Spyro may be a small purple dragon, but he has a massive place in my heart due to the hours upon hours I’ve spent making him glide, charge, and plummet to his inevitable doom – but I don’t just mean as a child. Yes, Spyro The Dragon was one of the first games I’d ever played as a kid, but his legacy remains as intact as my old PS1 because I urge myself to play this masterpiece annually to this day. “But Jay!” you bellow at your screen, “This game is positively ancient! What on Earth would possess you to actively play it 17 years later?”. Well, allow me to begin my Spyro trilogy review back where it all started– right after you stop bellowing, it’s a quiet room. Thanks.
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As soon as you surpass the nostalgic melodies of the PS1’s splash screen, after a quick cutscene filled with Insomniac Games’ witty, comical humour, we dive right into Artisans – the first of the six homeworlds. Immediately, the game looks vibrant – lush colours will dart into your eyeballs and you’ll love every second of it. This eccentrically colourful art style remains consistent throughout the trilogy, and even diffuses into Ratchet & Clank – Insomniac’s subsequent project after selling the Spyro franchise. It also becomes very apparent that Spyro was created to rival Crash Bandicoot – Naughty Dog’s prominent franchise at the time (and PlayStation’s mascot). Two cute anthropomorphic animals forced on an enduring quest to save the world, it’s no wonder they joined forced in GBA titles Crash Purple / Spyro Orange.
Let’s not forget that this was 1998. Video games couldn’t afford to include grand orchestras for their soundtracks – they were stored on CDs back then, so they had to be catchy and short in order to serve their purpose and take up as little space as possible. But who needs orchestras when you have Stewart Copeland – the drummer from The Police(!) to compose your game’s music! What an excellent decision that was. Copeland synthesises a beautiful melody for each of the game’s levels, giving them their own distinctive identity. Seriously, Spyro 1-3 win the award of my favourite ever video game soundtracks – and I’ve played Ape Escape. Listening to any of them unleash a flood of memories from my childhood, whether it’s getting 117% in Spyro 1, climbing to the top of Autumn Plains for that final orb in Spyro 2, or throwing my controller in frustration at trying to collect all the dragon eggs in YotD.
It’s difficult to describe what type of games the Spyro trilogy are. The goal of each level is to platform, charge, glide, or flame your way to the end portal. In reality, it’s much more fun than that. Gems are the main collectable, much like wumpa fruit from Crash Bandicoot. If not to fuel your game completion percentage, they unlock new abilities, unlock new portals, and set free new characters – although this is only in the second and third games. Fortunately Moneybags didn’t exist in Spyro 1. They were happy times. Peaceful, even. Moneybags is an arse. The end.
The sheer variety of levels in this game is also slightly insane. One minute you’re helping a vocal wizard save his land from a yeti, and the next you’re trying to beat a leopard in a manta ray race. However, Spyro 3 was the first to introduce new playable characters. Sheila, Sgt. Bird, Bentley, and Agent 7 all have their own respective levels in each of the four homeworlds. Don’t forget the abundance of bonus levels available, including the famous skateboarding minigames found in Year of the Dragon. If you haven’t played any of the old Spyro games yet, please do. They’re over 15 years old, but they stand up astonishingly well today. It’s merely a simple joy to glide around the several unique immersive worlds the game throws at you, and one that will always remain a part of my gaming life.
Godspeed, Spyro. May Activision be gentle with you in the future.
