1996: Pony Canyon decides that the catalogue of PlayStation is not infected enough with low-profile titles and finds a way to dump their creative incontinence into what was still considered a respected videogame system. The release of Tonzura-kun
Say, do you like clumsy action carefully mixed with yesteryear’s puzzle and platform elements? Then Tonzura-kun is your game. Or maybe getting desperate at randomly-triggered controls and spinning camera angles while you try to find a way out of each level, where the horrendous character’s girlfriend awaits you to advance to the next stage, is more your cup of tea? No matter the case: if those are your tastes, then you should go hunting for all copies of Tonzura-kun! And once you get them all, please never resell them.
Every stage in TK consists of a board divided in several squares and 5 different levels of altitude. To reach the exit (usually located at the end of the most irritating and winding path) the player must move around platforms to find a way to pile them up to get to a higher level. Blessed with a first person view located at the back of Tonzura-kun (yes, you look at the world from the rear of what looks like a giant potato-shaped body with feet) the player must move within the highly limited 5×5 range. That, while dealing with the other characters in the playfield, relentlessly dedicated to mess around with your platforms after you have spent all your energy and patience stacking them. These characters will take away your sanity faster than you can get your fast food delivered to home. Chances are, next thing you’ll do after getting all your “magnificent” platforms destroyed is giving this game CD a new use. Mmm, let’s be nice and say as a drink coaster, and pray to forget the time you wasted with this t*rd.
But what could surprise the most the bold player are not the horrendous game and artistic design, or the tiresome experiences: round after round of repetitive box stacking. No. The biggest surprise is surely the unexpected mild quality of the OST (sadly, the opening falls into the overall hideous feeling of this game). Its obvious that all the good intentions of the developers –and possibly their budget- run dry after the initial effort put in these tracks, mainly featured by (believe it or not) the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra (aka Skapara).
Nevertheless, music is not enough to redeem Tonzura kun, an interactive groundhog day, played as if the camera was pasted to the as*h*le of an invisible chestnutty character that looks like a drunk and perverted salaryman ready to spend his monthly pay at Kabukicho while his wife waits for the bank account balance to never get updated.
Wait, haven’t you bought all the copies yet? Damn, I thought this time I could convince you…