Banjo-Tooie Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 7/31/2023)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Banjo-Tooie

Developer: Rare

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): 3D Platformer

Platforms: N64

Release Date: November 19, 2000

Banjo-Tooie is a perfect sequel to the innovative, influential 3D platformer Banjo-Kazooie…in theory. On paper, Banjo-Tooie completes more than the necessary criteria for an exemplary sequel. The factors I’ve always attributed to when it comes to crafting a substantial followup to a celebrated title is expanding upon its world and characters along with using the element of hindsight to oil the hinges that perhaps started squeaking once the game was released, much to the embarrassment of the developers. If you’ll notice the cheeky instance of play-on-words in the title, Banjo-Tooie is a game that revels in its inherent role as a sequel. The game was always in a comfortable position, after all, succeeding its predecessor after only two years and on the same, familiar hardware. Banjo-Kazooie constructed the concrete architecture of the Banjo mansion, and all Banjo-Tooie was tasked with was sprucing up the glorious estate with some voguish furniture or state-of-the-art HDTV complete with surround sound speakers. The question still remains: does Rare’s magnum opus really need these additional luxuries? Banjo-Kazooie made such a monumental splash for the prevailing 3D platformer trend that it stole the proverbial torch away from Mario to guide every subsequent release in the genre with its light. Any game that usurps the throne from Nintendo’s golden boy ain't no slouch, so one can infer the extent of Banjo-Kazooie’s quality merely through this fact alone. Because of Banjo-Kazooie’s high mark of 3D platforming excellence, Banjo-Tooie is another example of a sequel needing to prove the rationale of its existence. In some aspects, Banjo-Tooie knew which of Banjo-Kazooie’s loose bolts to tighten up, but there are some screws that it never should’ve tinkered with.

Even though Banjo-Tooie is screaming its sequel status from the stormy peak of Gruntilda’s Lair, it’ll be damned to be content with being eclipsed in the shadow of Banjo-Kazooie’s glory. Since Gruntilda fell from her tower upon her defeat and was entombed under the crushing weight of a massive boulder, the moral characters from the first game can now relax and play a rousing game of poker at Banjo’s house. During their relatively carefree evening of playing cards, Gruntilda’s two equally unsightly sisters of contrasting body proportions align with her old scientific servant Klungo to tunnel to Gruntilda’s resting place with a military-grade drill. Somehow, Gruntilda defies the laws of biology and still remains alive and well despite her stationary status beneath the earth for who knows how long. The glaring effect being buried has had on Gruntilda is the total removal of her sickly-green skin, reducing her to a skeleton with the same witch garb and squawking voice (personally, I think the new look is an improvement). Before Gruntilda begins her major quest to procure a new epidermis, she can’t help but act on a petty impulse to blast Banjo’s house with a comically-enhanced laser cannon. Bottles the mole is the sole victim of Gruntilda’s vengeance, leaving his wispy soul to roam around Banjo’s front yard until the end of times. That’s right: the game begins with Bottles fucking dying. As the unceremonious onslaught signals a new adventure, the events of the previous night leave the old stomping grounds of Spiral Mountain in ruin, with the overhead entrance of Gruntilda’s lair blocked off by the wreckage. The first cutscene and its aftermath convey a message that the comfort of nostalgia that comes with a sequel has been blown to smithereens, even if the game is still strictly confined to familiarity as a direct sequel developed on the same console.

That cynical attitude seems to persist throughout Banjo-Tooie. Banjo-Tooie behaves the same way as a displeased, ill-natured child does being dragged along on a chore by a parent, committing minor acts of obnoxious debauchery to both alleviate their boredom and spite their parental figure. Banjo-Tooie does its damndest to dump on its predecessor at every waking moment possible. Namely, corrupting Banjo-Kazooie’s guileless presentation and tone as fervently as it can while admittedly being tethered down by the same aesthetic. More cases of murder pop up after Bottles is dispatched among the various NPCs, and the fact that Tooty is missing once again (with a credible search ad on a milk carton to boot) but no one seems to care disturbs me a smidge. Really, the trick that Banjo-Tooie pulls out of its hat in an attempt to ruin its predecessor’s legacy is constantly breaking the fourth wall. Seemingly every line of dialogue references Banjo-Kazooie in some capacity, noting some familiar characters, events, and other nostalgic nuggets to further hammer in its sequel status. The emotional impact of Bottles being fried to a crisp is tainted by Kazooie’s offhand comment that “he wasn’t the most popular character in the last game.” In fact, the snarky bird spits so much verbal venom at the NPCs in Banjo-Tooie that I’m almost offended on their behalf. On top of referencing the previous title, the game features posters with characters from Jet Force Gemini and a jiggie quest involving unfreezing a Rare relic named Sabreman. The second title is too soon to start being meta, guys! The game gives off the impression that a sequel to Banjo-Kazooie was greenlit, but Rare shared the same weary sentiment about sequels that I tend to express. I’m not sure if this flippant direction is an attempt to sabotage the player’s immersion or if Rare genuinely thought it made the game more discernible from Banjo-Kazooie. Still, it indicates that something was stirring at the Rare offices during this game’s development.

However, just because Banjo-Tooie makes a fuss out of having to exist, it doesn’t mean that the game didn’t ultimately make an effort. As I stated before, the quality of life enhancements that usually come with a sequel is certainly apparent. For example, I wasn’t entirely satisfied with Banjo’s combat moves. Here, Banjo’s roll maneuver to mow down enemies is far less stilted, as he can now shift the direction slightly. When in an idle position, Banjo has thankfully stopped trying to attack with his pitiful arm slaps and the game leaves the short-range offense entirely to Kazooie. One glaring issue found in Banjo-Kazooie that encompassed most players' gripes and grievances was the traversal of the hub world. Having to make the trek all the way up Gruntilda’s Lair in the later portions of the game from its entrance at the bottom was a tedious excursion unfitting for the accessible feeling of a hub world, and the teleportation cauldrons were too sparsely placed to amend this issue. Banjo-Tooie’s hub and its levels are divided into distinct districts that all come with a teleportation mechanism. Simply place Banjo into the dome fit for a mole and a menu will appear to select where to arrive at, provided Banjo has already visited that area already. The levels also feature something similar in the vein of a warp pad which transports Banjo across the map, but I’ll touch on that in further detail later on. The developers have corrected every last one of Banjo-Kazooie's minor sniggles and while the amount of these is marginal, at least the developers paid attention and acted accordingly for the little effort required.

Isle O’ Hags is the name of the new nucleus between all of Banjo-Tooie’s levels. Technically, it encompasses the entire eclectic island nation that Banjo, his friends, and the Gruntilda sisters who are apparently a native species. Every area from Banjo-Kazooie also shares the same dominion but for now, let’s focus on the district revealed behind the dirt wall of Spiral Mountain. Isle O’ Hags essentially copies the same design philosophy as Gruntilda’s Lair; a steep ascent where the peak of the climb is the climactic point of the game, with frequent inhibitors in the shape of arbitrarily-assigned jiggy quantities to implore the player to visit the levels and to stretch out the pacing to elevate the scope of the journey. While both hubs share the same overall design and collectathon direction, they differ in the atmosphere. Ironically, for a place named after the pejorative term for Gruntilda, the looming presence of Gruntilda and her sisters is practically absent, never throwing her voice from her chamber to cackle discouraging limericks in Banjo’s ears. That, and the oppressiveness that Gruntilda’s Lair exuded was contributed by the enclosed cavern setting, something that winding seaside cliffs of the isle certainly don’t. Still, I actually prefer Isle O’ Hags as a hub world, and not only because the fast travel domes make climbing it much breezier. The developers have also streamlined the level-unlocking process. Once Banjo collects a certain amount of jiggies, he’ll revisit a jiggy spiritual temple near the base of the hub where solving a jigsaw puzzle will reward him with the monk-like Master Jiggywiggy beaming a ray of light that rivals Gruntilda’s laser beam to the unlocked area. I thought exploring to look for the painting with the missing jigsaw pieces made for an unnecessary additional venture, so I’m content with returning to the same sacred jiggy domain once in a while to further the game.

Banjo-Tooie’s branching areas were an especially exciting prospect because the previous game exhausted all of the typical level tropes seen across 3D platformers of the same ilk. This doesn’t inherently mean that the developers have hit a wall with nowhere to run; rather, scratching off all the boxes on the 3D platformer cheat sheet forces the developers to amplify their creative juices. Overall, the level tropes on display in Banjo-Tooie are a little less conventional. Mayahem Temple’s core inspiration stems from the ancient civilizations from Central America, while the humid, terraform dinosaur biome Terrydactyland takes Banjo further back in time far before the dawn of human civilization. Jolly Roger’s Lagoon separates the sea creatures from the land lubbers when Banjo dives into the basin of the port town and discovers an immaculate underwater world beneath the surface. Hailfire Peaks presents the most classic of contrasts with a fire and ice world coexisting on opposite sides of one another. Glitter Gulch Mine reminds me of one of those hokey prospector attractions where families get their pictures taken at, complete with a train station and shiny piles of counterfeit gold. Speaking of attractions, my favorite area in Banjo-Tooie from a conceptual standpoint is the amusement park of Witchyworld run by Gruntilda, a despondent carnival that makes every Six Flags location look safe and professional by comparison. In fact, the churlish atmosphere found in Witchyworld sort of extends to every other level to some extent as well. None of these levels capture that cheery, captivating vibe that oozed from levels like Freezeezy Peak or Click Clock Wood and instead borrow the same filthy dirge found in an area like Clanker's Cavern. Grunty Industries certainly exemplifies a glum, morale-free factory and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Hailfire was a censored misprint of the damned afterlife of a certain religious denomination because of all of its scorching fire and brimstone. Still, the variety on display rivals the level selection of the previous game marvelously.

In lieu of Bottles pushing up daisies, who will teach Banjo and the bird new techniques to survive these harsher worlds? Bottles' brother, the army drill sergeant Jamjars, will pop out of his various underground hatches to whip Banjo and Kazooie into shape, promising them that they’ll learn some military-grade shit after Bottles simply taught them the basics. He doesn’t teach Banjo how to sneak up behind a man and snap his neck like Solid Snake, but I’m sure some of these moves are still illegal in at least seven different countries. The developers found a better use of the golden musical notes in Banjo-Tooie as they can be used as an accumulated currency to unlock a new move from Jamjars. Some of these new feats of dexterity come in the form of quality-of-life enhancements, with ledge grabbing and the Breegull Blast seeming like necessary afterthoughts after the first game was released. Kazooie gains a smattering of other egg types alongside the standard ones, including fire, ice, grenades, and birthing a walking cuckoo bomb with a timed or manual detonator. The Beak Bomb is now enhanced with the Bill Drill to crack open large boulders and unscrew bolts. Temporary power-ups that involve the Talon Trot add some moon shoes to bounce high and shoes that can climb up inclines with footprints on them. The most interesting of these new moves are the ones the pair learn for their individual merit. “Split pads” with both characters' faces on them separate both of them until they regroup on the same spot, proving that Kazooie isn’t fused to Banjo like an abominable conjoined twin. Banjo’s individual moves involve his backpack in some capacity, whether it be hopping inside it to mitigate damage or carrying someone else in it for a change like a taxi service. Kazooie mostly performs enhanced versions of her innate abilities without Banjo’s weight to contend with, on top of hatching other creatures' eggs for them. Banjo-Tooie doubles the number of learnable techniques while keeping the old ones intact, and playing as the dynamic duo separately doesn’t feel too much like a handicap.

Beloved character Mumbo Jumbo was present at the card game and did not perish at the scaly hand of Grundtilda, so he doesn’t have an excuse to sit this adventure out like Bottles. Fortunately, Banjo-Tooie had big plans for the pygmy shaman. Visiting Mumbo in his now two-story skull house with the new and easily obtained Glowbo collectible will grant the player the ability to play as Mumbo on the field. His range of movement is fairly limited, and the taser staff he brings to defend himself is more humorous to use than practical. Bringing Mumbo to pads with his face on them triggers him to use supernatural magic to levitate colossally-sized objects, perform a rain dance to create a rainbow bridge, resurrect the dead, etc. A new magical companion Banjo-Tooie introduces is the beautiful native girl Wumba, whose character is probably a more overtly racist depiction than Mumbo. She fulfills the transformation mechanic introduced in Banjo Kazooie, changing Banjo’s shape into an animal or object when he enters her wigwam and takes a dip in the pink, Glowbo-powered pool in its center. Some of the new transformations include a dynamite plunger, a submarine, and even a full-sized fucking T-Rex that bulldozes all in its path. Even the washing machine easter egg from the last game actually becomes a useful mechanic in Grunty Industries. As much as playing as Mumbo and the returning transformations serve as nice additional layers to the gameplay, what interests me more is the strained relationship between Mumbo and Wumba. Considering their feuding attitudes toward each other, these two obviously have some intimate history together, right?

Judging by all of Banjo-Tooie’s exciting new features that are all fun and fluid, it would seem like it’s a sequel that renders Banjo-Kazooie obsolete. However, the way in which Banjo-Tooie utilizes all of these new features in the quasi-open world environment is the source of its downfall. If Banjo-Kazooie's single-world summation of its design is conspicuous, then Banjo-Tooie’s is circuitous. In Banjo-Tooie, exploration is still required to progress the game, but it is rarely rewarded. Oftentimes, excavating the area and finding a jiggy comes with several unnecessary extra steps. As much as I enjoy the lark of being able to play as Mumbo, retrieving him from his perch just to trigger a cutscene in a specific place and then trailing back to his skull house grated on my nerves one too many times. Grunty Industries, the area that exemplifies the worst of Banjo-Tooie’s bloated design, is a languid climb up the five floors of the industrial cesspit with finding the stairs for each following floor as the central progression gimmick. At the apex point of the factory lies a jiggy on a wooden crate, which should’ve been the reward for making it this far. However, this point is still littered with unnecessary obstacles to pad out the levels. Banjo-Kazooie was consistently more engaging because the quicker satisfaction of simply finding a jiggy tickled the player’s sense of accomplishment more frequently. It can take longer to find half of the jiggies in Banjo-Tooie than all of them in any of the Banjo-Kazooie areas. It seems like the new features like the split pads and the alternate characters only enable this circuity even more, as they are often implemented as the extra and not-so-obvious steps to obtaining a jiggy. This level of augmented length also extends to the other collectibles, as the jingos in plain sight will most likely be their evil, bizarro counterparts the minjos who will dupe Banjo and harm him. Most of the jiggies in the game feel as if they’re annoyingly out of reach as if the game is dangling them over the player as a cruel tease. Coupling this with the swollen breadth of each area, I thank the lord for the warp pads because, without them, I’d go as far as to say the game would be unplayable.

Another factor of Banjo-Tooie’s bloatedness is due to the developers attempting to intertwine each area and craft an interconnected world. Considering the game is modeled the same as the sectioned-off playgrounds in the first game, it’s no surprise its execution didn’t work. The adjacent paths between areas require a heavy suspension of disbelief and only seem to be applicable in select situations to make collecting a jiggy more drudgery than anything like delivering food from Witchyland to the struggling cavemen in Terrydactyland. Chuffy, the train that should ideally facilitate the rationale for an interconnected world, only rolls through six of the nine areas. If that doesn’t indicate that the idea was unfeasible, I don’t know what does. What irritates me the most about their decision is that it is the biggest contributor to the fleeting jiggy hunt quandary in Banjo-Tooie as most of the jiggies can’t be obtained until Banjo or Kazooie requires a move at a later level. Approximately half of a level’s jiggies will be kept out of reach initially and in a game with levels that are supposed to foster exploration, being limited to only a few jiggies needed to progress the game is a big kick in the balls from developers. One might raise an eyebrow at my criticism of this direction considering it mirrors the design philosophy of the Metroidvania genre, one of my niche video game favorites that I constantly tout. For one, Metroidvania worlds never have slapdashed interconnectivity when its world doesn’t warrant it. Secondly, finding an upgrade in a Metroidvania game will always put the player on a direct path and make the once-inhibited passage a cakewalk to traverse, something Banjo-Tooie still goes out of its way to reject even when the move and or upgrade is learned.

It seems like most of the jiggies not obstructed by the developer's ill-planned directives come in the form of minigames. As pleased as I was to stumble upon these to finally earn a jiggy in a somewhat fair and natural way, it’s a shame that many of them boiled down to the same task of shooting or collecting objects of three different colors with different point totals. I’ll be seeing objects of red, green, and blue hopping around in my sleep at this point. I greatly missed the variety from Banjo-Kazooie, even if those minigames were easier than grade school arithmetic. While it does seem like I’m complaining, I’ll easily engage with these minigames as opposed to the other option. In a select few areas, entering certain sections will make Banjo cock Kazooie like a gun and the perspective will shift to the first-person view. As amused as I initially was to witness “Banjo-KaDOOMie,” these minigames were more hellish than anything from the pioneering FPS franchise. Kazooie’s targeting is as responsive as a lazy eye and trying to skewer enemies with her beak like a bayonet made me feel like a drunk civil war reenactor.

The jiggy tasks I did enjoy and sought out over the rest were the boss battles. They were few and far between in Banjo-Kazooie, and I’d be lying if I said that the wooden box or Nipper the hermit crab were herculean foes that were hard to conquer. Each level in Banjo-Tooie features a mighty foe worthy of the boss battle title, and they are a varied and challenging bunch. The fights between the twin dragons of the opposite representative of Hailfire Peaks were in some pretty taut arenas, and Weldar featured enough simultaneous offensive tactics to overwhelm me. Popping the monstrous boils off of the angler fish Fak Fak and the stitched patches of the giant inflatable beast in the circus tent by soaring and swimming over them made the bosses seem formidable, and the Targitzan duel managed to make that particular FPS section palatable. Klungo even cements his role as a recurring supporting character through frequent encounters. To my surprise, I ended up enjoying the final boss fight against Gruntilda and her drill tank more than her final fight from the first game because of how involved it is. Those final increments of her health bar had me sweating bullets. Or, perhaps I enjoy it because the developers made the bizarrely-implemented quiz show portion of the finale tolerable this time around, and it's hilariously morbid to boot.

Banjo-Tooie isn’t quite an example of a sophomore slump. However, the game seems to have tacked on a sophomore seventeen pounds due to the developers having ambitions bigger than their stomachs, and it’s enough weight to make the game feel comparatively fatigued and sluggish throughout. Either this was a faulty wish, or Rare took the piss out of the natural evolution of the franchise and this is their idea of a joke, judging from the game’s more negative tone. Behind all that excess fat, Banjo-Tooie feels like the same game as its trend-setting predecessor, and it even makes the Banjo experience more inviting because of the effort of the minor improvements. Banjo-Tooie made me exhausted at simply performing the bare minimum to complete the game, which is certainly not a feeling I got after finishing Banjo-Kazooie.

Banjo-Kazooie Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 6/26/2023)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Banjo-Kazooie

Developer: Rare

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): 3D Platformer

Platforms: N64

Release Date: June 29, 1998

As impactful as Super Mario 64 was to the then-prevalent 3D platformer genre, I’m not sure the game can take all of the credit for being the genre’s sole primary influence. I always bestow the plumber’s landmark 3D debut with a considerable amount of veneration, for Nintendo’s efforts in remodeling Mario for the cutting-edge next polygonal phase of gaming created an entirely original experience that set the stage for a radical new realm of possibilities. While Super Mario 64 was the game that pioneered the non-linear, explorative “collectathon” 3D platformer subgenre, its indelible mark on the era obviously echoed to several other games of the same ilk to follow its example. Being the building blocks of a genre sort of connotes that your disciples expand upon your foundation instead of contently resting at ground zero. Also, Super Mario 64 set an unintentional implication in that the pervasive platformer genre could only survive in the third dimension with this direction. Mario, the de facto king of the genre, seemingly had to forgo his standard, linear roots so drastically in Super Mario 64, so this meant that all other platformer icons new and old had to assimilate to the change or perish. With both its rudimentary footing and massive impact in consideration, one of Super Mario 64’s many offsprings had to have the potential to outclass its progenitor. The game that would truly innovate on what Super Mario 64 established was a new IP from the British then-Nintendo subsidiary developer Rare in the form of Banjo Kazooie. One of the reasons I revere Super Mario 64 despite its vestigial framework is because it's the godfather of every game that I grew up with in the subsequent generation. However, while this is still true, it seems like Banjo-Kazooie has a more clear and more direct line with my cherished video games from childhood on the 3D platformer family tree. Also, my praise for Banjo-Kazooie ascends past the reasonable level of respect I give to its fellow N64 linchpin Super Mario 64, for Banjo-Kazooie is still a solid rock of a 3D platformer whose quality has not been weathered by time.

It’s amusing to see how a British developer attempts to encapsulate the magic of Mario, and I’m not only referring to the mechanics of the “collectathon” subgenre. Mario’s peerless high ranking in the echelons of gaming can be attested to his wide accessibility in his presentation. Mario captures that spectacle of Japanese whimsy that is neither too immature nor off-puttingly bizarre, sort of in the same vein as the successful fellow Japanese animation corporation Studio Ghibli. The tasteful balance on display is probably indicative of a country that has both a storied mythical lore and an inordinate amount of nuclear radiation exposure than the rest of the world. The Western world might be beguiled by Mario’s foreign charm, but can they tangibly translate their wonder into something original? Banjo-Kazooie’s Western interpretation of Mario’s aesthetic is to emphasize the wacky animated aspects of the plumber’s world. I guess our Western equivalent to Mario’s mirthfulness is our cartoons. Banjo-Kazooie’s presentation is not overtly British like one of Terry Gilliam’s illustrations from a Monty Python skit (though that would be super cool). Rather, Banjo Kazooie conveys that animation drawn for a broad demographic west of the prime meridian tends to feature exaggerated physical proportions and anthropomorphic animals as central characters. Banjo-Kazooie is brimming with archetypal Western cartoon attributes, given that the game’s protagonist is a bipedal bear and every enemy, from the hopping vegetables to the tombstones, all have a pair of goofy-looking googly eyes to signify their sentience. Because of how cartoonish the aesthetic is, Banjo-Kazooie resembles a product catered towards a younger audience. Unfortunately, it’s not as accessible as Mario's because the overall tone might come across as too juvenile for some adolescent/adult gamers. The hints of toilet humor also probably do not help its case. Still, the appeal of Banjo Kazooie is apparent due to how dynamically lighthearted everything is, like an old Mickey Mouse cartoon. Doubling down on the innocuous elements from accessible forms of Western media is probably the most inspired decision from the developers regarding the game’s presentation.

One of the pervasive childlike elements of Banjo-Kazooie is its fairy tale plot premise, a staple of mythology. Gruntilda, a prototypical depiction of a nasty, evil witch from the most famous of Grimm’s classic stories, is performing the usual duties of this age-old archetype of toiling and troubling over her bubbling cauldron. The clairvoyant wisdom she seeks from her boiling pot is whether or not she’s the “nicest looking wench” in the land, and is offended at the cauldron’s candid response telling her that she isn’t. Why someone who revels in being obstinately filthy and grotesque like a kid-friendly version of Divine would care if she satisfies traditional beauty standards is beyond me, but I digress. The “fairest maiden” to be found is Tooty, a young female bear with blonde pigtails who conveniently lives in a comfy little home situated down the hill from Grundtilda’s domain. I guess the radius of beauty the cauldron can assess is confined by the same zip code. Gruntilda’s solution to being outshined by some neighborhood child is to abduct her and initiate a procedure where their matter will be swapped, as Gruntilda will receive all of Tooty’s beautiful attributes while Tooty becomes as beastly as Gruntilda. Tooty is also Banjo’s younger sister, so he’s naturally inclined to stop this horrendous experiment before his sister is doomed to look like a green warthog. Not only do fairy tales often present a heinous witch complete with a tall black hat and a broomstick as a common antagonist, but the old versus young parallel between women is a prevalent theme across some notable examples (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty). Banjo-Kazooie prevents itself from the puerile trappings of its fairy tale influences by subverting this plot premise with slight parody, like Shrek would succeed in doing a few years later. Pop culture references to both Frankenstein and The Fly are clearly seen in the game’s “game over” sequence where her hunchback lab assistant Klungo throws the switch to energize two opposite matter machines with Tooty and Gruntilda enclosed. While Banjo Kazooie still exudes a childish aura, tongue-in-cheek jabs at fairy tale tropes keep it from feeling infantile.

Banjo the character actually debuted in Diddy Kong Racing the year prior in Rare’s lineup of original cute and cuddly playable characters that meshed well alongside Nintendo’s petite, baseball cap-wearing chimp (if only Conker’s inclusion here hasn’t aged like sour milk). Out of all of these characters to greenlight into a new IP, why choose Banjo over say, Bumper the Badger or Tipsy the Mouse? Timber the Tiger arguably even had more mascot potential, as his baseball cap with the Rare insignia mirrored Diddy’s Nintendo cap. Is it due to his relatively higher strength build, or does the necklace, pants, and backpack combination make him more visually enticing than the other character with one distinctive feature? Truth be told, I’m not all too certain why Banjo ascended past a two-bit supporting role among the Diddy Kong Racing roster while all the others (except for Conker) continued to wallow in obscurity. This is especially curious considering Kazooie does most of the legwork (almost literally). The second half of the game’s hyphenated title did not exist during Banjo’s humble beginnings as a cart driver, as she was introduced by Rare to accompany Banjo on his debut platforming adventure. The brightly-colored bird of unknown species resides in Banjo’s backpack as stationary as if she’s on house arrest, and Banjo better hope she’s actually fused to his blue accessory because he’d be hopeless without her.

Banjo and Kazooie have an interesting character dynamic in that the mechanics of both characters are consistently utilized in tandem with one another, used by a single player. Banjo is obviously the primary kinetic force in their partnership as he lugs Kazooie in his backpack. His primary role as the leg muscle also extends to his arms as the game’s basic combat, as the bear will knock enemies around with a barrage of left and right hooks and roll into enemies with the force of his entire body while moving. Disappointingly enough, punches from a bear aren’t as furious and deadly as one would expect because Banjo’s arms seem as short as a T-Rex’s. The rolling move feels more fluid and ensures a more accurate hit, but its trajectory is still rather stilted. Kazooie’s pecking move when Banjo jumps in the air compensates for the bear’s pitiful range, and the direction can be changed in a few seconds when both are in mid-air. Kazooie must have some penguin DNA in her genetic mix because her wings wade beneath the water while Banjo just doggy paddles on the surface. Actually, Kazooie’s swimming indicates that she’s not an aquatic bird because the underwater controls are appallingly rigid. Yet, Kazooie’s willingness to carry Banjo through the adventure forces her to perform tasks outside of her comfort zone. Banjo’s bespectacled mole friend Bottles pops out of his arrangement of molehills to teach Kazooie certain skills to really overload Kazooie’s workload. On the offensive side, Kazooie will tug on Banjo’s backpack to execute a body slam similar to Mario’s ass stomp to press buttons and such. A specific combination of the crouch move will trigger a number of Kazooie’s special techniques, namely Kazooie spurting out baby blue eggs out of her mouth and cloaca (ew) as projectile attacks. The “Talon Trot” sees Kazooie shifting the mobile roles as she carries Banjo on her back instead. With the stronger adhesive strength of her talons sticking to steep, angled inclines, increased running speed, and limitless usage, it seems like Banjo could simply lie on his lazy ass the whole time doing nothing. Two different types of pads will appear to launch Banjo upward, with the green pads giving his jump an exorbitant boost and the red pads as a launch point for Kazooie to soar through the skies until the red feather ammunition is fully depleted. Must I further highlight why Kazooie probably should’ve gotten first billing in the game’s title?

Banjo and Kazooie’s simultaneous dynamic isn’t only limited to how they interact on the field. For a video game genre that usually doesn’t offer much dialogue or characterization, both Banjo and Kazooie are quite loquacious, along with the rest of their world. The dialogue in Banjo Kazooie is displayed with scrolling text in a speech bubble with a character icon on the far side. Speech is not enunciated by any characters: rather; vocal inflections are expressed through warbles that have a distinctive cadence per character. If you come across any lighthearted game with cartoony graphics that has this type of gibberish voice-acting style, Banjo-Kazooie is the game that popularized it (but don’t quote me on that). When interacting with NPCs, Banjo and Kazooie act as character foils. Banjo is a well-meaning dope that approaches people and situations very matter-of-factly, while Kazooie is shockingly caustic. Another reason why Banjo better pray that Kazooie is stuck to the inside of his backpack with superglue is that the bird has an acid tongue; a biting insult for every NPC she comes across, and one NPC might lash out by taking her by her bird neck and throttle her. Nevertheless, Banjo’s good cop, bad cop routine with his backpack bird gives them a wonderful personal chemistry. Some notable NPCs that Kazooie often gives a harsh tongue-lashing to are the aforementioned Bottles, Banjo’s mild-mannered mole friend who somehow knows more about Kazooie’s physical dexterity than she does. Mumbo Jumbo is a slightly racist depiction of an African witch doctor who owns a few small hut properties across many of the game’s levels that resemble his golden skull mask. Other miscellaneous NPCs that Banjo isn’t as chummy with are the hapless camel Gobi, the covetous Conga the Ape, and the blubbering hippo commander of the “Salty Hippo” sea ship aptly named Captain Blubber, to name a few. Compared to the litany of cookie-cutter Toads that Mario speaks to in Super Mario 64, Banjo-Kazooie’s cast of secondary characters is amazingly eclectic.

Banjo-Kazooie isn’t a lengthy 3D platformer that swells the number of collectibles to prolong the experience. In fact, the total number of levels the game offers is significantly less than that of Super Mario 64. Though Banjo-Kazooie’s content lacks the quantity present in its influence, the game more than compensates with the quality of the levels. What impresses me about Banjo-Kazooie’s environments is their sheer immensity. As twee and jovial as Banjo’s world seems from an aesthetic standpoint, something about the way the game displays it exudes a crushing feeling. Immediately, this foreboding aura seems prevalent in Banjo’s hub. After the tutorial section of the grassy Spiral Mountain in Banjo’s backyard, the duration of the game is centered around the confines of Gruntilda’s Lair. The interior of Grundtilda’s wicked visage molded from the rocky cliffs of Spiral Mountain is as voluminous as the recesses of a dank underground cavern. Rescuing Tooty is a steep vertical climb up to the lair’s apex where the experiment is being conducted, and Banjo must progressively piece together every floor of Gruntilda’s Lair on his upward journey (literally). Gruntilda’s Lair is the antithesis of what I’ve always claimed to be an effective hub world, which is a modest place of respite between all of the levels where the call to action is heightened. Gruntilda’s Lair acting as the game’s centerpiece is almost like cutting out the middleman of the Peach’s Castle hub in Super Mario 64 and storming Bowser’s Castle immediately in the most glacial rescue operation ever executed. Gruntilda’s goons roam around on every floor and the witch’s omniscient presence is always felt, and that’s only partly due to her taunting Banjo and his bird with her AB rhyme schemes over some sort of intercom system. However, I’m willing to give Gruntilda’s Lair a pass as the enemy encounters are very slight and the enclosure of the spacious walls feels as tight as Fort Knox while inside them. The oppressive aura mood doesn’t stem from a notion of danger, but how small and insignificant Banjo looks juxtaposed with the massive walls surrounding him. Also, I must commend Gruntilda’s Lair for taking the hub format of Super Mario 64 and streamlining the non-linear hub to a constant vertical incline because progression feels more satisfying. I just wish Banjo wasn’t forced to start from square one every time the player exits the game, with the few teleportation cauldrons withstanding.

As to be expected, Banjo-Kazooie’s levels that protrude from the hub are a varied bunch that curates a wide selection of typical platformer level motifs. Every base is fully covered, ranging from a beach level, snow level, spooky level, etc. However, I did state before that Banjo-Kazooie’s levels were richer in substance despite the marginal number of them, and also that they follow suit on the hub’s expansiveness. Despite the seemingly standard levels, the developers have added some deeper thematic flair that transcends their base motif. For example, Treasure Trove Cove, the beach level, is plastered with pirate imagery, including an immobile ship at its center along with several silly-looking treasure chest beasts with goodies inside them. The winter wonderland of Freezeezy Peak uses the time of year associated with the season to engulf the level of Christmas cheer, something only a Western developer could fully epitomize due to living in a culture that actually celebrates the holiday as opposed to Japan observing it as outsiders. I suppose the same could be said for Halloween formulating the inspiration behind Mad Monster Mansion, but the specific elements of horror associated with that holiday were always less solidified.
One level that takes a typical level motif in a wild direction is Clanker’s Cavern. I think this is Rare tackling a sewer level, but all of the properties usually found in those terrains are only slightly recognizable. Maybe I was distracted by Clanker, the metallic shark floating in the center of the level in a pool of filthy backwashed water massive enough to fit the shark’s titanic, steamboat stature. Besides his size, Clanker’s also a great unsubtle eyesore because he looks like hell. The beastly machine has rusted over in the years he’s served as Gruntilda’s garbage disposal, with his murky eyeballs bulging out of his skull and a shockingly graphic fissure of pulpy, red flesh near the base of his left fin. He lives a fate that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but the arena where he’s condemned to live out his days is still a monumental stride in 3D-level design due to its upscaled breadth. Enclosed areas will be found per level such as the pyramids of the Gobi Valley, the interior quarters of the ship in Rusty Bucket Bay, and the pink, veiny insides of Clanker’s decaying body, and they are exciting to excavate upon uncovering them and present layers of depth in the level design. My favorite level in the game that combines an interesting theme alongside a breathtaking scope is Click Clock Wood. The entrance of the level acts as a foyer connecting four paths each represented by a season. The wooded area with a towering tree trunk at the center shares the same layout behind each door, but the aesthetic of the level is affected by the weather conditions of each subsequent equinox. From the beginning of the rainy budding of Spring, then the baked warmth of Summer, to the auburn glow of Autumn, and finally the desolate chill of winter, I was stunned to feel a slight sting of sentimentalism at the end of the cycle. The many overarching tasks throughout each season also add to the profound depth of the area’s level progression. What Rare managed to execute here is truly astonishing.

The word I’d use to describe Banjo-Kazooie’s overall design philosophy is conspicuous. Already, the word can be used to define the way in which the levels are depicted because every angle of the spacious playgrounds enlarges the player’s range of sight. Besides enrapturing the player with a broad spectacle, crafting each level with a wide range of sight in mind is perfect for the loose exploration parameters of each level. The proverbial boot that kicked Mario out of every level upon either succeeding or failing in Super Mario 64 is completely discarded in Banjo-Kazooie. Obtaining a “jiggy” piece, the main collectible that unlocks new levels in the hub by fitting them in an unfinished jigsaw puzzle of the area, will never hastily eject the player back into the hub. I’m glad that Rare remedied Nintendo’s awkward mistake here, for it's a much more sensible approach to the collectathon format. Because the player is free to explore each area without the boot-out system in place, every objective is of equal precedence, which is why allowing the player to scope them out easily while exploring is imperative. When the player comes across a point of interest on the map, the game frames the scenario clearly enough to signal that a Jiggy could be earned here. Objectives to claim Jiggies are incredibly varied, ranging from puzzle minigames, fighting hordes of enemies, races, platforming challenges, etc. The diversity on display here assures that each Jiggy task will be somewhat unique and never tire the player with repetitive tedium. One highlight task seen throughout the game is transforming Banjo’s body into another animal or creature with the help of Mumbo’s voodoo powers. Playing as a termite, alligator, walrus, pumpkin, and bee doesn’t allow Banjo to execute the same physical feats compared to when Kazooie is strapped to his back, but playing as these funny forms for a short period does enough to diversify the gameplay even more.

To make Mumbo flick his wand and say the magic words, Banjo first needs to collect enough silver, skull-shaped tokens to satisfy the pygmy magician. Not to worry, for these tokens are as prominent as the Jiggy pieces. The other collectibles such as the candy-coated, multicolored Jingo creatures and the honeycomb pieces that increase Banjo’s maximum health are a tad more unobtrusive, but never to the extent where the player will ever experience a stress-induced aneurysm trying to scope them out. The game’s secondary collectible, the golden music notes, are strewn around the level so abundantly that they’re almost like currency. I had hoped that the developers would have treated them as a form of currency because the ones the player collects respawn in the same spots if the player dies. Doing a thorough examination of a level’s layout while the land is fresh is one thing, but performing the same trek to regain these sonorous half-notes is incredibly grating. I wouldn’t mind so much if the notes weren’t necessary to proceed through Gruntilda’s Lair, and the quantity needed gets pretty stiff near the end of the game. It’s the one collectathon aspect in the game that the developers neglected to carefully consider.

The player will have to meticulously scrounge through every nook and cranny in the game anyways to prepare for the final battle against Gruntilda. This is not only because doors locked behind substantially high music note numbers are the only means of replenishing ammunition, but because of what occurs before it. Before Banjo can confront the foul face of Gruntilda up close and personal, the sickly-colored stereotype stalls him and Kazooie with a little game. And by little game, I mean Trivial Pursuit from hell. “Grunty’s Furnace Fun” tests the player’s knowledge of everything in the game, including level layouts, music cues, voices, and odd tidbits about Gruntilda that her good witch counterpart informs Banjo of in many instances. Banjo also revisits old minigames with an added timer for a steeper challenge. This array of questions delves into information so obscure that it's sadistic. Did you not know the percentage of fecal matter in the waters of Bubblegloop Swamp, or were you unable to decipher Mumbo Mountain by a picture of its grass? Into the fiery drink you go, you idiot! The pathway of panels to the other side where Gruntilda is as long as the Brooklyn Bridge, and the margins of error are incredibly strict. A few panels immediately launch Banjo to his death, sending him back to square one. I understand that this kind of inanity is in character for Gruntilda, but forcing the player to endure this seems like a contemptuous slight from the developers. They knew this wouldn’t be fun for anyone. Fortunately, the game offers a proper final boss fight with Gruntilda that utilizes all of the player’s physical prowess in an epic fight at the peak of her lair. Weirdly enough, the credits will roll after the game show portion to dupe the player into thinking they finished the game beforehand. I think offering the real final fight as a reward for collecting all the Jiggies would’ve been a better incentive, and what they decided to do here is rather obtuse.

If Super Mario 64 is the grandfather of the 3D platformer, then Banjo-Kazooie is the father figure for all other games in the subgenre that followed. Being younger than Mario’s 3D debut allows Banjo-Kazooie to use its mistakes as a reference, and Banjo-Kazooie rectifies all that Mario established with the same collectathon ethos intact. Banjo-Kazooie is bigger, more free-flowing, more ambitious, and more involved in its collectathon gameplay mechanics than Super Mario 64 could possibly have ever hoped for. No wonder why every platformer that I grew up with took notice and borrowed so much from Banjo-Kazooie to the point where Super Mario 64 seemed like the obsolete model. Check mate, Mario. You’ve been bested by a bear and his bird.