Barge, kick and elbow your way through with Nintendo's surliest anti-hero
Wario is an unlikely hero, all in all. His story begins in Super Mario Land 2 for the original brick-sized Game Boy, where his appearance as the final boss was that of a bulbous headed, slightly lop-sided and blood-curdlingly ugly troll. He was less of an evil counterpart to Mario and more of a badly deformed twin who the plumber's family bundled into a special home and quietly forgot about; to look at him back then you'd be forgiven for being a bit mystified as to how he could have achieved enough popularity to completely supersede Mario in the next series instalment and transform into a whole new franchise in his own right.
But do so he did indeed, and over the course of two games his appearance was refined from a doughy-faced gremlin into a sneering, leering slab of pork, his frame squat and bullish in comparison to Mario's inoffensive jolliness, with a series of bad-tempered kicks and shoulder-barges and an irate throwing arm comprising his attack range. Here was a character that was, and still is to this day, a delightfully blunt antithesis to Nintendo's pantheon of heroes, bashing his way with bloody-minded abandon in search of nothing more than filthy, filthy riches. Wario is an absolute jerk, and as is generally the case with video games, being bad is always so much more fun than being good.
What makes this instalment unique to its predecessor is that Wario is incapable of dying; he is, however, able to be squashed, shrunk, zombified and generally take a hefty pounding from his enemies, with numerous transformations taking place over the course of his adventure. Being squashed as flat as a pancake is generally considered a hindrance, but for Wario it's the opportunity to post himself through razor-thin gaps before being brought back up to size. Power-ups are a dime-a-dozen in video games, but Wario's transformations feel as though they are incidentally useful, being activated not by stars or boxes, but by the kind of savage torture usually reserved for horror films. If the Mushroom Kingdom needed a PSA warning against the dangers of mushroom abuse, Wario would pull through with the stomach-churning footage they need.
It's still a Nintendo game, though, and is no less hilarious to look at now than it was then, and it's remarkable just how well Wario Land 2 has aged; the game has a pleasingly solid feel to it, like you're staring through to a real, blocky, monochromatic world behind the screen. Enemies are deftly animated beyond being mere sprites, looking about, jumping at the sight of you and being head-bounced into wide-eyed alarm. Even depth of field effects like seagulls that fly away and back again, a clever take on the collapsing platform, are handled well on a distinctly low-res handheld.
But the real star is the music, which manages that rare feat of achieving a sense of softness and depth on hardware that few would imagine was capable of anything but. The Gameboy is still a popular choice for chiptune artists, and this is a prime example of why that is. Catchy and varied, the soundtrack is as hummable as any 8-bit tune you'd care to mention, yet remains aware that more can be wrung from its sound chip than pacey beeps and blips. The first level, in which Wario has to shut off his alarm clock, is, dare I say it, an almost pedestrian affair. Placing a plodding riff over and around the rhythmic blaring of the alarm clock, Nintendo turned that 6AM-on-a-Monday feel into 8-bit magic; I may even start using it as my own alarm sound. Given how brash our anti-hero Wario is, on a console replete with games that are hardly renowned for their subtlety, that's pretty good going.
And since we're on the subject of that first level, let me say that it exemplifies better than any stage of the game the quirky puzzle elements that are weaved throughout the level design. The game branches into multiple pathways, but it isn't until hitting the credits for the first time that you'll see the map itself, and it's here that you can see a new pathway snaking out from the very first stage. You'll hunt all around for an alternative exit, but the solution is so much simpler: Wario begins the level asleep, only waking at a button press. No self-respecting gamer is going to waste time not pressing buttons, so they're unlikely to realise that after a minute of blissful napping, Wario is set upon by the invading pirates and promptly chucked out the window. Only now can you play through the new storyline, in which Wario breaks into his own castle and barges his way through a now-entrenched army of buccaneers.
With a good fifty levels to clear and hidden treasure for every one, Wario Land 2 is more than sizeable enough to while away a long car journey. With exceptional sound and visuals, it's an excellent showcase for the amount of life, personality and humour that can be wrung out of a seemingly underpowered machine, showing just why the Gameboy held on to its throne for so many years. If you've ever wanted your platform hero to drop the heroics and boot someone in the face, Wario might be just what you've been looking for.
But do so he did indeed, and over the course of two games his appearance was refined from a doughy-faced gremlin into a sneering, leering slab of pork, his frame squat and bullish in comparison to Mario's inoffensive jolliness, with a series of bad-tempered kicks and shoulder-barges and an irate throwing arm comprising his attack range. Here was a character that was, and still is to this day, a delightfully blunt antithesis to Nintendo's pantheon of heroes, bashing his way with bloody-minded abandon in search of nothing more than filthy, filthy riches. Wario is an absolute jerk, and as is generally the case with video games, being bad is always so much more fun than being good.
What makes this instalment unique to its predecessor is that Wario is incapable of dying; he is, however, able to be squashed, shrunk, zombified and generally take a hefty pounding from his enemies, with numerous transformations taking place over the course of his adventure. Being squashed as flat as a pancake is generally considered a hindrance, but for Wario it's the opportunity to post himself through razor-thin gaps before being brought back up to size. Power-ups are a dime-a-dozen in video games, but Wario's transformations feel as though they are incidentally useful, being activated not by stars or boxes, but by the kind of savage torture usually reserved for horror films. If the Mushroom Kingdom needed a PSA warning against the dangers of mushroom abuse, Wario would pull through with the stomach-churning footage they need.
It's still a Nintendo game, though, and is no less hilarious to look at now than it was then, and it's remarkable just how well Wario Land 2 has aged; the game has a pleasingly solid feel to it, like you're staring through to a real, blocky, monochromatic world behind the screen. Enemies are deftly animated beyond being mere sprites, looking about, jumping at the sight of you and being head-bounced into wide-eyed alarm. Even depth of field effects like seagulls that fly away and back again, a clever take on the collapsing platform, are handled well on a distinctly low-res handheld.
But the real star is the music, which manages that rare feat of achieving a sense of softness and depth on hardware that few would imagine was capable of anything but. The Gameboy is still a popular choice for chiptune artists, and this is a prime example of why that is. Catchy and varied, the soundtrack is as hummable as any 8-bit tune you'd care to mention, yet remains aware that more can be wrung from its sound chip than pacey beeps and blips. The first level, in which Wario has to shut off his alarm clock, is, dare I say it, an almost pedestrian affair. Placing a plodding riff over and around the rhythmic blaring of the alarm clock, Nintendo turned that 6AM-on-a-Monday feel into 8-bit magic; I may even start using it as my own alarm sound. Given how brash our anti-hero Wario is, on a console replete with games that are hardly renowned for their subtlety, that's pretty good going.And since we're on the subject of that first level, let me say that it exemplifies better than any stage of the game the quirky puzzle elements that are weaved throughout the level design. The game branches into multiple pathways, but it isn't until hitting the credits for the first time that you'll see the map itself, and it's here that you can see a new pathway snaking out from the very first stage. You'll hunt all around for an alternative exit, but the solution is so much simpler: Wario begins the level asleep, only waking at a button press. No self-respecting gamer is going to waste time not pressing buttons, so they're unlikely to realise that after a minute of blissful napping, Wario is set upon by the invading pirates and promptly chucked out the window. Only now can you play through the new storyline, in which Wario breaks into his own castle and barges his way through a now-entrenched army of buccaneers.
With a good fifty levels to clear and hidden treasure for every one, Wario Land 2 is more than sizeable enough to while away a long car journey. With exceptional sound and visuals, it's an excellent showcase for the amount of life, personality and humour that can be wrung out of a seemingly underpowered machine, showing just why the Gameboy held on to its throne for so many years. If you've ever wanted your platform hero to drop the heroics and boot someone in the face, Wario might be just what you've been looking for.
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