When Peter Malamud Smith sat down to make Witcheye, a lone question must've plagued his mind: if Treasure made one more game for the Sega Genesis, what would it look like? I'm honestly surprised that more developers haven't asked themselves this question (where are all the fan-made successors to Alien Soldier, Dynamite Headdy, and Gunstar Heroes anyway?) Perhaps it's a tall order given Treasure's inimitable brand, since—despite producing almost exclusively sidescrollers—they rarely made the same thing twice. All of their games are filled to the brim with personality, passion, and an untouchable eccentricity, so following in their footsteps is no small feat. Yet even with that knowledge, Smith barreled ahead, creating one of the coolest (only?) bite-sized bounce-a-thons I've ever played.
The first thing you'll notice about Witcheye is that it's bursting with tremendous creativity. Smith's artstyle effortlessly pops, every screenshot a warm-colored painting even if the palette consists mostly of deep blues and cloudy grays. Backgrounds are exquisite, intermingling seamlessly with the foreground tiles while remaining clearly differentiated, ensuring you're never confused where you can and can't go. The soundtrack is frenetic and surprisingly varied, pushing you onward with the help of a sonorous, upbeat bass that you can't help but nod your head to. I think no matter your opinion on the game overall, it's impossible to deny that Smith is extraordinarily talented.
Deeper still Witcheye's creativity runs, like the roots of a mighty oak. Taking cues from both Treasure and classic Rare, every level is crafted around a distinct theme or gimmick, unafraid of introducing a unique enemy you'll never see again. Likewise, there's a smorgasbord of minibosses that range from nifty to tricky on the first go-around, but let you blow through them when properly trained. In fact, one of the coolest things about Witcheye is its brisk pace, with each level taking roughly thirty seconds to complete—though expect to spend several minutes when looking for the game's deviously hidden collectibles. There aren't any auto-scrolling stages, backtracking mazes, or patience-testing boss battles either (maybe sans the Colossus); Witcheye keeps you on a constant treadmill moving forwards, its eye fixed firmly on its next delightful surprise.
But what impressed me the most about Witcheye is that goes above and beyond for its NG+ difficulty. While it's worth buying the game for a single playthrough, the post-game's "hard mode" is where the gameplay really starts to shine, as it looks at every stage and manually tweaks them in just the right way. Don't expect the typical attack reduction or damage inflation; every enemy comes at you with a new trick up their sleeve, varying from a slight spring in their step to an evil new projectile to catch you off-guard. Likewise the stages themselves are occasionally altered, changing where certain collectibles are or tossing a new hazard your way (like the never-ending lightning storm of 4-7—lovely mechanic!) Witcheye's guiding hand may start in a gentle, grandmotherly manner—but play long enough and a werewolf's gnarled paw take shape, its endgame talons more than capable of ripping you to pieces.
(Plus, if you still yearn for more of a beating, you can try your hand at the boss rushes or NG++ 1-hit-kill mode!)
I think the only thing about the game that fits the "love it or hate it" bill is its curious controls. Screenshots may suggest Witcheye is a platformer, but it honestly has more in common with pinball than Mario. You play as a whirling eye set to bounce around the stage like a perpetually ricocheting billiard ball, able to change direction with a flick of the left stick and hover in place with a tap of the A button. Though simple, most of your struggles will come from accidentally veering in the wrong direction, as there's no indicator for where you're going or what direction your stick is pointing in. This leads to a lot of situations where you intend to move orthogonally but are instead sent at a slight angle, prompting more skewed course corrections and inevitably spiralling into a bunch of unintended damage.
Though unfortunate, mistakes will gradually diminish over time as you adapt to the controls. There is a noticeable chasm between how you play as an greenhorn vs a seasoned eye-bouncer, with 1-tile wide gaps transforming from your worst enemy to a shrug-inducing speedbump. You'll come to embrace unintended tilts like an awkward in-law, capable of pulling a friendly U-turn out of the worst trajectories. I mean, if someone can get used to the brain-wrinkling control scheme of Alien Soldier, then Witcheye will be child's play in comparison. Even when the game's latter stages start to turn up the heat, Witcheye stays light and breezy thanks to its snappy stages—any death you suffer is a thirty second setback at worst.
Witcheye may lack the replayable depth of a Treasure title, but it's a worthy student of the Genesis gems in just about every other way. It's well-paced, punchy, relentlessly pretty, and frequently brilliant, displaying a ton of variety for such a relatively simple game. And that's to say nothing of its superb level design, measured difficulty curve, and host of challenging extra modes for the hardcore. For the astonishingly low price it's set at (it goes for $2 on sale!), Witcheye is an essential purchase that devotes every second of its playtime to pure, unfettered fun.
(... although the cutscenes do tend to linger for a little too long)
