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Review: King of Fighters ‘95 |
All great things start from little, lesser things. At least, that’s the mindset that I had when I approached King of Fighters ‘95. Over the past few months, I played or at least sampled every King of Fighters game, be it via the local arcade or through the power of (roar) ROMs and Neo Rage. Every game, bar one: ‘95.
My memory of this particular installment was pretty fuzzy. I know that it signaled the entrance of Iori and Billy into the big picture, and had an overpowered Rugal as the boss. I also remembered it being played only a handful of times back in the day, and quickly neglected as other, newer titles came along. Why did King of Fighters ‘95 age so badly? What were the perks and quirks that defined this game? Why the hell did they remove the clothes rip after this game? To answer these questions and more, I decided to investigate by playing through a couple of times. To lull you into a coma This review has been sprinkled with a few choice screenshots, along with my attempt at caption comedy. :B
The major gameplay change of King of Fighters ‘95 over King of Fighters ‘94. Two words: TEAM EDIT. No longer will you limit yourself to choosing one of the eight teams and thus selecting the three characters wholesale. You can now mix and match among the 24 characters (and two hidden ones, which I will get to later). This wonderful, since it dispels the “I like Guy A and Guy B, but Guy C is a fag and I don’t want him on my team” feeling that I had while playing ‘94. Another thing that I noticed is that ‘95 introduced the C+D knockdown attacks. They feel slow and clumsy in this game though, and I feel that hey have yet to reach the usefulness that they possess in the later games of the series. Other than these, the mechanics seem to be pretty much King of Fighters ‘94 (or ‘97/’98 Extra Mode for those of you who got into the series much later) to me. A brief rundown: You manually charge the super bar using A+B+C, and when you’re down to red life you can perform DM’s as often as you wish without charging. You can avoid projectiles and other attacks using the A+B dodge. And you move around with the forward hop, retreat, and up-forward and up-away diagonal small jumps.
Iori sees into the future in ‘95: “Yes, I see a bright future for you, young lady. Did I say ‘bright’? I meant ‘glazed’! Ahahahaha”
Whoops! I think I hit a little too hard. Sorry, sis.
I shall now give a brief account of the one player game, since it has humored and amused me in more ways than one. At the start, you are given the option of whether to use the Team Edit feature or not. Choosing “no” makes you choose a fixed team of three characters. And off you go, dodging, charging, and kicking butt.
After winning four fights, the game then enters a cutscene where Rugal is conversing with Vice (o God yes), commenting on how promising your team is.
Very nice indeed
Apparently, this is the Gigantic Pressure that we didn’t know about
Ah, God. Engrish, you gotta love it.
Call me crazy, but I actually liked fighting Rugal in this game. Sure, he’s a monster, with nearly full-screen God Press, fast projectiles, high priority normals, and a Genocide Cutter that make angels cry (the damage scaling issues this game has doesn’t help either). But what makes him fun is that you can actually brawl with him. It’s quite unlike the “AI vacuum” Rugal of the later King of Fighters games wherein you have to stick to stupid, gimmicky methods to defeat him. Here you can trade hits with him if you dare, and just be a tad more alert and cautious than you would in a “normal” match, and you’ll win.
Beat Rugal and watch him die as his body cannot contain the immense power within him. But before he does go, he makes one final promise:
Presentation-wise, the game is astounding for its time. The backgrounds are absolutely gorgeous. From the Psycho Soldier’s waterfalls, to the Women’s Team’s dance floor, to the Ikaris’ helicopter in the desert (first a crash in the jungle, now in a desert- hell, get a new pilot)-they’re all so detailed and full of life. Rugal’s stage is menacing, yet hilarious too, with a nuclear-missile-silo-or-giant-dildo-something in its midst. The in game art is much better when compared to the previous installment. Gone is the “old fart” or “run over by a truck” look that most of the cast sported in their ‘94 win portraits. Here, we see a new, animé-like depiction of our favorite guys and gals. And I’m glad that this theme stuck (except for 2001) for all succeeding King of Fighters games.
Sadly, the sprites are shit. They look bulky, clumsy, and I daresay garish for the most part. Some of the animations were “eh” as well. It was a good thing that SNK decided to do redraws in ‘96. The only positive thing I can say about ye sprites of olde is that King and Yuri lose their shirts upon KO if you hit them hard enough (say, a fireball or uppercut finish).
For all its flaws, this is one reason to play this game every now and then
So here I am, having played through King of Fighters ‘95, and now I possess answers to some of the questions I had initially asked myself. King of Fighters ‘95 is a good fighter, but not a great one. As far as “great things from lesser things go”, the Team Edit is its greatest contribution to the series. It has excellent presentation, but I feel that the damage scaling thing may have been a turn off for many players. It feels so rudimentary. And as there where other better games at the time (Tekken and Virtua Fighter had taken off, Super Turbo still had people hooked if I remember correctly, and I believe Marvel Super Heroes was released at the time too), it could not attract enough gamers, and thus it aged badly. Still, it’s great for reminiscing.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have something to attend to. That “something” involves save states, screen caps, King, Yuri, and clothes ripping. Where the hell did I place my tissues?
