Rondo's Chapel, for just one example, loops you to the right side of the screen when you are traveling left if you go through the exit instead of the chain elevator at the top/end of the stage.
I'm not concerned about sudden flips in perspective, really. You have to set your mind to allow certain abstractions in the way characters in a 2D game traverse their world. I can buy that the direction has remained the same, and just the audience's perspective has changed.
What I really meant was things like Dracula X's final stage, which presents a myriad of illusion-shattering problems in just a few seconds. You start with a view of the castle (in its entirety, mind you), far off in the horizon. That's already weird as hell when the stage is short, and mostly vertical. You shouldn't be able to survey it somewhere else entirely. It worked in CV1 when the castle keep loomed in the background during stage 3: there's still ways to go to the end, so of course it's far off in the distance. It's a wonderful bit of worldbuilding. Dracula X tries something similar and just blows it.
Then you ascend the stairs in front, and in the next screen... you're standing on a flat surface with no stairs in sight. And when you walk off
that screen, behind you is a tall, solid wall. In both instances, Richter has just mysteriously appeared to the next segment of the stage. Things like this are murder to a game's visual narrative, and Dracula X's are pretty arresting to behold. I know Rondo doesn't always have an obvious doorway of arrival visible in its boss rooms, yeah, but it doesn't wreck my brain in the same way because they're a separate entity from the rest of the stage, with full screen blackouts, a brief pause for loading etc. My mind is able to connect the dots. The things that bother me about Dracula X happen in the middle of stages for no concrete reason. It doesn't flow.
And those bland/drab repeating brick backgrounds are terribly uninspired.
I'm aware Rondo doles out its lustrous brickwork in rather generous samplings, but that wasn't all I was talking about. I'm talking about eye-catching, unique details, whether it's accomplished through curious background elements or interacting with the game world, or its inhabitants. You know, level design. Rondo is bursting with creativity from its seams, every new stage bringing something gorgeous, something incidental, something utterly trivial yet incredibly interesting to the mix. This is the team that went on to make Symphony, after all. It's never lacking in the setpieces it whisks the player into. There are burning towns to navigate (enemies blasting through windows = exciting), crumbling aqueducts to cross (day turning to dusk as you do), rapids to ride (still one of the best things the series has done), ghost ships to infiltrate (the layout of which is so good it hurts), etc. There's
so much to do and see.
Dracula X might as well be dead for how soulless it is. The stages each have a (vague) theme -- the castle entrance, the caves, the clock tower and so on -- but this is where the creative process ends. At no point is there something interesting happening with the world at large, something that would differentiate a stage's section from the next. No unique enemies. No areas are simply allowed to
exist and liven up the world - everything is an asset that has to be used for as long as the developers think they can manage it. It never feels like you're making progress in the game. At some point, a stage just ends. Was it really that significant to trek that stretch of land for the umpteenth time? This is the problem with the level design in this game: everything mixes together in your head, and afterwards you have a vague notion of what you just played through, but you sure can't name any singular instances where it captured your imagination. It just doesn't happen.
And as for Medusa heads, when were they not cheaply placed? That's their purpose: To add challenge and strategy to platforming...even at the cost of frustration. I liked that the player could figure out how to counter that.
I don't have a problem with Medusa Heads themselves, it's just how they're used. Dracula X has an overabundance of them, and it's clearly because they are the easiest enemies to include in any given section of a game. You don't need to think about where to place them in the stage, they just do their thing in an unerring stream, unfettered by obstacles in the layout. When a game has this little enemies to work with, it just screams lazy that several segments are taken up by this one thing, for how convenient it is for the designers. I mean more likely than not players are going to have trouble with them, so now they've delivered the challenge quota too. Without an ounce of thought.
If you want a good example in the usage of Medusa Heads, look no further than the last leg of CV1's stage 5. The combination of forward momentum, the Axe Armours' defensive ranged play and the added danger and pressure of the Medusa Heads all culminate in one of the series' very best action setpieces. It's heart-pounding every time.
Also, I enjoyed the fact that the stages didn't end abruptly by and large like in Rondo--like when you find Dogether in the swamp level in Rondo. That made the level almost skip-able. But I digress.
I don't really know what this means. You encounter Dogether in 3' by keenly exploring the environment and then interacting with the world in a meaningful way - allowing you access to a more secret, unique boss fight. It's like a summarization of everything good about the game, this series, hell, even video games altogether. How could anyone hate that?
argleblargle