Wizball

A shooter that dares to be odd. Surreal, stylish, and backed by a legendary Martin Galway soundtrack. It's like learning to ride a bike that’s slightly haunted.

Wizball is the rare shooter that feels like it was designed by someone who looked at the genre and said: “Okay, but what if we made it weirder, harder to explain at parties, and somehow… better?” This isn’t your standard “spaceship goes pew pew, aliens explode, move on with your life” deal. This is more like: “You are a floating wizard head. You have a bouncing sidekick. The world is missing its colors. Fix that.”

Let’s get the obvious thing out of the way: the presentation absolutely slaps. Visually it’s bright, surreal, and packed with personality. The color palette is kind of the whole point, because the game’s core hook is literally restoring color to the world. It turns the level into a living scorecard.

Sound-wise: Martin Galway on the SID is basically legal doping. The music is energetic, catchy, and sophisticated enough that you’ll catch yourself humming it later and feeling strangely proud of your own brain. It’s not just “good for C64.” It’s good enough that if someone told you it was a modern chiptune track, you’d believe them.

Now, the honest part: the controls are… an acquired taste. Wizball is famous for being awkward for the first few minutes, and that reputation is earned. Your main character doesn’t move like a normal ship; you kind of glide, bounce, and adjust. It’s like learning to ride a bike that’s slightly haunted. But once you acclimate, the movement becomes expressive. You start anticipating arcs, controlling momentum, using the floaty physics to weave through hazards.