6 Games that Scratch the Shenmue Itch

There really isn't anything quite like Shenmue. As most Dreamcast fans know by now, the gameplay of Yu Suzuki's magnum opus, which juxtaposed snail's pace sleuthing around Japanese suburbia with frantic Virtua Fighter ass kicking, was polarising back when it surfaced in 1999. I am one of those many crazy people who absolutely loved everything Shenmue had to offer, especially the game's focus on the minutiae of everyday life. While some might prefer to escape to lands of medieval fantasy or vast universes of the future, I was completely entranced by the real world in which Shenmue was set, and the ordinary people that inhabited it. It felt like I'd finally found the game I'd always wanted to play.

In the 18 year absence of the series' third entry, I still needed something to scratch the Shenmue itch, and with many now wondering when a fourth instalment is going to happen, I find myself searching once again (seriously though, #LetsGetShenmue4). That's why I thought I'd present to you, dear reader, a selection of games that I believe capture the essence of Shenmue, some in more ways than others. Of course, I'm not implying that any of these games trump Shenmue in stature or quality. I'm simply suggesting that you may find some of the same enjoyment in them that you found that first time you assumed the role of Ryo Hazuki, as he set off on his quest to irritate his fellow townspeople with excessive deadpan and waste all his money on plastic Sega-shaped tat (a man after my own heart, really).

The Yakuza Series

For those of you who aren't aware of the Yakuza series (if you even exist at this point), it is a modern Sega franchise that often draws comparisons to Shenmue for obvious reasons. While Yakuza didn't necessarily copy Shenmue's homework, we'd be lying to ourselves if we didn't admit that the later games in the series definitely take some inspiration from Shenmue, at least when we compare the two at face value. A man walks angrily around a Japanese neighbourhood, beats up a load of thugs, chugs a drink, then heads to the arcade to play Space Harrier… I could be accurately describing Shenmue or Yakuza with that sentence, and the internet’s gaming population at large have picked up on these somewhat shallow similarities also. There’s not a single day that goes by without someone shouting "why don't you just play Yakuza?!" at some poor unsuspecting Shenmue fan on social media.

Image credit: New Game Network

When you start to play any of the Yakuza games, however, you soon learn that the series very much has its own identity and its gameplay differs in many ways to the adventures of Ryo Hazuki. Sure, later Yakuza games started to incorporate a lot of the same time-waster stuff that is a beloved staple of the Shenmue series, like arcades and gambling, but Yakuza is overall much faster paced, and its beat-em-up style of brawling is even more dynamic and ridiculous than Shenmue's. Think Dynamite Cop on steroids. Let's just say you're not really taking time to appreciate the scenery in Yakuza, unless that scenery is a bicycle you can pick up to smash a dude's head with. Which style of game you prefer is all down to individual taste, of course.

Image credit: New Game Network

What the two series do have in common though is a commitment to escapism. Just like Shenmue, the Yakuza games contain excellent stories, all featuring likeable characters and gameplay loops that will keep you immersed for hours on end as you bond with characters through missions and become fully encapsulated in Japanese nightlife. For those still longing for that fourth Shenmue, Yakuza is a pretty fitting game to fill the void, and with a whopping number of instalments to play that span multiple console generations, you've got plenty to work with. Go forth and be the best organised crime bloke you can be.

The Persona Series

In the past, Shenmue has been branded a "life simulator" by fans and critics alike. Well, if there was ever a series that took that concept and ran with it, it's the Persona games. Created as a spin-off of Atlus' dark-as-heck Shin Megami Tensei RPG series, Persona has grown from a quiet cult hit to a monolith franchise in the last decade. Combining turn-based RPG gameplay and creature fusing with (from the third game onwards) time management and relationship building, Persona will steal your heart and not give it back. Play it for a few hours and you'll soon find yourself thinking in the same mindset as the Japanese high school student turned defender of humanity you play as, asking yourself such questions as: "should I slay demons tonight or go sing some karaoke?"

Image credit: New Game Network

While turn-based RPG battling and creature training has more in common with Pokémon than Shenmue, Persona's commitment to exploring the finer details of real life and asking you, the player, to make decisions on how to spend the main character's precious free time definitely shares some similarities with what Yu Suzuki was going for back in '99. While Persona is a lot less interactive than Shenmue (it's a JRPG, so be prepared for text galore), it goes a bit further in some ways. In Persona, you form more than just one-sided Ryo Hazuki relationships, and most activities you do in your free time have purpose (such as karaoke), boosting stats of some kind, rather than being there to simply kill time.

Image credit: New Game Network

As far as recommending a game in this series to start you off, I'd say start with Persona 5 Royal or the upcoming Persona 3 Reload (both of which can be found on modern gen systems and PC), simply for their sheer size, depth of mechanics, and level of graphical detail. The best storyline, however, is definitely that of Persona 4 Golden, which was previously stuck on the PS Vita, but eventually got ported to PC and Nintendo Switch, along with eighth/ninth generation PlayStation and Xbox systems. Small town countryside vibes, combined with the best plot and characters of the whole series, definitely makes Persona 4 Golden a candidate for everyone's first Persona game. Reach out to the truth!

C-Smash VRS Review: A Cosmic Revival in ReVRie

Past works are lost when they stop conversing with the present. Honoring old games requires us to continue engaging with them, of course, but the onus is also on them to reciprocate. To enrich their legacy, revivals and follow-ups must do more than pander to us old fucks who were already there for them. They must also find relevance with new generations of players and creators who may be inspired to shepherd their ideas into the future. Or else let them die. Celebrating those experiences can mean reinterpreting and recontextualizing them, if not reinventing them altogether.

In this essay, I will—

And so it goes for Cosmic Smash, Sega Rosso’s modest game of intergalactic, block-breaking racquetball. The NAOMI title saw limited distribution in Japanese and European arcades in 2001, plus a stint on Japanese Dreamcasts. Following an initial run in obscurity, it has since rallied a cult following – that is, assuming the Junkyard community’s Top 200 rankings weren’t fraudulent.

At #64 overall, Cosmic Smash was voted the #5 ranked Japanese exclusive and the #1 game about swatting balls around a shipping container.

For many fans – including the creative teams at RapidEyeMovers and Wolf & Wood – Cosmic Smash’s resonance endures. Unearthing the license from under the sofa cushions at Sega’s IP lawyers’ offices (I imagine), they have developed C-Smash VRS, an unlikely reimagining of Rosso’s space station sportsball.

I’ve long respected Cosmic Smash for its melding of Rez-ish vibes and Virtua Tennish feel, but I’ve always felt detached from its primary hook. In virtual reality, though? Immersing players in the kineticism of physically swinging paddles at balls at walls in space makes immediate sense. Titles like Sparc, Holoball, and Proton Pulse have also poked at the edges of this concept in VR, albeit with mixed success. At the very least, they’ve helped buoy cyber squash as an accredited genre.

Meanwhile, the recent wave of Sega-inspired remakes/sequels/homages has set ample precedent on the nostalgic front. Yet, in the rising sea of Sega-likes, it’s easy to float adrift. Many rehash the most superficial aspects of their inspirations but fundamentally misunderstand — or fail to coherently capture — the core of why folks love them in the first place. This keeps them from fully evoking or advancing those concepts, or replicating their magic in any meaningful way.

Refreshingly, C-Smash VRS is deliberate and confident in its homage, and it wastes little time laying a foundation of its own.

VRS shares Cosmic Smash’s premise in all its minimalist glory. It has you rally a ball against a wall of blocks/panels to clear them within a time limit. As you progress, the configurations grow more layered and complex, and glimpses of puzzle elements begin to emerge. Some panels will move in patterns. Unbreakable panels will obstruct portions of the field. Special panels will clear adjacent rows, freeze panels in motion, or extend your time limit. Over time, successful hits will recharge your Power Smash ability, which can clear stacks of panels in a single shot.

The racket work feels remarkably natural. Its nuanced tracking and physics afford a wide gamut of shots, shanks, and whiffs. If you’re experienced at real-life racket sports, a few of the principles you’ve learned – like squaring yourself for forehands and backhands, anticipating timing and trajectories, etc. – will certainly help you here. If you suck at such sports in real life, though, then the learning curve will be a bit steeper. Either way, it is innately intuitive and rewarding to learn.

For their part, the PSVR2’s Sense controllers never struggle to keep up. In the game and real life, I flail in parity. And whenever I fuck up, it’s just about always my fault. The technology – or VRS’s exceptional implementation of it – simply works. That I never have to think about it is probably the best compliment I could give.

There are drawbacks, however. VRS binds several actions to the other controller, with limited options for button mapping. A Force-pull gesture serves the ball towards you, crouching helps reach low-bouncing balls, and the analog stick moves you horizontally along the baseline. It would be great to be able to remap all of these actions as needed, especially to a single controller.

Interestingly, VRS also helps me appreciate aspects of Cosmic Smash I had taken for granted. In its shift to first-person, it loses the flair of its wireframe avatar and all the cool shit they could do: The leaping volleys. The wall jumps. The aerial flips. The unlimited trick shots. The stylish replays. The celebratory flexing. They’re necessary omissions, but I underestimated their collective contribution to the original’s vibrancy and charm. Realistically, C-Smash VRS is feasible because it eschews those verbs, and players prone to motion sickness will be thankful for their absence. In that sense, VRS helps celebrate Cosmic Smash by contrast of its own sacrifices.

As with the original game, VRS’s style is integral to its substance. It preserves its clean, minimalist aesthetics and adds new flourishes of its own. It depicts a similarly optimistic future where humankind has channeled its ambitions into interstellar sports courts. VRS then expands on its setting with livelier and less claustrophobic arenas. Windows have now been installed, unveiling orbiting planets, little space guys, and other nuggets of world(s)building.

In its scope, C-Smash VRS is laser-focused on the minimum viable product, for better or worse. It practically flaunts its simplicity in its pair of solo modes. Among them is Challenge, where you progress through dozens of stages under a strict, continuous time limit to clear as many as you can as quickly as you can (i.e. Cosmic Smash). Alternatively, Zen mode works the same except failing stages doesn’t end your run and you can replay them as desired to improve your times and rankings. If that motivates you, you’ll get substantially more out of VRS’ solo-play. If not, you may be done with it after a run or two.