A feeling is intangible. A feeling cannot be measured or quantified. Yet critics want concrete evidence: a game has to do X, Y and Z in order to pass the bar, and if it’s going to do something that’s gone before it will need to clearly surpass its predecessors in order to make the grade. A feeling won’t raise the score or rake-in the sales. Cannon Spike is a game based upon feelings.

Since gaming’s primordial days, when iconic figures such as the “Pong bar” first washed upon TV screen shores, players have dreamed of seeing well known characters teamed up, or pitted against each other. This concept has birthed classics as far flung as Konami WaiWai World right up to Capcom’s very own ’Vs.’ series. Having teamed up with shooter giants Psikyo, they have brought to gamers a selection of icons and locations derived from numerous popular franchises, including Biohazard and Street Fighter, and dressed it up in hybridised shooter/fighter clothing.

Shrewdly deriving some inspiration from Smash TV, the game plays fast and furiously. Players are confined to a small, themed level, with a pre-set number of enemies to dispatch before a mini-boss and finally one of the many varied guardian battles. At the player’s disposal is the standard fare of fast-yet-weak attacks and powerful-yet-slow attacks, either type being administered from the end of a gun or by more traditional physical means. Added to the four varieties of standard attack is an ultra powerful special, of which there is a limited supply. Controls are intuitive, with the ability to run and gun in opposing directions, made even easier thanks to a laser lock-on that ensures the guns are always facing in the right direction. Whilst there is a combo system of sorts, it’s never actually put to any use since the variety of moves can’t be chained together, making it mostly redundant.

This is actually a blessing in disguise, as it allows you to focus on enjoying the game, not trying to juggle abstract rules imposed on the game's universe. Neither are there score-raising special techniques; literally blast until there is nothing left to blast, although (thanks in part to excellent aesthetics), there is always pleasure to be had from running circles around enemies, causing carnage and getting out unscathed at the end. Added to the roster is also a two-player option, which is where the real enjoyment lies.

Though many would argue that such a set up is overly simple or even deplorably shallow - the arenas being too small and the attacks being too limited - this would be missing the point. CS was never a radical depth-filled game meant to set the world on fire. The game’s simplicity (and acceptance of not being overly pretentious about what it is) is by no means a bad thing, at times holding a certain minimalist charm over the player. Rather than being forced to memorise long, complex patterns, enemy movement changes according to player actions, and the simplicity of one's tools allows the player to forget themselves in the moment, simply "play straight from the box.”

Whilst enjoyable, albeit far too short in one player, the game only comes alive once a family member has been dragged in and shackled to the Dreamcast. With each selectable character being categorised into either “forward” or “back” with regards to play style, two-player opens up a much needed element of strategy. A physically strong player such as Arthur from Ghouls and Ghosts can wade in close and dish out physical attacks, absorbing flak, whilst nimble Cammy can strafe the outside edge pumping enemies full of the proverbial lead.

It’s a game that is all about feeling since, whilst it doesn’t take existing genres into new territory, it does what it does with panache. The emphasis is far more on the innate enjoyment to be had from playing than on high scoring or clearing the game on a single credit. This becomes glaringly obvious when confronted with the choice of seven difficulty levels; four of which are all below “normal”, which in itself shouldn’t prove difficult for veteran players and, for a game that would traditionally be seen as devoid of narrative, there are (interestingly) plenty of endings.

Whilst an enjoyable feel to the gameplay can carry it for some of the way, it doesn’t make the game infallible. Simplicity in execution may be one thing, but the game is still far too short by half, each mission rarely taking up more than a single minute to complete, even on the higher difficulty settings. The roster of selectable characters is also woefully small with only seven to choose from, especially bearing in mind the Capcom franchises available. Also disappointing to some will be those that were chosen to be included, half are way too obscure except for obsessive fans. There is also the problem of motivation; apart from some very short endings, there is nothing to keep you coming back to repeatedly complete it. Dedicated serious gamers will one-credit the game relatively quickly, especially with such low difficulty levels, and even completing the lowest difficulty will unlock the art gallery on offer. Few will come back for the high scoring, since it’s basic at best with nothing to rake in the big numbers.

CS doesn’t have any trick card up its sleeve nor gimmicks to make it stand out, it’s a simple, old fashioned game that incorporates simple blasting and brawling mechanics into a package that feels nice to play. But a feeling is intangible, can’t be quantified and critics will look down on it.

A hybrid of a game that, whilst doing nothing outstandingly original, is still enjoyable, especially when joined by a fellow human player.