Eastern culture gives astonishing reverence to their historical military leaders. Each Warriors entry gives their treasured fighters a sense of total superiority and power. Warriors All Stars goes further – Chinese figures like Lu Bu are remembered by historians, yes, but also by beings on another planet.
Call Warriors All Stars outlandish; that’s not wrong. However, consider the plethora of orchestration, boasting a celebratory tone on the title screen, and lighter energy during each battle. It’s venerating each fighter, a mix of Japanese samurai and Hong Kong brawlers (plus a few of Tecmo’s corporate icons for marketing reasons).
If an American equivalent existed – and America’s militaristic favoritism should make it so – then Ulysses S. Grant would whip out a bayonet, charge headlong into battle, and wipe our hundreds in a single swipe. In this case, Grant’s ferocity would take aim against a race of villainous anthropomorphic alien foxes, at each other’s throats over rights to a throne. But it’s just samurai against the anthropomorphic alien foxes instead of Grant. And, samurai so mighty, the good foxes called to them to save their civilization.
Aesthetically aimless fireworks fill Warriors All Stars, celebratory and vibrant. Fighters earn cheer squads that paralyze enemies, leading to even more flourishes of flamboyant color. It’s flush with Eastern mysticism and magical happenings. Everything Warriors All Stars does is joyous. More than Dynasty Warriors’ various retellings of the Yellow Turban Rebellion, Warriors All Stars makes these superstars willing intergalactic heroes.
Beat that Ulysses.