No, not “criminally underrated” ones.
We read the gaming press, and as such we generally endeavour only to buy games that we enjoy (consoles aren’t exactly a traditionally masochistic hobby, anyway) and are reccomended, so as to ensure that we’ve made a decent investment. However, inevitably we do on occasion find ourselves just permitting the joypad to clunk to the floor and reflect for a moment on the eternal question: Why did I squander forty pounds sterling on this unmitigated bunkum?
We may have disagreed with the reviews. We may have never heard of the game, but thought that the blurb on the back sounded interesting. We may have been forced to play a “Christmas Present” to please our Aunt who meant well but naturally isn’t aware of these sorts of things. We may have grown weary of Edge’s priggish nitpicking and bought the game they slated anyway, just to spite them.
So let’s be honest with ourselves - what in your gaming library is distinguished from the others only in having an inch-thick layer of dust settling on it?
I’ll start off with a ‘classic’ to get the ball rolling:
TITLE: Shadow of the Beast II
DEVELOPER: Psygnosis
FORMAT: Amiga 500+
Whilst I am and shall always be a vigorous proponent of the Leadbetter Axiom - “Graphics maketh not a game” - I concede that a polished and buffed graphical flair is definitely of value in enhancing a game.
But the Leadbetter Axiom continues to hold true - astounding graphical capabilities, ludicrously advanced physics engines, &c. &c. are so much chaff and stubble if the game they are affixed to is completely univolving and utterly lifeless. Shadow of the Beast II is a prime illustration of this perennial gaming law.
Oh, Shadow of the Beast II… this game was, it must be said, the archetypal example of style over substance.
The game was split over two sleekly white disks, the first one of which was exclusively dedicated to an elaborately-realised, dark and macabre F.M.V. (on a floppy disk!) sequence. This is what awarded the game such massive accolades and plaudits when it was first released.
The second disk, however, was an altogether different tale. How could such a promising opening degenerate into such a vapid, vacuous, limpid, lifeless, enervated, doleful and utterly, unforgivably, irrevocably dull testament to unbridled mediocrity that was the basic platformer on Disk II? It looked pretty, certainly - but it was a hollow, unstructured, random, impenetrable, tragic mess from the very instant your Amiga ceased loading. I can’t progress into a thorough analysis of the game’s failings because it was a rare occasion indeed that I could endure any more than a few minutes before being compelled to abandon the soul-draining torment that was this title.