Released in the distant ‘80s, Hudson’s Adventure Island was one of those very old, truly retro kind of retro games, which had that unique feel of the early days of the 8-bit era. It’s one of those titles that pretty much everyone had played once or twice, especially because of how often it would be featured on bootleg systems, but it never really reached (or kept) the popularity of classics such as Super Mario Bros. and the like. More importantly, few ever really played it to completion. Why? Well, that’s probably because this little cartridge of chaos always masqueraded as a cheerful platformer yet secretly harboured the soul of a rage-inducing endurance test. Here’s a look at it, four decades after it was created.
I was there, Gandalf, 3000 years ago…
Players assume the role of Master Higgins (Wiggins in the UK), a chubby, shirtless caveboy(?) with the most moronic face in existence, dressed in a grass skirt. His mission will be to complete 32 levels filled with all sorts of things that are out to get him. Well, not out to get him, exactly. Apart from enemies such as the death-skull-of-death (or what’s-it’s-name), most are simple animals like snails, birds and frogs who just mind their own business – and yet Higgi over here dies in an instant upon touching them. Must be an allergy thing.
Anyways, the reason for all that island adventuring is the appearance of an evil witch doctor who kidnapped his girlfriend, who of course is also a princess, the curvy cavegirl named Tina. This is the ‘80s, people; what did you expect? There’s no buildup, no emotional stakes – just “royalty/girlfriend gone, time to bonk animals.” And then the game starts and it turns out it’s like someone looked at Super Mario Bros. and said, “What if we made this, but removed joy and inserted pain?”
At first glance, it’s a standard side-scrolling platformer: run, jump, throw axes. The extra ingredient and “signature” mechanic of the series is the constantly draining health bar, which is an improved version of the time limit, which our fauna killer can extend by constantly running and eating fruit that appears (often from thin air) in front of him. This is actually a great way to make a platformer very enjoyable, as it forces one to always be on the move. It’s the level design, though, where things get… interesting, in the same way stepping on a rake is interesting.
Initially this does have a strange kind of addictive quality. It’s enjoyably fast paced, and when everything clicks, there’s a rhythm to jumping, dodging, and collecting fruit that’s definitively satisfying. It helps a lot that the music is catchy, and the visuals, while not the best the NES has seen, manage to transport you to what looks a lot like a minimalist 8-bit tropical paradise. That changes very quickly. Yes, it’s easy for the hero to die. Standing still kills him. Touching simple critters kills him. Thinking about his life choices probably kills him. The number one killer here, however, are the levels themselves.
Enemies and obstacles are frequently placed in ways that feel deliberately cruel. As an example, the hero can trip on a rock, which is the one thing that doesn’t kill him, but that simple accident often sends him over to the deadly bonfire or even deadlier snail right next to it. Later levels require knowledge of what’s up next before it even appears on the screen, and if you aren’t carrying your trusty stone axe, evading enemies can be very hard, especially as you try to pull off all sorts of crazy jumps, and while the “clock” is still ticking…
The health bar is also a mechanic which quickly turns into a nuisance instead of something exciting, as levels quickly become increasingly firmer in how they expect absolute perfection to have any hopes of survival. You simply have to play repeatedly to memorise where a fruit will appear, something that isn’t exactly that fun when the game actively tries to kill you every second. It doesn’t help that the controls feel as if Higgins coated his feet in butter. There’s a slight persistent slipperiness here, which means Hudson, like many others, didn’t properly analyse what Super Mario Bros. did before it.
When it comes to the bonus items that are scattered across the stages, they once again find a way to aggravate. The skateboard, for example, enables moving very quickly, which at first feels like a godsend, but it also makes most stages much harder since you barely have time to react to what’s up ahead and can’t move backwards. All bonus items are inside eggs scattered across the stages; however, they are often hidden. Where are they hidden? Why, in true NES fashion, behind nothingness, leaving you to guess. Finally, we have the infamous eggplant, which exists purely to ruin your day by draining health, usually with no way to survive the damage once it decides to leave.
The lack of continues means every mistake carries weight. It’s the kind of game that punishes experimentation, curiosity and occasionally breathing. Compared to something like Ghosts ‘n Goblins, which is already infamous for its brutality, Adventure Island somehow finds ways to feel even less forgiving. It’s not just challenging – it’s antagonistic. Despite the irritating level of challenge, there’s undeniably something here that makes it oddly fun in short bursts. It gives it a kind of arcade-like energy that’s easy to appreciate, even if it rarely lasts.
While simple, the visuals are pleasant and give this its unique retro feel. It leans into a nice tropical aesthetic with its palm trees, clear blue skies, plus a mountain region and a cavern/dungeon at the end of each area. The only problem, after world three or so (out of the eight) everything blurs together into one long déjà vu. There’s a certain charm in the simplicity of it all, as the colours are bright, everything is readable, and it does just enough to sell the idea of an island adventure, but it’s not exactly the most visually memorable of video games. Apart from Higgins’ expression, of course…
The biggest flaw, however, is that repetition doesn’t stop with the look of it all. Levels quickly start to feel interchangeable, enemy patterns repeat with minor tweaks, and even the boss fights recycle the same encounter, just with more health. What initially feels challenging gradually turns into a memorisation exercise where success depends way too much on knowing exactly what will be thrown at the hero next. Combined with the recycled visuals and looping audio, it creates an experience that wears thin long before the credits roll.
