Aquapazza

There is no reason in the universe to make fighting games more accessible, and no one who makes games has any honest intention of actually doing so. Aquapazza is a great case in point, because you either have no idea what it is or you have already bought it, and it is by far the most traditional fighting game released this year. Because this game is actually pretty dang good, I am not going to do what I normally do, which is complain about how fighting games are super awesome and rad while also completely awful at teaching anyone the first thing about how to play them. I will not promise to stop doing that in the future, but I will put that complaint on hold for just this review, in which I’ll explain why Aquapazza is so rad despite being the most obscure and context-free Japanese IP localized this year.
The game keeps things simple and deep at once, and it does basically everything I want a fighter to do while cutting out most all of the absolute garbage. If you already love fighters and have a favorite that’s not Aquapazza, you might say something like, “Aevee, you are as dumb as you are cute. This game is anime bullshit, and I’m going back to Marvel.” So, I’ll also tell you why this game is super good at what it is, and why I like that—and why you might too even if you are not very anime.
I am, as you may know, a person who is pretty anime, and even I do not understand any of the references in this game or even who any of the characters are. I still find them all really likable and charming. Aquapazza is one of the few games you will ever see get localized despite being a licensed game instead of because of that, as the license in this case is a small collection of visual novels made by the company Aquaplus, makers of the game To Heart and Utawarerumono. (I have been pronouncing that last one as something like “Underwater Ray Ramano,” so that’s how much I know about it.) What’s maybe especially amusing about it all is that while half of the characters are from PC games with a limited amount of RPG fighting, the other half are from games about high school dating. The contrast is (intentionally) amusing.
In some ways, it makes sense for crossover-licensed games to be fighting games, since fighting games put characters first. Fighting games rarely have good story, but they are fantastic at character, and the source material is pretty, colorful and cutely animated. As context-free as these characters are, they’re so full of personality that they immediately make a striking, likable impression. The game’s grappler is a red-haired schoolgirl who unexpectedly performs pile drivers and German suplexes of Zangief level quality; she also can glare so hard that it paralyzes opponents from across the screen. Other notable characters are Manaka, who throws piles of books and knocks over bookshelves (all completely by accident) as her attacks, and Multi, who dashes about with a mop and who will likely inspire literally every other reviewer of this game to make a “mop the floor with (etc.)” joke. (Please, fellow critics, resist this temptation.)
Good fighting game animation should not only be clear in the information it provides and pleasant to look at, but also full of personality—a quality that traditional animation is still very good at expressing. Aquapazza does well in this area. Take Manaka, for example: the player is ideally executing all of her moves on purpose. But her animations portray her as shy, clumsy, knocking over bookshelves on accident and dropping books left and right. When she stumbles, it communicates that she’s in a recovery state, but the particular way that’s shown tells you a lot about what kind of person she is. The animation is not of revolutionary quality, but the technique involved is strong enough to communicate the personalities of the characters without any further context necessary, while also conveying essential information about the state of the game.
But, real talk: no one is buying Aquapazza because it’s a licensed game. They are buying it because of who adapted it: Examu, who are pretty dang good at making video games.
Just as the game assumes you have more than the faintest idea of who all these characters are, so too does the game expect you to already know how to play Aquapazza and what its various systems are. Like I’ve said, I kind of am I sighing and giving up about getting games to include guides on how to play them. And maybe this is a silly desire of mine, seeing as there are plenty of extremely good guides on the internet. For this review, I read up on Mizuumi, which has the dirt on fighting games you have not heard of, and explains what the buttons do and why you should press them. Everything on there will make sense to people who already understand the basics of fighters—and here we come to the reason why there are no intermediate guides for fighters, because you either know that pressing buttons does something, or you are just pressing buttons.