Why I Love: Ninja Gaiden II
Punish me!
It doesn't help that enemies in the game occasionally take advantage of the rubbish camera, attacking from off-screen before you've had the chance to spot them. A couple of creatures - notably the fire-shooting bats - float onto the screen just above the camera's eyeline, so you can't see the buggers coming until a series of fireballs start blasting through your health bar.
And when Ryu meets up with a bunch of enemies in an enclosed space, forget it; the camera zings about like a ping pong ball in a tumble dryer. I once fought off an entire corridor of creatures whose identities I never learned because the camera focused on Ryu, from the front, for the entire fight.
But the most maddening thing about Ninja Gaiden II's camera is the fact that there's no reason for it to be as terrible as it is, other than to increase the game's overall difficulty. In other words, Itagaki and Team Ninja didn't just make their game hard. No, they went ahead and made it hard and unfair.
So when you play Ninja Gaiden II, you die a lot. An awful lot. The game over screen becomes something you're accustomed to seeing, and each time they appear the words "Do you wish to continue?" seem increasingly like a mocking dare.
Perhaps this is why I love Ninja Gaiden II. It offers up a challenge that few other games can match. I know the game is difficult and I know it's rigged, but that just makes me want to beat it even more. It's like sitting down to play poker with the champion of the World Series, knowing full well the deck is stacked in their favour, but being able to glimpse victory anyway.
Trouncing a talented opponent is satisfying enough. Hammering them down when you know they're cheating is absolutely sublime. In the case of Ninja Gaiden II the way in which you triumph is heavenly, because it involves some of the most satisfyingly brutal combat to ever grace a console.
There's one particular scene which captures the essence of the game's visceral hold on me. It's late in Chapter 10 and it takes place on the long flight of stairs up to the Temple Of Sacrifice.
As you move forward a huge troop of ninjas descends, slashing and hacking away. Many attack simultaneously, so there's no way to block all of them. Those who can't reach you start hurling shurikens, which makes it eye-wateringly hard to execute combos and impossible to build up an Ultimate Attack.
It's also a good idea to use Ninpo attacks sparingly because you never know when you'll get a chance to replenish them. Meanwhile, because the battle takes place in an enclosed space, the camera is about as much help as a chocolate fire engine. To win here you must zip between opponents, causing the maximum amount of damage and dodging as many attacks as you can.
The battle takes about six minutes to complete. This may sound like a small amount of time but it feels like an eternity while you're in the thick of it. As the action unfolds limbs and heads are lopped off, swords slash and clang together, and arterial spray paints the walls and floors scarlet. The soundtrack is a mixture of screams, orchestral pomp and cussing from the player.
When the last enemy falls and the camera finally allows you to enjoy the view of the carnage you've wrought, it's impossible not to gaze upon the scene and think: "Damn. I am such a badass."
I know Ninja Gaiden II is no good for me. I know it's a cheat and a liar. I know that all of its promises come with a catch. But I'll go back to it again and again, like the masochist I am, because I'll take the punishment in exchange for the glorious highs.
I think the narrator in Fight Club puts it best:
"That old saying, you always kill the one you love? Well look, it works both ways."