The Flintstones: The Rescue of Dino & Hoppy (NES) review "Fortunately, there are plenty of reasons to keep trying, even when you find yourself dying more than you might like. For one, the levels themselves are quite pretty. Sure, they don’t boast a lot of polygons or even colors, but the artists rendered them in a quaint style that can cheer you as you travel through them. Dense jungles somehow seem cheerful thanks to vibrant colors. An undersea level oozes charm, as does a distant island resort you’ll visit late in the game."

Although it’s difficult to get a lot of enjoyment from The Flintstones now, there were several years following its NES release where I played it quite frequently and had a great time doing so almost without exception. Based off the cartoon of the same name, it served as one of the few mascot-based games developed by anyone other than Capcom that was worth playing. Years later, it still has a certain charm. But because a lot of the original reasons to play related to technical prowess, the whole product often feels like something straight out of the Stone Age.

In the game, you assume the role of Fred Flintstone. If you’ve seen the cartoon, you know him as an irascible fellow who doesn’t do much other than work at the stone quarry, bowl, attend lodge meetings or get knocked over by his pet dinosaur when he walks through the front door. Dino, the pet in question, is also half the reason Fred plays hero in this game. It seems a mad scientist from the future has kidnapped the poor animal (along with neighboring pet Hoppy) for a zoo somewhere thousands of years later. The Great Gazoo, a friendly alien who has befriended Fred, will help him retrieve the animals only if his demolished time machine is restored to its former glory.

Rebuilding the machine of course requires fetching its scattered parts. And so it is that you’ll spend the majority of the game running, jumping and even flying (more on that in a minute) through a variety of charming locales. At the end of each action stage is a piece that brings you that much closer to constructing the machine. Gazoo welds each fragment onto the base and in the end, you’ll be able to zip into the future and beat the stuffing out of the mad scientist.

If you can navigate the levels, that is. One of the game’s biggest flaws is its often irritating play control. Though he has no protection on his feet at all, Fred spends the entire game moving as if someone strapped cement blocks to his soles. His walk is a waddle, his jumps short-lived to a point of repeated frustration. Not only that, but his timing seems a little poor. In even the first stage, it’s easy to go dashing down a hill, press the button to jump, but watch him bumble his way off a ledge and into one of the game’s numerous pits. Instant death.

When he’s not jumping, Fred becomes a little bit more fun to boss around. There are plenty of times where a high ledge just in front of him can be climbed by jumping, grabbing onto the edge, then hefting your considerable weight upward to a higher level. Not only that, but Fred is also equipped with a brutal club that he can charge up for powerful attacks. He can also acquire special weapons obtained by smashing crates that adorn each stage.

Unfortunately, losing a life means dropping back a bit with your weapons gone. This can lead to frustration when it comes to fighting bosses. Though you can take each of them on with no more than your club for defense, Fred’s sloth-like pace makes each such experience a negative one. It’s much more fun—and more effective, as a general rule—to stand at a distance chucking projectiles. After all, your life meter is rather limited. Because many of your enemies hop around like madmen, and because Fred often can’t move quickly enough to pass underneath, staying at a distance is the surest way to survive an encounter.

Fortunately, there are plenty of reasons to keep trying, even when you find yourself dying more than you might like. For one, the levels themselves are quite pretty. Sure, they don’t boast a lot of polygons or even colors, but the artists rendered them in a quaint style that can cheer you as you travel through them. Dense jungles somehow seem cheerful thanks to vibrant colors. An undersea level oozes charm, as does a distant island resort you’ll visit late in the game. And the whole time, some of the most memorable music the NES ever saw plays in the background. It’s enough to get you humming if you’re not careful.

A more important reason to keep completing those stages comes in the form of a little mini-game. There are three basketball courts spread throughout Bedrock. Enter one and a bully will challenge you to a game. If you win, you get an extra item you can use in the action stages. One item lets you jump high (good for collecting hidden booty). Another lets you strap on a pair of wings that you can use to fly over some of those wider pits. And still another serves as snorkel gear. You spend coins with each item use, but they’re a nice addition to your repertoire.

Of course, first you have to actually win at those basketball games. Back in the Stone Age, without the benefit of referees, this often means playing dirty. When you’re on the defense, Fred can press the ‘B’ button to ram his hapless opponent with his hip, while on the offense the same button allows him to toss the ball in the direction of the pelican beak that serves as a hoop. Such exercises can grow old in time, but they do make for a nice diversion from the norm. Then you’re done with them and it’s back to the regular routine.

As I suggested at the start of the review, there’s not a bit of this that beats many of the games that followed. Just the same, The Flintstones is a nice afternoon’s diversion. When you’re not dropping down bottomless pits or growling because a fast-moving enemy bested you for the third or fourth time, you’ll quite likely find yourself smiling. In the end, it’s hard to ask for more than that.

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Staff review by Jason Venter (January 26, 2005) Jason Venter has been playing games for 30 years, since discovering the Apple IIe version of Mario Bros. in his elementary school days. Now he writes about them, here at HonestGamers and also at other sites that agree to pay him for his words.