Star Wars: Rogue Squadron — A RetRose-Tinted Review

Recall — All wings, report in

Star Wars: Rogue Squadron was like Shadows of the Empire: everyone who had an N64 seemed to have a copy. It was one of those classic N64 games, especially as prequel fever was revitalizing a love for Star Wars. And I tried playing it a bunch of times with different people, but it never quite stuck. Maybe it was that I never read the instruction manual…or tried out the tutorial stage…or listened to the in-game commander for instructions…or even knew what a radar was or how it worked. I did my best, which often amounted to flying around and shooting things. Sometimes, those things even shot at me. Other times, they were stationary tibanna gas canisters before I realized that I was super committing war crimes by doing that. Short version is, I loved Rogue Squadron in concept, but damn, it kept kicking me while I was down. I was way more familiar with boots-on-the-ground operations, anyway, so a game revolving around starfighters wasn’t my forte.

So I put Rogue Squadron out of mind for a time. I’d try demos of its sequel at toy stores, and finally kicked off my journey with the third installment. By the time I went back and played Rogue Squadron properly, I was older, more seasoned, and knew how a radar worked…and it all clicked in. The X-Wings and A-Wings may not have purred for me, but I was able to pilot them and complete mission objectives…except the epilogue mission on Mon Calamari, those Devastator crafts can get bonked. I was happy enough to beat the game’s original fifteen missions, upgrades and medals be damned.

One of the standout elements of all the Rogue Squadron games were its cheat codes. Some of it is just a product of the times; cheat codes were more prevalent back in those days than they are now, in the era of mods and command lines. You could (if memory serves) unlock starships to use, unlock mission access without having to beat what came before, squeeze your way into the medal-requiring bonus missions. But where Rogue Squadron shone brightest was the developers burying a Naboo Starfighter in the game almost half-a-year before Episode I came out, and the Naboo Starfighter canonically existed. Thinking about it now, I miss that element of games. The mystery, the unknown, the surprise that developers could drop on players. Pros and cons to the changing landscape, that’s all.

Rogue Squadron made good on all the potential that Shadows of the Empire laid out with its fateful Battle of Hoth mission: various starfighters that call for different approaches, various missions that call for different priorities, and that fully-voiced, fully-realized Star Wars chatter. Oh, and the lasers and explosions are top-notch. Nothing else like it.

Revisit — Prepare for Launch

At its core, Rogue Squadron lays out an amazing foundation for what the series can (and will) do in time: give players access to short, no more than ten-minute skirmishes, throughout the Star Wars universe, in all sorts of starfighters and circumstances. It excels with bursts of activity: short missions, designed to be improved on and optimized on future playthroughs as much as they challenge on a first playthrough.

And my, are those bursts of activity something, even so long after its release. Lining up shots, unleashing semi-automatic laser fire on all manner of Imperial forces, sometimes a torrent of unaimed proton torpedoes, all while the Rebels chatter away about “where’s our cover” and “we’re being overrun.” Like, I’m busy, guys. The highlight was screaming through a mission, getting shot out of the sky, and as my craft exploded on my last life, the screen wiped and congratulated me for completing the mission. Got a silver medal for my explosive finale and everything.

Something I’d managed to bury deep in my head was the mission briefing announcer, Danny Delk. You have those small memories that are just immediately brought back up to the surface with the right catalyst, and this was one for me. The delivery, so familiar and consistent across the Rogue Squadron games, was so unique and perfect for what it was.

But there’s a lot to be said for where the game falls short, both twenty-plus years later and at time of its release. First, I was mistaken, there is no tutorial stage. There is no tutorial. Players had better have read the instruction manual before diving in, or they’re going to be experimenting on the fly like I was. This button makes me go fast, this one changes my camera perspective, this one fires proton torped-oops, that was a civilian homestead.

Nighttime missions, or otherwise dark landscapes, also don’t translate well to mission stability. When the ground, the sky, and the terrain are all dark, it’s not a challenge figuring out where I am, it’s unfair. But in open spaces, in daylight, in well-lit areas, Rogue Squadron shines the brightest.

Unfortunately, therein lies the biggest crutch of Rogue Squadron, given the legacy of Star Wars up to that point: all of its missions are based planetside. There isn’t a single skirmish that’s set in space. Granted, this didn’t occur to me until this playthrough…but hey, better late than never. So much of Rogue Squadron’s shortcomings are just a result of when it was released, and on what hardware: the draw distance, the resolution, the brightness were all just unobtainable on the Nintendo 64.

But that didn’t stop it from trying. Regardless of where Rogue Squadron tripped up in its overall structure, it still laid a hell of a foundation. The elements that stand out kickstarted a phenomenal series of games, and the parts that didn’t were gently left behind. And it should be said, unlike more recent Star Wars games, it’s not trying to take itself too seriously, either in mechanics or plot. Simplicity was its strongest element, and it made pushing back against the Imperial war machine that much more fun.

All images courtesy of MobyGames