Castlevania: Circle of the Moon Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 1/8/2024)

[Image from igdb.com]

Castlevania: Circle of the Moon

Developer: Konami

Publisher: Konami

Genre(s): Metroidvania

Platforms: GBA

Release Date: March 21, 2001

My mission regarding my playthrough of Castlevania: Circle of the Moon was to ascertain why this game garners a considerable amount of ire from fans of the franchise. The initial impression I had was that classic Castlevania fans were dogpiling on the game because it solidified the Metroidvania direction that Symphony of the Night established to colossal critical acclaim, leaving the foundation of the traditional 2D platformer that made the series a contender for pixelated greatness condemned indefinitely. Then I had to remind myself that this dissension between the two Castlevania eras is a feud I fabricated in my head, as all fans of the series love Symphony of the Night. My next consideration was that while Circle of the Moon is a successor to Symphony of the Night, it disappointingly did not surpass its Metroidvania mold. However, this was not due to everyone’s high expectations. Circle of the Moon was developed for the Game Boy Advance as a launch title for the last handheld system that branded the Game Boy name. If the Castlevania games on the original Game Boy are any indication, the gothic games sacrificed a heaping load of quality for the sake of mobility, seemingly more so than any NES series that offered a few games on the go. I wondered if a mobile version of Metroidvania Castlevania would suffer due to the downgraded system capabilities and upon playing it, I hit a bullseye as to where the scorn for this game stems from. However, because of my discovery, I do not support the contempt for this game wholeheartedly.

Castlevania’s timeline is as scatterbrained as some of the series over at Nintendo, but I’m at least granting it a smidge of credibility due to Castlevania planting new characters across the century-spanning lore as opposed to the same character in Metroid and a reincarnated form in Zelda. As far as Castlevania is concerned, Circle of the Moon takes place in modern times during the industrial era, almost as close as when Bloodlines set itself in the same century as when it was released (misleading, but technically true). Circle of the Moon’s dashing Van Helsing protagonist is neither a Belmont nor Alucard waking up from yet another one-hundred-year dirt slumber to take down his dear old dad once again. The silver-haired Nathan Graves and his chum Hugh Baldwin are trekking through the cobweb-covered corridors of Dracula’s estate, for Nathan’s guru in the profession of vampire slaying, and Hugh’s father, Morris Baldwin, is about to be sacrificed to the vampiric lord to reinvigorate his foreboding power to its full extent. The duo also have to contend with Dracula zealot Camilla who resurrected the count and is working the operations of his grand return. Unfortunately, after falling for what feels like fathoms below the estate’s entrance, Hugh diverges from Nathan and leaves Mr. Graves on his lonesome to search for their seasoned sensei. Did the previous Castlevania titles introduce the premise with this much character exposition, or is this a new development to signify how the series has progressed? The player gets a better understanding of what is occurring better than scrolling text, that’s for sure. I’d also like to add that there is no cheesy voice acting thanks to the GBA’s relatively primitive nature as a handheld, so everyone can at least approach the text dialogue with a hint of sincerity.

Once Nathan finds himself under the floorboards of Dracula’s foyer, he never really hoists himself back up to the surface to correct his error. Naturally, Circle of the Moon is still a Metroidvania that administers the procedural design philosophy we expect of it. However, the grand breadth of Dracula’s castle that the genre fostered in Symphony of the Night isn’t exuded here. Sure, pressing the designated map button to look at Circle of the Moon’s layout will conjure up comparisons to Symphony, but actually excavating through the interior will convey that our prince of darkness is in another castle. Circle of the Moon’s castle is a dingy depiction of Dracula’s manor, and this isn’t only due to the fact that the GBA couldn’t compete with the pixelated graphical fidelity of the original PlayStation. Every corner of Circle of the Moon’s estate is comparatively minimal to what Symphony offered in terms of its visuals. Backgrounds are no longer detailed with lavish, ornate decorations that exude an aura of opulence. The color gradience of the foregrounds also tends to blend in with that of its immediate surroundings, an aesthetic choice that deviates from what made even the earliest Castlevania games on the NES striking. Circle of the Moon’s presentation is very matter-of-fact, which shrinks the scope of the overall objective. Take a drink every time you come across a new section of the castle that begins with an “underground” descriptor, which should imply that the areas are relatively restrained by their geographical submersion. Even the outdoor sections on the other vertical end of the spectrum are compact as courtyards instead of rooftop attics that span the perimeter of the castle. All in all, the Metroidvania map and the askew linearity that comes with it are not tainted by Circle of the Moon’s direction. Still, it obviously lacks the panache that gave Symphony its allure.

One could argue that a claustrophobic Castlevania map is an attempt to complement the Metroid half of the genre’s portmanteau, emulating the choking tension exuding from Nintendo’s sci-fi series. While this theory is entirely up to speculation, an overt attempt Circle of the Moon takes to recall another game is reverting to its own roots. While Nathan Graves shares no lineage to the iconic Belmont clan, you’d sure as hell be fooled by his moveset. Circle of the Moon reverts to the vampire-slaying weapons found in the classic, traditional 2D platformer Castlevania titles. Nathan cracks his whip with the same pent-up hesitation as Simon and Richter once did, and all of the subweapons such as the holy water, daggers, and axes are accounted for as well. Perhaps Nathan read up on the historical achievements of the Belmont clan and deduced that their arsenal was the most effective roulette of tools to use against the throngs of the uncleansed. His assumptions proved correct, as the sub-weapons tend to dish out a heaping load of damage to the enemies, especially the boomerang crosses. Good thing the hearts have also been reverted to ammunition because the subweapons are lifesavers. Still, I wish Circle of the Moon hadn’t digressed to the stiff controls of the classic Castlevania titles. This isn’t an issue on a fundamental level, but complications arise when Nathan executes any of the special moves that unlock obscured areas of the castle. Trying to run by pressing either directional button twice was especially finicky. Hopping from a wall to a platform above or to the other adjacent surface was always a rigid stunt, and catapulting Nathan about a hectometer straight in the air always had the potential for disaster. When the Metroidvania features complicate the 2D platformer base, the Castlevania stiffness is less forgivable on any console that succeeds the NES.

Of course, the items of old are organized like Symphony’s RPG menu, complimenting the methodical gameplay of the Metroidvania game. Hearts of varying amounts can be replenished from the pickups, and the roasts that heal Nathan have to be selected from this menu whenever Nathan is in a pinch. One new feature that is arguably Circle of the Moon’s main point of innovation that is also organized in this menu is the card system. On rare occurrences when defeating an enemy, they will leave behind a card whose description will be detailed in a subsection of the menu. One row of these cards features Roman Gods/planets of the solar system while the bottom row all have serpents and chimera creatures from ancient mythology. Selecting a combination of one card from both rows will ignite a fusion of special properties that are triggered by the left bumper on the GBA. The combination can either accentuate the whip’s offense or boost Nathan’s defense, which can be applied for seemingly an inexhaustible period. However, the real coup de grace involving the cards is the spells they can create. Similarly to Rondo of Blood, executing the spells with a button combination will unleash a fury of vengeance that eclipses the entire screen and decimates in the vicinity, provided the player has enough magic to execute the maneuver. While the prospect of such devastation is enchanting, only a few of the card combinations will allow the ability to cast a spell, and the button combinations needed to pull them off are just as finicky as the basic controls. Still, it’s a pleasant sight seeing a feature return that has surprisingly only been implemented once across the series thus far, and having it coincide with a whole new system gives the player more incentive to seek out more than the game offers outside of standard progression.

I recommended abusing the power of the cards because if there is one thing that Circle of the Moon borrows from the classic Castlevania games, it's the difficulty. Holy jumping Jesus, is Circle of the Moon a bitch on the ol’ patience threshold. Nathan isn’t epically restrained by his mortal status as a human being instead of an androgynous, quasi-immortal creature from gothic folklore. All the same, I wish that Alucard could intervene and maybe transfer his undead abilities to Nathan via a toothy neck peck so he could evade all of the obstacles surrounding him. It’s not as if the enemies in Circle of the Moon are any less deadly than those in Symphony. The problem stems from the spacious placings of the save rooms, which are few and far between in this castle. Uncovering an uncharted area does not mean that the player will soon mark their discovery with the save function like it did with the abundance of these rooms found in Symphony. The save rooms also tend not to be in a close shot of any of the boss arenas, which are the crux of crushing the player. Cerberus, the very first boss, is erratic and unpredictable, and any contact with the three-headed wolf is imminent considering his gigantic size and ferociousness. Biblical goat demon Adramelech overwhelms the player with poison bubbles that litter the field, and the GBA screen can barely fit both the heads of the colossal Twin Dragons. Both Death and the encounter with narrative-centered Camilla tease the player’s supposed victory with a second phase. It’s so disheartening defeating these monsters with a microscopic sliver of health left only to perish by the slight rubbing of a projectile skeleton bone and reverting back to before the bosses were conquered, something that happened one too many times for comfort. Nathan also isn’t inherently impeded by the whip, but another reason why Symphony was a comparative walk in the park is that Alucard could always swap his blade for a stronger one if the player kept up with finding loot. Because Nathan is restricted to one weapon, his ease with these bosses is contingent on his level, which, of course, unfortunately, involves a grinding session or two to survive.

Because all of the bosses before him made me pant and wheeze like an elderly dog, I was absolutely dreading Dracula’s encounter that I knew would wrap up Circle of the Moon. After literally knocking some sense into Hugh, the key behind him unlocks the sealed door where Nathan falls, in the beginning, to finally face Dracula. What I didn’t expect was that his first phase would be a breeze, almost a complete joke. However, considering this is the first Castlevania game that allows the player to prepare even further, I knew the others would wipe the smug grin off of my face immediately, In a haze of dark surrealism, Dracula sheds his cape and reveals his final form: a bulky purple beast with what resembles the Xenomorphs from Alien as his intimidating flair. His first phase here features flame spread that can be dodged easily, but I’m pretty certain the meteors that rain down from the heavens are totally unavoidable. His second phase pushed my patience to its absolute limit because I could only hit the traveling eyeball core at scant opportunities because of his fucking bat entourage that is always guarding him. Drain that magic meter with spells like with the urgency of someone having a gun pointed at your head. After this grueling fight that took me over ten minutes on my one successful attempt, I’ll be seeing bats attacking me like an alcoholic experiencing symptoms of withdrawal.

I think Circle of the Moon was designed for the classic Castlevania fan who felt forsaken by Symphony of the Night and its radical deviation from the early format in favor of a Metroidvania experience. Konami wasn’t apologizing for launching the series in a new direction, and Circle of the Moon is their attempt to compromise. In execution, however, the reason why Circle of the Moon isn’t a lauded title in the series is that it isn’t all that exceptional on either front. It’s too difficult and less RPG-based for fans of Symphony, and the GBA hardware dilutes the Metroidvania elements that classic Castlevania fans already didn’t care for. However, despite times when I wanted to thrust a cross through my console out of pure frustration, I thoroughly enjoyed my Circle of the Moon experience. My one gripe with Symphony despite it being my favorite game in the franchise is that it was missing some of the attributes that I liked from the typical 2D platformers, and this game translated the weapons from those games fluidly. Hell, maybe I experienced a nostalgic sensation from being constricted to the crooked controls and bludgeoned by the bosses as the classic series once did to me. Mark Circle of the Moon down as an example of an acquired taste in the Castlevania series.