And yet, despite the intensity of my familarity with Castle of Illusion, I never tire of it. It's trivial to me now, more or less, though I still take hits from the final boss due to pure laziness. I've played it at least twice a year since I got it, on the original hardware as often as possible. I know this silly little game so well that I can clock it near-effortlessly, though that one bastard of a treasure chest right at the end of the clock tower often eludes me.
To call it memorable is a disservice to memories. Every stage offers a different hook - the underground ventures of the forest, the multiple routes of the toy box, the auto-scrolling nightmare of the chocolate factory, the fully-playable piano of the library, the rotating screws and mechanisms of the clock tower and the darkness-plunging basements of the wicked witch's castle. Sorry, losers! This ain't a hula hoop! No, Castle of Illusion was and is a tricky beast, laced with clever stage design and sparing in its gimmickry. Far beyond the pitiful abilities of my 1950s parents. The ultimate transgression.īut, thankfully, there was always Normal mode. Not only had my parents been playing my game without permission, they had finished it. I came home from school one day a couple of weeks later only to find my parents sitting and watching the ending sequence of Practice mode, having completed the game in my absence.
The stages in Practice mode are about three screens long. The game opens onto a choice between Practice and Normal modes, and I picked Practice, because I was five years old. I played Alex Kidd in Miracle World first, but this was given to me that same Christmas, in its case. This is the first boxed game I ever owned. No, this is more than just some specifications. See more of my work at Ĭastle of Illusion starring Mickey Mouse for the Master System is not a game I can judge with any sort of objectivity, but I'm not sure why you'd want that, anyway.