Play Comics

Set sail, button-mashers, because this time Play Comics is diving face-first into One Piece: Grand Battle! that PS2 and GameCube special where early Water 7-era drama gets smooshed into a chaos-filled arena and told to play nice. Expect stretchy punches, loud special attacks, and exactly the kind of character balance you’d expect from a game that assumes “pirate” and “fair” don’t belong in the same sentence. We’re talking Straw Hats, shipyards, and the eternal question: “Is this actually good, or do I just really like yelling ‘Gum-Gum’ every five seconds?”

Joining Chris on this voyage is Janine Juliette from D’ohmance Dawn, here to bring big-brain One Piece insight and just the right amount of gremlin energy to keep things interesting. Janine’s got thoughts on how this slice of the anime translates into a brawler, where the game nails the Straw Hats’ personalities, and where it feels like someone skimmed the wiki five minutes before coding a super move. If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a deeply thoughtful One Piece fan is forced to reckon with PS2-era anime jank, this is absolutely your kind of chaos.

So grab your controller, your favorite questionable snack, and maybe a backup controller for when Luffy’s rubber nonsense finally pushes you over the edge. We’re digging into how far the game actually gets into the story, why some characters feel terrifying and others feel like they snuck in as a joke, and whether this one belongs on your “must-play” shelf or your “fondly mock from a distance” list. Treasure, friendship, and highly unsafe maritime workplace practices await. Let’s see if Grand Battle! can keep its ship together.

This week on play comics we ask ourselves what happens if you you can’t decide what you want to make a game about. Should you just give up? Should you really dig into your soul and decide what you’re super passionate about? Should you look and see if there’s any other related media coming out that you can tie this game into? Or should you act like you’re at the end of five different boxes of sugary cereal and justice dump the mall into a single bowl and see what happens?

There’s certainly one thing that I made my mind up about this one, and that’s how Perry Constantine from Superhero Cinephiles and Japan on Film needed to come by and help me make sure that I kept everything straight here. And it’s a good thing too because with more playable character than I want to count spread out across 7 consoles upon release and a few more as back catalogs were taken advantage of it would have been really easy to miss something here.

So was there an actual story for this game? Or was it just a giant excuse to squeeze in as many tidbits as they could so the other kids would think they’re cool? You’ll have to listen to find out!

Grab your canned vegetables and your questionable licensed tie-ins, because this week on Play Comics we’re diving headfirst into Popeye: Rush for Spinach on the Game Boy Advance—the game that looked at a classic comic strip about a gruff sailor punching his problems and said, “Actually, what if everyone just… ran a lot instead?” This is a world where the Sea Hag steals the global spinach supply, the solution is apparently time-traveling track meets, and Popeye, Olive Oyl, Bluto, and Wimpy all agree that the best way to settle things is to sprint through history like someone off-screen yelled “last one there buys lunch.”

Helping us untangle this leafy green disaster is the wonderful Ryan Estrada from the comic-making side of the internet, a man who knows exactly what it looks like when characters escape the page and do something absolutely no one asked them to do. Ryan’s here to help figure out how a comic icon who started life in newspaper strips, got famous selling spinach, and spent decades punching sea monsters somehow wound up in a handheld racing game that feels like it was brainstormed during a very strange lunch break.

So power up that tiny GBA screen, flex those forearms, and get ready for an episode that’s equal parts comic history lesson, adaptation autopsy, and incredulous laughter at the phrase “Popeye racing game.”