Protagonist Alex is some sort of elf, tasked with saving his brother from some bad dudes. This takes him on a journey across seventeen side-scrolling stages. Anyone who's unfamiliar with the game and glances at modern longplay footage is bound to be impressed. The graphics are quite beautiful for the time, taking full advantage of the SMS color palette (though the character models are admittedly ugly -- especially in regards to Alex and the bosses; at least Alex is properly represented on the box instead of being depicted as the fat freckled third-grader who tattled on you for saying "hell" out loud at recess...). Music is decent, if nothing extraordinary. There's a world map displayed between stages, quite the novel feature for '86, though Alex's journey has him bopping all around it, so it's of no use for gauging progress. There's even an inventory, currency, shops, and items that can be activated at any time. Wow! A couple of vehicles break up the walk/jump monotony as well: a motorcycle and a helicopter.
Although ostensibly a straightforward platformer at first glance, the game decides to get nonlinear halfway through, with a missable item containing a "code" required to complete the game. Said code has not been sufficiently localized for Westerners, and entering it incorrectly during the concluding chapter leads to certain death. But all of this is petty poop compared to the ultimate, capricious, egregious sin: Alex Kidd can only be completed by defeating specific foes in games of rock-paper-scissors. That's right, these battles are completely random ("ackshually they're not random the enemies adhere to the same patterns every time and you can just memorize every single one!" -- okay but why would you?).
Intriguing enough from a historical perspective, Alex Kidd takes a fat dump in the gameplay department. For the morbidly curious retro archaeologist only.
Rating: 1.5/5
Reviewed: 07/01/25