For the last few years, this video series 
has been about contiguous, interconnected,

maze-like worlds in games such as Metroid 
Prime, Hollow Knight, and Elden Ring.

BANJO: "Guh-huh!"

So you might be surprised to see 
me feature a pair of colourful

collect-a-thon platformers 
with disconnected worlds.

But there’s a method to my madness.

You see, while Banjo-Kazooie is definitely divided 
into distinct levels with little-to-no overlap,

the sequel, Banjo-Tooie, is far 
more interconnected and complex.

Almost all of the levels join up 
through shortcuts and secret routes.

Changes in one level can impact events in another.

And you'll be routinely backtracking to old 
stages to solve puzzles and collect objects.

It is, at times, a Metroidvania.

But is that actually an improvement

over the first game - or just needless 
complexity added to a winning formula?

Well, let's find out.

I'm Mark Brown, and this is Boss Keys.

Now before we can talk about Banjo-Tooie,

we have to start at the start and look at 
the first game of the series: Banjo-Kazooie.

This Nintendo 64 gem - though, I’m playing the 
Xbox Live Arcade version for the video - started

life as an isometric adventure game, about a boy 
and a bunch of pirates, for the Super Nintendo.

But after switching hardware, and 
seeing how Nintendo had changed

the platforming paradigm with Super 
Mario 64, the game radically shifted

to become a 3D platformer about a 
bear with a bird in his backpack.

And that Mario 64 inspo can 
be felt pretty strongly.

The game features a sprawling 
hub world - this time,

its the lair of series baddie Gruntilda the Witch.

The hub lets you can transport 
to a collection of uniquely

themed-worlds - like an Egyptian 
desert and a snowy Christmas land.

Inside you'll collect shiny 
golden tokens - jigsaw pieces

and musical notes, rather than stars and coins.

And those tokens give you access to new 
parts of the hub, and, in turn, new worlds.

Plus, while there's loads of stuff to 
find and do if you want to completely,

100% finish the game - you 
only need a few power sta...

I mean jiggies, to face the 
final boss and finish the game.

But Banjo is definitely not a straight rip-off.

Banjo and Kazooie feel quite different 
to control when compared to Mario.

The whole game has a snarky, 
British sense of humour.

You're not booted out of worlds 
when finding jiggies - something

Mario wouldn't change until Odyssey.

And I'd say the game leans slightly 
more on puzzle-focused challenges,

and less on ones that reward 
pure platforming prowess.

So, the game features nine levels -

there's Mumbo's Mountain, Treasure Trove 
Cove, Clanker's Cavern, Bubblegloop Swamp,

Freezeezy Peak, Gobi's Valley, Mad Monster 
Mansion, Rusty Bucket Bay, and Click Clock Wood -

all culminating in a totally 
unorthodox final level:

a high-stakes gameshow featuring trivia 
related to the game you just played.

These levels are fairly small 
and compact - but even still,

they feature a number of clever tricks 
to help you orient yourself in the level.

Stages are usually split into distinct 
zones - like Gobi's oasis, sphinx,

and pyramids - to break the 
level into organised chunks.

You also get plenty of weenies - 
you know, those giant landmarks

that provide a consistent visual guide, 
no matter where you are in the stage.

Some levels use a hub and spoke 
system - like Bubblegloop Swamp

where the five different zones fan 
off from a single central area.

And while all of the levels feature additional 
sub-rooms - they are always accessed from clearly

identifiable doorways - like the pyramids in 
Gobi's Valley and the boat in Rusty Bucket Bay.

So it's easy to remember where they are.

All of this stuff makes it easy to know 
where you have and haven't been in the level.

And they help you return to places you've

already visited - which you may 
need to do at certain times.

For instance, some levels feature environments 
that are impossible for Banjo and Kazooie

to traverse - like these super slippery 
slopes in the hill on Mumbo's Mountain.

However, Banjo can unlock helpful 
transformations - like a walrus

that can survive icy water or a termite 
that can, aha, crawl up slippery slopes.

Now you can go back to that 
area and make further progress.

Now, much like Mario 64, the 
levels are separate and standalone.

What happens in Mad Monster Mansion 
stays in Mad Monster Mansion.

But there are a few exceptions to this rule.

Like, in every level you are able to collect all

10 jiggies before moving on to 
the next stage, if you so wish.

However, in world five - Freezeezy Peak 
- there's a jiggy that requires the Turbo

Trainers which won't be unlocked 
until world six - Gobi's Valley.

This makes it the one instance where you can't 
get all 10 tokens on your first visit, and so

you'll have to go back to a previously-explored 
world if you want all the jiggies in the game.

There's also at least one moment where your 
actions in one level will have an impact on

another: if you annoy Gobi the camel in Gobi's 
Valley, he'll leave and show up in a later level.

But if you ignore that 
quest line, he won't appear.

Also, each level has a button that 
will make a jiggy appear in the hub

world - so you'll have to remember to 
track it down when you exit the stage.

And you can actually leave levels while

transformed - which can be used 
to solve puzzles in the hub.

The termite transformation can be used to scale a 
steep hill outside Mumbo's Mountain, for instance,

and the pumpkin from Mad Monster Mansion is 
needed to squeeze through this small gap.

And there's also one level that cleverly shifts 
and changes, depending on how you enter the world.

I'm talking about the... sometimes 
polarising ninth level, Click Clock Wood.

You open this level by hitting a 
flower switch - and go inside to

find a giant tree during the rainy spring season.

Climb to the top of the tree and you'll find a 
sun button that will open another door in the hub.

Which - when entered - will bring you back 
to the exact same tree, but now in summer.

There are bees about, the tree has 
new leaves, and the lake has dried up.

Which gives you access to 
another button - and lets

you come back to the level 
again, this time in autumn.

And, of course, once more for winter.

Many of the jiggies in this level require 
you to solve puzzles across separate seasons.

For example you can plant a seed in spring, 
water it in summer, and get a jiggy in autumn.

Or hatch a baby bird in spring, feed 
it caterpillars in summer and autumn,

and then watch it grow into 
a mighty eagle in the winter.

And you can break this rock while 
the lake is dried up in summer...

only to find that the path behind it is too steep.

So you'll have to come back in 
autumn, when the water's back,

and swim up to finally get your reward.

It's the sort of challenge that requires 
thoughtful consideration of the level and how

it can change and adapt - and it rewards you for 
returning to the right place at the right time.

It's a truly memorable level - 
reminiscent of Zelda dungeons,

and those clever Mario 64 stages that 
change depending on how you enter the world.

It was also one of the hardest levels 
to make - according to designer Gregg

Mayles who said it took twice 
as long as the other stages.

And it's slightly infamous among some Banjo 
fans who find it more frustrating than fun

due to the verticality, having to do the same 
tricky platforming in all different seasons,

and the pain of falling down and having 
to do the whole thing aaaall over again.

It just goes to prove that it's easy for a 
clever idea to stumble due to implementation.

A topic I'm sure we'll be returning to.

So overall, Banjo-Kazooie is a really 
fun collect-a-thon platformer - with

memorable characters, collectables, 
and worlds - and a few clever ways

to have the levels break out from 
their distinctly different zones.

But for the sequel, released two years later, 
Rare decided to make interconnectivity a key

part of the game - ensuring that every world would 
have some connection to another part of the game.

But let's press pause on that for now - and start

by talking about the levels 
individually and separately.

Because we need to know how they work alone 
before talking about how they intersect.

And also because some changes in Banjo-Tooie end 
up turning each level into a mini Metroidvania...

of sorts.

So this time the eight levels are Mayahem 
Temple, Glitter Gulch Mine, Witchyworld,

Jolly Roger's Lagoon, Terrydactyland, Grunty 
Industries, Hailfire Peaks, and Cloud Cuckooland -

with another game show at 
the end to top things off.

This first change from Banjo one is that these 
new stages are - on the whole - much, much bigger.

A level like Terrydactyland has a 
massive central chamber with a lot

of verticality - and it splinters 
off into many different sub areas.

And Hailfire Peaks takes place 
on a sprawling volcano that is

roughly the size of a Banjo-Kazooie level...

before you realise that this is only half of the

stage - and there's a whole 
icy expanse on the reverse.

All of the levels now have four warp points 
throughout to help speed up traversal,

but little else is done to help with navigation.

While I just praised Banjo-Kazooie for 
its level layouts that aid orientation,

I often found it extremely difficult 
to find my way around in Banjo-Tooie.

For example, in levels like Terrydactyland, 
Glitter Gulch Mine, and Hailfire Peaks,

I could never remember, even across 
two whole playthroughs for this video,

which nondescript tunnels led to which sub-rooms.

And I routinely got lost in the maze-like 
underwater chambers of Jolly Rogers Lagoon.

One stage stands out as a proud 
exception, though: Witchyworld.

Taking influence from real-life theme parks,

this level has a helpful hub-and-spoke 
system that keeps things organised.

Using the big top tent as an obvious 
central weenie, the stage fans out in

four directions for the entrance, and the 
space, haunted house, and wild west zones,

which have unique signs, shapes, and 
colour palettes to keep them distinct.

It's a breeze to explore and a sharp contrast 
to the rest of the game's more muddled levels.

And orientation is important in a game that 
puts so much emphasis on re-exploring space.

So in Banjo-Kazooie I talked about how in a few 
levels you could transform into critters like a

termite or a crocodile and use their unique powers 
to overcome obstacles elsewhere in the stage.

Banjo-Tooie takes this and 
amps it up dramatically.

Thanks to new character, uh, Humba Wumba.

Oy.

Every level now has a transformation, allowing you 
to become a stone statue, an explosive detonator,

a van, a submarine, a small t-rex, a big t-rex, 
a washing machine, a snowball, and a bee.

Not only will you have to find you way back to the

place where these transformations 
will grant access, but you'll often

need to figure out an alternative route 
that works for their unique movement.

For instance, it's effortless to jump up and

reach this pressure-sensitive 
switch as Banjo and Kazooie...

but as a heavy snowball 
with a three inch vertical?

Think again.

Instead you'll have to take a 
warp panel to the fire side,

hot foot it through here before melting, and 
then roll around to the button from above.

But that's not all!

This time you can also play as Mumbo Jumbo,

who can make changes in the level 
when standing on these special spaces.

But he's slow and dumpy when 
compared to Banjo and Kazooie,

so you'll sometimes need to find 
another route for him to take.

And also new for this sequel: Banjo and Kazooie 
can split up into two separate characters.

This reveals a bunch of unique moves that 
can't be done when paired up, and leads to

challenges where the bear and bird must work 
together, tag-teaming obstacles and puzzles.

All of this stuff is pretty cool, 
forcing you to understand the level

and its various paths and routes 
- and make intentional plans for

how you'll get around with the unique 
abilities of the different characters.

But this fun gameplay is let down in 
implementation - and not just by the confusing

level layouts that make it tough to even find 
that place you need to use the transformation.

No: the real culprit is the tedium of 
actually activating these transformations.

For instance, in Witchyworld you 
find this shut-down dodgems ride.

So you go all the way to Mumbo and switch to him.

Go back to the dodgems to power up the ride.

Inside is a money box, so back to 
Mumbo to become Banjo and Kazooie.

Then to Humba Wumba to become the van.

Back to the dodgems to pay the entry fee.

Then back to Humba Wumba to turn 
back into Banjo and Kazooie.

And then back to the dodgems to 
- finally! - play the mini game.

There's similar frustration in 
finding one of these manholes

which grant new abilities - only to be 
told that you need to split up and come

back as either Banjo or Kazooie 
alone to actually learn the move.

And look - it's not Rare's worst game for 
this sort of character-changing nonsense.

And the warp pads certainly do help.

But it's still just needless bloat 
and backtracking that creates

tedium and discourages free-form 
exploration and experimentation.

A button to break Humba Wumba's 
magic spell and turn back into Banjo,

or a button to call your partner back 
to you, would be a really nice addition.

All of this comes to a head in Tooie's 
most infamous level: Grunty Industries.

A level that can go toe-to-toe with the Water 
Temple for perplexing Nintendo 64 owners.

So this level is humongous - a five-floor factory

with an extra basement and 
rooftop for good measure.

It's not too bad to navigate thanks to 
clear signs above most of the doors - but

you'll probably need a notepad 
to remember what's on each floor.

The true complication, then, comes 
from constantly changing characters.

Many sections require you to split 
up - especially as Banjo needs to

transport batteries around in his empty 
backpack to unlock electro-powered doors.

Mumbo needs to make his way to various pads 
to turn off machinery - but the results are

usually temporary so you'll need to rush 
around to make any use of the change.

And then there's the level's special 
transformation: the washing machine.

This allows access to service 
lifts and some special rooms but,

for some inexplicable reason, 
you can't use the warp pads.

The machine also can't jump very 
high meaning you'll often need

to find alternative routes to get around.

In fact, much of the level involves making routes 
and paths for the other playable characters -

like dropping this Mumbo pad down from the attic,

or lowering an elevator so the washing 
machine can pass this small gap.

This leads to endless backtracking 
and character swapping.

Now many of the changes you make are 
permanent, one-way modifications to the level -

so it's more like slowly unpicking a knot,

rather than the brain-melting puzzle 
box shenanigans of a Zelda dungeon.

But it's still a lot to keep in your head as

you must remember the status of so 
many floors, doors, and sub rooms.

Without good memory or notes you can 
be wandering around aimlessly forever.

Most players will spend double the time 
on this level than any other in the game.

Now I did actually enjoy this level quite a lot 
because I’m a sicko - but I get the backlash.

Even Rare agrees that it was a lot to take in,

and that a decent in-game map would 
have helped things dramatically.

So that's the individual levels.

But now let's zoom out and 
look at the game as a whole.

Because, at first glance, the game is 
structurally similar to Banjo-Kazooie.

There's a hub world - this time the Isle of 
Hags - where we can access the different levels.

Each world has 10 jiggies to find, again, and they can 
be used to unlock stages further into the hub.

But even from the very first level, 
Mayahem Temple, things are different.

We're immediately faced with obstacles that 
we can't overcome with the abilities on hand.

And if you head through this tunnel 
and check the menu you'll realise that

you're actually in a completely different world -

Terrydactyland, which you won't explore 
properly until you unlock world five.

It soon becomes clear that Banjo-Tooie is not a 
set of disconnected stages like Banjo-Kazooie,

but actually an interwoven web of worlds 
that must be taken as a complete package.

And this interconnectivity comes in 
a few different flavours: there's

backtracking to old levels with new abilities.

Criss-crossing between worlds through shortcuts.

And making changes in one world, to 
create a knock-on effect in another.

So let's start by talking about 
backtracking with abilities.

Banjo-Tooie starts will all the moves 
you learned in Banjo-Kazooie - which

is already quite a lot - and then gives 
you loads more throughout the adventure.

There's about 20 additional abilities in all,

including different types of egg ammo, extra 
attacks, healing moves, egg-firing abilities,

and highly situational puzzle-solving 
tools like Kazooie's ability to hatch eggs.

Predictably, those new moves grant access to 
jiggies in the level where you unlock them:

in Mayahem Temple you get the Breegull 
Blaster which turns Kazooie into an

egg-spitting shotgun, and lets you get 
two jiggies from Targitzan's temple.

But the moves just as often let you get 
jiggies in stages... you've already been to.

For instance, Mayahem Temple, 
has a jiggy that requires the

Bill Drill from world two, Glitter Gulch Mine.

Which, in turn, has a jiggy that requires

the Springy Step Shoes from 
world five, Terrydactyland.

World four, Jolly Rogers Lagoon, 
needs the glide from world seven.

And world six, Grunty Industries, 
needs the sack pack from world eight.

That's not even all of the jiggies - 
and it also doesn't include additional

collectibles like Jinjos, Cheato pages, 
honeycomb pieces, treble clefs, and so on.

Now, as a concept, this is fine by me.

Revisiting old areas with new tools, keys, and 
abilities is at the heart of Metroidvanias.

And also point and click adventures - a genre 
which Banjo-Tooie often feels reminiscent of.

Plus, it's usually quick to return to old 
levels thanks to the hub (which is easier

to traverse than the one in Banjo-Kazooie) and 
other interconnections that I'll talk about later.

But the execution does leave 
something to be desired.

For one, Banjo-Kazooie established 
that - barring one exception - every

world can be finished with the 
abilities gained by that point.

Banjo-Tooie throws that convention out 
completely, which is potentially confusing.

And secondly, once the player does realise 
that jiggies may be inaccessible until later,

it's totally possible to assume that certain 
puzzles can't be solved with your current tools.

This happened to me a fair few times - in Mayahem

Temple there are two jiggies being 
guarded by sleeping characters.

I thought I'd maybe get some ability later on 
to help with this problem - but it turned out

that I just needed to move the analogue stick 
a small amount to make Banjo tip-toe silently.

This confusion is actually a 
common issue in Metroidvanias.

I once spent ages wandering around the world of 
Ori and the Will of the Wisps, looking for the

way forward - only to realise I just needed to use 
the feather I already had to wake Baur the bear.

When you establish that your game is often 
about going elsewhere to find the path forward,

it's not surprising that players 
will sometimes incorrectly assume

that the solution is somewhere else in the world.

There are a few ways to help with this.

In Super Metroid there's a room 
where you need to use Samus's

default run ability to bypass falling blocks.

The game actually locks the door 
behind you to ensure you don't give

up and try to look elsewhere for 
something to make you run faster.

In Insanely Twisted Shadow Planet you 
can scan obstacles to see what ability

you need to use - one you already own, 
or a mystery tool you don't have yet?

And in Blasphemous II, each new ability 
is linked to a single specific type of

obstacle - so there's never confusion 
about where you can and can't advance.

For Banjo it might have been nice to 
communicate this through the jiggy tips page -

a useful screen in the menu which keeps 
track of which jiggies you've found,

and gives hints and clues for finding the rest.

Some way of marking them as currently 
accessible or not might have helped.

Next, let's look at the way levels 
in Banjo-Tooie are linked together.

And this comes in two forms 
- connections and changes.

The first is literally connections between 
worlds - routes that link one level to another,

meaning you don't have to go 
through the hub world first.

So in Mayahem Temple you can make a hole that 
goes through to Glitter Gulch Mine, and later,

get access to Terrydactyland and Hailfire Peaks.

Glitter Gulch Mine has an entrance 
to Witchyworld - and Witchyworld

has a secret shortcut to Terrydactyland.

Jolly Roger's Lagoon has a pipe 
that drops into Glitter Gulch Mine,

and two pipes that lead to Grunty Industries.

Terrydactyland's stomping plains hooks 
up to Hailfire Peaks -

which also has a pipe to Grunty industries.

Plus, a one-way route to Jolly Roger's Lagoon.

However, not all connections are created equal.

Some only go one way.

And the three links to Grunty Industries go 
to completely separate and enclosed areas,

and so they don't grant access to the whole level.

Same for the route from Terrydactyland's 
stomping plains to Hailfire Peaks - it

just puts you in a tiny icy cave 
with nothing more than a jiggy.

So, put that all together,

and this gives us a map of Banjo-Tooie 
that looks a little something like this.

I've marked the connections that lead to dead-ends 
with dotted lines, to keep them separate.

Oh, and then there's Chuffy.

In Glitter Gulch Mine you can use Mumbo 
to right this broken-down steam engine.

Then, as Banjo and Kazooie, you can 
fight the conductor, Old King Coal.

Now you can open up train stations in 
six other places - the Isle of Hags hub,

Witchyworld, Terrydactyland, Grunty Industries, 
and Hailfire Peaks' ice side, and fire side.

Now you can ride the train from stop to stop.

There are now complete connections in 
every world bar the last, Cloud Cuckooland,

which is high above the Isle of Hags and 
so not physically touching any other stage.

The other way levels are 
linked is through changes.

Do something in one world and 
you'll make a difference in another.

So in Mayahem, when we open that 
route to Glitter Gulch Mine,

Dilberta the rat will run through - 
netting us a jiggy on the other side.

Likewise, opening this door from Glitter 
Gulch to Witchyworld will let a flying

saucer travel through to the fairground 
and unlock a mini-game in that level.

Witchyworld has a cell block with 
Gobi the camel and a dinosaur called

Scrut who will head to Hailfire Peaks and 
Terrydactyland, respectively, when rescued.

In Jolly Rogers Lagoon, fixing the UFO 
sends it off to Hailfire Peak's ice side.

Turning off the sewage in Grunty Industries 
will clean the water in Jolly Roger.

And you can send stuff from Cloud Cuckooland 
down to the world below - you can drain this

water into Dippy's pool in Terrydactyland.

And you can knock George ice cube down to be with 
his wife Mildred in Hailfire Peaks' ice side....

whoops, wrong side.

Well at least that water is cool now, and 
can be drained into Jolly Roger's Lagoon.

Phew! That's a lot of interconnectivity!

In fact, every single level features some 
link to another stage in the game - whether

that's a literal route between stages or 
a way to enact changes in another world.

But what's the point of all this stuff?

Banjo-Kazooie didn't have it,

after all - the only way to get from one 
world to another was through the hub.

And outside of those super rare 
exceptions I explored earlier,

the levels never impact on each other.

So what do we gain from the connections in Tooie?

Well, for one, it simply makes the 
world feel more connected and complete.

Less like a random hodgepodge of disconnected 
worlds and more like a believable space.

Grunty Industries dumps its 
sewage into Jolly Roger's Lagoon,

which delivers water to Glitter Gulch Mine.

And characters visit Witchyworld, or leave one 
world only to get trapped in Hailfire Peaks.

Just like seeing Pinna Park in the 
skybox for Super Mario Sunshine,

or realising that blue lake is the cause 
of the eternal rain in the City of Tears,

it adds to the world building and sense of place.

Two, there's just something 
special in realising that a

world is more interconnected than you thought.

Even with those dead-end shortcuts I just 
spoke about, it's still surprising and

charming to realise that you just showed 
up in a completely different level -

perhaps one you won't unlock 
properly until many hours later.

Three, is that, when it comes to those 
literal connections between stages,

it can create expedient new routes and shortcuts.

And in a game that often has you backtracking to 
an old area - perhaps with a new ability to use,

or because you just made 
a change in another zone -

unlocking quicker paths should 
be a very worthwhile reward.

Then again, I personally never 
really used them for that purpose.

It was usually just as fast, if not faster, 
to simply warp to the level entrance, leave,

and then use the handy hub world 
warps to bounce to the other world.

Ironically, this is an instance where 
Banjo-Tooie is actually so convenient

by default that there's not much to 
be gained by an extra dash of speed.

And then finally, there's using interconnectivity 
for puzzle- and problem-solving.

For instance, you can't actually enter 
the main Grunty Industries factory,

when you first enter from the hub world, because 
the front door is locked from the inside.

The solution is to find this switch 
to open the level's train station,

and then take Chuffy from another stop to 
enter Grunty Industries from the inside.

In Hailfire Peaks you need to be a 
stony to enter the kickball tournament.

So you need to use the connection to 
Mayahem Temple to transform in that

world - and then come back through as a stony.

And I really enjoyed this puzzle involving 
Scrotty the dinosaur in Terrydactyland.

Her three dino kids need help.

One can be saved by Mumbo in the level.

Another is trapped in Witchyworld's jail cells.

And the third is sick.

You'll need Banjo's taxi pack to put him on 
the train, park Chuffy at the Isle of Hags,

and then use Mumbo's magic 
point to heal the dinosaur.

These puzzles ask you to consider not 
just your current crop of abilities.

Or the tools available in the current level.

But to think about the entire world 
as a possible puzzle-solving tool.

And they feel satisfying to solve because 
they reward you for understanding how this

world works, and how all the 
different areas fit together.

Unfortunately, most of the the other 
connection-based puzzles are less exciting.

For instance - I mentioned earlier that you need 
to clean up the water in Jolly Roger's Lagoon.

It might have been cool to see a clue that 
the sewage was coming from Grunty Industries

and then make the intentional choice to travel 
there and turn off the sewage or block the pipe.

But instead there's just a shortcut above 
the tap in Jolly Roger's Lagoon that takes

you to that dead-end room in Grunty Industries 
which has nothing but a sewer shut-off switch.

And many of the changes just kind of... happen.

You break this rock in Cloud 
Cuckooland because, why not,

and then it drains down into 
Dippy's pool in Terrydactyland.

You don't have to think, plan, or 
consider how to get the water to Dippy,

you just play the game and it happens.

You don't even have to return to the level to get 
the jiggy - though you can use the new water level

to swim up and get a Cheato page, which is a neat 
reward for noting that Terrydactyland has changed.

So while these connections are cool, I 
can only think of a few times where I

felt tested and rewarded for my memory 
and understanding of the wider world.

Though... maybe that's for the best.

You see, in Banjo-Tooie, the individual 
levels are already a lot to juggle.

Many jiggies require multiple 
steps - like finding Mrs.

Boggy's three children, 
hatching Terry's four eggs,

or pocketing 20 Doubloons in Jolly Roger's Lagoon.

And you need to remember all the locations and

obstacles that you can't bypass with 
your current abilities or character.

And you simply need to try and organise 
the muddled level layout in your mind.

It's a lot to take in.

And so when you add in this interconnectivity.

When you're making changes and 
opening routes in other levels.

Or unlocking moves that might be 
useful in some previous stage.

Well, it becomes an ever-expanding,

multi-dimensional quest log of 
spinning plates and unclosed rings.

It can feel like an impossibly large 
set of chores to keep track of.

Juggling all this in your brain is a fast 
track to a headache - especially over the

course of multiple play sessions 
for this huge 15 to 20 hour game.

Now it does feel satisfying to 
finally unpick this game-wide knot.

And it is worth noting that it is 
technically possible to get enough

jiggies to complete the game without 
ever backtracking to a previous level.

But it still feels tremendously overwhelming - and

a long way from the simple 
pleasures of Banjo-Kazooie.

Designer Greg Mayles has admitted as 
such, saying "even though we thought

that Banjo-Tooie's more complex and interlocking 
worlds were better than those of the original,

many fans still believe that Banjo-Kazooie was 
the better game due to its simpler structure.

I would say we got the balance right the 
first time and perhaps made the all too

common mistake of wanting bigger, 
better, and more for the sequel".

Banjo-Tooie tried to expand in every single 
axis at once: more moves, more characters,

more bosses, bigger worlds, more complex 
challenges, more interconnectivity.

And in doing so, I don’t think 
it managed to top the original.

Banjo-Kazooie is a timeless gem that's 
easy to revisit, over and over again.

But with its more complicated 
levels and overarching structure,

one playthrough is enough for Banjo-Tooie.

A good lesson for making sequels, then:

it's sometimes best to focus on 
expanding out just a few elements -

rather than trying to outdo absolutely 
everything from the previous game.

And also, maybe don't change the entire 
thing to now be about building vehicles.

That's also good advice.

Hey, thanks for listening to a 30 minute 
rant about a 20 year-old N64 game?

What is this channel?

Let me reward your patience 
with one more Banjo story.

So one of Rare's first Xbox 360 games was the 
largely forgettable Kameo: Elements of Power.

The studio held a competition to design 
costumes for the various characters.

And so I submitted a few entries 
with Kameo characters dressed as

Rare heroes like Vela from Jet Force Gemini.

And wouldn't you know it! I 
was one of the 11 winners.

And so thanks to me, you can now turn Pummelweed 
into a weird Mumbo Jumbo amalgamation.

You're welcome, gamers.