Spider-Man 3 with Harry Steele (Games On Film)

Let's talk about Spider-Man 3, the movie where Sam Raimi looked at "menacing single antagonist" and said no thank you, I would like three, please, and also I would like Peter Parker to dance down the street like he's auditioning for a jazz-hands cult. It's a movie that tried to do everything, mostly succeeded at doing too much, and somehow still made enough money that Activision looked at it and thought: yes, this deserves not one video game, but two, spread across seven different consoles, so that literally nobody in 2007 could escape it. Ambitious! Chaotic! Extremely on brand for the source material! See, there's the fancy version, built by Treyarch for PS3, Xbox 360, and PC, where you get a whole open Manhattan to swing around in and the black suit shows up only when the story deems you emotionally ready for it, very mature, very earned. And then there's the completely different budget cousin, built by Vicarious Visions for PS2, Wii, PSP, GBA, and DS, where you can slap the black suit on whenever you feel like being a jerk, the Wii Remote gets to pretend it's a web-shooter, and the DS throws the D-pad in the trash entirely so you can beat up Sandman by poking a touchscreen like it owes you money. Same cover art. Same villains. Practically strangers. Swinging in to help me sort out how many wildly different versions of one questionable movie a single franchise can generate is Harry Steele, co-host of Games on Film, the podcast where he and his brother Rory spend their days grading movies based on video games! Which means Harry has built an entire professional skillset around asking "did Hollywood mess this up," and today, for one glorious episode, we get to point that same energy directly back at a video game and ask if it managed to mess up the movie right back. Poetic justice! Content symmetry! Whatever you want to call it, it's happening! So grab whichever suit you're feeling today, pick a console, any console, apparently they all made their own decisions, and let's find out if the Spider-Man 3 games handled three villains and seven platforms with any more finesse than the movie handled three villains and one dance number.

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Yu-Gi-Oh Nightmare Troubadour with The Gaming Anthropologist

Video game licensing runs on a very simple equation: if a popular franchise exists, and a handheld system exists, someone will eventually put a game together and slap on a release date. That's probably the story behind Yu-Gi-Oh! Nightmare Troubadour, with Konami treating the whole affair with the enthusiasm of checking a box on an extremely profitable to-do list. It was the franchise's first outing on the Nintendo DS, arriving with the confidence of a company that already knew the math worked. The pitch itself barely needed a pitch meeting: take the actual Duel Monsters card game, cram in over a thousand cards, and let the DS's two screens do what a real card table always wished it could, which is render your monsters in flashy 3D up top while the actual decision-making, deck construction, knowing what a Trap Card does, happens down on the touchscreen below. The story loosely resets you into a remixed version of a Yu-Gi-Oh tournament arc, because apparently even a game that's essentially "trading card simulator" still needed somebody to kidnap somebody, and wireless dueling and card trading rounded things out for anyone who wanted to bankrupt a friend without leaving the couch. Making the trip through Battle City with me is The Gaming Anthropologist, who's been out in the field studying gaming culture the way some people study a subject that actually pays. So build your deck, set a face-down card of your own choosing, and let's find out whether Nightmare Troubadour actually captured what made Duel Monsters worth dueling over, or whether "the license existed and so did the hardware" was doing all the heavy lifting.

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3 Mutant Nightmare with Pierce Lydon (Spawnography)

By 2005, Konami had made three TMNT beat-em-ups based on the 2003 animated series, which is the kind of commitment usually reserved for tax filings or long-term relationships. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3: Mutant Nightmare landed that November on GameCube, PS2, Xbox, and Nintendo DS as the trilogy's closer, and Konami sent it off in style by giving it the series' first E10+ rating, as if four years of shell-based violence had finally crossed some invisible threshold of Too Much. The game loosely adapts the show's third season across four "Episodes," which means the Triceratons invade Earth, Agent Bishop kidnaps Splinter for reasons that presumably made sense to somebody in a government facility somewhere, and Shredder shows back up to remind everyone that retirement isn't really a thing that happens to ninja warlords. Along the way you can pour experience points into skill scrolls, transform into a Dino Turtle or an Ultimate Turtle depending on the mood, and, if you clear the first Episode, unlock a modified version of the 1991 arcade classic Turtles in Time, which is Konami's way of saying "here's the good one, in case this one doesn't land." Joining me to sort the Triceratons from the Foot Ninjas is Pierce Lydon of Spawnography, the podcast where he and George Marston work through Todd McFarlane's entire Spawn mythology one hellish arc at a time. Pierce has already survived one trip through the Play Comics gauntlet with me on Spawn in the Demon's Hand, so they know exactly what they signed up for this time: showing up, being extremely knowledgeable, and getting talked into yet another licensed beat-em-up nobody asked for. So grab a ninja scroll, pick a turtle, any turtle, and let's find out whether Mutant Nightmare sent Konami's turtle trilogy out on a high note, or whether the Triceratons should've just stayed home.

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Flash Gordon Defenders of the Earth with Ryan Estrada

In 1986, King Features looked at its stable of unrelated newspaper strip heroes and decided the responsible thing to do was throw them all in a blender. Flash Gordon, Mandrake the Magician, and the Phantom. A spaceman, a stage hypnotist, and a guy who lives in a skull-shaped cave and inherited his job from his dad got drafted into a single Saturday morning cartoon called Defenders of the Earth on the apparent theory that if the Avengers could do a team-up, so could three guys who had never met before that year and shared nothing except a syndicate contract. Then, because nothing from the '80s was allowed to stay just a cartoon, Defenders of the Earth became a video game in 1990, courtesy of Enigma Variations, for the exact kind of home computer that made you type a magic incantation and wait: Commodore 64, ZX Spectrum, Amstrad CPC, Atari ST, Amiga, and, for the three people on Earth who owned one, the SAM Coupé. You play Flash, sneaking through Ming's castle dodging security cameras, occasionally calling in Mandrake or the Phantom to open doors, because apparently that's what magic and jungle-honed strength were for in these days. Helping make sense of this glorious pile of licensed heroes is Ryan Estrada, who's written comics for Star Trek, Popeye, Garfield, and, fittingly, Flash Gordon itself, having contributed to Papercutz's newer Flash Gordon Adventures line. Ryan's also built a reputation for tucking real hidden puzzles and messages directly into his comic pages, in plain sight, daring anyone paying close enough attention to find them. Which feels like exactly the right skillset for an episode about a security system that apparently only a few specific comic strip disciplines can defeat. So track down a joystick you no longer own, adjust to a universe where Flash Gordon answers to a management structure that includes a professional hypnotist, and let's find out whether the Defenders of the Earth earned their game, or whether Earth would've been just fine handling Ming on its own.

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Garfield’s Nightmare & Scary Scavenger Hunt with Dee Parson (Supr Dee)

Garfield has spent I don't want to think about how long being terrified for our entertainment, and somehow this is only the second time we've noticed. Today we're looking at two occasions Jim Davis's laziest creation got shoved into a horror plot he absolutely did not sign up for: Garfield's Nightmare on the Nintendo DS and Garfield's Scary Scavenger Hunt, the Flash game that lived on Garfield.com back when "Flash game that lived on a dot-com" was still a sentence people said out loud. Helping us make sense of not one but two instances of "cat, but afraid" is Dee Parson from Supr Dee, the syndicated cartoonist behind Rosebuds. A guy who, by his own account, actually learned to read on Garfield comics, which means this episode is less "guest booking" and more "the student returns to grade the source material's video game output." So lock the pantry, keep an eye on the Scare-O-Meter, and let's find out if either of these games earned the right to scare a cat who once ate an entire sandwich made of other sandwiches.

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Superman Returns with Adam Williamson

Superman Returns came out in 2006 and asked audiences a very sincere question: what if Superman, but sad? Brandon Routh brooded his way across the big screen, lifting improbable objects and pining for Lois Lane, and somewhere in a boardroom, someone decided this emotionally complex theatrical event needed to be a video game on four different platforms. Five if you count the Game Boy Advance version, which is technically a different game but we're counting it anyway because we paid good money decided that we just needed to talk about it. The PS2 and Xbox versions let you fly around Metropolis, absorbing explosions with your face in service of a health bar that belonged to the city rather than Superman himself, which is either a genuinely clever design idea or the most passive-aggressive mechanic in superhero gaming history. The Xbox 360 version turned the whole thing into an open-world showcase for what next-gen hardware could do, which in 2006 meant "look at those buildings." The DS version was a side-scrolling beat-em-up. The GBA version was something else entirely. Superman Returns contained multitudes, is what we're saying. Joining me to dig through the whole sprawling, melancholy, city-defending mess is Adam Williamson, real-life friend, frequent Play Comics guest, and owner of a podcast idea that has been marinating for what I can only describe as a concerning length of time. Adam, I say this with love: at some point you're going to have to actually make the thing. In the meantime, he's here, the knowledge is flowing, and we've got a Superman game across half a console generation to get through. So settle in, try not to let the city's health bar drop to zero, and let's find out whether Superman Returns deserved better — from Hollywood, from the games industry, and honestly, maybe from all of us.

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The Multipath Adventures of Superman with Chris Baker (SuperHero.VG)

Somewhere out there is a piece of Superman history that almost nobody remembers exists. Not because it was bad. Not because it flopped. It just... vanished off the internet one day, like it got caught in a Phantom Zone projector aimed at a server farm. That's the story of The Multipath Adventures of Superman, and we're about to dig it back up. The whole thing started life as a CD project dreamed up with actual comic book writers, including Louise Simonson and Steve Englehart, before publisher Brilliant Digital Entertainment decided the format worked better as an ongoing online series. So you got Menace of Metallo on disc, and then a sprawling, branching, multi-arc saga that lived entirely on the internet, complete with a villain who time-travels just to make everyone's life harder. And then, because this is the late '90s internet we're talking about, the entire thing quietly vanished. No re-releases, no remasters, just a bunch of dead links and a handful of people insisting this was real and they didn't dream it. So yes, this episode is a little bit of a cheat. We usually stick to games you could buy off a shelf and put in a console. This is software, distributed on a CD-ROM and later piecemeal over a dial-up connection, that you had to install a special plugin just to run. But it's a piece of Superman history that's basically slipped through the cracks of the internet entirely, and that felt worth breaking the rules for. Helping me dig through the wreckage is Chris Baker from SuperHero.VG, who has spent decades working on actual superhero games at places like Marvel and LucasArts and literally wrote the book on this stuff with WRONG! Retro Games, You Messed Up Our Comic Book Heroes! If anyone can tell us whether this lost relic deserves to stay lost, it's him. So load up the B3D Projector, brace for some early-internet voice acting, and let's see how many ways Metropolis can end before lunch.

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