A week on the Super Nintendo and Mega Drive diet

The feeling of popping a game into the Super Nintendo with a lush click is still extremely satisfying to this day. I then flip the big, bulky switch upwards and the picture comes on – marvellous. This physical element gives old consoles a down-to-earth feel. It’s something I miss in modern machines, in spite of all their graphic splendour.

The retro experience already starts during unboxing. Especially the Mega Drive (also known as Sega Genesis) games, which come in a bulky case the size of a VHS tape, and include detailed instructions. It makes me feel like I’m getting something for my money. With current games, on the other hand, it’s the polar opposite. Some don’t even include a disc anymore, just a slip of paper with the download code.

A week as a spoiled console kid

Even about 35 years ago, when SNES, Mega Drive, Game Boy and Game Gear came onto the market, it wasn’t the packaging that counted; it was all about what was inside. I’ll find out if that’s the case after my week on a retro diet. To be precise, it’s a working week, in other words, only five days. Any more than that seemed too ambitious. But why have I picked these four consoles in particular? For our theme week, I decided to restrict myself to devices from the same time frame. That way, I can create a fairly authentic scenario.

Now I just have to imagine that I’m a spoiled child of disinterested parents who was given not one, but four consoles. Everyone had at least one friend like that back then. Without a console of my own, I was the freeloader, always inviting myself round to game at others’ houses.

In the meantime, I’ve overcome this trauma, or rather, gone too far in the other direction, trying to compensate for it. As well as being home to various retro consoles, my man cave boasts a 27-inch tube TV. I’ll use it to dive into past times for a week and find out if it’s still fun. As an additional rule, or guideline, I intend to concentrate fully on the game at hand. There won’t be any podcasts or videos in the background. I also want to avoid looking up solutions online. After all, that’s not something I could have done back then either.

OK, let the games commence.

Day 1: kicking off with Zelda

To coincide with the release of the new The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom for Switch, I got myself The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. While I already own several SNES games, I wanted one of the big highlights that I could play over a longer period. But I’m already irritated. Is the sound broken? What’s that thudding noise? A few moments later, I discover the answer: rain. The hero Link wakes up in his bed while it’s pouring down outside. Not the nicest noise, but maybe it’s supposed to sound threatening – I definitely feel uneasy.

The second thing that gives me cause to frown is the controller. I actually have good memories of the grey device with colourful buttons. But now I notice how shaky it is. The control pad doesn’t feel particularly precise either. But hey, I’m not playing Doom; I’ve got an action-adventure game. Although I may have been better off with a first-person shooter. Within 30 minutes, I find myself twice wanting to look up a YouTube video to work out where I need to go. But I stand (or rather sit) firm. And lo and behold, here it is, the secret entrance to the castle. In my head, I give myself a pat on the back.

The next stumbling block awaits me in the castle. Link lights his lantern to brighten the dark rooms. The light beam moves parallel to the character and turns as fast as I press the control pad. As everything is pitch black except for the beam of light, I find the direction changes very exhausting. It’s giving memories of first-gen VR glasses. Having said that, it’s not quite as bad, and after a few moments, I’ve fortunately left the room.

It may not look dramatic, but when playing, I found the abrupt changes in direction very unpleasant.

I have to bite another bullet during dialogues. They’re not set to music. But I can live with that. What’s worse is I actually have to read them. I detest text boxes. But otherwise, I wouldn’t know where to go next. There’s no quest log or anything similar.

The setbacks keep coming thick and fast. For 30 rubies, a fortune teller gives me a clue I’ve already known for a long time. I wish I could rewind, like in our longplay of The Legend of Zelda.

Once again, I’m close to jumping out of my time capsule and consulting the internet. This time it’s about the controls. I can’t work out how to equip objects. The SNES controller has a total of eight buttons and a control pad. It can’t be that difficult. I try all the buttons and combinations. Nothing. Is it the game or is my controller broken? As it happens, it works with the cheap third-party controller from Myiicco. It turns out the issue was the start button. It’s just daft that the X button doesn’t work on this controller. Wait, I think I just need to use more force.

Oh well, normally the rickety second controllers are reserved for guests, but I guess I can’t do anything about that. Slowly, I start to get more into it, but by then it’s already time for bed. And not because my mum will threaten to switch off the power if I don’t. But because I’m 40, have kids and need my sleep.

Day 2: Addam and Indi

I stay loyal to the SNES on the second day as well. But instead of Zelda, I prioritise Addam’s Family. I’ve always wanted to try that. Unfortunately, nothing happens when I first turn on the console. So it’s a case of the good old «blowing into it» trick. Admittedly, this apparently doesn’t help game modules at all and can, in fact, damage them. The air that’s blown in contains moisture, which can reportedly cause corrosion. But it just works – the same as it did 30 years ago.

Addam’s Family is a typical platformer à la Super Mario. I control Addam, who fights his way through a castle full of hovering teapots and fire devils. I’ve no idea what that has to do with the films. The same goes for the stove, which I have to turn off.

My mental strength is challenged after just a few minutes. Getting the timing right to dodge these fire devils takes practice. As a gamer who’s used to quickloading, this really tries my patience. It’s not long before I see the game-over screen for the first time. That’s enough for me for the time being. And we venture on with, drumroll, please: Indiana Jones – Greatest Adventures.

Game adaptations of Hollywood blockbusters were commonplace in the 90s. It’s not all soulless brand sell-outs, whose only highlight is a cover that’s easily recognisable. Indiana Jones is a solid platformer with a familiar soundtrack. However, the game itself is almost impossible. Everything wants to kill me: fish, bats, natives – OK, Indiana probably stole some sacred idols from the latter again. And why does everything that I hit with the whip start to burn?

This game is pure stress. I don’t get a second’s breather. Stones are constantly falling on me, mouldy hands emerging from the ground want to give me deadly foot massages and in mid-jump, I get hit by a blowgun projectile. Back to the start. In comparison, «Dark Souls» is a breeze. On the game-over screen, Sean Connery just shakes his head in disappointment.

Eventually, I have to decide whether I want to play all the way through one of these games and spend the whole week on it – or if I’d rather try a bit of everything. To spare my mental state, I opt for the latter.

Day 3: small display, heaps of joy

To keep things fresh, I dig out my Game Boy. Along with it comes Radar Mission. This game consists of two modes. Game A is your classic ship-sinking concept – so basically, it’s boring. In Game B, you actively hunt enemy ships as a submarine commander. Even back when I played the game at my cousin’s house, this mode was the highlight. Before I can really dive into the game, I notice how bad the Game Boy display is. Unless I play directly under a lamp, I can hardly make out anything on the postage stamp-sized screen.

The sound of Radar Mission, on the other hand, is still great. My torpedoes hit the black and green pixel ships with an amazing, clanging 8-bit explosion. Then the enemy submarine’s captain suddenly appears and sends me to the bottom of the ocean within seconds. Damn. Was it always this hard? The game resembles a speedrun. If I don’t destroy the enemy fleet with fiendish efficiency, the computer always beats me to it. It’s only 15 minutes in and I’m already waving the white flag. I can’t be bothered anymore.

I’ve ogled at Sega Game Gear since I was a kid. A few months ago, I fulfilled the dream of having my own. However, I haven’t used it much. It’s time to change that. So, I borrowed Shinobi 2 from fellow editor Kevin Hofer. It’s at the top of all the Game Gear rankings. The game involves me taking on the role of not one, but several Shinobi fighters. But I have to release them first.

The first thing I notice is the much brighter, larger and more colourful display than that of the Game Boy. It’s a feast for the eyes. Why did the Game Gear never win out against Nintendo’s handheld? I’m also astonished at how light this chunky thing is. Oh, there aren’t any batteries in it, and it needs one, two, three, four, five, six of them. Was this device a collab with Duracell? Fortunately, I have a universal power supply that’s compatible lying around. That’s my cue to flop back on the sofa and start Shinobi.

I can choose from different levels. I decide to opt for the first and find myself in an industrial-looking 2D world. The question of whether the computer-controlled characters I encounter might be friendly or not doesn’t even come up. It’s just the usual case of hitting everything that gets in my way. Speaking of which. I have to find the way myself, as the game isn’t linear. But after just a few minutes of blindly jumping around, I’m faced with the first boss – and moments later, the continue screen.

You see the boss in question at about 12:30 in.

This spider drone’s attack patterns absolutely confound me. I don’t have any time to attack, which isn’t at all fair. At least I have many lives and can carry on the boss fight where I left off. However, they get used up quickly and I have to start all over. Once again, I tell myself to grit my teeth and keep going. 30 failed attempts later, I give up. During that time, I’ve zapped half of the boss’s lives, but that’s all I can do.

I try another level and lo and behold, I win this boss fight at the first try. Maybe I don’t need to chuck in my job after all. I get another Shinobi with new skills. Now I can switch between fighters, depending on who’s more suitable. However, that doesn't save me from walking through a door in the factory level and, the next moment, crashing down through the entire level. Typical 90s game design. Even ninja reflexes wouldn’t have stopped me falling. It’s a matter of trial and error and, once again, patience.

Day 4: saving – no such luck

I stick with Sega but move things up a gear. It’s the Mega Drive’s turn. The highlights are still the large game cases and plugging them into the console. Also, the tube TV, with its big round button and typical sad trombone sound when it’s switched on, never ceases to put a smile on my face.

My grin disappears briefly as the intro to Gunship flickers across the screen. The text is accompanied by deafening shooting noises that sound as if the Mega Drive has crashed. In contrast, the rain in Zelda sounds like relaxing music to fall asleep to.

The baller intro starts from ten seconds and sounds much more hellish on my old TV than on the PC.

The actual game is a solid action feast. First, I control an attack helicopter from the first-person perspective. It’s a welcome change given that most platformers are two-dimensional. As with everything I’ve tried so far, though, Gunship is crisper than a German sausage. The controls take a bit of getting used to. As analogue sticks didn’t exist back then, the helicopter doesn’t fly smoothly. If I had passengers on board, they’d have vomited all over my fittings long ago.

Through my smashed windscreen, I finally shoot the last enemy helicopter out of the sky and get to my real mission: destroying several military targets. This is where the game switches to a sideways 2D perspective. Now enemies are coming from all directions. Just before blisters appear on my thumb from pressing hard on the controls, my beloved helicopter bursts into flames. Gunship won’t stand for any shoddy game-over screens. Nope. Instead, I get to view my funeral with coffin and everything – damn.

Time for something uplifting. How about Aladdin? I always used to play this at the department store Vilan (now Manor). I never made it beyond the first level before the sales assistants shooed me away. Today, no one’s driving me away from my squashy sofa. In terms of sound and design, both are still excellent. As in the 1992 Disney animation, the game starts in the oriental city of Agrabah, where sabre-wielding guards are out to kill me.

Aladdin’s controls are quite spongy, but I soon get used to it. I love the animations of him bouncing across rooftops or guards' trousers falling down when I throw apples at them. However, even this game doesn’t give you an easy ride. I survive every confrontation by the skin of my teeth – and yet I get through the level on my first attempt, which I’m kinda proud of. The second level advances slightly. But there are generously spaced checkpoints, so I don’t have to start over every time. Which is why I’m surprised there’s no password protection that allows you to pick up where you left off the next day. In the past, I’d have left the console on overnight. These days, I’m content with my partial success and go to sleep – and so does the Mega Drive.

Day 5: the end is near – fortunately

My retro week is coming to an end. Thank goodness. Despite the fact I like old consoles, I’d rather fire up my PC. But I have to persevere. This evening, I’m treating myself to a really great classic: Super Mario World. That’s another game I primarily used to play on worn-out machines in shopping centres.

I can’t go far wrong with the old moustache man. The game confirms how extremely precise the controls are. Aladdin, on the other hand, seems as though it’s had too much rice spirit. The soundtrack is also as grandiose as ever. Why don’t I play this more often? Oops, I missed the platform and drowned in liquid chocolate. I need to warm up first – just not in dessert. The second attempt isn’t any better. This time, a hamster with sunglasses messes me around and, once again, I end up in the abyss. After that, I suddenly fail at the first hurdle. Aaaaaargh. Slowly, it dawns on me why I’ve barely finished any of these games. Where’s rewind on the Switch Online when you need it?

Somehow, I finally make it to the end of the level. The saving goalposts are only a few metres away, and I already want to sit back and relax. That’s when a damn football from one of the Koopa hooligans hits me on the backside. You’ll see the red hand print on my forehead for days.

Once I finally reach Wendy’s Castle, I have one life left. Now it’s getting serious. Dodge dinosaur bones, easy. Then jump up with the spring feature. Of course, just at that moment, a pointed column from the ceiling falls on top of me. I’d now need to redo the two previous levels again. Forget it. I’d rather end my retro diet with the game I started with: The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.

The last time I played it, I noticed the map shows the legendary master sword. It’d be silly not to try to get this first. Fifteen minutes later, I was fighting my way through a tangled forest, repeatedly being duped by fake master swords and getting ambushed by invincible robbers. Finally, I’m standing in front of the real master sword. It’s in a wooden truck. I have a sense of foreboding. How could it go any other way? And true to form, I can’t pull the sword out. It was all a waste of time. Yeah yeah, the journey is its own reward and all that – aargh.

Then I decide to go to the dungeons. I hate dungeons. I find them too claustrophobic, linear and cryptic. I push those thoughts aside and head on down. After countless wrong turns, randomly discovered floor switches and stone golems that want to get at my hero leather, I reach the boss. Or rather, the bosses. Because one golem suddenly becomes six and my arrows start running out. With the last of my strength, I crush my last opponent to the gravel and revel at the thought of a new heart container. So it turns out I can do it if I have to. I end my experiment on this feeling.

Verdict: old, annoying, but also charming

Thinking about the likes of Super Nintendo and Game Boy warms my heart. I love old game consoles and the memories they evoke. And the same is still true after this week. However, it confirms what I feared. Namely that most of the old games are hardly playable anymore. They have no saving options, are inaccessible, unfair, too difficult or just plain boring. I can hardly hack it for more than ten minutes with most of the games. Even absolute classics like Zelda or Super Mario put me off quickly.

This experiment clarifies how enormously games have evolved over the last few decades. They offer more gameplay freedom, fewer dead ends, and are better structured to give players the greatest experience possible. Today’s games are incredibly versatile. Everything’s covered. From Hollywood-calibre action adventures, to complex puzzle games that turn everything on its head, to absurd goat simulators that are purely for entertainment.

That’s not to say I didn't have fun with my retro diet. The physical element of game cartridges, in terms of putting them in with a satisfying click, beats any digital play button. The simplicity of these games also has its charm. There aren’t a thousand distractions in the form of quests, collecting tasks and other bits and pieces. Get Indiana to the end of the level in one piece – done. At best, it gets a pixelated nod from Sean Connery.

What’s more, avoiding videos, podcasts and other distractions enhanced the experience. I got more involved with the games than I do with their modern counterparts, where it’s all too quick and easy to reach for your phone or Alt+Tab to YouTube.

I’m glad I’ve finally spent a bit of time with my old consoles. While they hardly stand a chance against the flood of new games coming in the future, I’ll still continue to collect them. Because even if they gather dust on the shelf, they’ve got a permanent place in my heart.