Sonic the Hedgehog 3: A Cocaine-Fueled Blue Blur’s Midlife Crisis

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is less of a video game and more of an uncut line of pure chaos rendered in 16-bit technicolor. By this point in the franchise, Sega had figured out the formula: drop the hyperactive rodent into an endless loop of environmental destruction and pray the player’s thumbs don’t cramp before the acid-trip soundtrack, rumored to have Michael Jackson’s ghost fingerprints all over it, burns itself into their brain.

The “story,” if you can call it that, involves Sonic crash-landing on an island, immediately declaring war on its ecosystem, and speedrunning deforestation faster than ExxonMobil with a bad quarterly report. Enter Knuckles, the echidna who looks like a rejected 90s rap mascot and spends the game sucker-punching Sonic like a bouncer who’s just had enough of your “I know the DJ” routine. He’s supposed to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, but really he just functions as Sega’s way of telling players, “Stop having fun, we need artificial tension.”

Gameplay? Same as ever. Run fast, grab rings, lose rings, cry over lost rings. Repeat until you’re either a god of muscle memory or a broken husk wondering why you’re still chasing golden donuts that don’t even buy Sonic therapy. Special stages resemble a fever dream where Sonic is trapped in a 3D checkerboard purgatory, spinning endlessly until you either win a Chaos Emerald or throw up on the carpet.

Still, it’s undeniably brilliant. The level design is tighter than Sonic’s red sneakers, the music slaps harder than Knuckles on payday, and the speed is still exhilarating enough to make Mario look like he’s trudging through molasses. Sonic 3 is both a masterpiece of platforming and a public health hazard for anyone with a heart condition.

---