Ducktales: It’s a rich duck’s world

 

  

Aaah, Ducktales. My third Game Boy game, which came to join my budding collection right after Super Mario Land and Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle. A game that features one of my favourite cartoon characters of that era, a character I’m still quite fond of — if only because of sheer nostalgia. A game that, just like Kirby’s Dream Land, is giving me that sweet feeling of completion I cannot get from the New Classic sessions. 

 

 

Or not quite, actually. The thing is, I cannot reliably polish off Ducktales, even after all these years and runs; there is simply no telling whether I’ll feast my eyes on the final boss when I boot up the game. See, Ducktales is really not that easy. One reason is that just like its MC, this game is real stingy: there is no Continue whatsoever, extra lives are a precious few and viciously hidden, and you start with a measly three lives and three HP points. You can reap two hidden HP points over the course of your adventure, and the game is a tad more forgiving if you play in Easy Mode; however, that ain’t enough to guarantee a smooth run, let alone a successful one.

 

Indeed, there is a worse hindrance at work in that game: the jumps, folks. Ducktales boasts pretty tight and reliable controls overall — which makes the viciousness of the jumps all the more blatant. These jumps are designed to be deadly, to act as run-enders; and man, do they excel at that nasty job. Not every single jump in Ducktales is potentially fatal, mind you; just a chosen few of them — which makes them all the more horribly memorable. Every level has at least one series of such jumps: the Flagada Jones ride in the Amazon, the wagon trip in Transylvania, the chasms in the African Mines, the crevasses in The Himalayas — and last but not least, the blocks on the Moon. Oh gosh, those blocks. Many a hope of a successful run died on these blocks back in the days, and they single-handedly destroyed a couple of promising recent runs — that is, until I had an epiphany and suddenly remembered the existence of that secret passage at the right of the remote control room, which allows you to bypass those blocks entirely. And gosh, the way that memory emerged from the deepest recesses of my mind was so darn satisfying. 

 

 

Did the jumps in Ducktales kinda traumatize me? You bet! But fortunately, there is more to that game than nasty jumps. There is a kickass soundtrack, an awesome atmosphere, and great controls; and last but not least, there is the thrill of collecting diamonds and treasures all around the world à la Indiana Jones. Ducktales is not stingy with items, that’s for sure: the whole game is full to the brim with stuff hidden everywhere — in safes and blocks, but also in scenery elements, and even in thin air. Hitting tree stumps and graves with your walking stick produces diamonds (and sometimes foes), and jumping around can make items pop into existence. The whole treasure-searching theme is so ingrained in Ducktales that the usual score is replaced by a money count, which increases as you greedily pocket gems and treasures; not only does is that design choice more engaging that a mere, abstract score, but it’s perfectly consistent with the game’s MC and the series’ spirit. Cherry on the cake: if you collect ten million dollars, you’ll be rewarded by a final scene showing Scrooge McDuck jumping with joy next to a giant safe overflowing with diamonds — needless to say, I lapped up that scene as a kid. 

 

And I played an extra run just to see that scene again.

 

Long story short: I loved that game back in the days, and I still do. It’s not as easy as I’d like, and it still roughs me up more than I’d wish; but I have a fondness for it, a fondness that will probably endure until my dying day. It’s an unforgettable part of not only my gaming career, but also my childhood; and it remains my favourite licensed game ever. I’ll see you again, Scrooge McDuck — and so will I see you soon with more gaming goodness, dear fellow gamers!