Banjo-Kazooie

Rare stole everything cool about Super Mario 64 and made it weirder and more fun.

If this rating seems a little, then that's because I didn't grow up with this game and have only come across it as an adult. While I did enjoy it overall, I will say that there are some things that annoyed me during my playthrough that I'm sure people overlook with their nostalgia goggles.

The big issue us that while banjo controls fine for the most part, the same can't be said for Kazooie as I often find her flying and swimming mechanics to be rather slippery. This would be excused if the environments weren't so cramped but unfortunately, they are which makes navigation with her to be tedious. Thankfully she isn't required too often otherwise this would be a rather negative review. I also feel the environments to be rather generic compared to other 90s platformers and even its sequel which offer much more creative environments in their respective games. Here we have regions consisting of a mountain, a beach, a sewer, a swamp, a desert, a snow mountain, a cemetery and a wharf. Only the final level is unique as it's based off of the outer world in a nightmare before Christmas where the environment changes depending on what time of the year it is and each door leading to that perpetual time of year. Also, the final boss sucks as it utilises the flying mechanic that I'm not a huge fan of in this game.

Time for the positives, it's one of the better looking n64 games thanks to heavy stylisation which helps hide the consoles graphic limitations. Obviously, the sequel would utilise this to its full potential as that game has way better locations than the ones found here. I also love the dry British sense of humour this game offers as it's a welcome diversion from the usual childish American humour found in most games of the day (particularly in American dubs of Japanese media) this is particularly noteworthy in the quiz show stage as the game forces you to remember key elements of your playthrough in order to win the round. This is why the puzzles are pretty simple as well since they all make a return here with the potential to replay all of them in order to progress through the stage (you likely won't but your guaranteed for at least one or two of them.)

In a way, this reminds me of the first Spyro game which came out around the same time, so I feel I'm being a bit too hard on it as it was clearly made for kids like that game was, although I've never had any issues with the controls there like I do here so that's why it's not among my favourites even with that in mind.

Most kids weren't there in the late 1990s, or even earlier, when games were in 4 colors (or less) and with 2 buttons. Compared with the earliest days of games where the easiest was, say, Wizardry, this felt like a picnic.
The very concept of "difficulty" in the years has been totally ridimensioned, first by eliminating the "lives", then cheat cartridges, then savestates, and finally by minimizing the degree of skills and focusing needed to reason - instead of finding out the game or even cheating by exploiting the game's flows as we used to, before video series did that for us.

A lot of the "thrill" back then was the difficulty itself: having uneasy task to accomplish without spoiling it all. Of course, if difficulty resulted from bad coding (eg: E.T.) or very bad design (e.g: PacMan World 2 and Clyde's Caldera), it was simply unacceptable, yet in this case it was fun "clearing" the level until it was emptied from its collectables, except for the ship level whose lower engine interior is quite borderline.

The quiz in my case was helpful at least for refining a bit my kid's English: if you had difficulty with it, imagine for an illitterate foreign kid.

Also, this game was way deeper than Spyro1: swimming, transformation, kazooie's special moves, Grant Kirkhope's funny soundtrack (side note: if you loved this VGM, check out Carla Bley's music on Gary Burton's "A Genuine Tongue Funeral", it remarkably evokes this soundtrack), and the occasional weird fringe things here and there all contributed.
The only thing that lacked was a real voice acting, but that's okay here.

(Of course I'm biased: I had played it on real hardware lots of years ago, eventually completing it).
The only thing that disappointed me was the cancelation of the stop n swop feature, way back when videogame consoles were creative enough to exploit internal hardware and engineering rather than relying on third party software alone.

The game is a colorful spoof comedy whose characters would eventually inspire decades of videogaming: all the PLaystation2 blockbusters, for instance, were pretty much covers of Banjo Kazooie (2 heroes, one carried in a backpack, i.e: Jak & Daxter, Ratchet & Clank, and so on). Kazooie was the ultimate prankster of the videogaming world, with his Brit potty mouth (that would also inspire its in-house development fellow, Conker, as orange as Kazooie is). Furthermore, this is one of the earliest games to feature meta-videogaming: the game references itself at several points (Treasure Trove Cove, the Quiz sequence), and even includes itself -- and it was going to even include other games, but myopic trademark orthodoxy (Donkey Kong being mentioned only in words) prevented the devs from doing that, even though they were going to reference a game they had created and publishied).

Yup, all in all it went down in History as "the furry version of Super Mario 64", yet it gave players its own overdose of hardcore platforming that kinda easened a bit the summers and winters spent on the youth's then-national sport: spending yer momma's child support on videogames honing your concentration while locked in garage during child support's days spent imprisoned.

Videogames were the mass scale anti-poaching refrain throughout the Western World: it is not a case their popularity coincided with the rise in divorces, violent gangs, pollution, and apathy (albeit I dare to suggest all of these are definetively related with consumerism).

As a side note, I shall place emphasis over the relationship between the risk-adverse behavior of today's culture and the risk-adversion of modern videocames when compared with the risky daring older videogames and the riskier daring attitude in the youth of previous generations. Well, THAT would be worth investigating.

As impactful as Super Mario 64 was to the then prevalent 3D platformer genre, I’m not sure the game can take all of the credit for being the genre’s sole primary influence. I always bestow the plumber’s landmark 3D debut with a considerable amount of veneration, for Nintendo’s efforts in remodeling Mario for the cutting edge next polygonal phase of gaming created an entirely original experience that set the stage for a radical new realm of possibilities. While Super Mario 64 was the game that pioneered the non-linear, explorative “collectathon” 3D platformer subgenre, its indelible mark on the era obviously echoed to several other games of the same ilk to follow its example. Being the building blocks of a genre sort of connotes that your disciples expand upon your foundation instead of contently resting at ground zero. Also, Super Mario 64 set an unintentional implication in that the pervasive platformer genre could only survive in the third-dimension with this direction. Mario, the de facto king of the genre, seemingly had to forgo his standard, linear roots so drastically in Super Mario 64, so this meant that all other platformer icons new and old had to assimilate to the change or perish. With both its rudimentary footing and massive impact in consideration, one of Super Mario 64’s many offsprings had to have the potential to outclass its progenitor. The game that would truly innovate on what Super Mario 64 established was a new IP from the British then-Nintendo subsidiary developer Rare in the form of Banjo Kazooie. One of the reasons I revere Super Mario 64 despite its vestigial framework is because it's the godfather of every game that I grew up with in the subsequent generation. However, while this is still true, it seems like Banjo-Kazooie has a more clear and direct line with my cherished video games from childhood on the 3D platformer family tree. Also, my praise for Banjo-Kazooie ascends past the reasonable level of respect I give to its fellow N64 linchpin Super Mario 64, for Banjo-Kazooie is still a solid rock of a 3D platformer whose quality has not been weathered by time.

It’s amusing to see how a British developer attempts to encapsulate the magic of Mario, and I’m not only referring to the mechanics of the “collectathon” subgenre. Mario’s peerless high-ranking in the echelons of gaming can be attested to his wide accessibility in his presentation. Mario captures that spectacle of Japanese whimsy that is neither too immature or off-puttingly bizarre, sort of in the same vein as the successful fellow Japanese animation corporation Studio Ghibli. The tasteful balance on display is probably indicative of a country that has both a storied mythical lore and an inordinate amount of nuclear radiation exposure than the rest of the world. The western world might be beguiled by Mario’s foreign charm, but can they tangibly translate their wonder into something original? Banjo-Kazooie’s western interpretation of Mario’s aesthetic is to emphasize the wacky animated aspects of the plumber’s world. I guess our western equivalent to Mario’s mirthfulness is our cartoons. Banjo-Kazooie’s presentation is not overtly British like one of Terry Gilliam’s illustrations from a Monty Python skit (though that would be super cool). Rather, Banjo Kazooie conveys that animation drawn for a broad demographic west of the prime meridian tends to feature exaggerated physical proportions and anthropomorphic animals as central characters. Banjo-Kazooie is brimming with archetypal western cartoon attributes, given that the game’s protagonist is a bipedal bear and every enemy, from the hopping vegetables to the tombstones, all have a pair of goofy-looking googly eyes to signify their sentience. Because of how cartoonish the aesthetic is, Banjo-Kazooie resembles a product catered towards a younger audience. Unfortunately, it’s not as accessible as Mario because the overall tone might come across as too juvenile for some adolescent/adult gamers. The hints of toilet humor also probably do not help its case. Still, the appeal of Banjo Kazooie is apparent due to how dynamically lighthearted everything is, like an old Mickey Mouse cartoon. Doubling down on the innocuous elements from accessible forms of western media is probably the most inspired decision from the developers regarding the game’s presentation.

One of the pervasive childlike elements of Banjo-Kazooie is its fairy tale plot premise, a staple of mythology. Gruntilda, a prototypical depiction of a nasty, evil witch from the most famous of Grimm’s classic stories, is performing the usual duties of this age-old archetype of toiling and troubling over her bubbling cauldron. The clairvoyant wisdom she seeks from her boiling pot is whether or not she’s the “nicest looking wench” in the land, and is offended at the cauldron’s candid response telling her that she isn’t. Why someone who revels in being obstinately filthy and grotesque like a kid-friendly version of Divine would care if she satisfies traditional beauty standards is beyond me, but I digress. The “fairest maiden” to be found is Tooty, a young female bear with blonde pigtails who conveniently lives in a comfy little home situated down the hill from Grundtilda’s domain. I guess the radius of beauty the cauldron can assess is confined by the same zip code. Gruntilda’s solution to being outshined by some neighborhood child is to abduct her and initiate a procedure where their matter will be swapped, as Gruntilda will receive all of Tooty’s beautiful attributes while Tooty becomes as beastly as Gruntilda. Tooty is also Banjo’s younger sister, so he’s naturally inclined to stop this horrendous experiment before his sister is doomed to looking like a green warthog. Not only do fairy tales often present a heinous witch complete with tall black hat and broomstick as a common antagonist, but the old versus young parallel between women is a prevalent theme across some notable examples (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty). Banjo-Kazooie prevents itself from the puerile trappings of its fairy tale influences by subverting this plot premise with slight parody, like Shrek would succeed in doing a few years later. Pop culture references to both Frankenstein and The Fly are clearly seen in the game’s “game over” sequence where her hunchback lab assistant Klungo throws the switch to energize two opposite matter machines with Tooty and Gruntilda enclosed. While Banjo Kazooie still exudes a childish aura, tongue-in-cheek jabs at fairy tale tropes keep it from feeling infantile.

Banjo the character actually debuted in Diddy Kong Racing the year prior in Rare’s lineup of original cute and cuddly playable characters that meshed well alongside Nintendo’s petite, baseball cap-wearing chimp (if only Conker’s inclusion here hasn’t aged like sour milk). Out of all of these characters to greenlight into a new IP, why choose Banjo over say, Bumper the Badger or Tipsy the Mouse? Timber the Tiger arguably even had more mascot potential, as his baseball cap with the Rare insignia mirrored Diddy’s Nintendo cap. Is it due to his relatively higher strength build, or does the necklace, pants, and backpack combination make him more visually enticing than the other character with one distinctive feature? Truth be told, I’m not all too certain why Banjo ascended past a two-bit supporting role among the Diddy Kong Racing roster while all the others (except for Conker) continued to wallow in obscurity. This is especially curious considering Kazooie does most of the legwork (almost literally). The second half of the game’s hyphenated title did not exist during Banjo’s humble beginnings as a cart driver, as she was introduced by Rare to accompany Banjo on his debut platforming adventure. The brightly-colored bird of unknown species resides in Banjo’s backpack as stationary as if she’s on house arrest, and Banjo better hope she’s actually fused to his blue accessory because he’d be hopeless without her.

Banjo and Kazooie have an interesting character dynamic in that the mechanics of both characters are consistently utilized in tandem with one another, used by a single player. Banjo is obviously the primary kinetic force in their partnership as he lugs Kazooie in his backpack. His primary role as the leg muscle also extends to his arms as the game’s basic combat, as the bear will knock enemies around with a barrage of left and right hooks and roll into enemies with the force of his entire body while moving. Disappointingly enough, punches from a bear aren’t as furious and deadly as one would expect because Banjo’s arms seem as short as a T-Rex’s. The rolling move feels more fluid and ensures a more accurate hit, but its trajectory is still rather stilted. Kazooie’s pecking move when Banjo jumps in the air compensates for the bear’s pitiful range, and the direction can be changed in the few seconds when both are in mid-air. Kazooie must have some penguin DNA in her genetic mix because her wings wade beneath the water while Banjo just doggy paddles on the surface. Actually, Kazooie’s swimming indicates that she’s not an aquatic bird because the underwater controls are appallingly rigid. Yet, Kazooie’s willingness to carry Banjo through the adventure forces her to perform tasks outside of her comfort zone. Banjo’s bespectacled mole friend Bottles pops out of his arrangement of mole hills to teach Kazooie certain skills to really overload Kazooie’s workload. On the offensive side, Kazooie will tug on Banjo’s backpack to execute a body slam similar to Mario’s ass stomp to press buttons and such. A specific combination of the crouch move will trigger a number of Kazooie’s special techniques, namely Kazooie spurting out baby blue eggs out of her mouth and cloaca (ew) as projectile attacks. The “Talon Trot” sees Kazooie shifting the mobile roles as she carries Banjo on her back instead. With the stronger adhesive strength of her talons sticking to steep, angled inclines, increased running speed, and limitless usage, it seems like Banjo could simply lie on his lazy ass the whole time doing nothing. Two different types of pads will appear to launch Banjo upward, with the green pads giving his jump an exorbitant boost and the red pads as a launch point for Kazooie to soar through the skies until the red feather ammunition is fully depleted. Must I further highlight why Kazooie probably should’ve gotten first billing in the game’s title?

Banjo and Kazooie’s simultaneous dynamic isn’t only limited to how they interact on the field. For a video game genre that usually doesn’t offer much dialogue or characterization, both Banjo and Kazooie are quite loquacious, along with the rest of their world. The dialogue in Banjo Kazooie is displayed with scrolling text in a speech bubble with a character icon on the far side. Speech is not enunciated by any characters: rather; vocal inflections are expressed through warbles that have a distinctive cadence per character. If you come across any lighthearted game with cartoony graphics that has this type of gibberish voice acting style, Banjo-Kazooie is the game that popularized it (but don’t quote me on that). When interacting with NPCs, Banjo and Kazooie act as character foils. Banjo is a well-meaning dope that approaches people and situations very matter-of-factly, while Kazooie is shockingly caustic. Another reason why Banjo better pray that Kazooie is stuck to the inside of his backpack with superglue is because the bird has an acid tongue; a biting insult for every NPC she comes across, and one NPC might lash out by taking her by her bird neck and throttle her. Nevertheless, Banjo’s good cop, bad cop routine with his backpack bird gives them a wonderful personal chemistry. Some notable NPCs that Kazooie often gives a harsh tongue lashing to are the aforementioned Bottles, Banjo’s mild-mannered mole friend who somehow knows more about Kazooie’s physical dexterity more than she does. Mumbo Jumbo is a slightly racist depiction of an African witch doctor who owns a few small hut properties across many of the game’s levels that resemble his golden skull mask. Other miscellaneous NPCs that Banjo isn’t as chummy with are the hapless camel Gobi, the covetous Conga the Ape, and the blubbering hippo commander of the “Salty Hippo” sea ship aptly named Captain Blubber, to name a few. Compared to the litany of cookie cutter Toads that Mario speaks to in Super Mario 64, Banjo-Kazooie’s cast of secondary characters is amazingly eclectic.

Banjo-Kazooie isn’t a lengthy 3D platformer that swells the number of collectibles to prolong the experience. In fact, the total number of levels the game offers is significantly less than that of Super Mario 64. Though Banjo-Kazooie’s content lacks the quantity present in its influence, the game more than compensates with the quality of the levels. What impresses me about Banjo-Kazooie’s environments is their sheer immensity. As twee and jovial as Banjo’s world seems from an aesthetic standpoint, something about the way the game displays it exudes a crushing feeling. Immediately, this foreboding aura seems prevalent with Banjo’s hub. After the tutorial section of the grassy Spiral Mountain in Banjo’s backyard, the duration of the game is centered around the confines of Gruntilda’s Lair. The interior of Grundtilda’s wicked visage molded from the rocky cliffs of Spiral Mountain is as voluminous as the recesses of a dank underground cavern. Rescuing Tooty is a steep vertical climb up to the lair’s apex where the experiment is being conducted, and Banjo must progressively piece together every floor of Gruntilda’s Lair on his upward journey (literally). Gruntilda’s Lair is the antithesis of what I’ve always claimed to be an effective hub world, which is a modest place of respite between all of the levels where the call to action is heightened. Gruntilda’s Lair acting as the game’s centerpiece is almost like cutting out the middleman of the Peach’s Castle hub in Super Mario 64 and storming Bowser’s Castle immediately in the most glacial rescue operation ever executed. Gruntilda’s goons roam around on every floor and the witch’s omniscient presence is always felt, and that’s only partly due to her taunting Banjo and his bird with her AB rhyme schemes over some sort of intercom system. However, I’m willing to give Gruntilda’s Lair a pass as the enemy encounters are very slight and the enclosure of the spacious walls feel as tight as Fort Knox while inside them. The oppressive aura mood doesn’t stem from a notion of danger, but how small and insignificant Banjo looks juxtaposed with the massive walls surrounding him. Also, I must commend Gruntilda’s Lair for taking the hub format of Super Mario 64 and streamlining the non-linear hub to a constant vertical incline because progression feels more satisfying. I just wish Banjo wasn’t forced to start from square one every time the player exits the game, with the few teleportation cauldrons withstanding.

As to be expected, Banjo-Kazooie’s levels that protrude from the hub are a varied bunch that curate a wide selection of typical platformer level motifs. Every base is fully covered, ranging from a beach level, snow level, spooky level, etc. However, I did state before that Banjo-Kazooie’s levels were richer in substance despite the marginal number of them, and also that they follow suit on the hub’s expansiveness. Despite the seemingly standard levels, the developers have added some deeper thematic flair that transcends their base motif. For example, Treasure Trove Cove, the beach level, is plastered with pirate imagery, including an immobile ship at its center along with several silly-looking treasure chest beasts with goodies inside them. The winter wonderland of Freezeezy Peak uses the time of year associated with the season to engulf the level in Christmas cheer, something only a western developer could fully epitomize due to living in a culture that actually celebrates the holiday as opposed to Japan observing it as outsiders. I suppose the same could be said for Halloween formulating the inspiration behind Mad Monster Mansion, but the specific elements of horror associated with that holiday were always less solidified.
One level that takes a typical level motif into a wild direction is Clanker’s Cavern. I think this is Rare tackling a sewer level, but all of the properties usually found in those types of terrains are only slightly recognizable. Maybe I was distracted by Clanker, the metallic shark floating in the center of the level in a pool of filthy backwashed water massive enough to fit the shark’s titanic, steamboat stature. Besides his size, Clanker’s also a great unsubtle eyesore because he looks like hell. The beastly machine has rusted over in the years he’s served as Gruntilda’s garbage disposal, with his murky eyeballs bulging out of his skull and a shockingly graphic fissure of pulpy, red flesh near the base of his left fin. He lives a fate that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but the arena where he’s condemned to live out his days is still a monumental stride in 3D level design due to its upscaled breadth. Enclosed areas will be found per level such as the pyramids of the Gobi Valley, the interior quarters of the ship in Rusty Bucket Bay, and the pink, veiny insides of Clanker’s decaying body, and they are exciting to excavate upon uncovering them and present layers of depth in the level design. My favorite level in the game that combines an interesting theme alongside a breathtaking scope is Click Clock Wood. The entrance of the level acts as a foyer connecting four paths each represented by a season. The wooded area with a towering tree trunk at the center shares the same layout behind each door, but the aesthetic of the level is affected by the weather conditions of each subsequent equinox. From the beginning of the rainy budding of Spring, then the baked warmth of Summer, to the auburn glow of Autumn, and finally the desolate chill of winter, I was stunned to feel a slight sting of sentimentalism at the end of the cycle. The many overarching tasks throughout each season also adds to the profound depth of the area’s level progression. What Rare managed to execute here is truly astonishing.

The word I’d use to describe Banjo-Kazooie’s overall design philosophy is conspicuous. Already, the word can be used to define the way in which the levels are depicted because every angle of the spacious playgrounds enlarges the player’s range of sight. Besides enrapturing the player with a broad spectacle, crafting each level with a wide range of sight in mind is perfect for the loose exploration parameters of each level. The proverbial boot that kicked Mario out of every level upon either succeeding or failing in Super Mario 64 is completely discarded in Banjo-Kazooie. Obtaining a “jiggy” piece, the main collectable that unlocks new levels in the hub by fitting them in an unfinished jigsaw puzzle of the area, will never hastily eject the player back into the hub. I’m glad that Rare remedied Nintendo’s awkward mistake here, for its a much more sensible approach to the collectathon format. Because the player is free to explore each area without the boot-out system in place, every objective is of equal precedence, which is why allowing the player to scope them out easily while exploring is imperative. When the player comes across a point of interest on the map, the game frames the scenario clearly enough to signal that a Jiggy could be earned here. Objectives to claim Jiggies are incredibly varied, ranging from puzzle minigames, fighting hordes of enemies, races, platforming challenges, etc. The diversity on display here assures that each Jiggy task will be somewhat unique and never tire the player with repetitive tedium. One highlight task seen throughout the game is transforming Banjo’s body into another animal or creature with the help of Mumbo’s voodoo powers. Playing as a termite, alligator, walrus, pumpkin, and bee doesn’t allow Banjo to execute the same physical feats compared to when Kazooie is strapped to his back, but playing as these funny forms for a short period does enough to diversify the gameplay even more.

To make Mumbo flick his wand and say the magic words, Banjo first needs to collect enough silver, skull-shaped tokens to satisfy the pygmy magician. Not to worry, for these tokens are as prominent as the Jiggy pieces. The other collectibles such as the candy-coated, multicolored Jingo creatures and the honeycomb pieces that increase Banjo’s maximum health are a tad more unobtrusive, but never to the extent where the player will ever experience a stress-induced aneurysm trying to scope them out. The game’s secondary collectible, the golden music notes, are strewn around the level so abundantly that they’re almost like currency. I had hoped that the developers would have treated them as a form of currency because the ones the player collects respawn in the same spots if the player dies. Doing a thorough examination of a level’s layout while the land is fresh is one thing, but performing the same trek to regain these sonorous half-notes is incredibly grating. I wouldn’t mind so much if the notes weren’t necessary to proceed through Gruntilda’s Lair, and the quantity needed gets pretty stiff near the end of the game. It’s the one collectathon aspect in the game that the developers neglected to carefully consider.

The player will have to meticulously scrounge through every nook and cranny in the game anyways to prepare for the final battle against Gruntilda. This is not only because doors locked behind substantially high music note numbers are the only means of replenishing ammunition, but because of what occurs before it. Before Banjo can confront the foul face of Gruntilda up close and personal, the sickly-colored stereotype stalls him and Kazooie with a little game. And by little game, I mean Trivial Pursuit from hell. “Grunty’s Furnace Fun” tests the player’s knowledge of everything in the game, including level layouts, music cues, voices, and odd tidbits about Gruntilda that her good witch counterpart informs Banjo of at many instances. Banjo also revisits old minigames with an added timer for a steeper challenge. This array of questions delves into information so obscure that it's sadistic. Did you not know the percentage of fecal matter in the waters of Bubblegloop Swamp, or were unable to decipher Mumbo Mountain by a picture of its grass? Into the fiery drink you go, you idiot! The pathway of panels to the otherside where Gruntilda is as long as the Brooklyn Bridge, and the margins of error are incredibly strict. A few panels immediately launch Banjo to his death, which will send him back to square one. I understand that this kind of inanity is in character for Gruntilda, but forcing the player to endure this seems like a contemptuous slight from the developers. They knew this wouldn’t be fun for anyone. Fortunately, the game offers a proper final boss fight with Gruntilda that utilizes all of the player’s physical prowess in an epic fight at the peak of her lair. Weirdly enough, the credits will roll after the game show portion to dupe the player into thinking they finished the game beforehand. I think offering the real final fight as a reward for collecting all the Jiggies would’ve been a better incentive, and what they decided to do here is rather obtuse.

If Super Mario 64 is the grandfather of the 3D platformer, then Banjo-Kazooie is the father figure for all other games in the subgenre that followed. Being younger than Mario’s 3D debut allows Banjo-Kazooie to use its mistakes as reference, and Banjo-Kazooie rectifies all that Mario established with the same collectathon ethos intact. Banjo-Kazooie is bigger, more free-flowing, more ambitious, and more involved in its collectathon gameplay mechanics than Super Mario 64 could possibly have ever hoped for. No wonder why every platformer that I grew up with took notice and borrowed so much from Banjo-Kazooie to the point where Super Mario 64 seemed like the obsolete model. Check mate, Mario. You’ve been bested by a bear and his bird.

this game is really fun and addicting and there was clearly so much love and passion poured into it combined with a deep infatuation with video game design and video games as an artform and i cant get enough of it ever but a lot of the puzzles and sometimes entire levels make me turn into the joker

Of all the games in Rare’s expansive catalog, Banjo-Kazooie best encapsulates the studio’s storied history. A quirky 3D platformer that represents Rare at the peak of the creative prowess, it was released on the Nintendo 64 at a time when the console was already flagging against Sony’s CD-powered juggernaut. The circumstances of its release, and Rare’s subsequent shift from working exclusively with Nintendo to joining Microsoft, have led the bear and bird to becoming a forgotten duo.

In any case, the creativity here is undeniable. Banjo-Kazooie feels like an indie developer’s fever-dream Unity platformer that was given enough support to blossom into a full-blown, high-quality game. Banjo and Kazooie are as zany as heroes come, and the supporting cast is even zanier. Who thought to pit the player against a crotchety green witch who always speaks in rhyme? And how about the “Game Over” cutscene, which in 2023 wouldn’t get off the drawing board, much less into the final source code? Green-skinned Barbie is so 1998.

Every room is different from the last, and the game always kept me in the dark about what was coming next. But when every level is an experiment, there are bound to be a few flops, and in Banjo-Kazooie the questionable design decisions disproportionately weigh down the back half. Rusty Bucket Bay and Click Clock Wood have finicky platforming bits, with long walks of shame when you inevitably fall and need to try again. Then there’s Grunty’s Furnace Fun, the final stage, whose name that’s only two-thirds true. It feels like a throwback to NES-era game design, with the bonus addition of guide-proof trivia questions thrown in just for kicks. I didn’t much enjoy it, though I admit I felt a small sense of satisfaction upon passing it and then laying the smackdown on the final boss.

While these sections are annoying in a modern context, one in which I have thousands of games to play and not enough time to play them, I suspect if I went back in time to 1998 I’d feel differently. Nintendo 64 game carts were expensive, and for a kid with just a couple of them, Banjo-Kazooie’s level of difficulty would’ve been a godsend, providing extra hours of fun. Although many players gave up before reaching the true ending, the good vibes they felt while dashing, jumping, and flying around the game’s lovingly crafted levels were crystalized in their memories for decades to come.

As I write this review, it’s already been over a week since I finished Banjo-Kazooie. Yet even now, with my playthrough not even a month behind me, I can already feel my recollections of the game growing fonder. Frustration fades away and only fond impressions of pure creative exuberance remain. Perhaps this explains why everyone thought Yooka-Laylee was a good idea until they didn’t.