Street Fighter III: 3rd Strike expertly blends fighters of martial arts —both fictitious and real— with its environments.
Released in 1999 on the Sega Dreamcast, Street Fighter III: 3rd Strike is considered a sophisticated fighter. I started up the 25-year-old game with the intention to find out why.What first grabbed my attention about 3rd Strike is not its sophistication in precision fight mechanics, but its late-night Hong Kong shopping district stage. In this stage, fighters face off on a building rooftop illuminated by neon shopping lights, as well as artificial light reflections and refractions from the rain-soaked environment. It is a serene and layered scene of blue and purple hues to simulate the moonlit buildings; a scene where animated rain droplets fill the screen as two fighters compete and negotiate to see whose martial arts are superior and which discipline will prevail in a given exchange, round, or match.
Born in an era that shifted both games and movies towards 3D animation, Capcom’s artists held firm and double and tripled down on perfecting its 2D mixed-martial arts. The game introduces nuanced fight mechanics and defensive counter-strikes and refines every aspect of the game, from its hand-drawn art style to its soundtrack, from its animations to its fight rhythms. It is almost as if Capcom’s artists purposely built environments that only could be filled with equally arcade-perfect fight gameplay.
I pick up the controller and decide to fight with Dudley, the dapperly-dressed boxer from England. Dudley arrives to the street fight in a polished Rolls-Royce-like ride, rocking a 1920s fade with a side-parted slick-back, fit for a scene of Peaky Blinders. I do not know much about Dudley, or why a scholarly gentleman in sleek dress shoes and suspenders might find joy in a brutal sport, but I am drawn to the powerful punches he throws. His hooks and uppercuts wind up and then land with a punishing smack. What’s more, Dudley’s moveset allows for freedom and promotes spontaneity, almost lifelike – a reminder of my days in the boxing gym where I would circle and weave and then let go flurries on the heavy bag as the combos came to me. Whatever felt natural. And fighting with Dudley – chaining together lefts into rights, hooks from highs and lows into powerful specials – feels natural.
In 3rd Strike, a well-fashioned power counter is just as gratifying as landing a flurry of shots. I’m a counter-fighter at heart, and so the game speaks my language while the rain continues to pound the concrete rooftops. It reminds me of what it was like to once be able to train: the fear of not being good enough, the meditative wrapping of the hands, and the pop of the glove when it meets a training pad. Determination and exhalations defined those sessions. And for fleeting moments with 3rd Strike, I remember what the endorphins once felt like, what they meant to me in trying times of my life — to have a trainer in Kru Niel to encourage me to keep going when I did not know that I could, to keep improving my technique, and more than anything, to let go of my thoughts and to let the gloves go. Martial arts training helped me out of a deep depression and catapulted me to be brave enough to take on challenges I never would have dared. It gave me self-confidence in who I am, which gave me peace.
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Credit: the2dstagesfg |
Really great, introspective piece, Steven! It's incredible what memories our fav games can provoke in us.
ReplyDeleteWhat a superbly written piece. Certainly makes me want to go back and re-acquaint myself with 3rd Strike. Actually, this reminds me of the rainswept rooftop shootout in Headhunter...
ReplyDeleteGreat stuff Steven.