There is a long held tradition in the narrative arts of calling back to events and characters from the beginning of the work right before the hero encounters his final conflict. In video games look no further than the durable Mega Man franchise as an example. In the case of the early Mega Man games, you fight through the first eight levels and each eight bosses, transverse Dr. Wily's castle, then you have no choice but to fight all eight bosses over again before taking on the esteemable Wily. Or take a fresh Capcom series for example, Viewtiful Joe, which also has you conquer all prior boss characters before you can butt heads against the villainous mastermind of the game. Even Sega's oddly named Feel the Magic: XX/XY gets into the action, by recycling bosses from prior levels (or memories, as the game calls them), increasing the level of difficulty and aptly naming the whole subsection 'Nightmare'.

I hate it. Everything was going fine with Feel the Magic before I ran up against Nightmare. I can tolerate these refrains in Mega Man, well the originals, as they were classic genre defining titles. I can appreciate it (but still grumble and swear upon encountering) in Viewtiful Joe as that series is a throwback, an homage to the sort of old-school platformer actioneering that Mega Man represents. But in Feel the Magic it's simply lazy, uninspired and hackneyed game design that brings down what otherwise is a fiery, fun and unique game.

XX/XY was a launch title for the Nintendo DS and touted utilizing all of the system's unique features, even the oft-overlooked microphone, all wrapped into a stylishly silhouetted visual package. The game itself is compiled of specific tasks you have to complete in order to woo 'the girl of your dreams'. These tasks typically entail rescuing her from certain death (rubbing scorpions off her body) or just putting the moves on her (holding hands, unbuttoning her dress and so on), all of which require inventive use of the stylus. Upon completion, each task is labeled a 'memory' so when you complete the game, you have a scrapbook of your finest courting moments, and can easily cue it up at any time.

Sega tries its hardest to weave a story from the memories but, bless their hearts, it just doesn't work. Despite the mechanical similarities between many of the memories (you rub the screen. A lot.) and even though the memories do follow a sense of causality (in the sense that you go from holding hands with the love of your youthful life to undressing her, followed by resuscitating her -- and no, that's not a euphemism), the memories feel rather cut-and-pasted together. You get the feeling that many of the tasks were often rearranged on a giant whiteboard down at Sega HQ, depending on what direction the wind was blowing and the color of the latest intern's shirt.

Consequently, it's no wonder they added such an aged device as the multi-boss refrain with the 'Nightmare' level. By forcing the player to replay three of the game's bosses, they callback on the game's earlier moments and bring a feeling of unity and completeness that XX/XY was previously lacking! Unfortunately, this technique comes at the expense of the user. We're the ones forced to replay these three tediously dull sections, and we're the ones alloted no continues between encounters. If you die while going up the infuriating plant boss, you're the one chucked back to the first, required to tap the screen over 250 times in order to conquer a horde of 100 bulls. Nightmare indeed.

Part of the appeal of defeating bosses is defeating a unique character that one hasn't encountered yet. Boss characters are those of spectacle, who intimidate the player with their size, strength and occasionally, speed. To be able to cut them down to size after many grueling attempts is one of the most exciting moments in a game. To take that event and cheapen it by recycling it, especially just a matter of hours after first encountering that boss is absolutely insulting and frustrating. It's a trial of tedium that does nothing but pad out the experience and fatigue the already tiring player who is growing weary of these hastily assembled memories.

XX/XY never fully recovers from this 'final refrain'. Even the somewhat enthusing final boss fails to rile the spirit with its giant robot missile battle. I spent the remainder of the game hoping each conflict was the last, looking forward to just being able to put the damn game down and move on. And it's quite a shame as, despite the fragmented nature of the levels/memories XX/XY's style feels enormously contemporary. The uniquely silhouetted look of the characters combined with the ultra-pop soundtrack ("RUB IT!") feel as novel as another visual cornerstone, Jet Grind Radio and the surreal story comes off as earnest, even in its absurdity.

Sadly that's not enough to save the player from the disappointment of a boss rehash instead of a suitable coda comprised of slight gameplay callbacks with some fresh techniques. The final refrain may be a staple of game design, but it's one that when lazily implemented can utterly kill any incentive the player has to press on and complete the game. It's a definite shame when something so generic brings down a game with such style and pure moxie, but hopefully these are the death throes of this aging device.