They might quip that Mania is simply another part of the gotta-go-fast (but only at your own risk) tradition, where fast-paced progress can only properly be achieved after fully learning any given level.
Of course, series stalwarts might point to Sonic 2 as the party responsible for messing with that suitably-hued blueprint, those 25 years ago. You might alternatively argue that the design philosophy that led the first Sonic game – speedy momentum, platform-transitioning fluidity, and satisfying flow, with the emphasis on (as Sega’s advertising so famously declared)what Nintendo couldn’t deliver with its Mario games – has been forgotten in Mania’s genesis. You might say this is a good thing, that it encourages repeat play – and the Special Stage-accessing rings, which take you to a Sonic CD-indebted UFO chase to win a Chaos Emerald, are usually well hidden enough to need to be found, rather than simply stumbled across. Mania’s levels are massive, with multiple routes available through each, Sonic often needing to double back on himself several times to wiggle through the various dangers and obstacles. There are freezing snow-blowers to contend with, which work differently to those seen in Sonic 3, while the production-line conveyor belts are used to spring our heroic avatars to new heights. Meanwhile, another wholly new level, Press Garden Zone, is a smart maze of print presses (producing Robotnik propaganda) set within both a snowy forest and inside an old, crumbling castle. Studiopolis is an extravaganza of innovation, packed to bursting point with easter eggs – and the musicis a true joy, especially for those of us who hold Sonic CD’s tunes up as the series’ best.
There are all manner of springs and loops, as you’d expect, but also TV vans to be beamed from, popcorn makers to be bounced around in, Wheel Of Fortune-like letter tiles to flip over to form in-joke messages from Sonic’s past, and a bingo machine to drop points-scoring balls from. Studiopolis Zone is the first completely fresh material Mania chooses to show off a proof-of-concept design of bright ideas mixed with series-faithful features. And this is just the first of Mania’s eight remixed zones, each one split into two acts – it’s hard not to fall in love with it at first spin. The music is familiar, but certainly not identical to the original’s rather-less-snazzy sounds. The trees look the same, so too does the lusciously green grass, chequerboard surfaces, and speed-boosting vertical loops. Some series-standard nefarious Robotnik nonsense goes down, aided by an array of robo-baddies, and suddenly we’re back in Green Hill Zone, the place where all of this began back in 1991. Sonic comes shooting into the frame from stage left, riding the wings of Tails’s biplane. Initially, Mania is a wonder, a dizzying rush of inspirational memories intersecting modern design ingenuity.