My thirsty blade burns
Hotter than kitsunebi,
Cooler than square bass.

One of the most telling signs, in my opinion at least, that a game designer is doing something really right is when I can spot his or her fingerprints immediately on a game. Eric Chahi's fingerprints are all over Another World and Heart of Darkness, for example, but one can feel his presence in Flashback's DNA, too, even if it's clear that the game wasn't his own work. Jordan Mechner's cinematic eye is similarly unmistakable, and elements of it can be felt most powerfully on another game from this author...but Larry Stover (aka Blaze Epic) rightly holds his place as a game visionary of his own, and his titles, though influenced by Mechner, have a distinct flavor of their own, and can be recognized by his fingerprints as readily as Chahi's and Mechner's titles can be recognized by theirs.

If Mechner is Cheb Khaled, then Stover is Rachid Taha, a little wilder, a little earthier, a little more raw and visceral, and a little less constrained by form. The ponderousness of the flesh evident in the inertia of Mechner's unnamed Karateka and Prince is remembered but not heeded. Blaze Epic's games feature protagonists that soar, float, defy gravity, and whose true capabilities grow apparent only when you silence the empirical "traffic cop" chasing after them, demanding they stop making a mockery of physics. These games have flow, have a tight, bespoke timing and range of motion that would remind one of a slightly less punishing Ninja Gaiden (the NES version in particular), and a large part of their reward sets in once you enter their "zone," and flow with the almost-flying protagonist. The controls of the game feel strange and alien until you learn to move with them, and then you're Zatoichi for a glorious moment.

Blaze Epic's games share a few common qualities; they're all finesse-driven platformers with a decidedly retro graphics style. (I taste SMS influence in particular, as the Jump/Boxer cover art suggests.) Significant, small differences tune the physics and flow of each title, but there will be much jumping, and the games' magic comes from learning what one can do with jumps. There will be many frustrating deaths. There will be many "missed it by that much" moments. Seeing the next screen is a palpable reward. For all that the simple combat controls seem, at first glance, to be button-spammingly simple, success in the game is much more about finding rhythms than rapidly hammering triggers. The controls are frustratingly literal in the way anyone fond of third-generation consoles will immediately recognize and love-while-hating.

Having set the stage, let me tell you why Shin Samurai Jazz is my favorite of these titles.

The world of Shin Samurai Jazz is a noir pulp novel steeped in Jazz Age chic, with a rather Moby-esque low-key electrojazz soundtrack that anchors one in tones of rainy streets at night, distant music and laughter, secrets and mysteries. The atmosphere drips, and the mixture of goons and yokai encountered, with their markedly different combat styles, keep the fights interesting and particularly varied. Yes, you can try to power through by hammering the attack button, but learning your deceptively varied move set and employing it wisely has proven to be a far more useful strategy, in my experience. Once you really get the hang of dashing back and forth, dropping in and out of stance, and hurling enemies aloft for airborne slicing and dicing while taking advantage of the chuunori-inspired jump-and-dash physics, you'll appreciate just how much variety there can be in a one-attack-button game, and how much of a difference learning your moves makes.

The jump-puzzle elements work much the same way; learning your moveset, and slipping "into the zone" with the game's physics, is instrumental. You'll practice double-jumps, jump-and-dash, wall rebounding, wall climbing and sliding, and folks who just rush in and spam the jump button will find some of the trickier levels quite daunting. Understanding one's range of moves, and their relative advantages, is key. That's true, to a degree, in every game, but Shin Samurai Jazz elevates this to a real brightly-polished art. For all that you have a limited number of buttons and moves to worry about, knowing them, and knowing when and how to use them effectively, plays a large role in the game. So many "retro" action-jump-and-run titles focus so heavily on timing and pixel-perfect placement that they neglect to reward good mastery of one's range of options, and good planning, aside from pitch-perfect execution. Whether Shin Samurai Jazz is maddening or simply satisfyingly tricky is, in my experience at least, more a question of how well you speak its language.

Jumping, wall-rebounding, and clever timing play a role in many Blaze Epic games. If you find you'd like simpler combat and more of those deathtrap jumping levels, the Ninjahtic series will probably make you quite happy, and if you'd like even more of a nod to Mechner, The Way Of The Pixelated Fist is his most recognizable love letter to Karateka and Prince of Persia. Shin Samurai Jazz, however, remains my favorite of the titles, for its compelling atmosphere and flavor, and for its surprisingly versatile and mood-reinforcing moveset.

I enjoyed the NES Ninja Gaiden back in the day, quite a bit. Shin Samurai Jazz brings back much of what I loved about it, while fixing a few of the things I really didn't, like the very trouble-prone wallgrab and climb.

Finally, I don't normally discuss price as a factor, but the dollar-or-two pricing scheme of Blaze Epic's games really bumps them to must-owns, if the retro action-platformer with third-gen-console-style difficulty appeals to you. This one or Ninjahtic would both make excellent introductions to the Blaze Epic game family, and as fond of I am of Ninjahtic, I'd personally give Shin Samurai Jazz a recommendation over it, as I think it expresses not just the game mechanics, but the thematic and atmospheric je-ne-sais-quoi, that makes Blaze Epic titles so lovely.

You make a name for yourself as a creator by sticking your neck out, owning a "flavor" and saying, "This is what I'm about." Blaze Epic's games have quite a recognizable tone and character, and of course, tastes will differ, and this little storm of third-gen-consoles and remixed-Japan will not appeal to everyone. They'll surely appeal to some, though, myself emphatically counted among their numbers, and if you're even remotely curious as to whether they're for you, this is a splendid straight-into-the-deep-end plunge into the heart of Blaze Epic's catalog.

My thirsty blade burns Hotter than kitsunebi, Cooler than square bass. One of the most telling signs, in my opinion at least, that a game designer is doing something really right is when I can spot his or her fingerprints immediately on a game. Eric Chahi's fingerprints are all over Another World and Heart of Darkness, for example, but one can feel his presence in Flashback's DNA, too, even if it's clear that the game wasn't his own work. Jordan Mechner's cinematic eye is similarly unmistakable, and elements of it can be felt most powerfully on another game from this author...but Larry Stover (aka Blaze Epic) rightly holds his place as a game visionary of his own, and his titles, though influenced by Mechner, have a distinct flavor of their own, and can be recognized by his fingerprints as readily as Chahi's and Mechner's titles can be recognized by theirs. If Mechner is Cheb Khaled, then Stover is Rachid Taha, a little wilder, a little earthier, a little more raw and visceral, and a little less constrained by form. The ponderousness of the flesh evident in the inertia of Mechner's unnamed Karateka and Prince is remembered but not heeded. Blaze Epic's games feature protagonists that soar, float, defy gravity, and whose true capabilities grow apparent only when you silence the empirical "traffic cop" chasing after them, demanding they stop making a mockery of physics. These games have flow, have a tight, bespoke timing and range of motion that would remind one of a slightly less punishing Ninja Gaiden (the NES version in particular), and a large part of their reward sets in once you enter their "zone," and flow with the almost-flying protagonist. The controls of the game feel strange and alien until you learn to move with them, and then you're Zatoichi for a glorious moment. Blaze Epic's games share a few common qualities; they're all finesse-driven platformers with a decidedly retro graphics style. (I taste SMS influence in particular, as the Jump/Boxer cover art suggests.) Significant, small differences tune the physics and flow of each title, but there will be much jumping, and the games' magic comes from learning what one can do with jumps. There will be many frustrating deaths. There will be many "missed it by that much" moments. Seeing the next screen is a palpable reward. For all that the simple combat controls seem, at first glance, to be button-spammingly simple, success in the game is much more about finding rhythms than rapidly hammering triggers. The controls are frustratingly literal in the way anyone fond of third-generation consoles will immediately recognize and love-while-hating. Having set the stage, let me tell you why Shin Samurai Jazz is my favorite of these titles. The world of Shin Samurai Jazz is a noir pulp novel steeped in Jazz Age chic, with a rather Moby-esque low-key electrojazz soundtrack that anchors one in tones of rainy streets at night, distant music and laughter, secrets and mysteries. The atmosphere drips, and the mixture of goons and yokai encountered, with their markedly different combat styles, keep the fights interesting and particularly varied. Yes, you can try to power through by hammering the attack button, but learning your deceptively varied move set and employing it wisely has proven to be a far more useful strategy, in my experience. Once you really get the hang of dashing back and forth, dropping in and out of stance, and hurling enemies aloft for airborne slicing and dicing while taking advantage of the chuunori-inspired jump-and-dash physics, you'll appreciate just how much variety there can be in a one-attack-button game, and how much of a difference learning your moves makes. The jump-puzzle elements work much the same way; learning your moveset, and slipping "into the zone" with the game's physics, is instrumental. You'll practice double-jumps, jump-and-dash, wall rebounding, wall climbing and sliding, and folks who just rush in and spam the jump button will find some of the trickier levels quite daunting. Understanding one's range of moves, and their relative advantages, is key. That's true, to a degree, in every game, but Shin Samurai Jazz elevates this to a real brightly-polished art. For all that you have a limited number of buttons and moves to worry about, knowing them, and knowing when and how to use them effectively, plays a large role in the game. So many "retro" action-jump-and-run titles focus so heavily on timing and pixel-perfect placement that they neglect to reward good mastery of one's range of options, and good planning, aside from pitch-perfect execution. Whether Shin Samurai Jazz is maddening or simply satisfyingly tricky is, in my experience at least, more a question of how well you speak its language. Jumping, wall-rebounding, and clever timing play a role in many Blaze Epic games. If you find you'd like simpler combat and more of those deathtrap jumping levels, the Ninjahtic series will probably make you quite happy, and if you'd like even more of a nod to Mechner, The Way Of The Pixelated Fist is his most recognizable love letter to Karateka and Prince of Persia. Shin Samurai Jazz, however, remains my favorite of the titles, for its compelling atmosphere and flavor, and for its surprisingly versatile and mood-reinforcing moveset. I enjoyed the NES Ninja Gaiden back in the day, quite a bit. Shin Samurai Jazz brings back much of what I loved about it, while fixing a few of the things I really didn't, like the very trouble-prone wallgrab and climb. Finally, I don't normally discuss price as a factor, but the dollar-or-two pricing scheme of Blaze Epic's games really bumps them to must-owns, if the retro action-platformer with third-gen-console-style difficulty appeals to you. This one or Ninjahtic would both make excellent introductions to the Blaze Epic game family, and as fond of I am of Ninjahtic, I'd personally give Shin Samurai Jazz a recommendation over it, as I think it expresses not just the game mechanics, but the thematic and atmospheric je-ne-sais-quoi, that makes Blaze Epic titles so lovely. You make a name for yourself as a creator by sticking your neck out, owning a "flavor" and saying, "This is what I'm about." Blaze Epic's games have quite a recognizable tone and character, and of course, tastes will differ, and this little storm of third-gen-consoles and remixed-Japan will not appeal to everyone. They'll surely appeal to some, though, myself emphatically counted among their numbers, and if you're even remotely curious as to whether they're for you, this is a splendid straight-into-the-deep-end plunge into the heart of Blaze Epic's catalog.