Check out my review of MONDO #1 from Image Comics and Shadowline. Click (or cluck?) if you like jumbo chickens and crazy girls on roller skates.

This month’s Marvel special includes reviews of NEW MUTANTS #37, SCARLET SPIDER #2, and WOLVERINE AND THE X-MEN #5. Check ‘em out!

Check out my review of the downloadable title Scarygirl.

Reviews of Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and Superboy #5 are available at Impulse Creations. Find out which ones are super and which ones are in need of major saving.

This review is for the GameCube port of the game included in The Legend of Zelda: Collector’s Edition.

Following The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword with Ocarina of Time—or more precisely, continuing Ocarina of Time after my Skyward Sword fever wore off—guarantees an expert eye at detecting similarities and differences between the two games. Although I had never played Ocarina of Time in the past (the real past), it was because I was engaged in Skyward Sword that I knew how to maximize Link’s abilities in OoT. Rolling into trees to shake out items is just one of the many tricks that apparently translate from Zelda to Zelda.

I couldn’t help but compare Ocarina of Time to Skyward Sword, and not always in a flattering way. I wanted to keep the foolproof aiming, the orchestral score, and the convenient checkpoints from the newer title. It wasn’t my intention to play favorites. I wanted to enjoy the 3D Zelda that everyone had raved about for over a decade, and in some ways I did, but mostly I longed to return skyward.

After bringing peace to Skyloft, I could focus more clearly on Ocarina of Time. I can understand why the game, which gives you all the time in the world, is succeeded by a title (Majora’s Mask) that gives you no time at all. Zelda isn’t afraid to experiment with time (Oracle of Ages), alternate realities (A Link to the Past), and even size (The Minish Cap), so it makes sense that Nintendo would flip the switch in the other direction. Ocarina of Time handles the seven-year divide of child to adult Link well, even for a game that’s host to some of the biggest spoilers in video game history.

Ocarina of Time comes drenched not only in popular story points, but also nostalgia. You have to wade through a great, stinking bog of nostalgia to actually get to the game, and here’s a little thing about nostalgia: After testing its strength, you start to see through its candy-coated exterior to the time-accumulated rust and original imperfections underneath. Ocarina of Time is not perfect. And if you think so, maybe it’s time you left the safety of Kokiri Forest and experienced the open world. When you were a tyke and first played Ocarina of Time, you were just too young to understand.

Hyrule Field isn’t as huge and full of endless possibilities as you might remember. When you’re not avoiding Peahats with extreme annoyance by day, then you’re zig-zagging past Stalchilds at night. I expected the routine to change when Link grew up, but the reanimated skeletons popped out of the earth like bad weeds—the only creatures festering in the infertile soil.

Every other enemy not found on the open field is worth combating, however. They operate best in dungeons, where each encounter demands your full attention. Allow yourself to grow complacent and the simplest enemies will rob you of precious hearts. The respawn time slips a little out of control here, negating your efforts at progress at the worst times—like when attempting to demystify the complicated blueprint of the Water Temple. No enemy infuriated me as much as Keese and Tektites, the latter of which wouldn’t even let me climb out of the water without getting knocked aside. Otherwise a decent amount of creativity went into programming each type of enemy and boss.

Locking on to enemies, or anything in Hyrule for that matter, can be difficult. Sometimes Navi will become distracted by a random object and insist that you look at it right away (and she never shuts up about, say, Death Mountain, even when you’re inside Death fucking Mountain), and her hyperactivity can cost you. Fi in Skyward Sword might be just as annoying, but at least she shares information with you, even if it’s something you clearly already know. But sometimes, too, the camera quits on you and decides, well, isn’t this awkward view of a wall or your feet more preferable than the one of the boss trying to smash you into puddy. It can really dampen the heroic spirit, whether you’re trying to slay an overgrown Octorok or trying to hole-in-one a bomb into a large spinning Goron urn. To aggravate the problem, aiming with weapons like the bow and arrow or slingshot without a lockable target requires luck and a large amount of guesswork, especially until you get the hang of its iffiness.

Occasionally the hunt for consumables can mutate into a quest all its own. While going out of your way to collect more items isn’t a big problem, considering you have to go out of your way for everything else in the game (traveling to locations, searching dungeons for missing keys), it can become a huge issue when you’re hurting for hearts. Dungeons either tuck hearts away in a minuscule number of pots (which inexcusably refuse to break half the time) or goad players into tracking down Skulltulas and trying for a jackpot. Beating dungeons with persistently low health is doable, but you might want to bottle fairies or red potions for emergencies. In-dungeon checkpoints (not the same as in-dungeon shortcuts, which are actually a huge help) don’t lend themselves well to these situations, as they routinely force you to replay the sections you lost hearts on in the first place.

As mentioned, moving between locations can eat up your time. Reloading the game will take you back to centerpieces like Kokiri Village and the Temple of Time—or, thankfully, at the beginning of a dungeon, if you’re occupied with one of those. The game’s early field shortcuts are hardly worth using when you have to navigate the confusing and exit-prone Lost Woods to access them. At least Sheik teaches you useful songs so you can hop around the map’s major landmarks later on.

Of course, Ocarina of Time does have its pros. I like the characters and the story, even if nearly all the surprises have been ruined for me over all the years of not playing the game. The locations are fun to explore, and they’re colorful. Set pieces, such as the backdrop for fighting Phantom Ganondorf and Jabu Jabu’s Belly, are equally impressive. I might gag every time I walk into Hyrule town or visit any of the atrocious Great Fairies, but I still appreciate the game’s richness of personality and humor. I loved floating through the air on a Cucco’s frantic wings and buying magical beans from a presumptuous salesman (Link is his only customer, after all). And the dungeon in the desert was my favorite by far for its simplicity and for bringing back one of my favorite pieces of equipment with a cool new design. No matter where you are or who you talk to, Ocarina of Time presents an original world and emotionally stirring narrative—whether you’re a kid staring in awe of Sheik or an adult chuckling at the slapstick tag-team of young Link and Ruto.

The equipment selection, too—especially the various tunics and gear—adds a lot of depth and variety to the game. My one complaint here is that the Water Temple, most of all, corners you into switching footwear more frequently than a runway model. I can imagine this component and the cumbersome menu page-turning in general were tweaked for the 3DS remake.

As stated, enemies and bosses exhibit the kind of smart and thoughtful design seen in Skyward Sword. The new Zelda might drop players into the middle of the action by requiring them to slash and thrust as Link himself, a dynamic that benefits the gameplay immensely, but Ocarina of Time shouldn’t be denied its accomplishments in the same category. Players might only press buttons instead of fully manipulating a controller, but they need to devise a strategy before charging headfirst into combat.

The biggest obstacle to my uninterrupted enjoyment of Ocarina of Time was the puzzles. While many of the puzzles followed a logical progression, an exception to the rule kept cropping up: When stuck, your only hope is to revisit every room, search every cranny, and mash every button to get back on track. Couple this time-wasting problem, a product of old gaming design, with the aforementioned respawning enemies and low supply of hearts and you’ve got a recipe for frustration. A better hint system would have sufficed. The least Navi could do is keep up with current events instead of spouting single lines of dialogue that lost their relevancy hours ago.

But most barbaric are the few essential goodies, sprinkled throughout the game in secret spots, that are required for use later on. Miss the golden opportunity and you’ll be paying for it hours down the line in a dungeon, without a clue as to where you went wrong. Only online walkthroughs, or thorough backtracking (which no one wants to do), can save you at this point.

Even with these problems, the dungeons still captivate. Ocarina of Time suffers in many departments, but even in number the flaws are not enough to totally tarnish the memory of this classic game. The N64 original might be dated when it comes to today’s gameplay standards, but if you’re willing to be patient and attentive to your surroundings, Ocarina of Time rewards with a deep and challenging experience. I only wish it didn’t make me scream in anger nearly as much.

Rating: 6/10
Pros: Weapons and equipment, creative world and story, boss fights, clever enemy design
Cons: Overactive enemy respawning, tiresome mechanics, useless running around and frequent menu flipping, muddy graphics, troublesome controls

Joshua Luna (as in the Luna Brothers) is putting out a solo entry this Wednesday called Whispers #1, which I wholeheartedly recommend. My advance review is now online.

London Horror Comic

“V” is by far the shining gem of the five stories included in LHC #4. It’s a Superman and Lex Luthor spoof, where Superman once again outsmarts Lex “Loofer” and dooms him to work in a coffee shop as an alternative to jail time. It’s done so tastefully, authentically, and with such charm and style that you’d swear DC Comics could have thought it up themselves. This piece best demonstrates the talent and creativity of Kamath and his main artists, Lee Ferguson and Dean Kotz.

“Tough All Over” is another excellent short that’s relevant to the times, especially here in America. After a store manager kicks out a homeless shopper for causing trouble, he gets his own bitter taste of joblessness. The story sends a harsh message to those who take their jobs for granted and resonates well with the rising percentage of Americans who are unemployed or fresh out of college or graduate school with meager options.

“Drive Thru’” comes in third, appealing greatly to the Buffy crowd (particularly watchers of the Doublemeat Palace episodes). What makes this story interesting is the way it both breaks and adheres to conventions regarding blonde, female beauties in the horror genre.

While not nearly as stand-out as the previous three, “The Passenger” provides a good introduction to the style of London Horror Comic—and with a good sense of pace and anxiety, it can set the reader on edge. “Skyscrapped” is definitely the weakest of the five, but it’s an ongoing trademark of the London Horror Comic series: a brief, wordless story meant to unsettle the reader.

London Horror Comic #4 is a good investment, especially if you want to support indie creators and especially if you want more from this underused comics genre.

Rating: 4/5

Happy New Year! Start 2012 off right with three must-read indie comics: The Strain #1, House of Night #2, and Dark Horse Presents #7.

This annual has been a long time coming. Check out my review of the new Hellblazer Annual.

Nintendo has sold nearly 90 million units of their hit Wii console, hardware designed with families and casual gamers in mind. But for Wii owners whose dream game isn’t Dance Central, few titles stand out in its library. Core games like Donkey Kong Country Returns, Mario Kart Wii, and Smash Bros. Brawl might warrant a buy, but otherwise the little motion gaming system that could is probably used to playing third wheel to the bigger and badder competition: the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword is the last huzzah of a console soon to be replaced by the high-definition Wii U, but the game itself isn’t a hasty money grab or even a love letter to better days. Skyward Sword is more like end-of-the-night fireworks, the big bang finale that says, “This is what you’ve been waiting for all along.”

The fact is, you could draw a hundred comparisons to any Zelda game before it, but that still wouldn’t diminish the sheer might of Skyward Sword. I’ve even argued that the game is better than the hallowed Ocarina of Time, but don’t mistake that testimonial for flawlessness. I might like Fi more than Navi, who only adds to Link’s problems, but hey listen, they’re both 95% annoying.

The game lands its biggest achievements in three components: controls, sound, and story. Producer Eiji Aonuma has said in interviews that the development team viewed Skyward Sword as the first in the overall chronology, if you believe one exists, and I’m not sure I do. But officially naming Skyward Sword the first of the Zeldas actually makes sense: You begin your quest above the clouds and travel to uncharted regions below, and without spoiling what was for me a huge realization, you actually help to create something important—a key element of all other Zelda games.

After a sandstorm brews in the skies and Zelda is kidnapped by a metrosexually clothed antagonist (Ghirahim, rhymes with Agahnim) who likes to whisper dangerously up-close in Link’s ear, Link accepts his heroic destiny and, on the back of his Loftwing, plummets to the surface in search of his childhood friend. (To make matters more curious, Ghirahim looks a bit like the better dressed Minish Cap evildoer Vaati.) The story routes and reroutes Link to three expansive locations: Faron Woods, Eldin Volcano, and Lanayru Desert. Players also visit various places in the sky, but for the majority of the game you’ll be shuffled back and forth between these three points.

Granted, this trio of elemental-based areas contains some smaller settings that differ noticeably from one another, and sometimes whole landscapes receive dramatic makeovers, but the basic themes remain unchanged. You’ll still traverse large patches of sand in all corners of the desert, and you’ll find Bokoblins (Skyward Sword‘s answer to Moblins) on pretty much any map. And while fighting Bokoblins never bored me (they have cousins, and their cousins have cousins), I did wish for a new backdrop or two—for a chance to discover more to the surface world than trees, dunes, and lava. The endless loop of backtracking, even if it did always involve exploring new turf, only made the game’s fetish for fetch quests that much more ridiculous.

That’s not to say Skyward Sword isn’t a joy to play, because it is. But I think that joy lies more in the empowering act of unsheathing Link’s sword and slashing away at enemies than it does the repetitive, collect-a-thon nature of its gameplay. And for the enemy types it does offer, the strategies used to kill them never grow dull. Players can’t just blindly hack away at an electric Bokoblin after one successful encounter. They have to watch the enemy’s movements and strike when and how it’s appropriate, and that requires quick thinking, quick reflexes, and a little patience and perseverance.

Skyward Sword is also fun with items. On several occasions, I was amazed at how well seemingly useless items like the Gust Bellows and the Slingshot remained applicable throughout Link’s adventure. The Gust Bellows can be used to clear away large quantities of sand, leaving you to feel like you’ve been duped into janitorial work for the ancients, but it can also push around airborne pufferfish-type enemies (called Froak) that explode on contact, using them to blow up obstacles and other enemies. Surprisingly, the item also works in a main area besides the desert. As for the Slingshot, it simply came in handy when there weren’t any pots containing arrows nearby.

Items are just pleasantly easy to use. Bringing up the B menu (some confusion in the manual made this feature almost inaccessible to me at first) lets players quick select any major item, and aiming is a cinch. Bombs, which cutely resemble bulbous blueberries, can be harvested and stored within seconds. The Clawshot can mimic the stun effect of the bow and arrow, which can be substituted in a pinch with the aforementioned Slingshot. Maybe the developers could have programmed it so that opening the B menu temporarily froze the gameplay, but this really only posed a problem when dealing with those pesky laser-shooting towered robots (Beamos), when you need to rapidly withdraw the Gust Bellows and turn their head turbines in circles until they get dizzy.

And the upgrades. Skyward Sword heaps on the upgrades—for your shield, for your sword, for nearly all your possessions. Of course, you have to collect (sigh) a small sum of different bugs and objects like bird feathers to concoct the different upgrades, but for most of them you’ll have plentiful opportunities to snatch the required ingredients.

The more you play and face different enemies, the more you learn about how to defeat them—and how not to. Chuchus will actually seek out and swallow any launched bombs, hoping to deliver them back to you. Players can make short work of Skulltulas if they clip their web lines with the Beetle first, and large bird enemies can be splatter-brained by using the same item to transport a live bomb to the sides of their heads. Enemies actually have smart AI—the final boss even tries to fake you out—and the way you beat them one time may not be the tactic that works the second. Even better, you might learn backup strategies for taking them out. Enemy types might be glaringly limited in Skyward Sword, but the possibilities for defeating them are not.

Boss battles are even more richly rewarding, providing some of the most challenging ones in the series in years. In any game, boss fights aren’t just an excuse for developers to flaunt their engine’s graphical power and players to pump as many bullets as possible into their target. These fights are supposed to rally up everything players have learned up to that point and test them on it. Skyward Sword is one of the few games nowadays that puts that into play.

The game does feature some smaller segments that you’ll either love or hate. I didn’t care for Link’s excursions into the Silent Realm, alarmingly intense spiritual trials that have you running around collecting fifteen Sacred Tears while searching out Light Fruit to reveal their locations and while avoiding sentries called Watchers and hotspots known as Waking Water, both of which rouse Guardians and alert them to your location. If they attack you, you fail the trial and have to start over.

Another such segment involves using the Mogma Mitts to burrow underground, where Link has to clear a path to a hole where he can reemerge, on the way breaking rocks with bombs, activating door mechanisms, and fighting Moldorms in the confined space. At any rate, with these two action-breaking segments at least Nintendo is trying to spice up the scenery, even if it means going under it or entering another dimension of it.

If you feel like putting the sometimes tedious main quest on hold and delving into side quests and light exploration, either by helping your fellow characters or by hunting for Goddess Cubes, you can do so at any time. I love that Skyward Sword hardly ever pressures you to engage in any of its extra content, so you can finish the game without doing many at all.

So far I’ve discussed mostly the gameplay and the controls, which are not only fun, but work well. As it happens, sound is just as crucial to the enjoyment as anything else. Nintendo’s orchestral score makes the game sound beautiful, but it never stops impressing in the minor details. Different tones and themes and variations on them complement every sword swipe, character moment, and environment interaction, whether Link is window shopping in the Bazaar, sneaking up on bugs with the net, or entering and exiting time shifts in the desert (listen carefully for the subtle difference in musical pace and complexity). The sound adds invaluable creativity and personality to the game.

The stylistic graphics, while frequently washed out and even blotchy, are gorgeous and vibrantly colorful, especially in sections where you’re actually returning color to the land. It makes you wonder how amazing the game would look if it were actually rendered in HD.

Even if you’re bored of the view, tired of retreading familiar ground, or just good and sick of collecting and dowsing—and you may very well be—what really sets Skyward Sword apart from other video games on the market today is its story. Zelda takes more of an active role here than in any other Zelda to date. She actually embarks on her own quest alongside Link’s, and she has more character and more lines of dialogue than any Zelda performances before hers.

But the story itself is funny, and grave, and touching—especially near the end. Zelda and Link share an honestly heartwarming dynamic, and a few other important characters come through in unexpected ways. This is truly a game that should be played to completion, and thanks to the immense effort that went into it, allowing for smart design and polished controls, you’ll likely be compelled to. Would I play Skyward Sword again? Yes, in a heart beat. Even if it meant venturing into the insanely frustrating Lanayru Mining Facility over again.

Rating: 9.5/10
Pros: Groose; Kikwis; Link’s voice is turning Japanese, I really think so
Cons: Mining Facility music, watching Fi sing, watching Fi dance