The gaming period from 1995 to 1998 is remembered for many things: the rise of the PlayStation, the 3-D revolution's usurpation of the 2-D technique, and the decline of Sega's once-vast market influence. Some, however, recall the age first and foremost as the “Shooter Renaissance,” so named for the many traditional shoot-‘em-ups released on the Saturn and, to some extent, the PlayStation. During this era, it was hard for a shooter like Shienryu to get noticed among such genre titans as Radiant Silvergun and Soukyugurentai. And just to drive it further into obscurity, Shienryu never saw an American release at the time, and most of those who were aware of it regarded the game as a mere distraction to be played between better titles. Shienryu's story would have ended there if not for Natsume, which recently translated the PlayStation port and presented it to America with a $10 price tag and the title Gekioh: Shooting King.
Resembling some hybrid of Raiden and Truxton, Gekioh pits one or two players against a horde of advancing tanks, fighters, ships, and humanoid mecha. For attacks, you've got your choice of a standard spread shot, a wide-range electrical discharge, or enemy-seeking missles, along with screen-clearing bombs and speed upgrades. Missions start off with confrontations over land and sea, while later levels extend into space.
If it sounds generic, that's because it is. The mechanical designs and stage layouts of Gekioh are bland and forgettable, and for the most part, so is the gameplay. Aside from the innate strategy of choosing which weapon power-up to grab, there's no real depth to the game, and while stage 3's tentacle-waving boss and a recurring mech adversary are somewhat unique in appearance, none of the encounters with enemies show any inspiration. At least Gekioh features a fair continue system that prevents players from riding the continue button to the end, but even still, things don't get really challenging until the final stages. And by that point, the game has worn out its welcome.
But before it does, Gekioh is fun in an unmemorable way. As in all but the worst old-school shooters, there's a certain thrill to weaving between scores of bullets, slamming firepower into an enemy boss, and reveling in the chaos that surrounds you. Gekioh also looks decent, though slowdown crops up often and the level of detail never climbs too high. Most of the soundtrack doesn't stand out either, yet it might have the best "Name Entry" screen music I've ever heard. (Somehow, that's the highest praise I can give the game.) And there's one mild annoyance: whoever converted Shienryu from the arcade left out a “TATE” option, which lets you flip your TV on its side and run the game in a full-screen vertical mode. Instead, the game simply imposes the letterboxed field of play over the title. The result is a distractingly ugly border that's always on the periphery of your vision.
Gekioh's most notable feature is a surprising selection of bonus modes that put new spins on the basic game engine. No Mercy Mode is abusively hard, Stingy Mode gives you one fighter and no power-ups, Slow Mode is exactly that, Comical Mode adds a laugh track with each explosion, and Ancient Mode has black-and-white graphics and scratchy audio. Amusing as they are, these revisions are pretty much play-once novelties, with the exception of the entirely new “Pocket Mode.” (See below)
To be terse, Gekioh: Shooting King is the epitome of standard mid-1990s vertical shooters, following the path of top-down classics and never stepping out of it. This may be worth picking up if you're among the faithful lobby of shooter fans, who will get a decent workout from the game's extra modes and bland-yet-adequate structure. However, those interested in a truly impressive example of 2-D shooting should leave Gekioh on the budget racks.
C
Gekioh: Pocket Mode
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In honor of the long-dead Gamefan Magazine, Kidfenris.com proclaims Gekioh: Pocket Mode the best PocketStation shooter ever released in America.
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Sony's PocketStation was a great idea in 1998: a handheld system no larger than a high-capacity memory card. Yet it never came to America, and that kept many from enjoying the tiny unit's ability to play minigames and download content from full-fledged PlayStation titles. (This was, of course, a year before the Dreamcast's superior VMUs hit.) In fact, most of the games that supported the PocketStation had such features removed upon a U.S. debut. Gekioh, however, avoids the need for a PocketStation by packing “Pocket Mode” in with the game's other bonuses.
As simple as shooters get, Gekioh: Pocket Mode offers no backgrounds, no power-ups, and no more than a basic forward-firing attack. Perhaps that's why it comes off as strangely enjoyable. With a constant stream of enemies and responsive controls, Pocket Mode has the same addictive air as Centipede, Xevious, and other classics where you only needed to evade and shoot things. The graphics are primitive but serviceable, and the beeps and bleeps of the explosions are endearing in an antiquated way.
The thought of playing Pocket Mode on a real Pocketstation is disconcerting, as the handheld's controls aren't really suited to a “twitch” title. Yet this little game plays well on a regular system, to the point where it's almost more fun than the main version of Gekioh. We may not have the PocketStation here in America, but at least we now have playable, halfway entertaining proof that it existed.
C+
