While time corrupts a sincere appraisal of Star Fox 2’s merit, it leaves behind the benign peculiarity of its survival. Star Fox 2 is a weird, wonderful what-if that slipped out of a black hole and into our present reality.
Star Fox 2 is imperiled by time. In 1995 it would have been a technical showpiece on an ancient platform. 2017 may view it as a ghastly sideshow unqualified to compliment twenty of the Super Nintendo’s best and brightest. While time corrupts a sincere appraisal of Star Fox 2’s merit, it leaves behind the benign peculiarity of its survival. Star Fox 2 is a weird, wonderful what-if that slipped out of a black hole and into our present reality.
Star Fox 2’s cancellation had little to do with its intrinsic value. Despite a push from Chrono Trigger and Donkey Kong Country 2, the Super Nintendo was wilting under the fierce gaze of next generation platforms. Panzer Dragoon, Tekken, and Ridge Racer showcased the power of proliferating polygons, proper texture maps, and capable frame-rates. Overnight, fellow Super FX titles like Vortex and Stunt Race FX aged like they drank from the wrong grail. Star Fox 2 (and Comanche) were canceled because they would not have been able to Play It Loud enough to drown out the noise of the next generation.
Of course, Star Fox 2 did come out. While Kyoto undoubtedly houses dozens of unfinished games and prototypes that will never see the light of day, several different builds of Star Fox 2 made it out alive. The emulation scene cobbled it all together and produced a makeshift translation. Enterprising individuals could even solder and wire an eprom to a Doom board and play it on actual Super Nintendo hardware. These forms of Star Fox 2, however, were never properly localized, bug-tested, or (obviously) officially sanctioned for public consumption by Nintendo.
Enter the Super Nintendo Classic. Last year, the NES Classic validated extreme demand for Nintendo’s 30-game throwback console, easily trampling over At Games’ miserable efforts with Sega Genesis and Atari 2600 “Flashback” consoles. Contained in the SNES Classic are Super Metroid, A Link to the Past, and Final Fantasy III (VI); three of the greatest games ever made. Seventeen others, aside from Super Ghouls ’n Ghosts, would also place highly on any informed list. Throwing Star Fox 2 on the marquee shoots the SNES Classic through the stratosphere. In didn’t need this but, my god, what a spectacle.
Hasty impressions of Star Fox 2 may feel alien and uncomfortable. It ditches the fixed-course level sequences of its predecessor. The team is condensed to the player and a single wingman. Some levels can be beaten in under a minute, and the whole game can be taken down in half an hour. On top of all of that, it’s as close to a time-obsessed real-time strategy game as it is a confined space shooter. “Traditional Star Fox” is a concept that only exists in our hearts and minds—only two of the eight Star Fox games firmly subscribe to “rail shooter”—simultaneously positioning Star Fox 2 both on and off any presumed course.
Relax. Star Fox 2’s aspirations were driven by a need for practical separation and an identity beyond a technology showcase. Star Fox was not mechanically distinctive from either Galaxy Force II or Argonaut’s own Starglider 2. Like the Genesis port of Sega’s Virtua Racing, Star Fox (with the help from a co-processor) arduously demonstrated the viability of polygons on a 16-bit system. Around the same time, the Atari Jaguar’s polygonal sludge—Cybermorph, Club Drive, and Checkered Flag—proved that technology alone was no longer a suitable lifeboat. Making Star Fox 2 seaworthy, especially in 1995, demanded a dramatic overhaul of its basic operation.
Composition is Star Fox 2’s most present and powerful show of ambition. Most of it happens on a world map. On normal difficulty, Andross’ end of the map deploys two battle cruisers, lets loose barrage of missiles, and corrupts land bases of two (of six) planetary surfaces. Two members of Star Fox are charged with dealing with these problems, and slowly move across the world map at your discretion. Corneria lies at the opposite end of the map, and defending it from oncoming fire—either as it happens by intercepting missiles or preemptively by destroying bases and cruisers—is your constant goal. If Corneria sustains 100% damage, if you take too long dallying inside bases, or if your team is wiped out – it’s game over.
Managing all of these concurrent elements is where Star Fox 2 develops its intensity. Once Corneria starts getting pelted, even if you’re in the middle of a ground assault, you’re notified in real time and have the option of abandoning the mission to try and fix it. Sometimes it’s as simple as gunning down plodding missiles. Other times, it’s making quick work of a small squadron. These sequences don’t take very long, sometimes they’re over in seconds, but if left alone these pests can do serious damage to Corneria (there’s also a giant rotating space gun near Corneria that can deal with some of these hazards, but if left alone in the fire even that can be taken over and used against you).
Andross also deploys members of Star Wolf to help defend compromised planets. Pigma, Wolf, Leon, and newcomer (oldercomer?) Algy can find and engage the player in one-on-one, all-range dogfights. On normal difficulty this amounts to games of chicken to see who can aim straight and spin-dodge correctly. On hard it starts to resemble a true dogfight, where boosting is paramount and lining up a charged shot is absolutely vital. Deploying a bomb, should you be carrying any, is also an effective way to melt their health bar. These sequences are among Star Fox 2’s weakest element, and while there’s fun to be had inside messy dogfights, it feels too reliant on luck and bombs to ease tension inside of battle.
Ground battles across planets and cruisers further expand Star Fox 2’s compass. At any time the player can morph from an Arwing to a Walker (a mechanic later employed in 2016’s Star Fox Zero). Under normal difficulty, the Walker is employed to hop up on switches to open base doors or engage in a slower, more deliberate form of combat. Control is crude by modern standards, the d-pad must be used in conjunction with the L and R buttons for makeshift tank controls, but it fits inside of Star Fox 2’s interface.
You’re also allowed a bit of discretion toward the makeup of your squad. Fox and Falco have typical Arwings and come loaded with three bombs. Slippy and Peppy are in slower, armored Arwings and trade bombs for health refills. Miyu and Fay, both newcomers, are in experimental Arwings with extremely low shields, but have an ability to replenish those shields. You can switch between either fighter at the world map or retreat to the base and completely restore your shields. I never wanted to debase myself by playing as either Slippy or Falco, and it was tough to get away from the security of Fox. With that in mind, the most rewarding duo has to be Miyu and Fay; who cares about health when you’re too busy speeding in and out of danger?
Bumping the difficulty up to hard significantly modifies Star Fox 2’s behavior. Giant enemies, like a huge fire-breathing ostrich on Eladard, must be defeated before base door switches become available. Base interiors on each planet also feature unique minibosses along with a handful of other potshot enemies on the exterior walls. I usually don’t advocate playing a game outside of “normal” difficulty, but you’re really missing the best of Star Fox 2 if you’re not playing it on hard. With a balanced challenge and a full complement of unique opposition, it’s the way Star Fox 2 was meant to be played.
Star Fox 2’s arena-like planets all follow a similar pattern—open the base, invade the base, kill everything inside the base—but extend distinct geographic variation. Macbeth, fresh off a substantial attack, has fiery-hot ground that can damage the Walker. Fortuna switches are above water, requiring tricky Arwing-into-Walker landing sessions while the base is located under the sea. Taitania, Eldard, Venom, and the meteor aren’t as reliant on environmental gimmicks, allowing a more traditionally composed assault.
Pepper medals, Star Fox 2’s form of General Pepper-emblazoned collectibles, are spread across each of the three difficulties. You can usually find them tucked into obscure corners of bases or against difficult foes. Essentially a meta-level objective, Pepper medal collection carries across playthroughs and ultimately unlocks a secret base (which contains, among other power-ups, the charge-shot lock-on ability that came standard in the Star Fox 2 beta). These would be a harmless distraction if not for the essential need for power-ups demanded by expert level difficulty.
(Generally, instruction isn’t an explicit part of Star Fox 2. General Pepper, Andross, and your wingman provide basic direction, but they gloss over the core mechanics and organization of the game. That information is found in—where else—the manual, which used to be a collection of physical pages that detailed finer points of the game you just bought. In ancient times these would be consumed in your parent’s car or at school, but on the SNES Classic the digital manual is a part of the interface. It’s a joy to read, and even contains brief snippets of Star Fox 2’s infamous history)
Normal sessions of Star Fox 2 can wrap up in under an hour. Hard mode’s additional workload may add some time, but Star Fox 2 isn’t an especially long single experience.. This isn’t too far removed from Star Fox or Star Fox 64, but time complaints ignore the intended structures of all three games. Star Fox and Star Fox 64 are arcade-inspired high score pursuits. Every game in the series, with the exception of the misbegotten offshoot Star Fox Adventures, is intended to be played over and over in the pursuit of higher performance.
Star Fox 2 doesn’t shy away from chasing perfection—the conclusion of any effort is met with a high score entry screen—but it handles and processes its information differently. Hard measures, like how many extraneous enemies you shot down and the precious time you required to complete your objective, factor into a final score. When combined with randomized elements, like which planets demand invasion and where missiles are flying, Star Fox 2 starts to approach the modern definition of a rogue-lite. It doesn’t operate at the caliber of Spelunky or Rogue Legacy, but Star Fox 2 does represent Argonaut and Nintendo’s earnest attempt to bend Star Fox off its rails and into an open course.
It’s no wonder the bulk of your wingman’s dialogue is reminds you to hit the boost button. Star Fox 2 is possessed by speed and efficiency and makes those goals paramount to any play style. Solving dogfights is a matter of speed behind an opponent. Missiles and enemy fighters will get away if you’re not quick enough. Time spent doing nothing is time wasted, encouraging the player to flip from Walker to Arwing to cover any slice of idle ground. Getting an A rating at the end of a campaign is challenging on any difficulty. It demands the player account for the potential of every available enemy and the skill (and some luck) necessary to destroy them as quickly as possible.
It will be fascinating to watch how different people respond to Star Fox 2’s graphics. In the pure eyes of 2017, it’s a windowed mess of polygons on the verge of falling apart. Worse, the frame rate is distressing and trying to keep track of the action with unlearned eyes is an exercise in futility. Impulse will drive newcomers to quit Star Fox 2 outright and older gamers to question the integrity of the original Star Fox. By almost any standard, Star Fox 2 looks like a being pulled out of a third dimension’s primordial soup and forced into unwilling life.
From another perspective, Star Fox 2 is one of the most technically impressive “16-bit” games around. While Yoshi’s Island’s aesthetic retains the Super FX crown, Star Fox 2 features the Super Nintendo’s most impressive use of polygons. Real time morphing from Arwing to Walker, distinctive and contained 3D arenas, basic texture maps on a handful of surfaces, and exotic enemy designs (look at that Mirage Dragon) are imposing showcases of art and technology. The Super Nintendo was never supposed to do games like Star Fox 2. That it does—and does it better than the 32X’s own stunner, Darxide—shouldn’t need rationalization in order to retain its impact.
Practical context is the only key required to open Star Fox 2’s doors. A heavy qualifier; the key can only be found by searching across the sharp edges of time travel. You and your brain need to figure out how to pretend it’s 1995. Finding the key is aided by surrounding Star Fox 2’s with a smattering of competent peers, rendering the SNES Classic a suitable venue for its long awaited launch. Through the ineluctable circumstance of its cancellation and resurrection, Star Fox 2 is authentically retro in an approach that is otherwise impossible to replicate.
Imagine a modern AAA developer finishing a game and putting it on ice until 2039. It’s an inconceivable exercise. Twenty two progressive years will be unkind to its ideas, politics, composition, and basic structure. It’s hysterical to think a product from Clinton’s first term would have a place in our current hellscape, and, yet, here we are. Novelty and legend help push Star Fox 2 along, but its ability to revel and perform inside of its own simplicity grant it safe passage across time. 2017, somehow, is the perfect time to find out what it was like for a game to die in 1995.
