From the Memory Bank: My History with Video Games

Reflections: "Umihara Kawase" (Super Famicom)

You know what annoys me about the Super Famicom? The way its software was distributed. This console had 1757 games, but inexplicably, hundreds of them were never localized for the North American market. Rather, only 717 of its games found their way over to the SNES. As a result, we here in North America missed out on experiencing who-knows-how-many classics and hidden gems.

We missed out on little treasures like Umihara Kawase, which, to me, is symbolic of the best games that never left Japan. It represents all of the curiously unique, wonderfully creative Super Famicom games that we sadly didn't get the opportunity to play.

I'm so happy to have discovered it.

So I've been around Umihara Kawase for about two years now, though I'm still fairly new to it. That's because for the first year and a half, I viewed it mainly from a distance. I saw it in videos that covered hidden 16-bit gems and the best Super Famicom exclusives, and I watched multiple Twitch streamers play it during their viewers-choice streams (it gets chosen quite frequently and is obviously pretty popular with people who have a big interest in the foreign market). And the whole time, I was delighted by its charming aural and visual qualities and intrigued by its strikingly unique style of gameplay. I was so enamored with the game that I couldn't wait to try it out for myself!

Though, I didn't actually play it for myself until a couple of months ago, in the early days of what has turned out to be a long 16-bit kick (of which my last three reviews are a clear indication). I put off playing it because that's what I do when I decide in advance that I want to write about a game. I make sure to time it to where my first gameplay experience is proximate to the start of the writing project.

And, well, now that I've spent a lot of time playing Umihara Kawase and getting to know it on a personal level, I'd like to tell you how I feel about it.

"So what exactly is this weird, funky-lookin' game?" you ask in a very curious fashion. "Is it just Bionic Commando with a hero who uses a fishing line in place of a grappling hook?"

Well, no. Not really. On the surface level, Umihara Kawase looks a lot like Bionic Commando (Bionic Commando if it were an arcade-style platformer), certainly, but the moment you dig a bit deeper, you discover that it's a much different type of game. Its systems are much more divergent.

Umihara Kawase is very much its own game, and I'm eager to tell you about all of the unique things that it does.

 I usually start these reviews by talking about the game's story, but I can't do that for Umihara Kawase because it doesn't appear to have any type of obvious narrative element. Future series games portray the eponymous Kawase as a fishing-line-carrying sushi chef who adventures her way across a flooded world in search of ingredients (marine life, vegetables, etc.) for her specialty dishes.

Though, apparently, the adventure on which she embarks in this game is wholly the product of her imagination. It occurs in a dream world whose strange and bizarre environments are amalgamations of places that Kawase visited when she was a young girl; they're formed from the fractured memories she has of her earliest days, when she was forced to constantly relocate and thus her life was filled with instability (if I'm correctly understanding her history).

So let's just say that Umihara Kawase's story is exactly what we see when we play the game. It's about a young woman who grapples and traverses her way across a surreal dreamlike world and captures exotic sea creatures along the road. And her goal is to survive the madness and reach an unknown location.

Believe me: That's about as much sense as we're going to make out of this game.

 The first thing you need to know is that Umihara Kawase plays by its own rules. It eschews conventional, time-honored game-design practices in favor of doing whatever the hell it wants to do. It's one of the most consciously reckless, free-spirited games you'll ever play.

Umihara Kawase is, ostensibly, an arcade-style platformer and the type in which you advance from stage to stage by locating exit doors and passing through them. Your goal is to reach one of four "exit fields" ("fields" is this game's name for stages) and subsequently locate its exit door and pass through it. Doing so ends the game.

Now here's where it starts getting crazy.

The are 49 fields in total (the title cards' numbering would have you believe that there are actually 57 fields, but there aren't because the game skips 8 numbers), but you don't traverse all of them, no. Rather, you travel one of multiple routes that contains anywhere from 9-26 fields. There are multiple routes because many of the game's fields have multiple exit doors (2 to 3). Each sends you to a different location. The doors that are more difficult to access tend to warp you ahead several fields (as much as 25), but, of course, you have to exhibit great skill in order to access such doors.

If you decide that you want to play it safe and exit through only the most easily accessible doors, you'll have to traverse anywhere from 23-26 fields. Though, if you decide to take some risks and brave your way over to the game's most inconveniently (and often mischievously) placed doors, you'll only have to traverse as few as 8 fields.

In certain fields, you'll encounter bosses that operate in strangely unique ways (I'll talk more about individual bosses later on). Generally you can't exit one of these fields until the boss character is gone; until such a time, its door will remain locked. (Some boss fields contain alternate exit doors that don't have to be unlocked, yes, but usually these doors don't advance you very far or they're positioned in spaces that are too difficult to access at a time when a boss is hounding you, so they, too, are more or less "locked.")

There are six boss fields in total, but you won't be traversing all of them in any single play-through. Rather, you're likely to see only two or three of them. And if you travel an expert route, you'll see as few as one of them. (And there's a special condition that allows you to complete the game without ever encountering a single boss: After 30 minutes have passed, extra exit doors begin to appear in certain stages, and these doors will take you to random exit fields, one of which is the otherwise-inaccessible, bossless Field 28. So if you want to record a cheap victory, all you have to do is just wait 30 minutes.)

There are, I estimate, somewhere around 15-17 unique routes, which means that you can have a completely different experience each time you play Umihara Kawase. So the game definitely has a ton of replay value (though, of course, you'll have to become quite skillful if you hope to extract the full value).

Got all that?

As for the rest of the basics:

• Fields have varying time-limits (the larger or more difficult the stage, the more time you get).
• You start the adventure with a generous 10 lives (which probably still won't be nearly enough).
• Your score is shown in the UI's top-left corner. It builds as you capture sea creatures and thus earn points (the tougher the creature, the more points you get for capturing it). The scoring system only rewards you high-scoring honors. It doesn't hand out bonus lives or anything really useful. Your high score, by the way, appears in the UI's bottom-right corner.
• There's only one item type: pink sea snails. If you capture one of them, you'll be awarded an extra life. Though, these snails are usually placed in dangerous, difficult-to-reach spaces, so you should only go for them if you have a strong grasp on the grappling controls.

 So our protagonist is Kawase, a young woman who has a love for fishing and cooking. Both of these interests figure into the action.

Kawase uses her fishing line to climb, traverse and navigate her way around stage environments and capture seas creatures (which, as the series' lore tells us, she uses as ingredients in her special dishes).

But first let's talk about her basic abilities.

Kawase can jump varying distances and do so from both a standstill position and while in motion; though, she gets more distance when she jumps while in motion (3 tiles compared to the 1 that she can clear from a standstill). And her vertical jump measures in at two tiles high. In all cases, her jumps are quick to execute, and there's no landing lag to them, which means that she can jump again the instant she hits the ground. Her jumps can be slightly modulated, and insofar, your control over them is limited to halting her forward momentum and pulling back a tiny bit. So overall the jumping and air controls are stiff- and restricted-feeling, and sometimes it feels as though they're fighting you. So jumping isn't one of Kawase's strengths; it's useful only for the most basic of platforming.

Kawase has a crouch ability, but it's not designed to be a defensive maneuver (her crouching sprite is only 3 pixels shorter than her standing and walking sprites, which doesn't put her in a low-enough position to crouch under projectile attacks). Crouching, rather, is used primarily as a setup for one of her grappling moves (I'll talk about these in a bit).

Also, Kawase can grab onto ledges and pull herself up to platforms. The pulling-up animation occurs over five frames, each of which is interactable. If you continue holding forward on the d-pad after Kawase grabs a ledge, she'll simply pull herself up in a quick and smooth fashion. Though, if you refrain from holding forward, you can control each step of the animation and either inch forward or move in reverse--lower yourself down a bit to evade a projectile or even fully retreat back to lower ground.

When Kawase is jumping, she can grab onto platforms whose ledges are three tiles high. When she's swinging or flying through the air, however, the calculation isn't so clear; generally she'll grab onto a ledge of it's just below her waistline--not reliably, though. Ledge-grabbing can be really finicky, and there will be times when Kawase will just refuse to grab onto a ledge even when you're almost above it. This can be especially annoying when you're attempting ledge-grabs on platforms that rest above death pits. In those instances, you'll be begging for the ledge mechanics to work properly. (Umihara Kawase is an experimental game, after all, so expectedly some of its mechanics are rough-feeling.)

And Kawase can also climb ladders. She doesn't have to do so from their bases, though. She can grab onto any part of them.

 Then there's the game's big draw: its inventive, multifaceted grappling system.

Like I said: Umihara Kawase's grappling system is not really comparable to Bionic Commando's, no. It's a lot more complex. It has way more depth to it. And the physics that govern it are far more advanced. Kawase can do everything that Rad Spencer can do and so much more.

For one, Kawase can extend her fishing line in eight directions (up, down, left, right, and in the four diagonal directions) and do so while grounded or aerial, and she can latch onto any part of a structure--onto any part of a ceiling, wall or floor. The line stretches pretty far--about half a screen's length. Though, you can increase its range by jumping right before you press the action button; doing this will get you an extra tile's worth of distance. It's a marginal increase, yes, but one that makes a huge difference; in many instances, it'll allow you to hook onto advantageously placed structures that were seemingly out of range.

The fishing hook will remain affixed to a structure for as long as you hold down the action button. If you're grounded when the hook is affixed, you can continue to walk and jump about and thus use the fishing line as a safety tether. All the while, though, you can only move as far as the line stretches. It's quite rubbery, so you can pull it pretty far (generally 2-3 tiles beyond its normal length). You can wrap it around platforms and corners, too, but doing this carries some risk; if you wrap the line around too tightly, it'll violently recoil and thus wildly bounce you around or send you flying.

After you latch onto a structure while either grounded or aerial, you can reel yourself toward the hook by holding down on the d-pad. And once you're in hanging state, you can lower yourself down by holding up on the d-pad (the lowering-and-raising controls are inverted, yes, and it'll probably take you a while to become acclimated to them). Whenever you're in a hanging state, you bounce around a lot because, like I said, the fishing line is very rubbery. This is a function of the game's momentum system, of which you'll need to take advantage if you hope to swing and launch yourself up to greater heights.

If you want to have success in Umihara Kawase, you'll have to learn how to use the fishing line's elasticity and bounciness to create different degrees of speed and momentum and toss yourself over to platforms that are either higher up or a great distance away. Simply swinging back and forth won't be enough to gain the required momentum, no. If you really want to get some snap on your swings and tosses, you'll necessarily need to incorporate springy movement and do so by quickly and repeatedly adjusting your vertical positioning.

In short: The greater your understanding of the grappling physics, the more easily you'll be able to get about.

After releasing a grapple, you can re-grapple again at any time. And there are many instances in which you'll absolutely need to string together multiple grapples (like, say, in fields in which solid ground is scarce).

Of course, the field structures' geometry and accompanying hazards tend to complicate the grappling process. Along the way, you'll have to learn how to work with or around sloped structures, corners and how-hanging ceilings, and annoying obstructions (like spikes), all of which force you to tactically adjust how swing and bounce around and thus do more in the way of calculation.

Aggressive sea creatures also tend to complicate your platforming efforts (I'll talk more about specific enemy types later on). You can engage with them, too, with your fishing line. Generally you can do one of two things to a sea creature: (1) Strike it with the fishing line and thus force it into a dizzy state, in which it'll remain for two seconds; during this time, their hitboxes are rendered inactive, and you can safely pass through them. (2) You can hook it and capture it (you can do this safely because a hooked enemy also enters into a dizzy state and remains in that state for as long as it's hooked). After hooking an enemy, you can attempt to reel it in by holding down on the d-pad.

I say "attempt" because reeling has a situational element to it. That is, the creature's size and weight determines how easy or difficult the process is. If the creature is smaller or lighter than Kawase, you can reel it in while maintaining your position. If the creature is equal in mass to Kawase, you might struggle a bit to reel it in--particularly if there's a height differential and/or there's a large distance between the two parties. Any such variable can cause one or both parties to wildly rubber-band about and potentially fall or get thrown into a gap or death pit. Though, if you're close in proximity to the creature and there are no such variables, you'll simply be pulled forward a bit. And if a creature is bigger or heavier than Kawase, you won't be able to reel it in; rather, you'll be pulled toward the creature. (Note, though, that there are some exceptions to these rules and that certain creatures, regardless of their size or weight, can neither be stunned and/or captured.)

The situation changes when you're engaging with creatures while aerial. If you hook onto an enemy while you're jumping or sailing through the air, your momentum-energy and velocity will profoundly alter the interaction and, well, weight it in your direction. Even the heaviest of creatures won't be able to maintain its position if it's hooked by a flying or falling Kawase; rather, it will be violently yanked from its perched and dragged down with her. Generally it's dangerous to latch onto creatures while aerial because it usually results in Kawase wildly plummeting.

 Of course, there are all kinds of advanced grappling techniques, some of which you'll necessarily need to learn and master if you desire to successfully traverse the game's most challenging routes.

• First there's the Backsling, which will help you to launch yourself higher. You can utilize it once you've entered into a rhythmic swinging motion. As you're ascending upward, hold down and the release the action button. If you do this, Kawase will be propelled much higher than she would have had you merely released the action button.
• There's the Climb Hop, which allows you to propel yourself higher while you're in a hanging position. To execute it, you have to get as close to the hook as you can and then do two things in quick succession: hold up on the d-pad to begin to descend and then instantly press down on the d-pad and release the action button. If you do this correctly, the recoil will carry Kawase somewhere around half a tile to one whole tile higher than normal. If you master this technique, you can use it to scale the tallest of walls and thus bypass entire platforming segments.
• You can use the Ground Hook to affix the fishing hook to a platform's upper portion and then safely drop off the platform and proceed to rappel your way down. You'll want to do this rather than attempt to grapple a platform's side while dropping because the former ensures that you'll grab onto the platform's ledge if you decide to pull yourself back up (if you do the latter, instead, you'll have to rely on the Climb Hop to propel yourself upward and hope that one of your ledge-grab attempts registers).
• And then there's the tricky Rocket Jump, which allows you to slingshot yourself forward. It's a four-step maneuver. To execute it, you have to (a) affix the hook to a surface, (b) walk in either direction and pull the line as far as it'll stretch, then (c) jump and subsequently let go of the action button, and (d) jump again while you're slinging back. If you execute the maneuver correctly, Kawase will be launched a very long distance. It's very difficult to execute, yeah, but if you learn how to do it capably, you can forgo grappling your way over long expanses and instead simply toss yourself over them!

In reality, there's a lot more to the grappling system than I've stated her. There's still a lot more depth to it. And I'm just not yet at the point where I know about all of it. If you want to see how truly deep Umihara Kawase's grappling system is, though, you should head over to Youtube and watch how master players perform. Doing that will give you a clearer picture.

I recommend that you play Umihara Kawase just for the purpose of experimenting with its cool grappling system and getting a sense of how impressive it is. There's a high learning curve to the grappling system, and the grappling controls tend to feel clunky at first, but once you get a grasp on the system and become acclimated to the controls, it all starts to feel really intuitive and second nature.

It's just that it's tough to master the grappling controls. It takes a ton of practice. And in my opinion, it's worth trying to be a master. It makes Umihara Kawase's action all the more fun and rewarding.

The good news is that you don't need to read (or translate) Umihara Kawase's manual to learn about its basic and advanced moves. It's nice enough to inform you of them during your adventure. Its between-stage animated tutorials introduce you to new and techniques and abilities and show you how to execute them (and naturally whichever move a tutorial is teaching you is likely to be very useful in the upcoming stage). If you don't want to watch these scenes, you can skip them by pressing any button.

 The game's stages, like I said, are called "fields," and all of their structures are composed of combinations of random geometric shapes. Those structures and the angular obstructions they create are the main obstacles you have to contend with as you play through the game.

Along the way, though, you also have to deal with the types of obstacles and hazards that are typically associated with the platforming genre: spike beds; moving platforms (the endlessly-cycling-elevator type that can crush you); conveyors of the vertical and horizontal variety (plus those that form structures' entire borders); weighted platforms that sink when you stand on them, hang from them, or pull at their bottom portions (if a weighted platform of a certain color sinks, all of those that match its color will sink along with it); oscillating crushing pillars; icy surfaces; sequenced platforms; moving walls that only slide open when you come in contact with their associated trigger points; and enemy dispensers (baskets that regularly drop bluefish, in this case).

The most persistent threat, though, is the water that forms fields' ground levels. If you fall into water, you die instantly. Fields always contain some quantity of safe and solid ground, yes, but typically the majority of their ground levels is comprised of long watery expanses (it is a flooded world, after all). So you have to be aware that any mistimed jump, missed grapple, or wayward grapple-toss can result in death.

 Umihara Kawase's other obstacles are its highly obstructive sea creatures, which do what they can to clog up spaces and make your platforming efforts feel more nerve-wracking.

Generally, making contact with sea creatures will result in instant death while making contact with their projectile attacks will cause you to enter into a dizzy state. As you enter a dizzy state, you bounce back about half a screen and lose your ability to move or jump, and your fishing-line connection (if you're currently making one) breaks; and consequently you become prone and likely to helplessly fall into a gap or a death pit. Though, while you're in this state, you can extend the fishing line and thus make an effort to maintain your position or stop yourself from falling.

The are different classes of enemies, and all of a class' members function pretty similarly.

• Goldfish and bluefish simply patrol platforms.
• Loaches and mudskippers patrol platforms, too, but they have the ability to spit dizziness-inducing bouncing eggs. The latter type spits three in succession.
• Brown- and blue-shelled pond snails circumnavigate platforms and structures.
• Sharks patrol platforms and toss dizziness-inducing fish in arcing patterns.
• Stationary fishing pails toss out trios of minnows (which, strangely, sprout legs and walk away after they're done flopping around). If you make contact with either the pail or the minnows, you'll enter into a dizzy state.
• Octopi crawl along surfaces and spit dizziness-inducing ink clouds--a more-concentrated substance that fully immobilizes you and thus prevents you from extending your fishing line as you bounce back.
• Packs of remoras and tobuio leap out from the water when you make contact with associated trigger points. If you collide with any of them, you'll enter into a dizzy state.
• The stationary anemones throw out eggs that subsequently crack open and release two sparks that immediately begin to circumnavigate whichever platform or structure the anemone is currently occupying. If a spark makes contact with your hook, the connection will be broken.
• White bass remain stationary and clog up narrow passages. You can't capture them, no, so you'll instead have to knock them aside. You can do this by pulling on them with your fishing line and depositing them into recesses. If you make contact with a white bass, you'll enter into a dizzy state.
• Scallops (the game's rarest creature type) float through the air and home in on you. They drift away and disappear after about five seconds.

Three of the game's non-boss creatures are exclusive to boss fields.

• Frogs, which are birthed by the Giga Tadpole boss, hop across surfaces and begin to swim about if they land in the water. Making contact with a frog will kill it, but doing so will also cause you to enter into a dizzy state.
• Baby seahorses, which are produced by the Giant Seahorse boss, home in on you. The boss releases them three at a time. If you make contact with a seahorse, it'll die, but you, too, will pay a price: You'll enter into dizzy state.
• Crabs, which are produced by the Crabpose boss, skitter their way toward you. Likewise, making contact with a crab will kill it, but doing so will also enter you into a dizzy state.

Once you capture a creature or maneuver it into the field's watery abyss, it'll be gone permanently. It won't respawn no matter how far you scroll the screen over. It'll only reappear if you die and restart the stage.

Though, even if you capture and kill all of the creatures that are present when a stage's action begins, you're still not going to be free from harassment. You're still not safe because Umihara Kawase also has a random-enemy-spawning element. At random intervals, creatures will suddenly spawn onto any of the field's traversable platforms or surfaces and remain there for about five seconds. And sometimes two or three of them will spawn onto the same platform or structure in very quick succession!

What's annoying about this is that creatures often spawn right in front of you or in the very spot on which you're about to land, and they do so with little in the way of warning (the only indication is a 24-frame puff-of-smoke animation that gives you an infinitesimally small amount of time to react).

The game gives you some leeway in that a creature will fail to spawn if you're within, say, two to three pixels of the spot in which it was about to appear, but sometimes that puts you in a position in which you have to make a split-second determination. If a creature is beginning to spawn right in front of you as your momentum is carrying forward, you have to quickly decide between (a) rushing forward and trying to get to the spot before the spawn animation completes or (b) halting your momentum and waiting. Option B is always the safest choice, yeah, but the problem is that it's not always available to you; you won't have such an option if currently you're dropping down or being thrown or catapulted. In such cases, all you can do is hope that you get there in time to cancel out the spawning animation.

The creature spawning gets absolutely ridiculous in the later stages. At that point, creatures start spawning in every two or three seconds--one after another--in every possible location. At times, you'll be surrounded on all sides by creatures that are constantly pelting you with dizziness-inducing projectiles. They won't leave you alone for a second, and you'll be lucky to complete a single action. It can get infuriating.

Random-creature-spawning is by far my least-favorite aspect of the game.

 Umihara Kawase has boss battles (which are fought in "boss fields"), though it doesn't attach any pageantry to them. There's no boss music nor are there any elaborate entrances. The game gives you no indication that you're in a boss field. You just find out suddenly.

Also, there's nothing distinct about boss fields. They're designed just like every other field; they have the exact same graphical presentation and the same cheery music. Because, I guess, the designers felt that introducing threatening-looking visuals and menacing boss music would work to kill or repress the game's defining chill factor. Or maybe they just didn't care to develop new assets. I lean toward the former, because, as I've been saying, Umihara Kawase likes to mischievously defy convention and play by its own rules, and its attempting to create the illusion that its daunting boss battles are actually mellow, run-of-the-mill affairs is certainly within that spirit.

The bosses and the challenges they present are expectedly weird. Boss battles, in general, aren't about attacking and thus eliminating bosses but rather about enduring different types of trials. The problem is that the game doesn't provide you any hint as to what the rules are or what your goal is; you have to intuit them on your own.

Take the first Giga Tadpole battle, for instance. The first time you encounter the Giga Tadpole, your first inclination will probably be to attack it with the fishing line in an attempt to weaken it up for an eventual capture. You know--do what you've been doing to every other creature. But try as you might, you won't be able to hurt it or impede its march. The only thing you'll be able to do is evade it by hanging off the side of the battlefield. And after you've done that two or three times, you'll start to think that maybe hanging off the side of the battlefield is what you have to do to win. Because there's nothing else to do. And you'll sense that you're on the correct path when you notice that there are clear phases to this battle--that the Giga Tadpole is birthing an increasing number of frogs each time it cycles around. The goal, you'll realize, is to simply survive--to keep taking out the pesky frogs and hanging off the battlefield's side until the Giga Tadpole gets bored and decides to leave.

That's how most of Umihara Kawase's boss battles work.

The game has six boss battles and four boss characters (two of them make a second appearance). Other bosses include the following:

• Groups of flying fish that take different formations during each phase of the their two-phase battles. To end a phase, you have to capture each member of the group (the flying fish are the only boss characters that you can attack conventionally).
• The Giant Seahorse, which floats around and blocks the boss field's upper exit door and attempts to repel you by spewing dizziness-inducing ink and releasing trios of stalking baby seahorses. You can't hurt or dispatch this creature. The only thing you can do is cagily lure it away from the door and thus sneak past it.
• Crabpose--a ground-patrolling giant crab that attempts to knock you off of a center platform by spewing a number of dizziness-inducing bubbles (some of which contain baby crabs, which stalk you once they break free) and clipping off segments of the platform. You can't leave the field until it clips off the platform that's blocking the way to the exit door.

And, like I said earlier, you'll only see two or three of these bosses in any normal play-through.

 What becomes apparent right away is that Umihara Kawase has a personality all its own. It's a very unique- and strangely-enchanting-looking game. It has a curiously distinctive style.

Its stage structures bear the most simple of textures: checkered patterns (of the small, medium and large variety), square tiles, entwined shapes, and even bold single colors. Nothing you haven't seen before. Yet, still, Umihara Kawase's textures manage to have great visual appeal because of the manner in which they're colored and shaded. Textures that decorate sprite-layer constructions are colored with combinations of eye-pleasing light and dark pastels while textures that decorate the adjacent background constructions use slightly darker pastels (usually darker shades of the colors displayed in the front layer). This mode of coloring works to provide the game's structures hypnotic visual flair and an attractively alluring sense of depth (it's also a nice little touch that sprite-layer structures cast shadows on the ones directly behind them; it helps to complete the effect).

All of the structures' conjoined shapes, also, have borders that are colored with either the lightest or darkest variants of the colors that are being used, and this provides them strong definition and helps them to jump out at you.

On the whole, the game's textures are clean, glossy and sharp and thus visually engaging. They're really fun to look at. And they do a great job of providing the game's world a wonderfully pleasant, buoyant vibe.

It's just that there's not a lot of variety to them; there are, disappointingly, only about five or six unique texture types. And seeing the same textures over and over again can get stale after a while. I will say, though, that the game makes up for this a bit by occasionally throwing in weird and random visuals like, say, structures comprised entirely of Lego-type blocks. So even when staleness sets in, you'll still be filled with the sense that Umihara Kawase is moments away from showing you something strangely new.

The most curious aspect of the game's visual presentation is the background work. All of Umihara Kawase's backgrounds, strangely, are comprised of static digitized grayscale photos. These photos don't scroll, they don't animate in any way, and, most noticeably, they're very low-resolution and thus very pixelated-looking. It's a low-effort approach to background design, certainly, but I can't deny that it somehow works. It results in backgrounds that are strangely unique and thus weirdly charming. And even though the backgrounds are blurry and spotty, they're still effectual; they're calming and comforting and just plain interesting to look at. And all of these qualities make them very much appropriate for this game.

Once you're a few fields in, it becomes clear that the game's designers really love scenic water views. All of their backgrounds display images of idyllic, picturesque water bodies--of quite, peaceful rivers, lakes, streams and brooks. And each of these environment types has a name and associated stage and musical themes. The river environment, for instance, will always have the accompaniment of mint- and periwinkle-colored checkered-patterned stage structures and the zestful Kawanabe musical theme.

The fields, themselves, are sparsely decorated, and the few objects that adorn that are usually indicative of the environment types and whichever seasons are most closely associated with them. So a field whose background consists of a forest lake will display trees and bushes. A field whose background consists of a seashore will display beachrock. A field whose background consists of a brook will display lush, colorful autumn-season-type foliage.

Strangely, most fields also have secondary themes that are communicated via out-of-place objects. Seashore-type fields, for example, have a "school" theme, and as you traverse them, you'll see pencil stacks, rulers, protractors, and the like. Other fields types have giant vegetables, sewing equipment, bicycle wheels, soda cans or screws. There's even a stage in which all of the objects and structures are upside-down (and, cruelly, there's no solid ground beneath you when you start this stage, so if you don't immediately extend your fishing line, you'll die)! It's all very weird and random.

No matter where you are, though, birds are always hopping or flying about, and the vibe is always cheerful. Umihara Kawase's visuals evoke nothing but good feelings.

 And if you're looking for more proof that Umihara Kawase has absolutely no regard for traditional game design or even the most basic game-design conventions, look no further than how it approaches presentation. Everything it does is either unorthodox or just plain weird.

Most glaringly, it places its HUD in the center of the screen. Not on the screen's top, bottom or side portions, no. Right in its center. And because the HUD's elements occupy the foreground layer, they work to obscure the action (though, honestly, not to a great degree). And it's obvious that the designers made this decision simply because, once again, they were determined to defy a norm. So while words and numbers floating in the screen's center is not visually appealing in any way, it's still very much appropriate for this game.

Otherwise, Umihara Kawase goes for extreme simplicity. It completely lacks bells and whistles. It doesn't have an intro sequence, its title screen doesn't animate in any way, it doesn't feature any storyline-forwarding cut-scenes, and it doesn't exhibit any spectacular visual effects. There are no stage-start, death, or stage-clear jingles. There's no score-tally screen. And there are no victory animations. The game yields to no convention. It doesn't let anything interrupt its march.

Also, there's no ending. When you travel through an exit-field door, the action freezes and then the credits begin to roll. That's it. There's no ending theme or any type of special victory music; rather, the normal stage theme continues to play.

Well, OK--you do get something: After the credits wrap, you're treated to an animation of a fish and an accompanying 8-second ditty. Though, I can't call this a reward because it's the same screen that displays when you Game Over.

Now, are these stylistic choices or conspicuous omissions that speak of a cheaply made game? I can't say for sure. I don't know much about the game's development or what its budget was. It would be nice to have stage-start and stage-clear jingles, idle animations, congratulations screens and the like, certainly, but to be honest, I'm not at all upset that the game doesn't contain such things, no. It doesn't really need them. Rather, it benefits from the lack of interruption. Its action is so engaging that you don't ever want for there to be a pause in the action; you don't want anything to break your rhythm or deep, excited engrossment.

So we can get away with saying that Umihara Kawase is a game that doesn't care to waste your time. Rather, it goes out of its way to respect it.

 Then there's one of my favorite aspects of the game: the music. Umihara Kawase's are some of the most delightfully cheerful tunes I've ever heard in a game. They're amazingly uplifting and happiness-inducing, and their energy is absolutely infectious; it infuses every part of you. And as you listen to the tunes' intensely joyful melodies, you won't be able to stop yourself from swaying along in rhythm to them and making up cheerful-sounding lyrics.

When you listen to Umihara Kawase's music, you feel good about playing video games and having fun with them. "What a lovely way to spend time," you think.

That's the power of this game's music.

Also, the music's inspiriting energy helps you to keep your head in the game when things inevitably start to go wrong. You'll be in too much of a jolly mood to get mad when, say, you've accidentally tossed yourself into a death pit for the tenth time in a row or when a loach appears from out of nowhere and knocks you off a platform that you spent three minutes climbing up to. Rather, you'll still feel energized and thus motivated to jump right back into action and try again.

Umihara Kawase has six tunes in all, and, like I said, each one is associated with a certain environment type. And how often you hear a particular tune depends upon the route you choose to travel. If you travel a more difficult route, you're likely to get more musical variety, since the most difficult fields have the most tune diversity.

I can't say much about the sound-effect aspect of the game's sound design because, well, there aren't many sound effects to be heard. Kawase, in particular, mostly operates in silence. There are no sound effects attached to her jumping, landing and ledge-grabbing animations. Sound effects are instead reserved for her fishing-line-extending and enemy-striking actions.

The good news is that those sound effects are crisp- and pleasing-sounding. When you extend the fishing line, you a hear a nice air-piercing zip; and when its hook latches onto a surface, you hear a satisfying "kachink" sound. When Kawase captures an enemy and flips it around, into her backpack, you hear a cute little swirling sound. When Kawase or an enemy is stunned, you hear a cartoony tweeting sound (and you even see little tweeting birds flying around their heads!). When Kawase hits or dips into water, you hear a light, delicate splashing sound. And when Kawase dies, you heard a blunt, echoey blooping noise.

What's there is limited but well-produced.

And that's the extent of it of Umihara Kawase's sound-effect work.

It's simple or cheap. Whichever way you want to look at it.

 Of course, I can't ignore the fact that Umihara Kawase is chiefly known for its high level of difficulty. It's an enormously challenging video game, and that's something you have to know going in. This is a game that demands excellence and takes no prisoners.

Its action starts out manageable, yeah. Even if you have just a rudimentary understanding of the controls and the grappling system, you won't have much trouble clearing the first 3 or 4 fields. But thereafter, suddenly, Umihara Kawase takes off the kid gloves, and its difficulty-level, even in its "easiest" routes, begins to skyrocket. At that point, it takes away all of the safeguards and requires that you have exhibit a strong understanding of its systems. It expects you to capably execute tricky grappling maneuvers and thus work your way over, under and around some of the most inconveniently shaped structures ever designed.

At the same time, it minimizes the amount of traversable ground-level surfaces. It throws in spikes, moving platforms (including those that are lined with spikes) and crushing pillars. And it turns ups the enemy spawn-rates.

So once you move beyond the first 3 or 4 fields, it starts getting real, and if you want to survive for long, you have to start being very precise in your movements. If, by then, you don't have a strong grasp on the grappling mechanics, you'll be in a position in which you can potentially lose all of your lives to one field or even to one single platforming segment.

And if you want to have any chance of actually beating this game, you'll necessarily have to master the controls. If you reach the later fields before you do this, you'll wind up having a miserable time, and you'll be left thinking, "This level design is absurd! How can anyone ever be expected to navigate his or her way around these types of structures and obstacles?!" You'll set yourself up to be broken mentally.

Hell--this game's action is harrowing even when you know what you're doing. Even if you become an expert, there will still be times when the game's platforming segments are so stressful that your arms will start shaking, your heart will start beating rapidly, and you'll be unable to breathe.

So for those of you who are planning to play Umihara Kawase in the future, please be aware: This is one of the most challenging platformers ever made. Don't be fooled by its cheerful exterior. It's just a cover. It's there to make you believe that this is just some kids' game that you can waltz your way through. It's nothing more than a trap designed to reel you in and mischievously set you up for unexpected haymaker.

So yeah--it's a very difficult game. So far, I've only been able to clear its shortest route (the one that takes you through fields 0, 1, 2, 10, 11, 12, 36, 52 and 55), which despite its relatively brief length is still pretty high up there in challenge. Though, I am getting closer to achieving a standard-route victory, yes. I'm currently at a point where I can reliably get 20 fields in before running out of lives. So all I need to do is just squeeze out a few more fields.

And only after I do that will I be able to say that I've truly beaten Umihara Kawase!

 I should mention that Umihara Kawase has a "Replay" function that allows you to record your gameplay (as much of it as the game's memory can hold) and save said replay data. You can access the Replay menu at any time during gameplay by bringing up the pause menu and pressing the Select button. And then you can view your recorded video or videos by accessing the "Replay" mode on the game's title screen and selecting the "Playback" option. Note that both the title-screen and in-game Replay menus allow you to rename or delete your video files.

Honestly, I'm not interested in such things as "video-recording," so I have no opinion on the Replay function. All I can say is that it looks pretty advanced and that those who have an interest in recording gameplay might enjoy playing around with it.

Closing Thoughts

 So yeah--I'm very fond of Umihara Kawase and what it does. It's one of the most charming games I've ever played. Every aspect of it is endearing in some way.

I just love playing this game and being around it. I derive great enjoyment from exploiting and experimenting with its inventive, impressively multifaceted grappling system; from listening to its alluringly cheerful music; and from gazing at and drinking in its pleasingly colored stage environments.

The game's visuals are minimalistic in nature, yeah, but I don't mind that they are. Its having simple, unpretentious graphics is part of its charm. It's what helps it to be so curiously attractive. It's what makes it one of the 16-bit era's most wonderfully distinct-looking and distinct-feeling games.

Umihara Kawase is one of a kind. No other game looks, sounds or plays like it. No other game is brave enough to try to look, sound or play like it.

Umihara Kawase is unabashedly free-spirited, and that's what makes it so appealing.

 Umihara Kawase has such an amazingly positive energy to it. I feel good when I play it. As I look at it and listen to it, my mood brightens, and I become filled with spirit. And the whole time, I keep thinking, "I'm so happy to be able to play and enjoy fun video games!"

This game never fails to give me a lift, and that's one of the big reasons why I keep returning to it.

I continue to return to it, also, because I like the challenge that it offers. It tests your skills like no other game does. It demands that you face your fears and confront your doubts and endeavor to overcome them. What helps is that the game's grappling mechanics are so interesting and so much fun to exploit; they're so utterly engaging that they make you want to improve your grappling skills so that you can (a) keep on playing what you're finding to be a joyously fun game and (b) have a chance to make it far into the game and actually beat it.

Now, I can't deny that Umihara Kawase eventually gets too difficult for its own good, no. Towards the end, it becomes super-punishing and does so to such a degree that you might start to think that beating it isn't possible--that you'll never possess the skill necessary to accomplish such a feat.

But here's the thing: Umihara Kawase's intense difficulty isn't really a game-breaker. In reality, you don't have to be able to beat Umihara Kawase to have a good time with it. Rather, you can enjoy it in bursts. You can play it for 10-20 minutes and in that time have great fun swinging and throwing yourself around the game's fields. Each time you play, you can travel a different route and challenge yourself to make it as far as you can. You can basically customize your experience.

And, as I've been saying, you can otherwise have an enjoyable, blissful experience by playing the game casually and taking the opportunity to listen to its delightfully cheerful music, gaze at its simple-but-pleasing visuals, and savor its good-vibes- and nostalgia-inducing atmosphere.

Umihara Kawase is a joy to play, and I beg you not to let talk of its great difficulty dissuade you from giving it a shot.

 Umihara Kawase is the perfect start-of-spring game. It has that kind of vibe to it. Its music and visuals evoke images of serene and pleasant spring-green environments with their blossoming plant life, sun-drenched fields, and choruses of chirping birds. It's definitely the kind of game you'll want to play when the weather starts getting nicer and the air starts feeling fresher. You'll want to pop open a window a let that wonderful spring atmosphere further augment what's already one of the most enlivening, vivifying feel-good games around!

 And, really, this is the best time for Umihara Kawase to rise from obscurity. We are, after all, in the era of rediscovery--an era in which there's a strong focus on digging up and bringing back older games (via collections, dedicated plug-and-play devices, and series like Arcade Archives and Sega Ages). In such an era, it makes perfect sense for a gem like Umihara Kawase to ceremoniously reemerge and make its way onto a download service (ideally onto the Nintendo Switch Online's SNES application). There's no reason for it not to happen.

I'm happy to know that the game is purchasable on Steam (it's been there for about 7 years now). It's available individually, and it's also included in the Umihara Kawase Trilogy (along with Sayonara Umihara Kawase and Umihara Kawase Shun).

And soon, hopefully, it'll start appearing everywhere else, too.