Princess Peach Showtime Review – Drama Teacher
Princess Peach, the prototypical video game damsel in distress, has had limited success with her own solo adventures. On the rare occasion that she’s playable, she has typically been a sidekick in a larger adventure, like Super Mario RPG. Though she did land a starring role in Super Princess Peach, the game and its core mechanic—in which her powers were defined by wild mood swings—were a miss. Princess Peach Showtime is the latest attempt to make her own story, with nary a Mario or Luigi in sight, and this time she has come more into her own as an adventurer. More importantly, this solo outing seems primed at introducing new players to a wide variety of game genres. While veteran gamers will likely find the pacing too lethargic, it’s nice that Nintendo is making such a clear overture to welcome new players.
And when I say that there’s no Mario or Luigi, I mean at all. Nintendo’s most iconic characters aren’t even present in the intro, when Peach receives an invitation to come see the Sparkle Theater in a land occupied by Theets, little yellow creatures with bulbous noses. Upon arrival, the theater is taken over by a sorceress named Grape and her Sour Bunch goons, who kick out Peach’s loyal Toad companions, misplacing her crown in the process, and proceed to corrupt all the plays. Peach finds a guardian of the playhouse, a fairy named Stella, who accompanies peach by taking the form of a ribbon in her hair. (When Peach puts her hair up into a ponytail, you know it’s getting serious.) Stella is Peach’s default weapon, letting you use a whip-like motion to magically change objects and enemies in the environment, and it’s also the enabler for Peach’s various transformations.
When Peach steps into a corrupted play, she finds a spark that lets her take on the role of its hero. These are broad archetypes like Swordfighter, Cowgirl, and Detective, and the 10 costume types allow for a broad range of different gameplay types. Once you’ve found your costumes in the first version of a stage, future stages of that type will start you with it already equipped. Each floor has four plays to conquer, after which you’ll fight a boss and gain access to the next floor. It’s all very easily understandable and flows nicely.
Since every stage is a sidescroller, I found that the plays felt most natural and familiar when they hewed closest to familiar sidescrolling action game mechanics. But even within those, there was some variety at play. The Swordfighter plays are modeled after a very traditional action game, light parry system included. The Cowgirl, on the other hand, is focused more on ranged attacks with your lasso, and the Kung-Fu stages included some lightly rhythmic fighting game mechanics. My personal favorite was Mighty Peach, a cute take on the henshin hero genre like Ultraman, in which Peach gets a robotic-looking power suit that she uses to fly through the air, take out invading UFOs, and lift buses over her head to throw at enemies or use as makeshift bridges. Those stages played almost like a shoot-em-up, with a unique focus on ricocheting ships and aliens into each other.
Some stages are less combat-focused but still handle like simplified platformers. The Ninja stages are centered on stealth, letting you hold up set dressing to blend in with the grass, or duck underwater and breathe through a reed while sneaking up on enemies. The Dashing Thief is focused mostly on a grappling hook as you run across rooftops. Other stages stray further from the platformer formula, like the Figure Skater stages that let you glide gracefully across the ice as you hit icon-coded stunt points to grab collectibles and ultimately defeat the evil Sour Bunch figure skater rival. The Mermaid stages take place almost entirely underwater and consist mostly of directing your siren singing voice–either to direct a group of fish where to go for solving puzzles, Pikmin-style, or to collect special singing-note fish to compose a song. They’re all variations on a theme to some extent, but they have enough slight differences to act as a rudimentary introduction to disparate game genres.
Then there are the costumes that stray furthest from traditional platforming mechanics, to mixed results. The Patissiere (pastry chef) stages are modeled after timing-based cooking games, as you bake batches of cookies or carefully apply frosting to cakes. These are a nice change of pace that really show the flexibility of the concept. The same can’t be said for the Detective stages, which are the weakest of the bunch. These consist almost entirely of walking around, talking to Theets, and then holding a button to point out an inconsistency with some object in the relatively small room. Even keeping in mind that these mysteries are aimed at younger children, the pace of these segments is particularly dull. From your movement speed to tracking something with your magnifying glass to holding the button to call out an inconsistency, everything feels just a little slower than it should be.
That said, the Detective stages, like all of the stages, carry an excellent eye for set design. Princess Peach Showtime works on two levels, as you have to both visually understand the goals and mechanics of the stage itself, while also taking notice that these are ultimately supposed to be stage plays. Many of the props and backgrounds are designed to look like stagecraft, and moving parts like Mighty Peach’s alien enemies or your Cowgirl’s trusty steed are made to look like puppetry, with seams and barely-visible strings. It’s a lovely, subtle touch that really sells the worldbuilding of the Sparkle Theater. The boss designs are equally inventive, as they’re built to look like pieces of behind-the-scenes stage pieces that have been cursed into fearsome beasts, like a massive snake made out lighting rigging to make up its segmented body.
As you proceed through each stage, you’ll find coins, as well as sparks that are ultimately used to gate access to each boss. These are plentiful enough that I never had to backtrack for more, which is a welcome change from other recent Nintendo games with similar gating structures. Your coins, meanwhile, can be used to purchase additional dress designs for Peach and ribbon colors for Stella. This isn’t very impactful, given that most of your time is spent in plays where Peach will be changed into her stage-appropriate costume, but it’s nice to see your customized Peach when she’s exploring the main floors of the theater at least. As you progress, you’ll also unlock special stages to rescue Sparklas, the Theet embodiment of each of the play’s characters, as well as elements like timed challenge stages. These serve as the culmination of the individual stories, and while they still aren’t very difficult, they are among the most challenging parts of the game. That should be enough to give the target audience the sense of a difficulty ramp. Plus, all of these collectibles means there’s plenty to do for completionists, but the gating isn’t so aggressive that it’s likely to frustrate players–especially the younger players who seem to be the target.
And just as Mario games have never been known for their strong stories, Princess Peach doesn’t escape that issue in her own solo outing. Grape is a typical evil cackling villain with a barely-stated plan or motivations. We never even get a clear idea of whether she intended to attack the theater while Peach was there, or if that was happenstance. This is too bad because the final confrontation is a gameplay highlight, ending on a high note that would be even better if we’d been given a more compelling villain to defeat. If anything, the stories in the individual plays themselves are often more interesting, thanks in part to some great, so-goofy-it’s-fun writing and animation work.
Princess Peach Showtime is a friendly, inviting game that’s made to be easy to digest. Some of the genres work better than others in this format, but none of them are too tricky or off-putting, and most of it will come down to personal taste. None of these stages are fleshed out enough to support their own game, but they’re an invitation for novice gamers to explore a bunch of different game types, with a charming (and apparently polymath) princess offering her gloved hand to welcome them in.
Sand Land Review – Tanks A Lot
The main character in this open-world action-RPG adaptation of the late Akira Toriyama’s Sand Land is arguably its egg-shaped tank. Developer ICLA has crafted a game with a heavy emphasis on vehicular combat and traversal, which is a fitting design choice considering Toriyama’s love and passion for anything with a motor. You only have to glance at the number of vehicles featured in the Dragon Ball series to appreciate the legendary artist’s vehicular love affair. As iconic and instantly recognizable as Toriyama’s character designs are, his unique vehicle designs are just as evocative and essential to his signature world-building. Whether it’s a car, scooter, hovercraft, or airship, Toriyama’s anomalous designs are a delight, and Sand Land’s bulbous tank is one of his best, mixing his characteristics with historical influences to create a memorable piece of machinery. ICLA’s Sand Land might lack substance beneath its oozing style, but sitting behind the cockpit of some of Toriyama’s intricately designed vehicles is a near-constant treat, even if it falters elsewhere.
The first half of the game’s story is a faithful retelling of the original 14-chapter one-shot manga released in 2000. Set in the titular wasteland, Sand Land centers on a desert world suffering from an extreme water shortage, where sci-fi, fantasy, action, and comedy intertwine. You play as the rambunctious pink-skinned demon prince, Beelzebub, a video game-obsessed fiend who’s as good as gold despite his protestations otherwise. Alongside the stern-faced Sheriff Rao and your wise old pal, Thief, you embark on a quest to uncover a rumored water source that will hopefully restore Sand Land to life. The second half of the game’s narrative covers the brand-new events featured in the recently released anime adaptation. While the first six episodes of the show rehash the familiar ground of the manga, the last seven episodes function as a sequel to the original story, with Toriyama conceptualizing a fresh tale that sees Beelzebub, Rao, and Thief embroiled in a lopsided war after venturing into the neighboring Forest Land.
Sand Land might not be as popular as Toriyama’s other works, such as Dragon Ball and Dr. Slump, but despite its niche nature, its recent resurgence isn’t without merit. The characters and world-building found in Sand Land are its greatest strength, and these elements are seamlessly translated into the game. The relationship between Beelzebub, Rao, and Thief is just as charming as it was on the page, while the game’s open world gives their conversations and banter space to breathe as you travel between locations. These moments excel when pulling lines straight from the manga, but pockets of incidental dialogue have a habit of repeating over and over again, which quickly becomes grating to the point where I wish I could’ve muted it completely.
Fortunately, the story itself is well told, meshing a whimsical child-like wonder with more profound explorations of prejudice, trauma, corporate greed, and the ecologism that exists in a world ravaged by humans. One of Sand Land’s main themes is a self-reflective notion not to judge a book by its cover, and Rao’s backstory focuses on the horrors of war and genocide and how they can still impact people decades after the fact. The entire core cast of characters is also well-layered, informed by their past lives while learning and growing as they unearth more information about the world and each other. The plethora of optional side quests tend to be verbose, even when their contents aren’t particularly interesting or original. Some of these tales do at least expand on Toriyama’s world-building, though, showing how regular people live and survive in the harshness of Sand Land’s vast desert landscape.
Aside from its narrative, another area where the game captures one of the manga’s core aspects is its focus on imaginative vehicles. You have access to various two- and four-wheeled machines that can be swapped on the fly as you traverse Sand Land’s open world. The iconic tank is the star of the show, sputtering fumes from its exhaust pipes as its undulating treadwheels glide over the sand; it’s surprisingly nimble despite its bulky frame, lending combat a sense of fluidity as you dodge incoming fire and pepper enemy tanks with your own booming cannon. You also have access to a secondary weapon–typically something automatic like a Gatling gun–that can be used to dispatch foot soldiers and some of the smaller beasts you’ll encounter. This creates a satisfying flow to combat as you swap between weapons while one is reloading and outmaneuver your enemies using the tank’s speed boost and inherent agility.
Customization is a significant part of the experience, allowing you to swap out either of the tank’s weapons with new and upgraded parts. There isn’t much variety in how these weapons handle, however–one cannon might fire slightly faster than another or inflict burning damage, but they still feel very much the same. Crafting new parts is also overly cumbersome, as the game doesn’t let you compare what you’re building with what you currently have equipped. Enemies scale to your level, too, so there isn’t a tangible sense of progression, even as you install new parts with higher damage output. This is disappointing and takes away from the customization’s potential. Even so, Sand Land’s tank-based action is still fun, with rewarding shooting, despite a lack of evolution. Additional cooldown-based abilities–of which you can equip one–add another element to combat. These can be focused on defense, granting you extra armor or an interception system that shoots down incoming missiles, or they can be more offensive abilities like an explosive laser or an outrigger that locks the tank in place, allowing you to rapidly fire the main cannon while stationary.
Additional vehicles include a motorbike, hovercar, dirt buggy, and jump-bot, among others. Each has its own set of weapons for use in a pinch, but these vehicles are primarily focused on traversal. The motorbike, for instance, is the fastest way to get around Sand Land’s open world, to the point where it can cross quicksand without sinking. The jump-bot, meanwhile, is a lumbering two-legged machine that lets you leap great heights to navigate the game’s various platforming sections. You might try the motorbike’s shotgun or the car’s guided-missile system in combat, but considering you can just swap to the tank at any time, the other vehicles feel superfluous once bullets start flying. The Battle Armor you unlock towards the end of the game is the only exception, mainly because it lets you uppercut enemy tanks into the air.
When you’re not piloting one of these vehicles, Sand Land takes a notable dip in quality. Being a demon prince, Beelzebub is no slouch when fighting hand-to-hand. There’s a typical mix of light and heavy attacks, plus a dodge, and you can unlock both passive and active abilities for Rao and Thief, including a personal tank Rao will pilot to help you out. Not that you’ll need much assistance. Sand Land’s melee combat is simplistic, with a string of light attacks all that’s required to defeat most enemies. Sometimes you’ll need to dodge incoming attacks–telegraphed by your opponent glowing red–and Beelzebub has a few unlockable abilities for dealing extra damage to more formidable enemies. Fighting multiple threats at once is its greatest challenge, only because there’s no way to swap between targets when locked on, resulting in an awkward back and forth. It doesn’t take long for this ponderous dance to grow stale, with the only saving grace being that melee combat isn’t too frequent.
The same can be said for Sand Land’s rudimentary stealth sections. Trial and error is the name of the game here, with an instant fail state present whenever you’re spotted. Fortunately, these clandestine moments are straightforward enough to navigate without attracting prying eyes. The main issue is that your crouched movement is slow and monotonous, offering a change of pace that wasn’t desired. Stealth also tends to occur in samey military bases, which is also an issue elsewhere. You’re forced to traverse the innards of near-identical crashed ships multiple times throughout the game, which only adds to the inane repetition of its stealth and melee combat.
The abundance of side quests are similarly bland, often tasking you with killing a certain number of enemies to either save someone or acquire crafting materials. Sometimes, you might have to search ancient ruins for a specific item or win one of the desert races, but you’re mostly just repeating the same tasks for different reasons. Most of these quests revolve around the town of Spino and your efforts to make it somewhere people would want to live. You’ll complete quests for the likes of traders and farmers that lead to them joining the town and gradually growing it throughout the game. The quests themselves might be dull, but watching the town’s progress is rewarding, especially when it comes with the convenience of putting everything you need in a single hub. It’s just a shame the process behind the town’s resurgence isn’t more engaging.
The story behind Sand Land’s creation is funny but also sad in a way. Toriyama initially made Sand Land for his own personal enjoyment, devising a short story about an old man and his tank. However, the tank proved more challenging to draw than expected, and since Toriyama stubbornly insisted on drawing everything himself, he came to regret the idea. He persevered anyway, eventually releasing the manga for public consumption, and his pain was certainly our gain. Toriyama’s love of vehicles shines through in Sand Land and is where its most enjoyable moments reside. It’s disappointing that it flounders in other areas, particularly when it comes to stealth and melee combat, but ICLA has still managed to capture the heart and spirit of the original manga through its story, characters, and vehicular combat and traversal. Sand Land is bittersweet in many ways, but it’ss a testament to Toriyama’s talents as both an artist and storyteller that, despite its numerous flaws, it’s still worth playing.