(Originally published to Glitchwave on 7/27/2025)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
Ristar
Developer: Sega/Sonic Team
Publisher: Sega
Genre(s): 2D Platformer
Platforms: Genesis/Mega Drive
Release Date: February 16, 1995
I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that Sega had Kirby in mind when designing Ristar. Mostly, it’s the shared stumpy, vaguely orbital physicality between the two that drives this conclusion, as Ristar could also be formed by a simple drawing tutorial with fewer than five steps. Actually, Ristar resembles exactly what Kirby would probably look like if Sega had conjured up Nintendo’s pink extraterrestrial blob. Ristar is a black sphere at his base, but his most striking feature is the golden star with all of his facial features, which is attached to his body sort of inorganically, like a mask. Unlike Kirby, Ristar’s anatomical appendages, like his arms and legs, are far more pronounced. He’s got tennis shoes on one set and cartoon gloves on the other like Sonic, possibly for agile mobility and to make rude gestures or “hip” gang signs, respectively. In a vacuum, Ristar has plenty of charm and appeal to compete in the ranks of platformer mascots congesting the greater gaming landscape of the 1990s. However, the uncanny fusion between two characters that have already been cemented into the gaming canon sort of sullies his overall distinctiveness. Still, the pixelated polish that came with debuting at the end of the Genesis’ console tenure makes Ristar especially winsome with his clear facial expressions.
While vaguely resembling the lovechild of two gaming icons, Ristar’s mechanics aren’t at all reminiscent of either of his lookalikes. For being a curious cosmic creature, Ristar is quite grounded. His gameplay conceit isn’t centered around precariously blazing through levels, nor is it floating endlessly from door to door to his destination. Ristar’s claim to fame (if he had been given his flowers properly in the first place) is his elastic arms, which he uses for a myriad of different situations he might come across. In terms of traversal, Ristar swings from vertical beams like Tarzan swings on vines in the jungle, while also grabbing onto support ledges protruding off the sides of walls from underneath them. Ristar’s climbing aptitude also extends to scaling walls that do not have these ladder step contraptions attached, but executing this move feels like breaking the intended matrix of the game, like Samus’ wall jump in Super Metroid. Oftentimes, a horizontal pole suspended in midair can be swung on in a circular motion, and releasing Ristar from this will catapult him in an erratic trajectory with an invincibility frame attached, like the charge move from fellow squandered Genesis title, Rocket Knight Adventures. Ristar’s grabbing capabilities also factor into the game’s combat, as he’ll wrap an enemy into his ropey arms and send them ricocheting in all directions with an effective kick (I think it’s a kick?). Am I the only one who thinks Ristar’s method of defending himself looks a tad suggestive? Maybe Gropey McGee here didn’t rocket off to gaming stardom because he got too handsy with someone he shouldn’t have and consequently got his career cut prematurely. Anyway, embracing the enemy from a distance to then launch them all around the arena like firing a gun in a rubber room is quite unorthodox. Thankfully, Ristar is slower-paced, so taking the time to aim his arms at an enemy doesn’t conflict with the pace of their opposition. Because the pauses Ristar takes during combat don’t inadvertently harm him, all of his design quirks are quite complementary to the overall gameplay.
Ristar is also an interplanetary traveler like Nintendo’s walking wad of space gum, but the tone veers more towards traditional science fiction instead of wandering around a galaxy composed of planets far too steeped in the realm of fantasy to be feasible. Ristar’s non-food-oriented universe is in crisis due to a nasty imperial warlord named Kaiser Greedy (a bit on the nose, eh?), who is using his supernatural ability of hypnosis to brainwash each planet’s leaders and take control of their sovereign lands. Ristar’s heroic itinerary takes him to six distinct planets that more or less represent the standard level tropes seen across countless platformers before and after it. Planet Flora eases us into the game with an inoffensive grassland level, as a Mario title usually does. Planet Undertow is a self-explanatory water level just by its name alone, and then that second level is followed by Planet Scorch. You’ll never be able to guess which contrasting element to the previous planet that this one prominently exhibits. While my highlighting of the various level themes may suggest that they are rife with cliches, it’s the minor mechanics inside of them that give each level some character. For example, Ristar must time his swimming to the artificial current created by the turbines in Planet Undertow if he doesn’t want to get violently blown into a series of spiny urchins. Planet Scorch features buckets and pulleys that Ristar can reel up to avoid touching the flames on the ground below him, and he must time his jumps accordingly when he skids on the ice ramps of Planet Freon. The most unusual level stipulation is definitely in the music-themed Planet Sonata, where Ristar must carry around what looks like a metronome to satisfy a series of birds that block progression. I’d label it as an escort mission, but I don’t think the classic gaming objective applies to inanimate objects. Still, it’s the thought of changing the course from point A to B with these various eccentricities that spice up the blandness that had become the 2D platformer formula at this point. In saying that, I could’ve done without the memory test that halted me in Planet Scorch.
Given that every Sega Genesis game tended to be as unforgiving as a scorned ex-wife during a divorce hearing, how badly did Ristar beat me into submission like its compatriots? Overall, I found the game to be comparatively merciful, but only in the sense that the judge didn’t send me to the electric chair immediately upon hearing my guilty verdict. In this context, Ristar subscribes to the typical Genesis notion that passwords are a more suitable way to log progress than manual saves and that the player should be sent back to square one if they prove themselves to be unskilled. However, Ristar does at least give the player the chance to continue from the start of the level if they exhaust their lives, and offers enough accommodations to prevent such an unfortunate occurrence from happening immediately. Ristar will often find stars in chests that fill his health meter, and even the upgraded one that fills the maximum of four isn’t as rare as a four-leaf clover. Extra life pick-ups aren’t especially scant, and enemy activity never becomes overwhelming. It has some antiquated ideals that make it a product of its time, but Ristar’s strive for accessibility, done without breaking some sort of Sega code of punishment ethics, is enough to get into my good graces.
I’m especially thankful that Ristar was relatively charitable with its healing trinkets because the bosses were the ones walloping me the hardest. Essentially, the trick to defeating each of Ristar’s executives is to find a window to grab it and hit him where his biscuits are baked. However, because each boss is built differently physically, they might not easily offer that moment of vulnerability. The armadillo of Planet Scorch protects itself with its solid exterior while digging up dirt to hit Ristar with, the hammerhead shark of Planet Undertow is quite sprightly in the water, and trying to cram the spicy dish into the mouth of the boss in Planet Freon was as frustrating as trying to force-feed a fussy toddler. Still, despite how each boss was uniquely vexing in their own ways, none of them compares to the nightmare encounter with Greedy at the game’s climax. Learning a pattern while he’s bombarding Ristar with those blue bots is viable. However, the conditions of his second phase, such as being pelted from above when Ristar has to grip onto an object to avoid being sucked into his black hole attack or dodging his lightning strike, seem to be purely dependent on luck. The developers should’ve changed this intergalactic asshole’s name to “Wrathful” with the barrage of pain he inflicts onto the player in the game’s final moments.
After the galaxy had been saved, I couldn't really make heads or tails of Ristar. It’s an odd duck on the Sega Genesis, a game that I can’t decide if its reworking of the traditional platformer tropes is refreshing or if they’re too offbeat to resonate with me. They work well enough to craft a competent product that’s certainly engaging, but I can’t say I’m surprised that Ristar-mania never caught on or that it didn’t receive a 3D sequel on the subsequent Sega systems. Going back to the foster home analogy, Ristar was evidently the quirky kid who carried around a portable vinyl player that played Neutral Milk Hotel, or something. I admire its zany spirit, but is it enough to distract everyone from Sonic’s roaring blast processing? I suppose not.
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