Review – Tsuppari Ōzumō
I don’t know a whole lot about Sumo. I’ve got a Wikipedia summary of it in my head, but I couldn’t tell you anything about its intricacies. In fact, I never had a huge desire to play Sumo games, but just look at the graphics of Tsuppari Ōzumō for the Famicom. How can you resist those happy, flipper-armed Rikishi?
I’m fairly certain that I first heard about the game from GameCenter CX. I think it was only recently featured as a main even challenge, but the show has segments where it runs through various games released throughout a year with short clips, and I only a glimpse was needed to get me interested.
Like, again, how can you not fall in love with those portly little slappers?

BANZUKE-GAI
Tsuppari Ōzumō is a really simple game, while also being more complex than you’d probably expect from looking at it. Or from any experience you might have with other NES/Famicom wrestling games. Or from a 1987 sports game, in general.
I actually have to thank past Zoey for her previous coverage of this game for Destructoid. She, that is to say, I, make it a point to say that this isn’t a game that you should button mash your way through. Reflexively, you’d probably think that jamming on the button is how you overpower your opponent, but it isn’t. You’ll no doubt mash, but observation and timing is more important.
Your wrestling power is determined by your Rikishi’s level, and your ability to overpower your opponent can be affected by how tired they are. I think there may be a “random” element in there, as well, but obviously I can’t definitively glean the internal logic just by looking at it. So, it’s better to play smart. If they can push you easily, flipping them around is best. If you can, slap them away and get some distance. When they charge, a well-timed slap to the face can stop them in their tracks. It’s easy and likely to get manhandled when they’re a much higher level than you, but there’s always a chance to win if you’re wily.

HUNDRED-HAND SLAP
One aspect that I don’t understand is the finishing moves. Actually pushing another Rikishi out of the ring is difficult, so it’s better to take advantage of finishing moves. During a battle, your stamina bar will start flashing. You don’t even have to be winning in terms of stamina for it to light up. It could potentially be the result of how many recent attacks were effective, but I’m not sure. The instruction manual doesn’t explain it, from what I can understand.
In any case, the finishing move allows you to put out your opponent with one well-aimed slap or send them cartwheeling across the ring. Some of them are hilarious. At one point, I thought an opponent had me dead to rights. They threw me high into the air and started celebrating, but then my Rikishi landed directly on top of them, securing the win. That’s only happened once for me. I wish I was recording at the time.
I’d like to once again thank past Zoey for making a big deal of the suplex finisher in my original article. As I played, I started to believe that I had been exaggerating, because I just couldn’t make a suplex happen. Eventually, I pulled it off, which was a magical moment. I never got the hang of, and I couldn’t tell you how to do it yourself, but at least I know I wasn’t making shit up.
Okay, here’s my best guess from looking at my footage. It appears that I was backed to the edge of the ring. It then looks like I did a thong lift, which triggered the suplex. Interestingly, it doesn’t look like my stamina bar was flashing, but the screen itself flashed to signify a finisher. It could be one of Tsuppari Ōzumō’s random elements, but I haven’t been able to replicate it.

DENSHAMICHI
The goal of Tsuppari Ōzumō is to become Yokazuna, and you achieve this by winning in tournaments. You don’t have to win the tournament entirely, you just have to do your best and win as many rounds as you can. If you come out on top in enough rounds, you might get a promotion.
To be honest, the promotion system isn’t totally clear to me, but it kind of doesn’t matter. After enough wins (I think), your Rikishi levels up. So, between just winning some matches and levelling up as a result, you keep climbing the ranks. The difficulty curve doesn’t really ascend, as far as I can tell. Each tournament, you’ll win until you lose, then the difficulty adjusts, and you’re put up against weaker opponents until you win again. It’s possible you can “win slower,” but I imagine that if you’re patient, your Rikishi will have downed enough rice to become Yokozuna.
And that’s kind of Tsuppari Ōzumō’s main drawback. Nothing really changes from beginning to end. Same ring, same palette swapped opponents which have you face off against dudes with horrible sunburns and concerning cyanosis, same tackle box full of strategies. Not a whole lot of variety, to be honest.

DOSUKOI!
However, it’s enough, I found. The joyful and detailed art style carries it far, even if it doesn’t change much, and the deeper-than-expected gameplay keeps things engaging. For me, its charm has been enough to suck me in until I became Yokozuna, twice now. It probably won’t be the last time, either. I probably should try out the SNES and PC-Engine versions at some point.
Tsuppari Ōzumō has never been localized into English. In fact, translation is a difficult proposition, because everything is written in the classic top-bottom right-left way and makes heavy use of Kanji. The entire UI would need to be changed to anglify it. It isn’t too hard to figure out the menus, but any other screen would require decent Japanese skills.
On the plus side, it’s not a hard game to play these days. It was included in the Famicom Mini (the Japanese version of the NES Mini). I know those aren’t produced anymore, but they’re not terribly expensive in the aftermarket. Otherwise, it’s part of Japan’s “Nintendo Classics” for Switch. If you have a Nintendo Switch Online subscription and change your region to Japan, you can download the Famicom channel and play it on there.
However, I do think you should play it. I think the appropriate way to put it is: “it slaps.”
7/10
This review was conducted on an RGB-modded NES with a Honeybee Famicom adaptor. It was paid for by the author.


