Goichi Suda, founder of Grasshopper Manufacture and creator of the No More Heroes franchise, describes his creative philosophy as designing games with the spirit of punk. He grew up with the musical genre in much the same way he grew up with video games, and as such wants to avoid safe, conservative ideas and to instead try and push the boundaries with what games can be. Of all the games he had worked on prior, it is No More Heroes where this spirit stands out the most.

Booting up the remastered release of No More Heroes on PC earlier this summer, I found myself struck by that very do-it-yourself “punk” nature that was rebelliously birthed in the music scene in retaliation to the prog-rockers and Simon & Garfunkels of the time. If I were to summarize the game as succinctly and accurately as I could, it would be in comparison to Scott Pilgrim vs. The World’s opening performance of “Launchpad McQuack”. It doesn’t take a professional to recognize the unbalanced audio levels that cause each instrument and mic to blow out the amps and speakers, nor does it take much to observe the lack of sophistication in the song composition. Yet there is an undeniable rawness to it that defies the systematic, corporate cleanliness of what you’d typically hear on the radio. This is expression, and you cannot help but be caught up in the energized emotion of the performers strumming those chords and banging those drums with as much fervor as they can muster.

(There is a degree of irony to this, seeing as the songs were written to specifically sound half-baked and shoddily composed. However, that’s partially because the songs themselves were rushed and given no opportunity to be cleaned up, retaining all mistakes and problems for the final cut of the movie.)

There was something of this spirit lost in No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle, perhaps due to Suda51’s shift to “Executive Director”. What that means is uncertain, though Suda’s time away from the director’s chair following the first No More Heroes has been widely published. He was still contributing ideas to the many projects within Grasshopper Manufacture, but he was not in control of them. It is, perhaps, for this reason that Desperate Struggle feels less like a sequel and more like an imitation. Like the corporate moneymen that believed they could imitate Michael Bay’s style and achieve the same success, the sequel title feels like a superficial understanding of what made the original game work while failing to capture the same heart of its unpolished “Launchpad McQuack” of a game.

Of course, the jump into No More Heroes 2 is rather confusing from the start, with the con-artist scheme of Sylvia being abandoned and the Assassin’s Association being treated as a legitimate organization. The climactic twists and reveals of the original – none of which are delivered with a fully straight-faced sincerity – seem ignored or forgotten in order to justify another round of climbing the blood-slick rank ladder for Travis Touchdown. While Travis’ sexless Otaku lifestyle was made a joke through his final goal of banging Sylvia and owing the video store a number of adult tapes, it was far from the only kind of gag or conversation held. It was an aspect of him, but there’s not a scene in Desperate Struggle without some remark, close-up, or blunt gag of a juvenile, perverted nature. Gone are the (pseudo-)philosophical discourses with the assassins, each of which had been hardened by a life of killing. Travis’ fanboy ignorance and delusions of living an empowered dream of violence were once made obvious when his efforts to sound cool before these professional killers sound instead like nonsense. Within Desperate Struggle, however, there is no character to the villains. Instead, it’s a half-baked tale of the revenge cycle, screaming loudly but saying nothing.

The sequel’s combat tries to introduce a greater variety of enemy types, yet they ultimately result in little more than being slower, bulkier, and jam-packed with hit points. Though the original game relies heavily on its bosses being unreasonably invincible to most attacks save for brief moments of vulnerability, the sequel fails to make up for it with truly captivating mechanics or climactic battles. Bosses technically have more interesting attack patterns, but many of them can be cheesed in a fashion the original game’s bosses could not. Though the over-reliance on invincibility was frustrating and dragged fights out, No More Heroes drove the player to study enemy behavior, figure out their openings, and capitalize on evasion, counters, and spine-shattering suplex moves. The jank was bearable because the logistics of the fight were still challenging and demanding of patience.

Desperate Struggle is neither desperate nor much of a struggle, save for some poorly communicated expectations in its final conflict. It truly embodies the diminutive concept of the “hack-and-slash”, where a slow but massive beam saber is capable of cutting through mook and boss alike for the majority of the game. Though the greater variety of foes and boss attacks are an “improvement” on paper, in execution they result in a game demanding less thought and more habitual button mashing.

Perhaps most telling is the manner in which the open-world was addressed between the two games. Santa Destroy is a largely barren city littered with odd jobs and combat activities. It’s not a bad setting and certainly has some character, but in No More Heroes it feels more like padding between activities in order to increase the game’s running time. It doesn’t take long before driving back and forth across the city to perform a variety of mandatory tasks between ranked battles becomes tedious, especially as the cost to enter each fight rockets into the sky. Desperate Struggle sought to counter this by removing the open-world altogether, teleporting the player from location to location from an overworld menu. Santa Destroy was no longer a place, and all side content was relegated to 8-bit mini-games that were ultimately far more time consuming than any single odd job from the first game. Instead of fixing the elements that made the over-world tedious, they removed the over-world and kept the tedium.

Though Desperate Struggle is not without its charm, it failed to understand why fans were drawn to the original despite its flaws. Or, perhaps more accurately, Desperate Struggle sought to correct what the critics deemed as faulty game design, comparable to an upstart punk rock record being reviewed poorly beside the latest overproduced pop sensation riding the airwaves. The fans, on the other hand, not only loved No More Heroes despite its flaws, many loved it for the flaws, even if they weren’t able to explain it themselves. If the spirit of punk rock is to do something different, then you’re bound to make mistakes along the way. What’s most important is that there’s nothing else quite like it.

Which is why No More Heroes III feels like a more appropriate sequel than Desperate Struggle. In June of 2019 Goichi Suda mentioned listening to fans and their input to guide the development of the long-awaited sequel, a drastically different shift from the prior game’s attempts to address the critics. This is no doubt why the open-world made a return, as well as many odd jobs and side-quests old and new. However, these elements of the original game weren’t simply dropped back in with a higher-resolution skin: changes and adjustments were made in order to improve the experience and reduce the grind.

The first adjustment is to have two separate currencies for ranked battles and upgrades rather than just the one. Combined with a reduced price hike for each ranked battle, the player is able to more expediently go from boss fight to boss fight without the open world tediously padding the game’s length out. Though there are plenty of side quests and mini-games to complete or collectibles to obtain, all of which help contribute to both currencies, they are optional and unnecessary for making forward progress. Instead, the player only has to take on a minimum of three “designated missions” before each ranked battle, keeping the focus on the reckless violence against stylish alien foes.

This is perhaps where the game sees its greatest refinements, taking some of the Death Glove abilities from the lesser filler entry of Travis Strikes Again to increase the combat options available to the player. Enemies have unique and varied attack patterns compared to the prior entries, and knowing when to launch, drop kick, slow, or pelt these foes will help both ensure survival and increase one’s rating for the fight. The higher the rating, the more cash earned. It’s still no Devil May Cry, but the combat encounters are without a doubt the most enjoyable and refined in the franchise.

The same goes for the boss encounters, relying far less on cheap tactics or invincibility. Some of them certainly have their share of gimmicks, but these often result in a break from the monotony in order to provide something fresh and inventive. Whereas Yoko Taro manages to drop players into alternate game genres in Nier or Nier: Replicant while maintaining the otherwise somber atmosphere, Suda51 slides players into a sudden first-person horror, rhythm game, or role-playing game with a twisted, delightful levity.

I can think of no other franchise that could get away with a toilet plunging mini-game without seeming crass, tactless, or juvenile. Suda51’s sense of humor often lacks sophistication, but rarely does it feel childish. He is indulgent, but unlike Travis Strikes Again, it is easier to go along with the ride in No More Heroes III. If the former title was Suda searching for that love of games out of depression, then the latter is a celebration of everything that the director has loved throughout his life. Shoji Kawamori style mech battles on land and space; references to a variety of classic game genres; a nerdy otaku with a lightsaber that spends his time between missions discussing Takashi Miike films with his best friend; opening and closing credits in the style of anime from the late 70’s or early 80’s. You can get a real sense of what Suda51 loves just by playing this game, and if you’re a kindred spirit, then the game will speak to you in a manner that few others can.

If No More Heroes is “Launchpad McQuack” and Desperate Struggle is the corporate attempt to recreate it through superficial imitation, then No More Heroes III is that original band ten years later in a far more impressive sound studio with far better equipment keeping the same spirit of song-writing alive. It’s the difference between “Prowler” and “Fear of the Dark”.

Much like punk – or even the above-referenced Iron Maiden – not everyone is going to get it. Many of the most influential bands don’t have a single song that made radio waves. Those who get it will get it, and those who understand No More Heroes will appreciate No More Heroes III the most. It’s not the best game to be released this year, but I can guarantee you that it’ll be one of the most unique, if not the most unique, and it all comes down to that do-it-yourself punk rock attitude of Suda51.

Who, for the time being, seems to be saying goodbye to Travis Touchdown. Upon release of the game he issued a farewell to No More Heroes on Twitter, discussing his intention to move onto other projects for now. It is a move that I am not against, truth told. No More Heroes III feels like the sequel fans have wanted since the first, and while Desperate Struggle was certainly fine, it was clearly not made with the same passion or spirit as the original. If the third game is to be the conclusion, then it not only delivers on the first game’s potential, but it makes for a fantastic send-off.

To that I say farewell, No More Heroes. There was nothing quite like you before, and I doubt there’ll be anything quite like you after.