Castle of Illusion : starring Mickey Mouse
Super Obsessive Game #9

Type of Game
A clone of a legend (of illusion), who turns out to be just as powerful—and just as cruel—toward those poor witches.
Release date on our machines
February 1991—just to rub it in the face of the Mega Drive version, which came out a month later.
Developer
SEGA Enterprises Ltd., the source of the never-ending debate: Which version of a given game is better—the 8-bit or the 16-bit?
Publisher
SEGA Enterprises Ltd. So, do you have the answer to the previous question, or what?
Castle of Illusion: available on the Master System Mini, of course!! Oh, uh, no, sorry—that console only exists in my wildest dreams.
For many years, I always thought I’d never owned this game. The Mega Drive version, yes—it’s impossible not to think about it for at least five minutes a day. But the 8-bit version? No. Then, while jotting down a few lines about Land of Illusion and my regret at not having played that one as a kid either (which was actually true this time), I stumbled upon a YouTube longplay of Castle of Illusion and… BAM—it hit me. A compartment in my skull decided to pop open, flooding me with all sorts of sweet memories. It’s weird that my brain filed these fantastic moments under “traumatic amnesia.” They must have gotten mixed up with other events—ones that actually deserve to have been repressed. My dad had definitely bought that fun cartridge; we even beat it several times together, passing the controller back and forth whenever we lost a life. How could I have forgotten those super-cool moments? Besides, there’s no way to confuse it with its 16-bit counterpart, which I used to play at my mom’s house (but definitely not with my mom).
Open the valves

Well, in the end, it doesn't really matter. What's important is to make up for this slight. Because at SEGA in the early '90s, they didn't do things halfway—they did them twice. And the 8-bit version of a title didn't always remain in the shadow of its Mega Drive counterpart.
Of mice and games

Two development studios within Sega were working simultaneously on the 8-bit and 16-bit versions of Castle of Illusion. The Master System cartridge was released a month earlier than the Mega Drive version in Europe, but two months later in the U.S. I don’t know if there was a friendly competition between the two teams, but I’d like to think there was—and that the Master System team trolled the other one a little. In short, while the story and objective remain the same, the two games have enough differences that they shouldn’t share the same name. Well, they do share the same name, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d each had their own title. The first thing that stands out is Mickey himself, who can’t shoot apples or balls in a straight line, but catches all sorts of things to launch them along a more realistic trajectory: a small, well-defined arc dictated by gravity. If the mood strikes him, our rodent hero can simply pick up those items and take them along for the ride. In fact, this feature is used far more often here than throwing projectiles over there.
It lets us reach areas, clear paths, open doors, or take out well-hidden enemies—where shooting on the MD is just an alternative to the “butt attack.” Butt attack, yeah. That’s pretty much what I used to call it. As a result, we get more collectibles and interactive stuff to play with, and that’s super fun. Master System Gameplay: 1 - Mega Drive Gameplay: 0. Come on, MD, pack up that misplaced arrogance! Whoa, uh, what’s happening to me—am I actually bashing my beloved favorite console? There are six worlds in both games, but only one stage and a boss battle for each on the MS, compared to two stages and an extra boss for its little sister. Yeah, but it lasts a little longer on the 8-bit side! So, we’ll forget about the storm and the ruins on the Mega Drive (sniff), but the candy level becomes an ecosystem all its own—not just Stage 2 of the library.


Well, yeah, it actually makes a lot more sense. I think the jumping is handled a little better on the Master System, too. It doesn’t feel as much like you’re floating on the moon. How come—did the 8-bit team come up with a better gravity system? I don’t know what you guys think, but I think that’s already a pretty good list of nice little touches to enjoy. This Master System version may largely reuse the landscapes and monsters from the MD version, but it still manages to stand out from it quite a bit. For the better, at least, because the bosses freaked me out way more on the Mega Drive. Just take that bouncing clown, for crying out loud—that thing is a spring-loaded nightmare machine straight from hell. And the dragon in the end on the Master System really inspires a lot of sympathy, to put it nicely. Poor guy—he just shows up on screen and doesn’t move a muscle until he gets blown to bits!
No animation when he gets his ass kicked—just his head wiggling to spit out a few balls of pale blue fire. Let’s just say there wasn’t any space left on the cartridge. Okay, I’m not even going to mention the evil witch who shows up right after that—that really wouldn’t do justice to this category of women, who deserve greater recognition. I don’t know, go read Terry Pratchett, or go watch Kirikou. In the meantime, Master System final battle: 0 – Mega Drive final battle: 1. Okay, so how do we figure out who wins here? Well, let’s focus on the charm each game exudes, just to see. Except… no, that doesn’t help me—it’s impossible to choose between them! Sure, the 16-bit console cranks out more pixels and colors. But those super-cute chocolate drops in the dessert factory—how can you not love them? And the rock textures in the castle level—aren’t they just mind-blowing?


But it’s so awesome, admit it, for crying out loud and holy flutes! And the chests, the slices of cake, the lanterns that turn on and off, and the buttons to press? Yeah! Super stylish! Thanks for confirming that! Both games have their own identity, and the Mega Drive version doesn’t always come out on top when you compare its atmosphere to that of the 8-bit game. Far from it. Sure, I’m super happy to have rediscovered a whole chunk of my childhood that I thought didn’t exist, but that alone doesn’t explain my enthusiasm. Castle of Illusion for the Master System is a true masterpiece of cuteness, with items to toss around everywhere. Okay, it can’t compete in terms of level design when the other one turns the toy world upside down or floods a tunnel with an absolutely terrifying torrent of water. The appeal of the 8-bit game just lies elsewhere. There you go—that’s how you resolve a dilemma.
A Soundtrack with long teeth
As if to convince us that the two Mickey games are practically identical, the musical compositions are often similar—though not necessarily used for the same stages. We’re also treated to some previously unreleased tracks, as well as others that have disappeared—quite a few, actually, since there’s now only one stage per world. It seems the same two guys worked on both soundtracks, which makes sense given the strong similarities. Kudos to Tokuhiko Uwabo and Shigenori Kamiya for pouring so much love into the 8-bit and 16-bit versions. These guys are real heavy hitters in the world of Sega (and Disney) games, with Quackshot leading the pack. Hey, wouldn’t you have wanted to work on a Quackshot Master System port, by the way? Yeah, right—now that I’ve planted the idea in your head, it’s got you obsessed, doesn’t it? It sure has me, anyway. But what am I talking about—as if these guys are ever going to read this? Since I know the Mega Drive OST by heart, I’m not going to share a Master System port of one of the titles available on both platforms. As it happens, there’s a track unique to the 8-bit console that I think is awesome—better than the ones that accompany the castle levels on its big sister’s system. Little sister? Man, I don’t know. This theme conveys a certain sense of dread without going overboard. Pure oppression, unadorned darkness. It’s… okay, enough—you’ve got to know when to stop getting carried away with your own writing, bro. Grandiloquent, self-indulgent prose—it’s fine for five minutes. Narcissistic rambling that wanders off into the clouds… oh crap! Here I go again.
Prison of Illusion : starring Mario World
Come on, guys—or girls, I don’t know how to refer to games or cartridges by gender. I’ll call it a tie. That said, this Castle of Illusion reminds me of a specific place: one of my dad’s apartments, located on the eighth floor of a high-rise across from the Rouen prison. Not exactly the spot with the best view, at first glance. Not my dad’s highest-paying period either, I imagine. I’d often stand at the living room window staring at the cell bars and the watchtowers in the distance, hoping to see something happen, without really knowing what exactly. I played plenty of other games there, but Castle of Illusion remains the one I associate most with that place, even though it’s a close call with Asterix and After Burner. I really liked that apartment. A little run-down, but not too bad. The neighbors would drop by at all hours, according to my dad. It was as if the whole floor served as a sort of hippie hangout. Among those neighbors, I had a “buddy” in the building. One of the only kids I got along with when I visited my dad, since I only came over every other weekend or so. This kid couldn’t care less about my Master System, because he’d just been given a Super NES with Super Mario World on it, which lets me pinpoint the time period with some precision: spring/summer 1992; exactly five years before the launch of FashionTV, which has nothing to do with it. I don’t hold it against the guy—he just missed a golden opportunity to pick up some neuroses.

Like, for example, my love for insignificant sprites—like the chocolate drops mentioned earlier in this article—or the fake leather on the chests in Alex Kidd in Shinobi World. At least he let me play it for a bit—thanks, buddy. I forgot your name, sorry, buddy. I haven’t forgotten your dad, though. A nice guy who ate nothing but pasta and didn’t put too many restrictions on the movies we could watch at his place. He’d laugh when I’d cry with fear watching Killer Clowns From Outer Space. He’d also lost a foot—to a harvesting machine, apparently. His leg ended straight as a pole. Or like an elephant’s foot. Or like a 16-bit sprite that had been simplified a little for its 8-bit conversion. Yeah. What a story to wrap up an article about a Mickey Mouse video game. But I don’t think you can do any better than that.
