Why Donkey Kong Country is a Better Platformer Than Super Mario Bros.

I
know that it’s absurd to compare two games that were released over a
decade apart, but what the hell, but I’m going to do it anyway. I’ve
recently become a bit of a pariah among my fellow 1UP editors due to my
opinions on Donkey Kong
Country
, Rare’s 1994 foray into
the world of the SNES. While few would dispute the game’s technological
merits, not many around these parts agree with me that DKC is a far
better and much more playable platformer than the original Super Mario Bros.

Please set down your pitchforks
and extinguish those torches.

Donkey Kong Country was the
game that began Rare’s ascent to creative bliss. Anyone who owned a
Super Nintendo or a Nintendo 64 has undoubtedly fond memories of
playing any number of the British developer’s classic titles, whether
it was slapping down Jago in Killer Instinct
or planting the perfect proximity mine in GoldenEye,
and this hot streak all began with the reinvention of Mario’s original
nemesis. A few years after the plumber journeyed around the world,
Donkey Kong was tasked with exploring his island in search of his
stolen banana hoard. The game was a dense, cutting-edge package that
showcased the power of the SNES and provided what I feel to be a
perfect platforming experience. As you can probably tell by the video
below, my fellow editors do not share in these views.

 Why Donkey Kong Country is a Better Platformer Than Super Mario Bros.

I was shocked to discover that
DKC‘s visuals have grown to become divisive, with one of the main
complaints being that the entire world has a plastic sheen to it. As
one of the pioneers of pre-rendered 3D graphics in games, DKC didn’t
resemble a cartoon so much as an extremely detailed toy box. I fell in
love with the character models because they reminded me so much of the
action figures I grew up smashing against each other on the carpeted
floor of my bedroom. The fact that Rare was able to create an entire
world that out of the performances that I imagined with my toys evoked
a feeling in me that has yet to be matched to this day. Super Mario
Bros
. asked you to imagine the expanse of the world you were running
through. Donkey Kong Country didn’t need to ask this of the player.

As much as the game’s visuals
resonated with me, it was the soundtrack that managed to burrow deep
into my mind. SMB may have a handful of the most memorable music in
video game history, but it’s DKC‘s amazing suite of jungle tunes that I
still find myself listening to 20 years later. Each track manages to
utilize elements of the environment, from wind to animals to the
morphing of sounds underwater, and incorporate them with truly
unforgettable melodies. Each track feels like an extension of the
visuals that represent the varying locales of the island. As you dive
to the bottom of a lagoon, the distant ambiance of the music highlights
the untapped majesty of the space you’re exploring. Likewise, when you
travel to the peak of a snowy mountain, the tracks become as ominous
and foreboding as the endless crevices that dangerously pepper the
landscape. The music pulls more than its weight in creating a succinct
and memorable world that unravels in varying amounts depending on how
much you put into the game.

SMB may have perfected the
concepts of timing and inertia in platformers, but DKC built upon these
pillars by adding a wealth of optional moves and techniques for players
to learn throughout the course of the game. One could make it through
to the end by using a rudimentary moveset, but by experimenting with
both characters, you quickly realize just how deep your control over
the pair of primates really is. Combat, exploration, and jumping all
change based on which chimp you control, giving the game unseen depth
for those willing to dive in. Super Mario Bros. demanded perfection
from the player; Donkey Kong Country encouraged experimentation. I’ll
take the latter over the former.

The scope of each game’s
control mechanics also go hand-in-hand with their respective level
designs. Despite having a majority of the game take place outside,
Super Mario Bros. consistently feels like you’re controlling the
plumber as he barrels down the length of an impossibly narrow hallway.
The extent of your exploration rarely exceeds the dimensions of the
frame that is presented before you. Part of this is obviously a
limitation of the 2D perspective, but Donkey Kong Country managed to
use a combination of level design and slight of hand to convince
players that the world they were exploring went on far beyond the
boundaries of your television. Walls to destroy, secret cannons to
destroy, and areas only accessible with the help of your fellow members
of the animal kingdom all combined to give the island a sense of scope
and wonder that made it feel like these locations actually existed long
before your character entered the frame.

Despite all of this, the most
important reason that I choose DKC over SMB is simple: Donkey Kong is
possibly the most dapper character in video game history. Just take a
look at DK as he rocks that red tie without even the slightest hint of
pants. Seriously, he’s as close to a Kennedy as we’re going to ever get
in video games. Wardrobe aside, I am in no way discounting the
monumental impact that Super Mario Bros. had on our medium. Without it,
not only would there be no Donkey Kong Country, but our industry would
be an unimaginably different beast. But in 2012, when I sit down and
want to experience platforming perfection, I’ll choose Rare’s
masterpiece every single time.

1UP Community Feature: Gaming Problems of the ’90s

The year was 1998 and I had finally saved up enough money to get a used PlayStation and a copy of Final Fantasy VII.
I got a ride to the local game store and went home with a huge smile on my face. Soon after returning home, two issues surfaced.
The red, yellow, and white cords didn’t plug in anywhere on the old TV in my room, and the game was prompting me for a memory card
that I did not have. This meant that I couldn’t save my progress and I had to take turns using the TV in the family room. It took
two weeks to finally get an RF adapter, and another two weeks to finally get that first memory card. Finally, I could progress
past the Train Graveyard.

Here at 1UP we’ve spent some time recently talking about the ’90s. Saving your game progress on a cartridge or external card isn’t
exclusive to that decade, but now it seems almost archaic — something few gamers will miss. Nowadays our consoles have
built-in storage and cloud saves, and you don’t normally worry about those things called “memory cards.” Let?s take a look at some
of the 1UP Community’s ’90s Video Game Problems.

95067 913 1UP Community Feature: Gaming Problems of the 90s

3rd Party Memory Cards

…when I first got my PlayStation, I let the dude talk me into getting a Mad Catz memory card, ’cause you know, five bucks cheaper.
Penny-wise and pound foolish is more like it. I got Valkyrie Profile and Final Fantasy IX at about the same time, made it halfway through
both games… and my memory card simply quit working. The PlayStation wouldn’t recognize that there even was a memory card inserted. After that,
I stuck with Sony memory cards. — San Andreas

No Data

During the PS2 days, i got a demo disc in the mail from Sony that had a bug in it. If you played to the end of the Viewtiful Joe 2 demo,
it would reset and erase EVERYTHING on any memory card that was inserted in the system. Unfortunately, I did not know this at the time, so I lost a
lot of stuff. I did complain about it, and they sent me a free game (I think it was Sly 2), but somehow that didn’t seem to make up for it.
To this day I’m a little more leery about Sony products. — Cary Woodham

da20a 914 1UP Community Feature: Gaming Problems of the 90s

The A-Team

My little brother was possibly the most dedicated Final Fantasy Tactics player ever. He grinded through every job for every character. His
characters were so powerful that he could only play for 10-15 minutes at a time before the game would crash. He gave a copy of his “B-Team”
data (only halfway through capping every job) to our friend who was a Square Enix QA Manager. He said my brother had hit levels that nobody
in the company had. Which made it easy for his team of testers to fly through the game. My little brother laughed, “You should see my
A-Team data.” — BigMex

That One Friend…

My very first experience of losing my game progress came from Breath of Fire II for the SNES, one of my favorite games of all time (if you
haven’t figured that out yet). I was seven years old and quite proud of the four or five hours I put into the game after I got it for my birthday.
My memory?s a little hazy, but I recall letting a friend borrow the game while I borrowed his copy of Donkey Kong Country 2. I distinctly remember
telling him not to copy or erase my save, to just use his own slot and stick to it. Fast forward a few days later: He comes to my doorstep with
his mother, who tells me that my save game got accidentally deleted when he tried to copy a save. He brought his mom over because he was afraid
to tell me the truth himself. — Nuka_Cola via his
feature