|
It might be overstating things to liken the advent of the Nintendo Entertainment System to a broad change in society structure, but certainly, times were different. Parents watched their kids gleefully indulge in Super Mario's fireballs for hours on end, and what might've been considered just another fad quickly established itself as a long-running contender -- playing Nintendo, for better or for worse, was going to be a just-as-typical afterschool foray as games of wiffle ball and TV toon marathons. It was a great time to be a kid, but with those quiet, nagging doubts that video games weren't rooted in anything worthwhile, it probably wasn't as great a time to be an analyzing parent.
You've got to remember, the world wasn't as stark raving mad back then. Something as innocent as an 8-bit hockey video game where fat players beat on small players seemed way more risque than it would in today's wacky culture -- and just how wacky is our culture? Well, I just saw a commercial promoting Apple Jacks' new inclusion of blue, carrot-shaped cereal pieces. Blue carrots, folks. We're a world gone mad. Nintendo was established, but they didn't have time and precedent on their side yet. When it came to groups of parents speaking ill of their product's influence, they treaded carefully.
In an effort that seemed much more for the cause of shutting up naysayers than of actually making money, Nintendo sought to create a few educational titles -- something they could point to and say, "hey, but we made this!" whenever a self-christened missionary complained about the all of the virtual violence and seizure-inducing flashing screens. The games were pretty awful by and large, at least when judged on their actual "fun factor." But for clamming up loudmouths and issuing a plausible alternative for especially young kids who pined to play, they went a long way. Arguably the most famous of this subgroup and 1980's most expensive calculator is the all-but-forgotten and exceedingly rare "Donkey Kong Jr. Math."
Still critically panned almost two decades later, one should at least admit that Donkey Kong Jr. Math wasn't really a "game" to begin with. It didn't have legs to stand on when compared to virtually any other title, even the ones you really hated playing. Adequate for kids of the lowest of the low ages, Nintendo boasted about the game's ability to help kids practice their math. No arguments there -- you can't play the thing without practicing math, unless you're trying to prove to friends that you're so good at video games, you can beat 'em blindfolded. In that case, this would be a perfect choice. You really can't "die" unless you're trying to, and if you sat there long enough just pushing buttons while steering the monkeys, Papa Kong would eventually declare you the winner.
I won't lie and pretend I know how well it sold, because unlike the times I do that in every other article, there's a small chance someone might actually know enough about this topic to call me out on it. Damn. I so thought I could phone in this one. Still, it's a rare find these days, with boxed editions demanding just about as high a price as any other NES classic. The rise of emulation has made it an easily found and played title, which only heightens the chance of murky memories making shit up about how common it was back then. Here's my review...
Article continued below advertisement:
Visit our sponsors to support the site!
It could've easily been argued that this whole "educational games for kids" thing was an untapped cash cow, and the fact that the market never surged was due to the games' penchant for being totally boring and uninspired. Donkey Kong Jr. Math came out much too early in the NES era to really be viewed as an artistic failure, but later titles certainly fit that shoe. Regardless, it ain't fun and even back when these now-dated graphics seemed magical, I can't picture too many kids busting a testicle over it.
The stages were designed to look vaguely Donkey Kongish, and the characters were obviously familiar. You had Donkey Kong, always a favorite, with his also-famous son who was no stranger to the arcades and home gaming systems. Plus, when facing off against the computer or a friend, you played against a bright pink version of yourself -- further proof that DK's sex life wasn't a one time fluke.
Don't be fooled by the three listed types of gameplay -- the first two are virtually identical save for difficulty, and the third wasn't any more entertaining than the kids' math textbooks. I don't know how long they spent putting this thing together, but someone was obviously cutting a little too close to their vacation time in those final stages.
There's the battlegrounds. On the left, you. You're Donkey Kong Junior, and you're wearing a wifebeater. On the right, your enemy, your blood, your evil twin brother. Up on top, Papa Donkey Kong. Serving as a sort of mutant hybrid between a moderator and a tennis judge and a monkey, his job is to hold up the "goal numbers" enroute to declaring a winner.
When Donkey Kong holds up a number, any number, your mission is to arrive at it by doing a little math equation. Your tools are symbols for division, multiplication, addition and subtraction -- these adhere your choice of numbers like GLUE. You're free to keep doing more math crap to the numbers till you match the magic one, but the key lies in your ability to do it before the sinister, pink, evil version of you. The first contestant to successfully match five numbers is declared the champion. It's a more fulfilling victory than you might think -- allegedly a battle of brains, you're free to call the guy you just beat "stupid." You always do anyway, but now the claim seemed more legitimate.
By the way, the computer never wins. Never. You can turn the game on, get up, get the mail, fetch the paper, shower, shit, cook a turkey, drive it to a homeless center and wait till their next charitable holiday feast, come home, and THE COMPUTER STILL WOULDN'T HAVE WON THE GAME YET. Be prepared for hollow victories when playing against this pitiful example of AI, or better yet, find some poor soul willing to play against you instead.
No video game is complete without some coups for the victors, so every time you match a number correctly, Donkey Kong paws at the box he's standing on in a show of pride while the opposing monkey's left eye grows to abnormally large and painful sizes. It's almost as if the two sons are competing for daddy's love here -- kind of sick to see, but at least DK'll know he got the smartest kid when he announces a favorite.
It's more challenging than it looks, though only slightly. Sometimes you'll require an "action symbol" that's all the way across the board, causing you to lose valuable time and increasing your potential of inadvertently hitting into the wrong numbers. It's tough to screw up, but remember, Donkey Kong Jr. Math is meant for the smallest of the small, thus the slowest of the slow. I'll give it this much, though: you're always moving, so even if the action seems kinda blah, at least it's perpetual. It'd almost be maddening if the game provided something a little more intense than figuring out which two numbers added up to "16."
As said, the first player to match five numbers wins, and to the victor go the spoils: the baby ape who takes the crown also takes the respected spot at Donkey Kong's side, while the loser wallows in eye pain and pity, ostracized and bastardized for his inability to divide and multiply. Honestly, not a terrible time waster. It's actually a decent pick if you're just looking to kill time without running the chance of becoming emotionally involved in what you're playing while waiting for someone to pick you up -- trust me, they'll never be a point where pressing that "power" button prematurely on this game leaves you soured. You'll just shrug off the whole experience and move on like it never even happened. That's exactly, exactly what you'd do.
By the way, you can only "die" by falling into one of the open pits. Even then, you get to start right over with no notable loss of time. Donkey Kong Jr. would've benefited from a bonus hammer that let you smash the other player into a recuperation time penalty. Mostly because, you know, then you'd get to smack the other monkey with a hammer.
The exercise board is barely worth mentioning -- just solving all sorts of math problems while moving from round to round. It probably provides better actual math practice than the trump stages, but really, who cares about that?
Overall: The title is an interesting relic that reminds us of the position Nintendo was in back then -- the new guy with the new toy, with white hot popularity, forced to make a few concessions to those who weren't quite ready for the major, major shift in their children's chosen activities. Course, plenty of parents these days grew up playing video games, so today's gripes are usually reserved for the special occasions when the games show tits exploding and religious icons being set on fire. As for Donkey Kong Junior himself, the poor monkey's lost a lot of steam over the years. When the guy who organizes Donkey Kong's interlevel airplane flights is more recognizable than his son, you know there's a sad story hidden deep in there somewhere. Don't feel too bad for the kid, though -- he made his mark. In fact, he made THE mark. The distinction that sets a video game character apart from the pack in ways that could never be achieved on a television screen. Donkey Kong Junior had his own cereal...
And you know what? It was pretty good! Definitely one of the stranger cereal schemes we've seen, with cherry and banana fruit puffs in realistic shapes, packaged in the most obnoxiously lime green box in the history of obnoxiously lime green boxes. I don't remember ever being that intrigued with Donkey Kong lore as a child, and assume that I tried the stuff because no young child is going to pass on a bright green box with an insanely happy cartoon monkey on it. Remembered for its mailaway offer for free DK-themed Pez dispensers, this was an otherwise short-lived flop plagued by the fact that nobody wanted to eat banana cereal. Come on, that's the candy flavor we always skip. They should've known better and pretended that gorillas were grape obsessors. I'm just saying.
Now that I think about it, someone in a position of power must've really hated Donkey Kong's kid. First they chuck him in the only Nintendo game that's gotta spark interest with arithmetic, and then they shaft him with the banana cereal? No wonder he retired. Even Mario would've taken a walk after being dealt that hand.
RETURN TO X-E!
|
|
|
|
