, and instead, I've discovered an absolute blast that's still sitting there in the tray, and still luring me over when I'm trying to catch a nap, with whispers of "C'mon, one more playthrough... just blow up a few more angry rockpiles with scowling eyebrows, you know you wanna..."
And on that note, I'm going to bring this bloated pig of a review to an end.
Just go buy Deathsmiles.
Trust me- it's good enough that I wrote my first ever review on GameSpot for it, despite having a collection of almost 200 games, and having been on GS for... I don't know, forever. Years, at least.
Deathsmiles is simply that good, and deserves not to be overlooked.