been said that artists use their medium to portray their innermost thoughts
and feelings, their outlook and philosophy on life. If the same holds
true for programmers, then there are probably some pretty scary Konami
codemonkeys. Brought to you by repressed anger, it's the classic NES
doomsday game, Contra.
is about two huge men who go to some island to kill. Almost like Joe
Don Baker's Final Justice, except with clearer arteries. Their
names from the Super NES game were Jimbo and Sully, but since this is
the original they were probably named Billy and Jimmy Contra. And they
flew to a country called Contra. Hell-custom, I just wanna know what
the heck a 'Contra' even is. And why the C needs to be written
in Cheeto dust. (I kid; I know they're named Mad Dog and Scorpion. Of
course, I still don't know which is which.)
is so simple and enjoyable, it makes you wonder why other games have
to go and add gimmicks like anti gravity, dash buttons, and every other
stage of Earth Worm Jim. Contra rules because they don't make you do
a complex keypad maneuver to reload or jump over a rabid mutant. It's
just 'shoot' and 'jump.' The only drawback that plagues the skilled
Contra commandos throughout their adventures is the fact they can only
take one shot before dying. Yes, years of extensive military training
with a crack unit apparently atrophies the body to a degree when they're
less likely to survive lightly brushing against an enemy than the average
little kid from a platform game. It's an interesting paradox.
whole story would be put into perspective a lot better if we knew who
these guys were, or what country they're from. And as for the matter
of the clandestine organization Red Falcon, why are they even considered
a threat? Their main force consists of an endless army of guys running
with heavy backpacks. Half the time they run right off the screen or,
more typically, off a cliff. The ones smart enough to get their guns
out just stand there aiming thirty seconds between rounds, and act shocked
that you either have killed them eight times without them realizing
or just ran by, giggling.
other stage is a painful ordeal called the 'BASE" level. You get to
look at your guy's back as he shuffles around behind the electric fence,
firing away at guys in their pajamas, those electric balls from Spencer
Gifts, and dodging the cans of paint that randomly roll at you. At the
end, you have to blow up paneling until a weird bug head thing appears
and burps bubbles down at you. The thing of these levels is that the
action requires nearly mind numbing, thumb scarring jump button mashing.
Otherwise, you'll get punched so full of white diamond shaped holes
they'll have to mine bullets out of your colon.
like to know who the Falcon are fighting for, come to think of it. Someone
who can genetically engineer stuff that looks like the thing from Alien.
Maybe it's a disgruntled former chef who lost his job at McDonald's
when yet another blazing retard sterilized themself with a cup of coffee.
That would explain the sloppy security system. Every so often, a football
flies overhead. Shoot it, and a weapon falls right into your steroid-enhanced
little arms. Once again, when a megalomaniac sets his sights on world
domination, he does things like leave an advanced laser cannon or prototype
force field system just lying around in the break room with his candy
wrappers and half a Mountain Dew. He just doesn't consider for a second
that you're going to equip the weapons and get a buzz off his drink,
then proceed to Contra your way to his doorstep.
so often you face a foe who is neither an inanimate box with a gun on
it or a red backpacker. In fact, they look more like demons or aliens
than soldiers, which adds to the mystery: How did they join the commando
Red Boy Scout 1: This
is my friend Zonthrax from Akujo Majo 12. He's a little weird but a
basically good guy.
Zonthrax: GRAWAAARGH!! *slobber, snarl*
Red Boy Scout 2: What exactly does he bring to the Red Falcon?
RBS-1: Well, he can melt skin with his breath and eat the mushy
flesh and sinew left exposed with his triple jointed mandibles. And
he has his own red baseball cap.
RBS-2: His own baseball cap!? Why didn't you say so? Here, have
a backpack and some jogging pants. Say, would you mind sitting on top
of a waterfall and letting us build a base in your stomach? Captain
Feetie-Pajamas needs a new hellbeast to live in after Cerebus got flying
to Super C!