Thoughts on... Castlevania

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Complicated feelings abound for me when I think of my experiences with the original Castlevania. I find it enticing and alluring in its presentation. Its mechanics are at the bedrock of the action-platformer genre, deftly riding the line between challenging and accessible. The monster designs, the hero's design, the sound work, the colour scheme - all of it excels at what it sets out to do.

BUT! I'm very much in the camp of players who don't enjoy being deliberately screwed over by infuriating design decisions in otherwise excellent games. And it saddens me to declare Castlevania as one such game - it really does tread into the realm of unfair one too many times for my liking, despite the surrounding experience being so promising.

For the uninitiated: Castlevania puts you into the boots of Simon Belmont, a monster killer who ventures into Dracula's castle to face off against the infamous vampire himself. Armed with only a whip (albeit one imbued with magic) and whatever special items he picks up along the way, Simon must cut through Vlad's assembled gallery of rogues - dogs, bats, zombies, and so on - to reach that fateful confrontation.

Beyond that, the game's not really interested in fleshing out a complex narrative or exploring deeper themes, instead using the premise as a way to justify a largely action-heavy experience. All told it's an approach that works fine for tossing players into an imposing world, and doesn't get in the way of the game proper. You know the goal, you know the principal players - everything else is tangential.

The true draw lies in the game's delicate mixture of platforming and combat, a tension between forward progression and the need to defend oneself from nearly-unceasing attacks. Very rarely does Castlevania let up on its pitfalls or enemies, instead working Dracula's various allies into levels in devious ways. Sometimes it's the arrival of Medusa Heads floating down an otherwise straight corridor, sometimes it's fish-people waiting below a body of water for you to pass on a moving platform.

It's an approach to game design that, for all of my issues with it, I can appreciate for being so determined and sincere in its desire to be both entertaining and increasingly difficult. Castlevania is nothing if not consistent in presenting raised platforms that demand precise jumps, or moving adversaries that need to be hit at the right moment with Simon's whip. Plus the game does remember to not be completely unfair; strangely edible roast dinners lay hidden behind the odd destructable brick wall, and there's secondary weapons (requiring collectable hearts to use) that can cut down on the frustrations of battle.

Boss battles, in particular, demand regular usage of said extra weapons - the whip just isn't enough to slay some of these beings. These encounters, six in all, seem built to test how well a prospective player has grasped the possibilities and limitations of Simon's move set and equipment. They're certainly a drain on health; going into fights at anything less than full strength is a recipe for disaster so to speak.

That last part ties into my most substantial grievance where Castlevania is concerned: the game can be pretty fucking cruel. For example, those Medusa Heads I mentioned? Yeah, they love showing up whenever a chasm needs to be crossed, ready to knock you into the abyss with one touch. Ooh, then there's Red Skeletons popping back up not long after being slain, fire-shooting objects making it difficult to climb up stairs, Black Knights tossing axes through the air that even after being dodged can still hit you in the back...

I reached my breaking point in the final stretch of Stage 15, when the path to the Grim Reaper boss (Surprise! You fight the Grim Reaper in this!) was blocked by a succession of Medusa Heads and Black Knights using dirty tricks and testing my patience. No matter how hard I may try, the result is always the same - I end up fighting Death with a less-than-suitable secondary weapon and only half health. And since ol' Reaper likes to summon scythes that attack Simon for him, the fight's a losing one.

The bullshit of enemy attack patterns and withheld visual information doesn't become clear until later on, but once it's visible there is no ignoring it. I understand that Castlevania was made in a time when arcade game design was the standard and game developers needed to guarantee kids would play for as long as possible, but... was there no other way than to resort to cheap and borderline unfair malarkey?

Still, as a whole, I admire what Castlevania is doing. It's easily one of the best-looking early NES titles, with its atypical blue-orange colour range blending well with the obvious Gothic and Universal Horror influences. The soundtrack, too, is masterfully composed by Kinuyo Yamashita and Satoe Terashima, deftly contributing to the game's tense mood whilst being compelling on its own. Tightly paced and loving put together as a tribute to classic movie monsters, this is a production I want to embrace whole-heartedly.

'Tis a shame that my affection (and forgiveness) can only extend so far.

-

(Special thanks to Mark Aguirre, friend and Patron. If you'd like to see your name included in future "Special Thanks" sections of critiques, please consider contributing $5 or more to my Patreon fund.)