Donkey Kong ’94, a Thirty Year Reunion
Many people from the 80s will point to the NES and the Super Nintendo as the defining systems of their generation, which is fair. The gaming catalog is robust and the memories of fantastic titles (Street Fighter II, Chrono Trigger) is undeniable. But I posit that the Game Boy, not the home consoles, is the real breakout connection. After all, our parents had home consoles with excellent game selections, and no one is going to tell you the Atari 2600 or the Intellivision weren’t important. But the Game Boy was the pocket system that wasn’t just repetitive LCDs like the Game and Watch or the Tiger Handheld series. It had variety and pizazz, it had charm and heart, and it had games that would occupy you not because they were there, but because they were excellent. And none stands out more in my mind than the 1994 release of Donkey Kong.
This pocket title of Donkey Kong blew away my expectations in a big way. Just a year before, The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening had been released and made me enthralled with portable RPGs. The concept of a game that I wasn’t just playing because it was there (Tetris) was pretty cool, and my hope was to find something more compelling and in a similar vein. So, when I loaded up Donkey Kong and was immediately greeted by the first level of the original arcade title, I was disappointed to say the least. A part of me thought my parents had just dropped some odd dollars to pick up a black and white version of a title I had already played and beaten multiple times. But, at least it was a new game and I figured there had to be some bells and whistles: after all, why would I choose a save file for something that could be completed in six minutes flat?

This…feels like something different.
Yet it only takes a moment to realize there’s something different about Donkey Kong. For one, the graphics are clearly more crisp and tight: there isn’t as much blockiness as the original, so that already had promise. Also, the controls are much more responsive, with a tight movement pattern to Mario and his actions. You have less float and drift and more stopping and jumping with precision and accuracy. Suddenly those six minutes whittle themselves down to two as you burn through the stages, taking note that there are 1-Ups and collectibles for reasons that aren’t totally clear. Get to the top, dismantle the girder tower and save Princess Peach. It’s still a satisfying activity, even if it’s over far, far too quickly.
And then the other shoe drops.
Watching Donkey Kong get up, shake off his defeat and grab the Princess was a genuine delight, and now we’re off to the races for real. Donkey Kong boldly rips off the veil and shows you that the game has just begun, and now there are over one hundred stages of puzzling and reflex play to make you understand the full extent of our new journey. Each stage challenges Mario to find a key somewhere in the level and carry it back to unlock a door in order to move forward. The levels are full of hazards, baddies and multiple screens of design to explore, not to mention three items you can collect to activate an extra life bonus game. Oh, and there’s a time limit, so you not only are competing against yourself for a high score, but you also don’t want the time to expire and you die.
I had played puzzle platforming games before (Adventures of Lolo, Solomon’s Quest), but a lot of those had a sort of methodical, patient approach to the discovery. You had to do trial and error to figure out why you couldn’t get from point A to point B, and there were various mechanics that seemed to only exist or matter for one level. That wasn’t the case with Donkey Kong, as you technically have access to your full tool belt from the very beginning. Anyone who had picked up a single Mario title understood the basics of running, jumping and, in this case, picking up items. You couldn’t really stomp enemies here, but it takes only a second to realize you can pick up and throw enemies for both fun and profit.

The 1-Up is necessary due to the carnivorous nature of these fish.
Yet it goes even further as tiny cutscenes between levels exemplify what Mario is capable of. It’s not just telling the players about different puzzle mechanics, like floating platforms that you can set yourself (and then disappear after a certain time). Mario can do backflips, triple jumps and all kind of acrobatics that seemed impossible to execute on the Game Boy, but was done with absolute aplomb and flair. You find out that you can deflect projectiles if you do a handstand, which becomes key to boss fights and regular stages. Mario has always been a renaissance hero, but this is where he shines in terms of what we always expect from Mario. No powerups, no special hats, no Yoshi: just unnaturally good gymnastics from an overweight plumber.
Donkey Kong would be amazing for handling alone, but the level design feels otherworldly for the era. The stages spread out way, WAY beyond the Game Boy’s screen, forcing players to explore vertically and horizontally in order to get a full lay of the land. You might need to transport a key across three screens worth, doing your best not to get hit in any way lest you drop the key and need to go back for it. You have to contest with elevator platforms, moving baddies who react in different directions and projectiles that can come from seemingly nowhere, and all in a certain amount of time before the game drops the hammer on your head, sometimes literally.

How the hell did Donkey Kong get both an airship and retrofit actual bullets instead of Bullet Bills?
The boss fights are always Donkey Kong himself, and this is a bit of fun and almost Looney Tunes-esque appeal. Donkey Kong somehow manages to evolve his fighting form as the game goes on, shifting from simply throwing barrels to operating heavy machinery and planning elaborate mazes in the space of a single level. He somehow manages to infiltrate pyramids, airplanes and the Arctic itself to create his nefarious pitfalls, and it’s up to you to successfully navigate through bullets, falling rocks and, yes, more barrels (Donkey Kong will not ignore its roots) to save the Princess, only for her to be whisked away again. DK might have the time and the blueprints, but you have the gumption that keeps you coming back for more.
All of this is set on the Game Boy, and I cannot stress that enough. You have these massive landscapes that go from jungle to desert, ocean to valleys, and the levels just become more and more numerous. You have to contend with ladybugs, penguins, angry fish and, eventually, Donkey Kong Jr. himself trying to stop you from simply saving a lady who might not want to become a monkey bride. The music is a constant nod back to the original Donkey Kong soundtrack, but with such robustness as to inject personality and spice that you can’t help but bop along. I won’t try and undermine the success of Donkey Kong Country, but this is the game I always circle back to, despite being released in the same year, because it’s just so damn addicting.

Ha, smash.
This is one of the best pick-up-and-play Game Boy games of the era, and it’s further made so thanks to the smart decision to have save points after every Donkey Kong encounter. Rather than the old NES titles that asked you to scribble down a password or just white knuckle through multiple stages, this was a chance to play a bit, humiliate the ape and then save, so you could pick back up after school or during recess or when you should have been learning the times tables. This inspired so many other games subsequently to break things into bite sized pieces for better consumption, and players praised and applauded it as a result.
Naturally, like all great titles, Nintendo couldn’t let Donkey Kong be a standalone title, and the sequels were good in their own right. Donkey Kong Plus for the GBA was essentially the same, but more colorful and with a level editor (though I argue playing Donkey Kong on a Super Game Boy was the best approach). Then we started to get into the Minis and those sequels, and they just lost some of the spark as a result. The subsequent games were a bit more cartoony on purpose, removing some of the venom that came with the original. Sure, having DK just stealing toys instead of kidnapping people was probably a better PR move, but at what cost? Now I’m just a bit bored because I can always pick up more toys. It’s not a big deal, there’s a Toys R’ Us just down the street. Seriously, it still exists in Japan, I’m not stuck in a time loop.

Plus it fed into my gambling addiction! My totally under control gambling addiction!
Today, players can access Donkey Kong ’94 nowhere legitimately except on their cartridges, and it’s such a painful shame that this incredible title is hidden away unless you have a 3DS. It’s so responsive and clever, and it honestly has the craft of a game with heart that I don’t always see in current releases. Donkey Kong will be one of those games that I circle back to time and again, because the satisfaction that comes from way too many extra lives combined with the knowledge that I will NEED them once I get to the Iceberg is a massive nostalgia hook. Don’t let it pass just because it’s monochrome: sometimes the best truths are black and white, and it’s truly a magnificent piece of art.

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