SUPER CASTLEVANIA IV - Study No. 7

Replacing the map of the surrounding landscape is one of Dracula's castle, somewhat abstractly showing what the order of business will be, and accompanied by a turbulent keyboard (harpsichord or piano?) tune. Each large tile at the end of a path designates a boss, but the route in fact extends to the clocktower, bridge, and pinnacles to the upper right -- something that may have surprised a few players back when. Stage 6 is the classic entry halls, seen in the NES trilogy (albeit in a reduced form for CV2), most recognizable for their large gray columns and red tattered curtains. CV4 opts for discontinuing the pattern of having "Vampire Killer" play in this setting, and instead inserts an original courtly composition for organ and strings, bereft of any percussion or motor rhythms.

These entry halls retain a couple of the details from CV3's (block 8) -- sculptures of robed women set upon pedestals in arched recesses, and frame-like moldings with angled edges (not appearing until block 6-2). Returning, too, are the shuffling groups of zombies and bats, which now hang from upper walls and wait for Simon to get close enough before swooping down. A couple of zombie canines are also present, possibly as a stand-in for CV1's panthers. They'll crumple to the floor from a whip hit, but right themselves a few seconds later and continue running about. Simon's sprite here is taller relative to the surroundings than it is in CV1/3, but there is still a sense of scale gained from the retention of the columns whose capitals are obscured, making you wonder how far up they go.

The lower shot is from the Japanese version, and shows that the sculptures were partly nude before being made "decent" for the American/European versions. You can see differences between the HUDs, too: the Japanese version's text and numbers are darker and more dimensional. There are several other changes, like the game's logo, the Japanese version of which is shown crowning the map in this post's two first images. I prefer it to the English logo. The blood-dripping characters have a weapon-like malice, the purple-to-red color scheme is closer to evoking SCV4's weird palettes, and the castle silhouette is a sort of redundant touch, and funner for its excess than the plaque.

 

Axe Knights didn't show up until CV1's fifth and penultimate stage, and were rightfully treated as a higher level enemy for their resilience and ability to attack with projectile axes that could be thrown higher or lower, and returned, in magical-boomerang-like fashion, to their owners after a couple of seconds. Although they were still formidable in CV3, the Knights appeared earlier on in the adventure and in more than one stage, and their presence (not quantitatively) was somewhat lessened. One of these stages was the entry halls, and that's perhaps why the Knights are in SCV4's variant. They're certainly more interesting than most other carried-over enemies, just by virtue of intrinsically having more complexity than the typical Castlevania enemy, yet in many cases they're missing the particular challenges their patterns can bring. Simon can, as he could with the Bone Pillars, dangle the whip and nullify their axes; and, of course, he can attack from below structures. So, Axe Knights can't really function by themselves or even with architecture that, traditionally, might've been suited to the Knights' behavior -- to function, they need other enemies to come into the picture and complicate things. To the game's credit, it does attempt to do this with a smattering of platforms (atypically without supports) that limit ease of movement near the first two Knights and several adjacent bats. This would be a more exciting introduction if SCV4 had kept the classic steady stream of bats, fluttering in from either side of the screen, and not made them one-time threats.

Up a flight of steps, assumedly at the halls' upper limits, Simon needs to utilize massive swinging chandeliers and small (again unsupported) platforms to progress to the left, over a deadly drop. The void-like background hums between black and a dark red, and the candles' flames flicker and bend to match the chandeliers' swaying. Even if the hardest work to be done is some timed jumps to get across the chandeliers, it's a memorable section for its sparse but strange imagery and the way that this imagery introduces and augments the drama of the stage's spiny second theme.

On to a sort of grand hall, patrolled first of all by more Axe Knights, with shadowy aisles on the side for ghostly dining. Not for the first time do we see the game's love affair with purples and greens (for some reason, in this instance, I'm reminded of a few rooms from Aria of Sorrow's Castle Corridor). I'm fond of the columns' and walls' craggy, irregular textures; they're a neat contrast against the relatively elegant affects of the chandeliers, dining tables, candelabras, and the floor's trim stonework. You'll want to mind the chandeliers, since they fall when Simon is underneath them. This is an idea that would return for a segment of Bloodlines' fifth stage, the Palace of Versailles. One of the game's two most well hidden secrets is after the first two chandeliers, and I can't imagine anyone discovering it thanks to anything aside from sheer luck. To access it, you need to whip (no, none of the relics will do) a part of the floor that crumbles and reveals a staircase leading down.

Below we find a candle-lined chamber holding a bounty of items, including every relic and a potroast. What makes this spot exceptional is that it was used by the developers as an opportunity to flesh out the world, and is, as far as I can tell, the first example of a Castlevania game using one of its secrets to take some sort of narrative and atmospheric liberty. On top of having its own lengthy theme, by far the most lighthearted piece of the soundtrack, the room is patrolled by the ghosts of a man and his dog, which runs along the lower floor and weirdly rebounds off of its walls in arcing leaps. The only way to safely get to the bottom half is to attack the dog, since it hurts Simon -- but, once struck, the dog falls to the ground, prompting its owner to run to its side, kneel and sob with a hand to his face, and fade away. It's interesting to see the game attempt to foster a little empathic moment -- another case of an ostensibly kitschy action game deviating from expectations. Dawn of Sorrow brought the man and dog back as a persistent enemy called the Dead Mate in its Silenced Ruins area. This wasn't so memorable, aside from the novelty of seeing an obscurity resurrected.

If we're to return to the main path, Ectoplasms, flashing a variety of colors, intrude on the scene with "screensaver object" behavior -- bouncing off of the edges of the screen while adhering to a diagonal course -- and a group of reclining dead noblewomen take to the air, hovering about and homing in with surprising speed. Both of these enemies call upon the whip's new capabilities, or the axe subweapon, and their combined efforts make for a welcome and interestingly messy scuffle. I've always felt that the nobelwomen/men had a sort of unsettling appearance (as much as a sprite from a 90s videogame can be unsettling) for their lack of facial features, even if Simon is similarly lacking.

Messing up the quickness of your jumps in the first screenshot either means needing to repeat a part of the stage or death, since the spikes underlining the platforms are instant-killers. On the third floor, players are met with another nice moment of tension due to good, simple enemy placement: a skeleton advances towards Simon, right next to a pit of deadly spikes. Brave or Grave.

Right after, we have our first encounter with a possessed coffin. It stands upright and shudders, giving us reason to worry, but it can't be attacked -- not until it's passed by, at which point it will give chase at such a speed that turning around to retaliate is ill-advised, unless you're holding the cross subweapon and preemptively use its boomerang behavior to hit the coffin twice. This chase scene is very short, but it does make players contend with skeletons to get ahead unharmed. You'll notice that the screenshot is of the Japanese version; this is to show that the coffins have a cross symbol on their covers that was removed in the EU/USA versions. Konami's occidental division was apparently deathly afraid of any outrage from Christian denominations regarding imagery. But the game is so very full of potentially objectionable elements, such as promoting the lifestyle of skeletons, that the imagined battle could never have been won without revamping the game on a fundamental artistic level. The aforementioned mouldings from CV3's entry halls can also be seen here.

Red skeletons make their return in this hallway, felled by a snap of the whip but rising again soon after to resume their patrol. To avoid getting pincered by them and whip skeletons, you'll want to keep moving. Mostly I've included a screenshot of this section because I think it looks great, especially with those scrolled capitals, the gray wall's shading that bolsters the foreground arches' presence, and the recesses holding bony remains. The foreground is its own separately scrolling layer.

A thunderstorm can be seen illuminating the clouds outside windows on the fourth floor. This could be the strangest example of level design in the game. Ghoulish hands reach out of the wall, flexing their fingers, and each one is coupled with frozen, flickering skeletal knight. The idea here is that getting grabbed by the hands causes a knight to come to life and attack. This can be dealt with either by whipping the knight before its sword's strike can land or by crouch-walking under the hands, thus circumventing getting grabbed. To me this is strange because the interactive terms are very vaguely expressed, most of all because you don't know what's going on with the skeletal knights when you first see them -- why aren't they moving? will they hurt me if I touch them? is the game glitching? I assume most players will crouch-walk their way through.

A rotating circle of coffins (note that the cross symbol is replaced by a rectangular impression) show the developers having a bit of fun, sort of in the same vein as stage 4's rotating room. The fifth floor is where the stage's most exciting action happens. I suppose it's meant to be a mishmash of a dining and dance hall. Details from the entrance return with new accents and inclusions that make for a more grandiose effect, like the coffered ceiling and the closer columns that appear to have detached shafts. As Simon advances, ghostly couples materialize and dance around the chamber -- a vivid concept (with apparently a lot of appeal, judging by fan projects) that wouldn't reappear until Aria of Sorrow. Simultaneously, possessed dining tables obstruct Simon's way, but they can be destroyed before they flip out if they're whipped from a certain distance. The trick here is to balance a need to keep walking, dodging, and attacking with having to occasionally stop to get the tables out of the way.

It's fairly doable to not get hit by the stage's boss, the Dancing Spectres, but this is, in my opinion, actually one of the game's most successful bosses. Besides serving as a kind of climax to the theme of waltzing spirits, the Spectres' behavior -- twirling about, thrusting forward with a rapier, and causing a trio of possessed arrows to appear -- necessitates full use of the arena. They flash in and out of sight, making the tracking of their movement more difficult than it would otherwise be. This fight is as much about getting your hits in as it is about staying a step ahead via the platforms (and after several prior cases of floating platforms, it's cool to see these blocks so nicely contextualized). Of course, the cross subweapon, as usual, is -- if you have it -- a tool of destruction, but I find it hard to get worked up about What-Ifs when the fight in this case is so fundamentally sound and thematically germane.

Next time, we'll be exploring a favorite stage of mine, the Unliving Quarters, or library.

SUPER CASTLEVANIA IV - Study No. 6

Here it is: the last outdoor stage. At its end waits Dracula's castle. True to what may be expected by now by readers and players, SCV4's castle lead-up is dramatically downplayed. Another traditionally designed title such as Rondo of Blood might see the player trudging under the mantle of a thunder storm and engaging in mini-boxing matches with axe armors to the lively tune of "Vampire Killer"; but SCV4 erects minimal resistance and continues its gray-headed sort of (as an acquaintance observed) "Slough of Despond" theme with a fertile yet depressed setting, and an initial musical piece that subsists on tromping drums and unadorned, premonitory woodwind/brass melodies.

Stage 5 has you first ascend several tiers of paths, away from the ground level of a swamp. The first monsters you're bound to run into are a claw (a floating, disembodied arm premiering in stage 2 that latches onto Simon and drains his hearts), a couple of gargoyles zooming down from an upper corner, and several bone pillars -- all obstacles in the most basic sense. A blue trail lined on one side by spiny tufts of animated grass and, on the other, by muck-green accretions leads the way. Around the middle/upper-middle of the stage's height is a large stone wall with recesses holding red, pulsing lights, neither flames nor explicitly supernatural. SCV4 has sporadic issues in a couple of stages with enemies disappearing if you retreat from a spot and then return, and stage 5 is such a stage. For example, the bone pillar in the above screenshot might be absent depending on how your navigation controls the screen-space.

Making this weirder is that stage 5 is where harpies carrying fleamen (a reference to Castlevania's fourth stage, although the carriers there were large birds) make their first and only appearance, and have the possibility of appearing not at all (their emergence seems to depend on slow and/or halting player-movement). Curiously, the fleaman sprite in all versions of SCV4 was drawn to reflect the appearance -- that of a vampiric rabbit -- of fleamen in the Japanese version of CV3. You can defeat the harpies and, as SCV4 calls them, gremlins at once if you whip the harpies before their unloading.

At the upper level, the overall route flattens out and becomes several straight paths punctuated by pits and platforms, which are nicely still contextualized by being attached to wooden rods. Like the rest of the stage's design, the platforming is more of a formality than a reflexive challenge, even with the couple of gargoyles and bone pillars in your way. Golden-brown leaves adorning the screen's top reinforce the autumnal flavor that's been hovering about in other stages. The harpies/gremlins can still appear, but, as before, they can pretty reliably be avoided by not stalling. A few of stage 2's details -- the purple-trunked trees, grass, and strata -- reappear in the background.

The soundtrack does something interesting in block two: it plays the opening to the prologue's, in fact Dracula's, theme, and then hooks it into the minimal piece that plays at stage 1's intro, allowing that to play until the timer runs out. This is a clever narrative move -- the replay of a fragment of Dracula's theme signals impending entry into the castle, while the stage 1 motif marks this stage as a sort of new journey and suggests that Simon, as a force for good, ultimately will override Dracula.

Whip skeletons, among the now-familiar bats and a skeletal knight, are introduced here. They're behaviorally identical to the skeletal knights, except that their whip has a longer reach. Aside from the music, block 5-2's most noteworthy assets are its environmental details, beginning with artificial and natural masses of stone veiled by gray, twitching ivy with purple, glowing pods at its extremities. Thick roots trail down from above, alongside brick columns, as the path shifts to a staircase. There's an air of discomfort, even grotesquery, in these details' denseness that's complemented by the snippet of Dracula's theme.

A line of robed statues atop pedestals leads the way following the staircase's end and our arrival onto the entry lane, free of enemies. Simon treks under the portico's hood, upheld by bizarre columns, and we see that the entrance's huge, wooden door is open -- as much an invitation as a challenge.

Despite being fairly uninteresting to write about, and one of the least demanding places in the game, stage 5's mood and tonal development, contrary to the usual fare and defined on its own glum terms, make it a respectable part of the experience. It's one of SCV4's moments that especially needs to be played, with the context of prior stages, because it is so dependent on its atmosphere's invocations. The deliberate, motivic use of music and the nonviolent stage's end make as good of a case as anything else might in the game that SCV4's developers were striving for a special, subdued sort of drama, and one that is worthy of acclaim, despite the mechanical and hard-design mismanagement.

SUPER CASTLEVANIA IV - Study No. 5

What seems to be an abandoned mansion of perplexing contents, Stage 4 is our first all-interior level. Here, we'll see the stage architecture start to assume a more hostile attitude. We will also see one of the rare instances where the game's normally clear conveyance of room-by-room progression gets muddled. Stage 4's musical theme, "The Trick Manor," has the distinction of being the only other piece from SCV4 (counting "Simon Belmont's Theme") to appear in a future title (that being Circle of the Moon). "The Trick Manor" is actually two separate tracks: one that plays for the majority of the stage, and another that comes in around the tail end. The first half is rather novel in having a variety of tonal and non-tonal effects that function musically and have the presence of ambient noise; what is produced is a delightfully Halloweeny atmosphere of rattles and wiggles. The second half borrows a motif of the first (played upon an organ) for its unrepeated opener and proceeds to a repetitive string of anxious, incessant chords and an almost nonsensical woodwind melody flung out near the looping point. It's a nice complement to the weirdness that the stage delves into.

Two new enemies are introduced right away: the skeletal knight and the dryad. Skeletal knights, from CV3, are an improvement in SCV4 upon the normal skeleton if only because their method of attacking -- a single quick slash of their sword -- has more aggressiveness than that of the tossed bones. It still was an odd decision for Konami to let players duck under knights' swords, especially when the weapon at its lowest point is right on top of Simon's head. Dryads -- first showing up in Haunted Castle's stage 1 -- are humanoid creatures that sprout out of walls when players are at a certain distance away from them. Like some of SCV4's other monsters, there isn't a real challenge to dealing with the dryads; any threat they have is related to the surprise of their sudden emergence (and dryads, once they have emerged, can't do anything except make grabs at Mr. Belmont).

Stage 4 color- and texture-codes platforms -- those green bits in the screenshot above -- that flip about when they're landed upon from a jump or fall. It also provides an initial opportunity for players to understand these platforms' mechanics without fatal failure (making the lack of such features in the part of stage 1 with mechanically analogous platforms even harder to understand).

Hanging skeletons are another one of those Surprise! enemies, sprouting from walls in the background and swiping their hands about, an expression of joviality on their face that goes well beyond the usual eternal grin of skulls. Simon can crouch-walk under them; or, if players need a target to direct suppressed aggression towards, they can choose to attack. The skulls embedded in the wall, mechanisms or still-living deadheads, follow Simon's movement -- a decorative touch that specializes the setting's ambiance and reinforces Simon's physical presence.

The screenshot immediately above illustrates a part on the stage's second story where players must mindfully contend with isolated architecture. Simon is not a Mario or a Bill Rizer -- his body is weighted, heavy. There is a delay after he lands from a jump (especially if there's a height difference between the jumping and landing points). If you want to make a consecutive jump, this delay can be minimized only by a precise press of the jump button a split second after impact. Avoiding the pitfall here is a matter of being quick and conscious, making for a pleasant change of pace.

Screenshot #1 was included because it's a fraction of level design that's sort of inscrutable. The only flipping platforms that could possibly matter in this (monster-free) context are the first one above and below: the one above has to be jumped on to ascend to the third story, and the one below provides potential punishment of late reactions. So why are there the other four? Just for the pleasing visual arrangement that's produced? Mystery! Screenshot number #2 shows off a simple mix-up of the flipping platform, since, unlike the prior example, players must redirect Simon after the jump to reach the ledge on the right. Despite how ordinary this looks, Simon's attributes make it a quirky requirement, and I've had (rare, mind) moments of dying twice in a row to the platform.

As was done for stage 2, I've included a fairly obscured background above from stage 4's third story, seen outside the lancet windows. Aside from the wonderful, grave rendering of the night sky, there also are those purple forms of uncertain distinction below. They could be the tops of leafless trees, considering the height of the view. They could also be a crisscrossing field of thorn-like spikes lining the roof of an adjacent structure, or protruding from the ground far below.

A sudden encounter with a skeleton knight near a ledge -- which, granted, would be better if ducking weren't a way to avoid the sword (a much later stage, the clock tower/level A, has a similar set up with greater tension, thanks to how you get to the knight). Let's take a moment to admire, or just acknowledge, the bricolage-like interior. I'm especially fond of the wooden beams near the top of the screenshot that give the surface a skeletal, ribbed look; the contrast of the finely sculpted stones and the untouched masses in the lower right; and, earlier on, the bright orange shutters set in the dark-stoned walls. Although the textures overall are not especially ruinous, one gets the feeling, by seeing all of these details, of an almost makeshift evolution of the building's interior, as if disparate bits and pieces have been added over the years to replace or go over older parts.

Puwexil, the stage's mid-boss, typifies a common critique of the game's bosses, which is that, provided one has a healthy lifebar and an upgraded whip, one can stand their ground and slug it out to victory with around half of their lifebar remaining -- or more, if the cross/boomerang subweapon has been picked up. Of course, the (willful) loss of health is a punishment, but the game is just not equipped to make that loss feel worrying. Puwexil's order of business is floating about in its room, as spectral skulls are wont to do, projecting a segmented tongue (making it a possible point of influence for the Man Eater monster in Aria of Sorrow and Order of Ecclesia), and making destructible debris rain from the ceiling that looks suspiciously like giant almonds.

With Puwexil out of the way, we're confronted with a situation that's worth talking about for a couple of reasons: it's a unique portion of level design, and it has played a large, almost single-handed part in perpetuating an opinion that CV4 is a "tech demo" in the most obtrusive sense of the term. Here, Simon ascends a staircase, and then has to latch onto a hook as the entire room rotates 90 degrees counterclockwise. When it stops, players drop to a platform and fend off, or avoid (less easy to do), Medusa heads that come from the left and right sides of the screen. As usual, this would be a more compelling situation were there stricter limits to Simon's offense (and if the platform were smaller), yet it still demands a decent level of rhythmic attention to be overcome -- unless you're a Super Speedrunner who's found the perfect place to let the whip droop. Soon, the Medusa heads cease, and the room rotates one last time (again 90 degrees counterclockwise), and has the player wait for a path of bricks to bridge itself from the left towards Simon, who then must swing from the hook -- without grazing the row of spikes below -- and land on it.

It's reasonable to criticize this portion for the way that it mismatchedly stands out as a detached set piece in a game that, overall, flows from one point to the next; and also for the fact that hanging onto a hook and waiting for a room to show off its ability to rotate isn't very exciting. Once these criticisms have been voiced, though, we can also admit that the set piece is over in less than a couple of minutes, and, in its uniqueness, can't be turned into an extended criticism of the game as a whole. The "tech demo" critique is one that, I think, can be much more aptly applied to a Castlevania game such as a Bloodlines (and I'll aim to show this in the respective articles).

We exit the rotating room from the left, but drop down into the next chamber as we would if we were exiting from the right. If you're worried about this becoming a trend, don't be (and if you want to witness a game that suffers all over from mindless stage progression, see Dracula X). This chamber -- a barrel vault made into an entire unit and given the power to rotate one way and the other -- is, realistically, the last time the label of "tech demo," applied with a sneer, can be put on CV4. If there's annoyance from the background's lack of an interactive function, and its heavy toll on the framerate, one can perhaps appreciate that they don't have to wait around for anything to try to impress a 1991-audience. We can walk ahead at our own pace, just making sure to avoid skeletons that burst and fall from the ceiling. Here is also where the second part of "The Trick Manor" begins to play. In my opinion, this is a charming slice of the game, if only because of course the room is the way it is simply due to someone at Konami wanting to show off that special effect.

Block 4-4, stage 4's conclusive block, is a sort of disheveled maze set inside a cavernous environment. Other than a bat or two fluttering near the start, and several bone pillars at the end, this place is monster-free. To reach the boss, players navigate a mixture of rising platforms and static architectural clumps. The ideal path is, in fact, very brief -- a few struts, crouch-walks, and jumps away -- but the seeming variety of routes can prompt novices to wander. 4-4's main threat is crushing adventurers between rising platforms and ceilings, a couple of which are lined with spikes. You'll have to get an idea of how structures' shapes converge to know when and where it's safe to move. Continuing the stage's trend of oddness, this block houses a shaft that, for whatever reason, infinitely loops until it is exited from (you can see the zone in question here; it's the vertical stretch with no apparent top or bottom). I think it would've been nice if this block were longer; something is lost between the hugeness of the backdrop and the interactive space's smallness.

Taking the correct path leads us to a snippet that references a feature of Castlevania's second stage: a trio of spiked mechanisms moving up and down. It's nothing that a modicum of patience can't solve. Past this, players are confronted by a stepped mass of stonework that rises towards a toothy ceiling and reappears below to continue the pattern. Surviving this ascent means boarding the mass as soon as it's accessible and ceaselessly walking right. Now, there is nowhere to go but up a small series of alternating staircases, since the mass we boarded sets itself up as a permanent wall once we've disembarked. Three bone pillars guard the way -- although, as I suspect readers will intuit, these fellows come across as space-fillers, and not as an unassumingly legitimate pre-boss barrier. Note that the background, originally scaly rocks of green, has transformed into an enormous brick wall ventilated by massive arches; and outside is a still pine forest stretching to the horizon.

The music fades out, the backdrop dims to pure black, and two platforms that float up and down appear, setting the stage for stage 4's boss, Koranot. Although it's a better effort by the developers when compared to prior bosses, it's not a total success. Koranot starts out as a towering golem whose size diminishes and walking speed increases as it takes damage. Its methods of attacking, as it patrols the floor, are tossing bricks at the player and jumping up and down to make a hail of stones (with safe spots in between) drop from above. There is, for sure, an immediacy and activity to this fight that's been missing in the others. What it lacks, though, is a fitting usage of the space that's been given. The platforms are a weird decision: Koranot doesn't advance far enough to the left or right to make them structural safe-havens (most mysterious is the right platform, considering that Koranot can't be gotten past without the player taking damage). The fight with Koranot, as it is and as it could be, is similar to the fight with CV3's cyclops; but that fight had risks associated with the space and player's actions. The cyclops patrolled the entirety of its room, and getting in position to hit its weak spot -- its head -- meant exposing oneself to its erratic behavior. It certainly wasn't a highlight of that game's bosses, leaning to the side of attritional design, yet it had an element of danger that the fight against Koranot, with the inexplicable platforms and overly-safe left side of the screen, doesn't have.

I may as well say right here that, relative improvements aside, CV4's bosses don't come into their own until the late part of the game. So be prepared!

Next up is stage 5 -- a short, sodden path that will lead Simon into the castle, and whose main purpose is atmospheric.