It was late 2002. The PlayStation 2 was king. Kids everywhere were tearing off wrapping paper, expecting the next evolution of the purple dragon they’d grown to love on the original PS1. Instead, they got Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly.
Honestly? It was a mess.
If you grew up in that era, you probably remember the loading screens. They felt like they lasted an eternity. You could go make a sandwich, come back, and Spyro would still be spinning in that void. It’s one of the most fascinating cases of "what could have been" in gaming history. Usually, when a mascot makes the jump to a new console generation, it’s a victory lap. Think Super Mario 64 or Jak and Daxter. But for Spyro, this was the beginning of a very long, very bumpy road that almost ended the franchise entirely.
The game was supposed to be a massive, sprawling adventure. Instead, we got nine levels. Nine. For a full-priced AAA release in 2002, that was practically unheard of.
The Chaos Behind the Scenes at Check Six and Equinox
You can't talk about Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly without talking about the development nightmare. Insomniac Games, the original creators, had moved on to Ratchet & Clank. They were done with the dragon. Universal Interactive handed the keys to two relatively unknown studios: Check Six Studios and Equinox Digital Entertainment.
It was a recipe for disaster.
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Reports from developers who worked on the project describe a workplace that was basically on fire. They had about a year to build a game from scratch on hardware they didn't fully understand. Universal reportedly demanded the game be ready for the 2002 holiday season, no matter what. You’ve probably heard the phrase "crunch culture" lately, but this was a different beast. They were cutting entire hubs and levels just weeks before the gold master was due.
There was a whole mechanical world planned. It’s gone. A space-themed area? Scrapped. What we ended up with was a skeleton of a game held together by duct tape and prayers.
Why the Framerate Felt Like a Slideshow
If you try to play Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly on an original PS2 today, your eyes might actually hurt. The game targets 60 frames per second but rarely hits it. Most of the time, you’re chugging along at 15 or 20. It feels heavy. It feels slow. This wasn't because the PS2 couldn't handle the graphics—it was because the code was catastrophically unoptimized.
The collision detection was also a total nightmare. You'd charge at a Sheep, and half the time, you’d just clip right through it or get stuck in a wall. For a platformer where precision movement is everything, that's a death sentence.
Breath Abilities: The One Good Idea
Despite the glitches, the game did try to innovate. Sorta.
In the original trilogy, Spyro just breathed fire. Maybe some ice or bubbles in specific power-up gates. In Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly, the developers introduced the multi-breath system. You had Fire, Ice, Electric, and Bubble breath. You had to switch between them to solve puzzles or catch those elusive dragonflies.
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- Electric Breath: Great for powering up machinery (and looking cool).
- Bubble Breath: Literally just for catching the dragonflies. It felt a bit clunky.
- Ice Breath: Standard freezing mechanics.
The dragonflies replaced the eggs or orbs from previous games. Ripto is back—because of course he is—and he messes up a magic spell, scattering the dragonflies across the realms. It’s your job to get them back. The problem is that the "AI" for these dragonflies was often broken. They would fly into walls or hover out of reach, forcing you to reload the level just to get a completion mark.
The Music Saved the Experience (Thank You, Stewart Copeland)
There is one thing nobody can complain about: the soundtrack. Stewart Copeland, the drummer for The Police, came back to compose the score. Even if the game was crashing every twenty minutes, the music was immaculate.
Copeland has a very specific style. It’s percussive, weird, and incredibly catchy. Tracks like "Dragon Realms" and "Luau Island" still have that classic Spyro vibe. It’s the only part of the game that feels "finished." Without his input, the game probably would have lost its identity completely. It’s the one string connecting the PS1 masterpieces to this glitchy mess.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Game's Failure
A lot of people blame the developers, but the real villain was the deadline. Check Six actually had some talented people, but you can’t build a 3D open-world platformer in twelve months with a small team. Not in 2002.
Also, the GameCube port was somehow even worse. You’d think the extra power of the GameCube would help, but it actually introduced more bugs. There were literal "holes" in the map where you could fall into an endless gray void.
Interestingly, the game actually sold well. It went "Greatest Hits." This is the tragedy of Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly—it sold enough to prove the brand was profitable, but it was bad enough to kill the momentum the series had built. Fans felt betrayed. They expected the polish of Year of the Dragon and got a tech demo.
How to Actually Play It Today (If You Dare)
If you have a morbid curiosity and want to revisit this game, don't just dig out an old disc.
- Emulation is your friend. Using an emulator like PCSX2 allows you to force the game to run at a stable framerate. It doesn't fix the glitches, but it makes the movement feel less like Spyro is swimming through molasses.
- The Fan Patches. There is a dedicated community of Spyro fans who have actually modded the game. They’ve fixed collision issues, restored some cut dialogue, and improved the loading times.
- Speedrunning. Believe it or not, this is a popular game for speedrunners. Why? Because it’s so broken. You can skip massive chunks of the game by "glitching" through walls. It’s actually more fun to watch someone break the game than it is to play it properly.
The Long-Term Impact on the Spyro Franchise
After this game, the franchise was in a tailspin. We got A Hero's Tail, which was actually much more stable and decent, but the "magic" was fading. Then came the Legend of Spyro reboot trilogy, which turned the game into a combat-heavy brawler. Then, finally, Skylanders.
It took nearly 20 years for us to get the Reignited Trilogy. When Toys for Bob remade the original three games, they purposefully ignored Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly. It’s the black sheep of the family.
But honestly? There’s a charm to it.
It represents a specific moment in gaming history where the industry was transitioning. It shows what happens when corporate greed meets ambitious developers who just don't have enough time. If you can look past the 30-second loading screens and the framerate drops, you can see the "ghost" of a great game underneath. The level designs were actually pretty creative. The "Honey Marsh" level had a great atmosphere. The "Monkey Forests" felt vast.
It just needed another year in the oven.
Actionable Next Steps for Retro Fans
If you're looking to scratch that Spyro itch without the frustration of Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly, start with the Reignited Trilogy. It’s the definitive way to experience the character. However, if you are a completionist who must play every entry, stick to the PS2 version over the GameCube one. It’s slightly more stable.
Check out the "Documentary" style videos on YouTube by creators like Babbito or The Gaming Brit. They go deep into the code and the history of Check Six Studios. Understanding why the game failed actually makes playing it a lot more interesting. You start to notice the "seams" where they had to cut content. It turns a frustrating game into a playable museum of early 2000s development struggles.
Don't expect a masterpiece. Expect a mess. But sometimes, messes are more interesting than perfect games.