Uploaded August 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Released by Taito in 1991, PuLiRuLa is one of the strangest beat ’em ups ever to appear in arcades. Beneath its colorful fantasy setting is a very simple brawler, but its surreal imagery, bizarre enemies, and unpredictable set pieces give it a personality that few games from the era can match.
Rating: 6.5/10
The story takes place in Radishland, where the flow of time is controlled by giant keys. A mysterious “bad man” steals them, freezing time and throwing the towns into chaos. Two children, Zac and Mel, are given magical sticks by an old man and sent out to recover the keys. The English localization is famously awkward, with strange wording and broken grammar that somehow fits the game’s already bizarre atmosphere.
Gameplay is straightforward. You move in eight directions, attack with your magic stick, jump, and use a limited screen-clearing magic attack. There are a few directional variations to the basic strike, but no elaborate combos, grabs, weapon pickups, or deep character-specific techniques.
Most ordinary enemies go down in only one or two hits. Defeated foes often transform into small animals that run across the screen, and collecting them earns points. Waiting until they have traveled farther increases their value, adding a small high-score element to otherwise basic combat.
Magic attacks are much more memorable. They can summon stampeding animals or trigger completely absurd animated sequences that seem designed purely to surprise the player. Two-player co-op also lets Zac and Mel combine their magic for an even stronger effect.
Mechanically, however, PuLiRuLa is shallow. Fighting usually comes down to lining yourself up with enemies, swinging the stick, and avoiding being surrounded. Hit detection and vertical alignment can occasionally feel imprecise, particularly during boss battles. Once the novelty wears off, there simply is not much depth to master.
Fortunately, the gameplay is not really the main attraction.
Visually, the game is extraordinary for 1991. Early stages begin as fairly conventional fantasy locations, but the scenery becomes increasingly surreal as the adventure continues. You encounter warped architecture, oversized household objects, digitized faces, giant human body parts, strange animals, and backgrounds that resemble dream sequences or experimental paintings.
Some enemies are almost impossible to describe without seeing them in motion. Mustached creatures, bizarre birds, living objects, floating heads, and other inexplicable designs appear with little warning. Even the bosses often feel more like surreal animated set pieces than traditional video-game monsters.
The international versions removed or altered some of the more suggestive imagery found in the Japanese release, including the infamous giant female legs appearing through doors. Even with those edits, the game remains thoroughly strange.
The colorful sprite work and animation are excellent, and the later stages feel almost like an interactive surrealist art gallery. The soundtrack matches the whimsical tone with cheerful, energetic melodies, although the music is less memorable than the visuals and can become repetitive.
There are only six stages, and a complete playthrough takes roughly 20–30 minutes. Difficulty is also fairly low by arcade beat ’em up standards. Regular enemies rarely pose much of a threat individually, while bosses depend more on pattern recognition than complicated techniques.
That short length actually works in the game’s favor. PuLiRuLa does not have enough mechanical variety to support a long campaign, so the constant stream of strange visual ideas keeps things moving before the combat becomes too repetitive.
PuLiRuLa is ultimately a classic case of style over substance. As a pure beat ’em up, it is short, shallow, and nowhere near as satisfying as the genre’s best games. But as an arcade curiosity, it is unforgettable. Its bizarre art direction, strange humor, broken English, unusual scoring system, and increasingly ridiculous imagery make it unlike almost anything else from the early 1990s.
It may not be a great brawler, but it is absolutely worth experiencing once just to see how weird Radishland becomes.
Released by Taito in 1991, PuLiRuLa is one of the strangest beat ’em ups ever to appear in arcades. Beneath its colorful fantasy setting is a very simple brawler, but its surreal imagery, bizarre enemies, and unpredictable set pieces give it a personality that few games from the era can match.
Rating: 6.5/10
The story takes place in Radishland, where the flow of time is controlled by giant keys. A mysterious “bad man” steals them, freezing time and throwing the towns into chaos. Two children, Zac and Mel, are given magical sticks by an old man and sent out to recover the keys. The English localization is famously awkward, with strange wording and broken grammar that somehow fits the game’s already bizarre atmosphere.
Gameplay is straightforward. You move in eight directions, attack with your magic stick, jump, and use a limited screen-clearing magic attack. There are a few directional variations to the basic strike, but no elaborate combos, grabs, weapon pickups, or deep character-specific techniques.
Most ordinary enemies go down in only one or two hits. Defeated foes often transform into small animals that run across the screen, and collecting them earns points. Waiting until they have traveled farther increases their value, adding a small high-score element to otherwise basic combat.
Magic attacks are much more memorable. They can summon stampeding animals or trigger completely absurd animated sequences that seem designed purely to surprise the player. Two-player co-op also lets Zac and Mel combine their magic for an even stronger effect.
Mechanically, however, PuLiRuLa is shallow. Fighting usually comes down to lining yourself up with enemies, swinging the stick, and avoiding being surrounded. Hit detection and vertical alignment can occasionally feel imprecise, particularly during boss battles. Once the novelty wears off, there simply is not much depth to master.
Fortunately, the gameplay is not really the main attraction.
Visually, the game is extraordinary for 1991. Early stages begin as fairly conventional fantasy locations, but the scenery becomes increasingly surreal as the adventure continues. You encounter warped architecture, oversized household objects, digitized faces, giant human body parts, strange animals, and backgrounds that resemble dream sequences or experimental paintings.
Some enemies are almost impossible to describe without seeing them in motion. Mustached creatures, bizarre birds, living objects, floating heads, and other inexplicable designs appear with little warning. Even the bosses often feel more like surreal animated set pieces than traditional video-game monsters.
The international versions removed or altered some of the more suggestive imagery found in the Japanese release, including the infamous giant female legs appearing through doors. Even with those edits, the game remains thoroughly strange.
The colorful sprite work and animation are excellent, and the later stages feel almost like an interactive surrealist art gallery. The soundtrack matches the whimsical tone with cheerful, energetic melodies, although the music is less memorable than the visuals and can become repetitive.
There are only six stages, and a complete playthrough takes roughly 20–30 minutes. Difficulty is also fairly low by arcade beat ’em up standards. Regular enemies rarely pose much of a threat individually, while bosses depend more on pattern recognition than complicated techniques.
That short length actually works in the game’s favor. PuLiRuLa does not have enough mechanical variety to support a long campaign, so the constant stream of strange visual ideas keeps things moving before the combat becomes too repetitive.
PuLiRuLa is ultimately a classic case of style over substance. As a pure beat ’em up, it is short, shallow, and nowhere near as satisfying as the genre’s best games. But as an arcade curiosity, it is unforgettable. Its bizarre art direction, strange humor, broken English, unusual scoring system, and increasingly ridiculous imagery make it unlike almost anything else from the early 1990s.
It may not be a great brawler, but it is absolutely worth experiencing once just to see how weird Radishland becomes.
