You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/shape-of-the-world.808/

Shape of the World is an odd game. Developed in Unreal Engine 4 by Hollow Tree Games, it describes itself as “A relaxing and interactive escape to get yourself pleasantly lost”. I don’t quite know what to make of it, but I hope my experience will be useful for those on the fence.

Welcome to the World

You start the game in a bright white light, with little to guide you beyond a faint outline in the distance. With no glimpse of instruction nor narrative, I approached, eager to discover what this canvas of a world would evolve into. In the beginning, everything felt slow, almost intentionally so. I found myself drawn into each crevice and cliff face, each rock and sprout; the contrast of definition on this barren screen drew me into progression and motivated me to move towards my goal. As an introduction section, I think it does a fantastic job. It sets certain expectations of the worlds’ growth, and that there is more to see if you are simply willing to look. 

As your near your first goal, you’re presented with what might be described as gameplay. With an unclimbable wall before you and two glowing stones, you must interact with them to create a set of stairs. It’s a pleasant experience that furthers your involvement with the world’s development and gives you a small sense of satisfaction in knowing you’re progressing. At this point, I was excited to see what else the game would do with these interactions. It had started small and simply to introduce its core mechanic; this is what I thought at the time. I wanted to see myself progress through this world through creative and interesting means, to see this simple world explode in a brilliant light of unexpected and simple. In the end, I found myself disappointed. 

Where I had hoped to see interaction escalate, the game gave me the same repetitive format over and over. Here are some stones, touch them to create stairs, follow the stairs for your next gateway and set of stones; rinse and repeat. This cycle grew more and more tiresome as it soon became clear the game’s sense of escalation came from the amount of stones you had to interact with at each destination. It ultimately came across as a means of padding the experience with menial content as the slow movement I previously praised felt like an anchor weighing me down. 

Outside of the repetitive progression, the game prides itself in its procedurally generated foliage and whimsical creations. This is one aspect I can honestly say worked really well. Seeing the world pop up around me, to see creatures appear from the shadows begging for interaction, it pulled me off the beaten path to see what was to be found. It could however only grip me for so long before my slowed pace made each trek feel less and less worthwhile. I could go look at the shining blob in the distance, but the amount of time it’d take to crawl there and back would only serve to infuriate me, in contrast to the relaxing vibes the game strives for. It’s a shame, because the game very much feels like it is there to be experienced; it simply gives you no engaging means of doing so. If you could move just a touch faster, if you had a second jump, if you had a sprint button, a short teleport; none of these ideas would compromise the game’s core themes or ideology, but would make it so much more playable. 

If the slow pace and lack of traditional gameplay and narrative doesn’t put you off, you may yet find some joy in the lush scenic beauty this game puts forward. Progressing through each layer of the world brings with it new foliage and themes, creatures and critters for you to approach and interact with. Each touch brings with it a pleasant sound, putting you at the heart of the world and making you feel a part of it. Even with the game only lasting a few hours for a full playthrough, if this kind of experience helps you relax or de-stress, I can see this game having some value. Shape of the World definitely isn’t a game for me, but it could yet be one for you. 

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/hyrule-warriors-definitive-edition.804/

Originally released in 2014, Hyrule Warriors received mixed praise akin to many a Dynasty Warriors spin off. Ranging from uninspired hack and slash to a fantastic take on the Warriors formula, it had fans of the Zelda franchise split. Being a fan of its original release, I wanted to take a look at its latest iteration, and see whether it can justify an additional purchase.

Welcome to Hyrule

To discuss the Definitive Edition, we must first look at its origins, and at Hyrule Warriors as a whole. Debuting on the Wii U, the game offered up Hyrule’s finest and most legendary as characters in a story that felt like three fans arguing about their favourite game. It was shallow and simple, yet oddly captivating. Through it, we witness an unlikely knight become a hero, a misshapen cast delve into other worlds, and the villain finally being vanquished. It’s fantastically standard, and exactly what I would expect from this style of game. While no literary masterpiece, it provides ample framework to accommodate the plethora of heroes and some good fun in the process. I struggle to gauge the length of the story. With 18 chapters, each with collectables and four difficulty settings, as well as the bonus content provided by the Wii U version’s DLC, as well as the 3DS version’s additional content, there’s plenty to do here. If like me you want to clear everything, you’ll have a road ahead of you; a road that despite its repetitiveness never grew old for me. I played through the game’s story differently to how I had the previous two times, taking the time to explore each chapter and appreciate each level of difficulty before moving on. Numerous play throughs with numerous characters, and yet the same content. I can say with certainty this is not for everybody; and I can say even those who enjoy the game may not find this as alluring as I did. There is however something to be seen from the variety of the cast, the fun of each unique weapon, to keep me coming back so eagerly.

The game’s story is only a single part of the complete package, and a small part at that. Even playing through it as I did, the bulk of the gameplay lies beyond, bringing us to Adventure Mode. Perhaps the most interesting thing here is to realise just how far the game has come since its original Wii U launch. Containing just the Adventure Map, its first release almost feels insignificant. With nine maps of varied difficulty, each containing unique quirks and challenges reminiscent of their associated games, the heart of the Definitive Edition lies here. Across each map, you navigate grid tiles, each containing its own challenge. For completing these, you gain access to more tiles, unlock costumes, weapons, and upgrades, and save each land from their individual woes. There is an almost intimidating amount of content to be found here. While I do find myself a little conflicted on whether it should have all been available from the start, or distributed as a means of rewarding progress, I’m sure players of other versions will be happy to dive straight into their favourite maps.

The final major mode is the game’s Challenge Mode. Notably missing from the 3DS version, it comes in three flavours: Battle Challenge, Boss Challenge, and Ganon’s Fury. Battle Challenges feel like a pleasant blend of the scripted action found in the story, and the varied objectives seen in Adventure Mode. Each of these aspects are turned up with an additional degree of difficulty, as well as a table to track your best score with each character for each challenge. Boss Challenges are similar, but put a spotlight on the game’s boss monsters, requiring a more tactical approach to what would otherwise be a straightforward challenge. I can appreciate what these modes aim to provide; ultimately an additional layer of difficulty to be enjoyed by those looking for more out of the game. I sadly cannot boast an excellent record with these, each of them ultimately feeling a little beyond my capabilities.

Where I did however find great fun is in Ganon’s Fury, the mode that appeared the most controversial in its original release. Allowing you to take the form of the game’s final boss Ganon, you tower above enemies and claw through troves in a way almost unnatural when compared to the rest of the game. There are two ways to look at this, neither particularly wrong. I find brilliant entertainment here; I have an appreciation for overpowered characters and ripping armies to shreds in single attacks offers the satisfaction I come to Warriors games for. This does however come at the cost of repetitiveness; more so than any other part of the game. While being monstrously strong, Ganon only really has two attacks—a claw, and a laser. With the laser leaving you largely vulnerable to attack, you’re ultimately using a single attack for the entirety of the mode. I personally am overjoyed to be able to play this on the go, the 3DS version leaving me wanting more, but its simplistic and watered down nature when compared to the rest of the game is hard to ignore. I would never really call Ganon’s Fury a selling point of the game; if you’re getting it, you’re probably getting it for your more standard hack and slash with a dash of Zelda. Should you find yourself with the game though, I encourage you to try it out. It may or may not be for you, but there was an undeniable joy to be found for myself here.

The Definitive Edition?

I find each of the game’s modes offer ample variation and entertainment to justify the time spent playing them, but much of it is simply content seen in previous iterations of the game. For those who already own both Hyrule Warriors and Hyrule Warriors Legends, you may be left wondering just what this game has to offer you. To be blunt, if you’re happy with playing on the Wii U and 3DS, there isn’t too much. This Definitive Edition is exactly what it markets itself as. As a compilation of each version’s additional content in a single unified package, you know exactly what you’re getting. It’s not to say there aren’t changes, but no single change stands out as reason to purchase it again unless like me you simply desire the best version of a game you already love.

There is one change in particular I’d like to shine a light on. Through my original experiences with the game, I had a single major criticism, this lying within Adventure Mode. I had fell in love with the maps and the challenges, the content to be unlocked serving as a constant driving force. This force however was constantly halted, beaten and abused, as my progress was hindered by the requirement of items. The breakdown of this problem can be summarised to this: to progress through Adventure Mode, you need items; to acquire items, you must beat map tiles. While it seems simple, the items’ random distribution across tiles already beaten soon made each challenge feel old and stale, pulling me away from my eager march of progress. The Definitive Edition quietly fixed this, much to my surprise, with the introduction of an Item Shop. The game now only requires you find an item once, then allowing you to repurchase it from the shop as and when needed. With this small tweak, the lack of save transfer from other versions now seems less significant to me; the task of beating each map again suddenly less daunting and arduous. Aside from this, I noticed no major changes, though it should be said other minor quality of life alterations may have gone unnoticed.

Falling Short

For everything done well, the game is not without fault. Unlike its previous iterations, I was rather surprised to see much of this lie in minor glitches. While it is possible these existed in the other versions, I never witnessed so many in such a short space of time. These varied from advancing the menu selection out of accessible bounds, to cutscenes and enemies not activating, to being warped to the top of one particular level. None of these broke the game, nor ruined the gameplay experience, but each one made me stop and think; wonder exactly what had changed for so many small things to be going wrong. It certainly amused me, but with so many smaller issues, I had an underlying worry something larger and more menacing was lurking within, ready to ruin my day. In this modern age, I’d expect many of these issues to be patched out in the coming months, but it should be noted nothing of what I’ve experienced would be enough to put me off purchasing the game in the meantime.

While not necessarily a fault of this game in itself, I feel it necessary to discuss the 2017 release Fire Emblem Warriors and the impact of it for fans returning to Hyrule, or those looking for more Warriors action after being hooked. There are two areas in particular that took a good deal of adjustment when coming from one game to the other: the lack of skills, and the less intuitive command screen. The latter of these simply stems from this game staying true to its roots, keeping the same style and themes as the previous two iterations. There was never anything particularly bad about the way you can command other units, but in the face of Fire Emblem Warriors’ streamlined and easy to access system, you may be left wanting more. The larger issue comes from the significant difference in pace that comes with the lack of skill system, particularly the lack of Astra. In Fire Emblem Warriors, Astra served as an essential skill, doubling attack speed and making an already frantic and fast-paced game even more so. Once you start using it, you soon find it difficult to go back; and herein lies the problem. Hyrule Warriors has no skills, and by extension, no Astra. If you’ve been deep into Fire Emblem Warriors as of late, the period of adjustment will be difficult and off-putting, but it will pass. If you’re willing to stick with the game for an hour or two, you’ll soon feel at home once more.

Is This For You?

I can say with certainty this is a definitive experience. Compiling everything seen so far into one convenient package, introducing an item shop to limit the potential monotony of Adventure Mode, and at the cost of only a few minor glitches. For a fan of Zelda, or just a fan of some hackery and slashery, I’d definitely say give this a shot. The price tag may seem steep, but for the content associated with each version before it and their associated DLC, it’s more than reasonable, especially if this is your first time playing.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/south-park-the-fractured-but-whole.771/

Just over six months after its original release, South Park: The Fractured But Whole makes a surprise release on Nintendo’s latest system in a turn of events far beyond my own expectations. Oddly without its predecessor, it stands as one of few mature games for the system, but should you be forking out for the portable park?

First Impressions

After getting past the splash screens and general accreditations, you are greeted to a snowy scene of South Park in darkness. With the text “Press A to Start” flashing in the centre of the screen and a score befitting an epic tale such as Skyrim, I found myself eager to start, and a little conflicted on the tone of the game. This intensified as I continued to the main menu. A logo reminiscent of Back to the Future smashed into the top-left of the screen, and a fairly clean and simplistic menu occupying the right, the game feels modern. It feels calculated, and scientific; it doesn’t match the soundtrack. This contrast stuck with me as I started the game, and I soon began to piece together its intent.

Entering into a new game sees you join the fray in an epic battle of kings and wizards, the setting of the previous game Stick of Truth. After a few tense battles as you approach the enemy’s castle, the whole thing is called off to play superheroes instead. It was here I started to give the game its due credit. The epic RPG themes of the title’s soundtrack bled into this opening section perfectly, before soon getting swept aside just as it did moving to the sleek and stylised main menu. These small attentions to detail demonstrated a level of polish and forward thinking I had honestly not expected from what I know to be a crude and straightforward brand.

Character Creation

Before starting the game, you must first create an avatar to use throughout your time in South Park. With a plethora of options and colours to choose from, you should have no issues finding a unique look to play the game with. There are two particularly interesting options here, both rather reflective of South Park in general; these being your character’s skin colour and gender. Making waves when it originally launched last year, difficulty in the game is controlled by skin tone—the darker your skin, the more difficult the game becomes. What elevates this from a normal difficulty slider is Cartman’s narration as you are deciding: “Don’t worry, this doesn’t affect combat. Just every other aspect of your whole life.” This difficulty comes in the form of altered dialogue and interactions with other characters, as well as the amount of money received throughout the game. It shines a harsh light on inequality in a way that may seem out of place in any game other than this.

The character’s gender is notable for the lack of option when first creating your character. While the avatar is fairly generic in nature, I found myself seeing then as a male character, and as it were, so does much of the world once you begin the game. Only a few hours in does it actually ask you how you identify after you approach the school councillor. Should you tell him you’re female, he expresses disbelief, calling your parents to ask about your response. This really stuck with me when realistically it was a minor plot point in filling out details about your character. Its handling of these themes and social ideas were sensitive and critical within the bounds of familiar South Park mockery and humour, allowing for it to feel perfectly in line with the rest of the world.

It’s South Park

What I found most engaging when it came to this game was its parity with the series as a whole. It feels less like a game than it does a long, interactive episode of the show. This is enforced throughout the experience through various means. The most obvious of these is the cutscenes woven throughout the game; they are South Park at its purest, something you look forward to watching as a short break from gameplay. What I perhaps find more striking are the smaller tweaks to make any fan feel at home. From the graphical style as a complete look and feel, to the low-budget and familiarly lazy-looking style of movement; they put forward the essence of the show in a way that almost feels like a natural evolution. Put this with the game’s crude and uncensored line of humour and you have a complete South Park package.

I felt comfortable in the world as I explored, able to pick out landmarks and features from the show. Everything felt crafted in such a way as to spark a brilliant nostalgia whilst pulling it out of my memory and breathing into it new life. While navigating it can at first feel cumbersome, it allows you time to learn the layout before giving you the power of fast travel. Progression through the world and games’ systems flow similarly well, pacing itself in a way to allow understanding and appreciation of each aspect without actively holding your hand nor dragging out the experience.

Strategic Strategy

From everything I played, I found greatest appreciation in the combat system. It features a grid of varying sizes for each battle, where each character uses skills unique to their class to inflict damage over set areas. The system in itself actually feels quite standard, with no particular feature standing out as revolutionary. It put across a fine example of a refined combat system, but this in itself is not where it shines. It’s in the characters where this combat system proves itself unique. In presenting a standard system, the developers were given the freedom to toy with your understanding of it and bend it to suit their needs.

A memorable instance of this was against the Alternate Human Kite, an early boss fight. As he is getting beaten, he decides the fight is unfair, and chooses instead to add rules of his own to cheat. It’s childish, with your ally Human Kite criticising him in the background for this. Through this cheating, he creates new skills, and goes as far as stealing your turn by saying you attacked him while he was taking a break. It’s stupid, and fourth wall-breaking, but brilliant in that is stays within the bounds of the game while doing this. This fourth wall-breaking also occurs randomly in fights happening on roads, the characters occasionally noticing an oncoming car. Seeing this, they react by pausing the fight, moving out of the road, and getting shouted at by the driver. These details stuck with me. They reminded me through the charade of the gameplay, that it is a group of children having fun. It’s a purity I hadn’t expected to see in a South Park game I couldn’t help but appreciate.

Closing Thoughts

A criticism of the game I held throughout playing was the feel of Ubisoft throughout. This feeling is particularly difficult to quantify, but showed itself in small areas. Things like costumes being in my inventory I couldn’t access without being a Ubisoft Club member, or having South Park adverts visible on the main menu. They don’t go far in taking away from the stellar gameplay experience, but they become noticeable. They put a slightly generic spin on the game that could have been mocked by the characters, that could have been woven into the gameplay, but simply weren’t. South Park: The Fractured But Whole remains a game I would wholeheartedly recommend to any lover of the series, or anybody looking for a good laugh, but I can’t help but be a little sad the developers couldn’t toy with their reputation a little more. While I can’t say how it compares to the other versions of the game, the Switch provides a perfect vessel to play without any real drawback; the portable experience was one worth waiting for.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/agatha-knife.769/

Despite being almost a year old, Agatha Knife passed me by relatively unnoticed. Be it because it came from a lesser known developer, or found itself lost in the ocean of Steam’s storefront, I was intrigued and excited when stumbling upon its jump to Nintendo Switch and Xbox One. Lifted from obscurity and pushed into the public eye, does it deserve its place in the light?

The Animals’ Call

Starting the game for the first time, you’re greeted with an upbeat rhythmic horn, soon bursting into a mysterious and enticing title theme. Accompanying it is this story’s protagonist—Agatha. This title screen is simple, and as an odd critique, surprisingly difficult to read. Featuring the handwriting of this blue-haired seven year old, it puts a personal and childlike feel to the game, something echoed throughout. It paints a theme of innocence and unknowing, a stark contrast to the satanic symbolism occupying the rest of the screen. Should you find Agatha’s writing too difficult to read, it should be noted the option is given for a clearer font.

I’m Agatha

A short monologue introduces you to the premise of the game, as well as its restless protagonist. Agatha isn’t quite like other seven year olds; where others may spend time playing games, or reading books, she helps her mother run the family butchers. Out of love, she spends her days playing with the animals as they come and go, and ultimately cuts them up ready to be sold. To an outsider, it may be seen as cruel, sickening even for a seven year old to be doing such things, but to Agatha, it is her nirvana. She loves what she does, but wishes for the animals to share in her passion. With low sales plaguing the butchers, Agatha and mother head to church, in hope an answer lies in faith. 

This setup is perhaps the strangest I’ve seen in recent years. While the overarching problem is quite generic in nature, it thrives because of Agatha. It thrives because the writers so perfectly captured the essence of childhood, innocence, and unknowing, before warping it to fit our blue-haired insomniac. The difficult to read font mentioned previously enforces this further; this is the story of a child, and this fact elevates the narrative far beyond anything I could have anticipated. It allows the writers a certain liberty to remind you just how twisted some of your actions are, amplifying the humour, the quips, and the symbolism. 

Point and Click

The vessel to accommodate this journey into faith is a relatively standard point and click environment. While it took me a few moments to figure out, the controls soon felt natural. Playing with the Joy Cons, you use the right stick to move the cursor on-screen, investigating and puzzle-solving to progress with the story. I felt the control scheme far more natural when playing with the touch screen, but ultimately had no issues using buttons beyond the occasional incorrect press. Everything here is as to be expected; there’s nothing particularly revolutionary, nor does there need to be.

A Short Street and a Big Story

Set on a short street of an unnamed town, the world of Agatha Knife is easy to be drawn into. Rich in pop culture references, it feels familiar, and yet disconnected from any rational sense of reality. It features the unusual as everyday and makes you want to understand just why such a place exists. Each strange element calls out to you, it cries to be understood, to be interacted with. Each place and parody pulls you in further, leaving you hanging on every hand-written text box.

The size of the world is well suited to the game, limiting frustration if a puzzle isn’t immediately obvious. In such a situation, a world too large would present far too many options to investigate and could ultimately drive people away. As somebody who rarely plays point and click games, I ran into this issue a few times, and was swiftly set back on the right path after a minor sleuthing session. If all else fails, the game presents you with one final hint in Awesome Sandro’s fortune telling skills. Though incredibly obscure, they present the same solution as a separate puzzle. I found this an interesting approach, even if I rarely had to use it. 

Overall Thoughts

If you are a person who values a game by how many hours you can play it for, Agatha Knife may not be for you. My playthrough lasting just over four hours, I can see how some may be put off. If you can look past this and judge the game for the story it tells, the experience it provides, I am certain you will not be disappointed. Through its twisted themes and cleverly crafted puzzles, it presents an adventure I am sure will be fondly in my memories for years to come.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/detective-pikachu.757/

Having originally released in Japan more than two years ago as a shorter adventure, Detective Pikachu piqued the community’s interest. As this game was all but forgotten, Nintendo came out of nowhere announcing an expanded worldwide release earlier this year, but was the world ready for a game like this?

An Inspector Calls

Turning the game on for the first time was an entirely different experience to any other Pokemon game. Instead of the usual fluid and colourful introduction to the world, you are greeted with an empty white scenery. As the camera pans outwards, a 13 note melody sounds off repeatedly. This world feels broken and incomplete, and actually goes a long way in building the world of Tim; his journey beginning with his father’s disappearance. The tone feels detached from the rest of the series, and a little unsettling for something I had down as a game for kids.

Starting the game, it was great to see the trend of multiple languages continuing into Pokemon spin-offs with nine available to choose from, as well as both English and Japanese available for voiced dialogue. Something I wasn’t so eager to see was a choice of difficulty before the game began. In games like Fire Emblem, I can see justification for the difficulty to be chosen from the start; it clearly explains the kind of player each setting is targeting, and presents you with the option to lower the difficulty later if it is too challenging. Detective Pikachu offers no real insight into the game beforehand. It gives you no basis for the game’s difficulty, and as such, no idea as to whether you’ll need the hints provided by Easy Mode. I believe the Hint Coin system seen in Professor Layton would have fit the game a lot better, or even making use of the long-since forgotten 3DS Play Coins. While I don’t believe the game is necessarily challenging, walling off the easier difficulty to a decision at the start of the game feels like an ill-fitting design choice.

On the Case

The gameplay is a split of three elements: introduction in the form of cutscenes and dialogue, investigation and interrogation, and then putting the pieces together for a solution. It’s a simple cycle but is executed well, ultimately crafting the feeling of classic detective shows. Both the cutscenes and the conclusion are largely what one might expect from such a game, offering a satisfying lead-in and wrap-up to each chapter. The bulk of each case comes from your investigative skills, and it’s here the game both excels and falls flat.

Investigating is a simple task. Gather evidence, gather testimony, present it, and repeat. When presenting your evidence, you are given a new problem that requires a new solution, which you come to with new evidence and new testimony. This cycle is something seen in Ace Attorney games, the movement and means of gathering evidence in Detective Pikachu actually coming very close to the style of Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth. I believe the game does well in presenting a simplified version of this formula to create a more accessible gameplay experience, but in some areas it goes a step too far, alienating older players. I found myself enjoying a large portion of the game. While the puzzles may have been simple, there was still satisfaction to be found in their solutions—for the most part. The most striking of these moments came from a researcher asking me how the colour orange is made. In an instant, I felt any immersion shatter, and I really had to question just who this game was targeted at.

Hey You, Pikachu!

The standout factor of Detective Pikachu is, unsurprisingly, the Pikachu who is also a detective. At its core, the game is structured in a way to maximise his potential as a character. Be it through physical comedy or detective clichés, his charm is simple and well-executed.

Pika Prompts—short and frequent cutaways from the investigation—stand at the forefront of Pikachu’s success. Each of these, whilst only being a few seconds in length, allowed for a deeper sense of characterisation for what would otherwise be a one-trick pony. Often relying on situational humour, each of these scenes feel simultaneously familiar and fresh, reminiscent of Crash Tag Team Racing’s Die-O-Rama skits. While I did occasionally wish they were a little more optional, instead of Pikachu whispering “hey Tim, look here” until you watch it, I did ultimately find a great deal of enjoyment from them.

Perhaps a shortcoming of the character stems from the fact he is a self-proclaimed “great detective.” While this doesn’t sound like an issue, the game too frequently uses it as justification to spell out answers to the player. This is something seen a lot at the beginning of the game, but is still prevalent throughout. Similarly to its Easy Mode, it might have been nice to have had a Hard Mode, easing up on some of these explanatory interactions, and adding consequence to incorrect assumptions.

At its forefront, Detective Pikachu is a game for children; a relatively entertaining and well-presented detective experience. While I did find enjoyment in it, the constant reminder of “you’re too old to be playing this” goes far in breaking immersion. Should you be a parent looking for a simple and fun game for your child, I might recommend picking this up. For a fan of the Pokemon series? Perhaps wait for a sale.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/the-long-reach.752/

After an unexpectedly loud boom as the publisher’s logo blasts into view, you are met with a relatively standard, yet captivating title screen. Featuring an ominous background track and a selection of unclear security camera images, it’s difficult to avoid a feeling of anticipation going into the game. Just what lurks beyond these monitors, and just who is watching them? Eager to answer these questions, I selected new game, and waited. And waited. And waited a little more. Loading times are something I rarely notice, whether they fly by or distract me with a model to look at, or a puzzle to solve. The Long Reach fell short in this respect, and it really emphasised just how long I was waiting. With the initial load of a game spanning up to 50 seconds, it goes a long way in killing the atmosphere built by the title screen. Once you’re past the initial load, the game thankfully runs flawlessly, with little delay between screen transitions.

The controls for the game feel a little unrefined in places, but overall provide a suitable means of experiencing what is on offer. A minor annoyance I found came from the graphic showing the controls, marking B as means of selection, and A as means of cancellation. It seemed odd on a Nintendo system, but with it being released on other systems concurrently, I could see some sense in preserving the control layout. This wasn’t the case. The buttons were indeed swapped appropriately for Nintendo hardware, but in doing so, created an awkward situation of the action and run button being opposite each other. Perhaps insignificant to some, but it forced me to embrace the Joy Con with a claw-like motion as I desired to frantically scramble through what the game had to offer.

How the Horror Gets Made

Dialogue and choice are at the core of The Long Reach; the game harbours a mastery of writing, able to jump between tension and humour seamlessly. Featuring 2D environments to explore, you’re encouraged to examine each element of the scenery in intimate detail. Will you discover a useful piece of information? An ominous message? An insightful quip from our protagonist? With so much on offer from every interaction, it’s hard to avoid stopping at every opportunity. Some of the best moments in the game are hidden beyond these orange-outlined events, truly rewarding those who take the time to look around.

An integral part of interaction is using the objects collected to solve problems as they arise. With an inventory system reminiscent of old RPGs, you find yourself excited as you realise the extension cord you found earlier can be used to light up a dead man’s body, or as your most humble of coffee cups lives on as a challis of the ages. The game does a good job in rewarding intuition, and feeds you a reasonable sense of satisfaction as you piece together its puzzles for yourself. As a rather inept person, I found my time with The Long Reach falling into a viscous cycle of frustration, breakthrough, and a new problem arising. The game goes to no length in holding your hand, ultimately leaving you to fend for yourself. It can definitely be frustrating at time, but the way it pulls you back in as you finally manage to get to the solution will keep you coming back for more.

Hiding spots are something particularly interesting when it comes to interacting with the world. Watching your character disappear into or behind cover on a dimly lit hallway sends a message; something is coming. Something is worth hiding from. It hammers into you a feeling of something lurking just beyond the boundaries of the screen, even when it simply isn’t the case. The sight of them paired with the desire to interact with the world works well to build a haunting atmosphere whilst not doing anything noticeably extra as you play.

Sounds in the Dark

Sound in The Long Reach is something to be toyed with, and it goes far in playing with its set of tools. Featuring no voiced dialogue, I found myself initially disappointed as I read through what felt like a wall of text in the opening scene. As I moved through this sequence of events, nothing stood out to me. The world was nice, the dialogue was amusing, but it had no stand out factor. This changed as I picked up the phone and began a conversation. The conversation featured, like much of the game, a series of options, each leading to a different line of dialogue. It was in this conversation it hit me; sounds outside the room I was currently standing in suddenly became audible. The conversation currently in progress became a secondary event as I found myself locked in dialogue, with sounds of upheaval and chaos a fraction beyond my reach. It was here I realised just how well the developers used what they had. The lack of voice acting allows you to draw focus on other aspects of the game, it transforms a well written piece of dialogue into a reason to be cautious and attentive—this especially noticeable when contrasted with the cynical humour woven throughout.

Ambient sounds match the world nicely, creating something that feels ominously close to reality, despite the graphical disconnect. With this ambience, the game utilises visualisation of sound to maintain tension and a sense of urgency. Shown as a white bar from the location of the sound, this visualisation keeps in your mind the possibility of being watched, of being followed through the darkness. After sneaking into a room, you might see sound coming from the other side of the door. Are you being pursued? Is this slow, rhythmic pulse of sound simply that of a dripping tap? Either way, you want to find what you’re looking for, and get out fast.

A Haunted Tale

This game isn’t without its range of curiosities and minor glitches, but I never felt any of these imperfections particularly impactful on the experience. Rather early on when attempting to hide, my character decided to have somewhat of an outer body experience, the camera completely detaching from his hiding body. It was a small error of unknown cause that was rectified by simply interacting with the hiding spot again. As well as this, you have the controls mix-up, and a main menu that for some reason always starts with new game highlighted. These are small issues, however I feel them worth mentioning. Despite these, the game shines through in presenting a beautifully classic take on a horror title; one that I would feel comfortable recommending for fans of puzzles and adventures alike.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/8bitdo-n30-arcade-stick.735/

I didn’t grow up in arcades. I never found the commitment to involve myself in the plethora of quality fighting games released in my lifetime. To me, an arcade stick is something interesting, and something new. With the N30 as my first, I wanted something capable of breathing new life into classic releases, and I was excited to give it a shot.

A Classic Feel

As with any 8BitDo product, the first thing to hit you is the design; needless to say, it’s gorgeous. Before receiving the N30, I was a little dubious on how the classic handheld controller would scale up; it’s a design that has been done to death, and I feel it all too easy to fall into the trap of looking like a cheap knockoff. These worries were thankfully misplaced. The bright red buttons offer a stark and visually pleasing contrast to the natural monochromatic tone of the NES, with the black buttons blending nicely into the shell. If I had to find fault in the design, it would come from the button labels perhaps being difficult to read because of the way the plastic reflects light. This is ultimately a non-issue once you get to grips with the layout. I can understand why this is as it is, going with stylistic consistency for the sake of having to look closer at the controller for the first hour of use.

Each of the main buttons; A, B, X, Y, L, R, ZL, and ZR; feel responsive, activating from even a slight press. Pushing each button down offers little feedback, ultimately feeling softer than I might have imagined pressing. If you’re looking for a new way to play your Neo Geo collection, or Nintendo’s own Arcade Archives series, this is unlikely to be an issue. The buttons still feel satisfying to press, and the layout clearly fits these games.

The black buttons and switches represent various toggles and less important buttons. These include a switch between XInput and DirectInput, Analogue and D-Pad for the stick, and buttons for Turbo, Pair, Select, and a large central Start button. Most of these are relatively self-explanatory in use. The Turbo button is a nice addition to this controller, but I can’t help but think it counter-intuitive to the overall purpose. To me, an arcade stick is fantastic for its ease of button mashing, no longer forcing hand cramps from an uncomfortable claw grip on a normal controller. That said, additional functionality is never a bad thing, and it being out of the way on the top-left means you can easily forget about it should it not interest you. Much like the SN30 Pro, the Start button is used to power on the controller, in conjunction with face buttons to connect to different devices. By now, this feels fairly standard for an 8BitDo controller, even using the same button combinations as the SN30 Pro, providing a degree of familiarity out of the box for long-time 8BitDo fans.

The stick itself uses four switches to register inputs in each cardinal direction, as well as diagonal inputs as two switches are held down at once. For those wanting a general arcade experience, it feels really quite nice. Each directional input felt responsive, with a click as a switch is hit. If you’re after something to spice up your average Switch game, this may not be the controller for you. While the stick can indeed be used as the left analogue stick, being limited to eight directions with no analogue input limits viable games.  It’s in games such as Kamiko, Super Mario Bros, and Phantom Breaker: Battlegrounds where this controller really shines. Thanks to the button layout, a game like Bayonetta can become incredibly enjoyable; but the experience is ultimately held back by the joystick. This isn’t so much a fault of the design, but it’s something people should be aware of if contemplating the N30 with no prior knowledge of arcade sticks.

I found the controller to be weighted quite nicely, much of this weight coming from the underside panel. It’s heavy enough as to feel stable on a table, but not so much you would feel uncomfortable with it on your lap. Overall, I find myself impressed with its build quality and overall design.

A Modern Touch

With the N30 Arcade Stick, 8BitDo boasts a degree of customisation. The unit’s back panel easily unscrewed, you can quickly get to the internals and swap out to your heart’s content. Featuring standard 30mm buttons, and fitting popular Sanwa joysticks, you can make this unit your own. The real joy of this stems from its price point. Being among the cheapest Switch-compatible arcade sticks, it puts itself forward as a fantastic entry-level device. It gives users a chance to test the water before spending heaps of money; and if the experience is one they enjoy, it can be upgraded with standard parts and little hassle.

Being an 8BitDo controller, expect to get your money’s worth with compatibility. Working not only on the Switch, but PC, Android, and MacOS, you have one widely compatible controller without the need for adaptors or fancy setups. From my first time using it, I’ve enjoyed reexploring classic titles across a plethora of devices. While Android support is something I appreciate, I wasn’t able to fully utilise it having only an Android phone. With how simple it is to connect, I can imagine it being a fantastic controller for any reasonably sized tablet. If you’re using this with your PC, you have the option of connecting it via USB using the included 3m cable.

One area I feel the controller poorly designed is its inability to be used while charging. I can only assume it thinks it’s connected to a PC whenever plugged in, completely disabling wireless capabilities. With this in mind, you can only play while charging if you plan on playing a PC game. It’s a minor gripe, and I feel it could be addressed in a future firmware update.

All in all, the N30 Arcade Stick does everything I wanted of it. It put new life into my classic titles, looking and feeling great to use. I see it as a fantastic investment should you be eagerly waiting for Nintendo’s Virtual Console to launch on Switch, with plenty of great games already available to take advantage of its design.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/layers-of-fear-legacy.734/

Having originally released early 2016, Layers of Fear: Legacy puts a fresh coat of paint on the psychological horror, combining the base game and Inheritance DLC for a definitive Switch release. Incorporating many of the hardware’s new features, is the mad painter’s vision any clearer?

The First Coat

Starting the game for the first time, you are greeted with a message. Proclaiming each of your decisions will affect the narrative and comparing the gameplay experience to life itself, it sets an odd tone from the beginning. This message, though something insignificantly skipped for some, had made its presence clear. It puts forward the notion of the game as something to be experienced, not simply observed or played. This message would serve to put weight on my actions, and add responsibility to the consequences.

After such a stark notice of your involvement in the story to come, the title screen feels oddly serene. A well-lit room containing art supplies, accompanied by a quaint and soothing piano melody. It isn’t scary, nor ominous. It’s calming, almost beautifully so.

Switching it Up

Before starting the game itself, I took a moment as I always do to try the touch screen. Despite the menu being by no means optimised for such input, my frantic taps actually did something on-screen. I am the kind of person to appreciate touch controls when I see them, especially for such minor things as menus. It feels intuitive and generally quite pleasant, going a long way in streamlining non-gameplay elements. This appreciation can only take me so far; when the developers were so bold to proclaim the game had been “redesigned to make the best out of Nintendo Switch’s unique features”, I couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed. This isn’t what a redesign looks like; this is an afterthought. An instance the studio sought to release something they could call more than a port without the willingness to make the necessary stylistic compromises. This theme of poorly conceived afterthoughts echoes into almost every one of the Switch’s unique offerings.

Moving past the menus, touch inputs are also supported as you explore the bulk of the game. There are a variety of successful touch implementations in a game such as this; swiping to pan the screen, or simply being able to tap things you can see. Layers of Fear: Legacy went for a different approach entirely. Here, the touch screen ultimately controls your character’s neck. Tapping an area of the screen snaps to a position, the far left of the screen moving the camera angle to as far as your neck will turn to the left. To give due credit, it’s an interesting idea in isolation, but in the larger context of the game, it falls flat. On top of this strange neck movement, the touch screen is also used to interact with on-screen elements. This is where it all really comes apart.

Assume you’re looking directly at an interactable object; the logical assumption is that pressing on it would cause an interaction. This would be the case were it not for the aforementioned camera movement. Pressing on the screen will snap the camera to a different location. From here, you slide your finger across the screen until the object is central again. You then tap the unrelated area of the screen for your interaction. The object has more complex interactions? Want to open a chest, or a door? Give up.

The saving grace for this Switch redesign comes from the motion controls. The ability to open a door by flicking your wrist feels good. Though it can be a little jarring to keep jumping between motion controlled interactions, and analogue stick-controlled camera movement, I believe the inclusion of motion controls does improve the overall experience in a meaningful way. You can also use these motion controls to examine objects, rotating the Joy Con as if you were holding the object. It’s nice as an idea, but the reality of it sees the object erratically rotating with little real player control. Stick to the analogue stick here.

As traditional controls go, Layers of Fear: Legacy is neither revolutionary nor lacking. The movement may seem slow for some, but as I played I came to realise there was no necessity for running. Each footstep feels powerful, rhythmical, as if your heart is beating through the floorboards beneath you. This slowed pace reinforces a feeling of dread as you explore the unknown, reaffirming the knowledge you can’t run away, that you must face your demons.

Finish It

Creeping into the house for the first time, you are presented with an interesting atmosphere. One that whispers of another’s presence just out of sight. A soft piano melody and a woman’s song can be heard on top of the ambient storm outside. The imagery put forward is something that stood out to me, and is worked well into every part of the environment. The painter’s desperate struggle to complete his masterpiece, the voice echoing through the halls soon becoming alien and haunting. The broken promises, the sorrow and isolation, they all shine through so early on in the game; all this amplified as you enter the room with the canvas for the first time. Silence—love and warmth daring not haunt this twisted space.

From this solitary chamber, space begins to distort; the world bending to the painter’s troubled mind. This is where your adventure really begins, the doors you go through and the choices you make ultimately deciding the final form of his magnum opus. As you walk through the corridors of this malformed mansion, familiarity becomes a common thought. While the prologue chapter, the time spent before entering the painter’s room, was short and uneventful, it goes far in setting the scene. It allows you to recognise areas, and feel as though you are walking through you own memories of the mansion. You find yourself delving into your own mind as much as the painter himself.

Progression presents itself as a constant struggle. Do you follow the layout of the house? Do you listen to the writing on the walls? Do you follow a distant sound? These choices feel like the mansion itself is fighting both the mind of the painter, and your own free will. It creates an experience unique to the player, and one they will be able to feel a degree of empathy for, despite the abnormal setting. You feel a strange sense of accomplishment to see your actions lead to a payoff in witnessing the consequences.

Defying Gravity

Where I feel the game truly shines is in its puzzles, and the mind games played for the entirety of the experience. From the puzzle design, to the tricks of the ever-changing hallways, I felt a strong presence of Antichamber. Each corner turned, each message read, I had the chambers of the 2013 hit ever-present in my mind. It’s as though they took the style of Antichamber, slowed it down, threw in some darker themes, and added explorative point and click elements. It’s a strange mix in my mind but when it comes together so well, I have to commend it. Though it does rely on a good number of horror tropes, I couldn’t help but enjoy them as they revealed themselves.

The puzzle design isn’t without fault; two sections completely halting my progress as I played. One such area involved me spending 15 minutes tracking down a ringing phone. In this section, the game presented no clever hint to be noticed, ultimately coming down to examining each part of the room until the solution was brute forced. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but these experiences were few and far between. Calling a friend in to help, the game transformed into something new.

Not So Alone in the Dark

By myself in a dark room, light coming only from the television in front of me. That was how I started playing Layers of Fear: Legacy. It is a fine way to experience any horror title new or old, and is the way many people will. This isolation allowed for the atmosphere to build nicely, and for the tension to really hit me. The jump scares scattered throughout the game never felt unfair, the atmosphere and build up justifying their inclusion. Playing with a friend broke all of this, and I enjoyed it far more than I could have anticipated.

My housemate sat comfortably next to me, this psychological horror was seen in a new light. No longer did I find myself entrapped by the atmosphere; instead standing beyond it, given a new power to examine and dissect it. Each room became an alluring point of discussion; the things that would have haunted me alone becoming a subdued laugh and source of newfound stress. The very nature of the game had changed, each of us waiting on baited breath to see just what the game would throw at us next. I found a great experience from this game both as a player and spectator. Layers of Fear: Legacy is a game you control, to be enjoyed alone or with friends, to laugh at or to cower at.

Inherited Trauma

As previously mentioned, the Switch version of this game comes packaged with the Inheritance DLC; this additional story told through the eyes of the painter’s daughter. In this, you’ll find yourself reexploring the mansion from a new perspective, adding further detail to the story of the painter and his family. Given the base game is relatively short, beatable in five or six hours, this additional content is much appreciated. You can expect to get another two or three hours here following the same kind of tropes and themes you’ll already be familiar with.

While ultimately not an incredibly long game, it goes out of its way to sell you on the experience it provides. If you judge a game by how many hours of content it provides, this might not be for you. Though featuring multiple endings to uncover, you’re unlikely to hit more than 15 hours for 100% completion. If you’re looking for a well-designed horror game to play alone or with friends, at a TV or in the middle of nowhere, I urge you to try it. I wasn’t let down, and I don’t think you will be either.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/bayonetta-bayonetta-2.723/

Originally released in 2009 for the PS3 and Xbox 360, Bayonetta is an action-packed hack and slash game from the now-renowned company PlatinumGames. Having developed for every modern home console since the Xbox 360, Bayonetta + Bayonetta 2 marks their leap to Nintendo’s latest and greatest system; but does the witch belong on the Switch?

Despite being a long-time fan of Devil May Cry, Bayonetta is a series that has long-since eluded me. Having missed its original release, and subsequent Wii U port, the Switch version offers a lifeline; a means of enjoying a game I have heard only wonderful things about. Please keep in mind as you read this I am going into the series fresh; and as such, comparisons to other versions will be limited. I will however be commenting on this game as a new experience; as it may too be for many.

First Impressions

Before so much as reaching the title screen, the game gives us a cutscene, broken and ominous in nature; fragments of Bayonetta’s past thrown at force to show what’s to come. Followed by a simple title screen and a whisper of the game’s title, everything feels old, dated even. Continuing into the menus, the same feeling is only amplified; this clearly isn’t a game from 2018. It doesn’t even feel like a game from 2009. Instead, I’m thrown back to the 90s, timeless releases such as Tomb Raider leaping to the forefront of my mind. It is by no means a bad thing, it’s wonderful in fact. To see a game so beautifully pull off such a bold and dated vibe, whilst not letting it hold it back, truly is a thing to marvel at. It’s as though it aims to impress nobody, wanting to let the content speak for itself—and the content speaks volumes.

Sass and Style

For newcomers and series veterans alike, the opening cutscene is a joy to behold; offering an entirely  different experience depending on your expectations going in. Every element in the scene is captivatingly contrary; the dreary graveyard offset by Enzo urinating on the grave of producer Hideki Kamiya; the heavy funeral tone thrown aside as Bayonetta sheds her pure, religious garbs in a fashionable transformation exuding sex appeal and style. Each and every element of the scene pushes a degree of crazy escalation and unnecessarily choreographed combat to present what feels like a dance of death; our jaded heroine bound by no law nor restraint. 

The effort gone into an adequate portrayal of this witch’s style shines through in every element of her being; and is shown at every possible opportunity. She doesn’t walk, she struts; she commands the space around her. Don’t expect any scene to be presented halfheartedly. Instead prepare to admire and appreciate each action-packed frame before moving onto the next, the game taking moments to pause, allowing you take everything in with freeze frames and slow motion. Of course, this extends far beyond cutscenes alone, bleeding into both dialogue and combat.

If you’ve ever seen or played a Devil May Cry game, you should know the kind of action to expect. It’s fast, furious, and rather uniquely feminine. It pays homage to the style of Devil May Cry, whilst continuing to forge its own unique identity. With a great deal of variation in its combo attacks, and a plethora of different weapons and fighting styles to choose from, the combat is incredibly easy to pick up and find satisfaction in.

Where Bayonetta finds its niche is in Witch Time; a brief moment of slow motion after narrowly avoiding an attack. Allowing you to get in uninterrupted and powerful combos, Witch Time is something you are constantly pushed towards both in and out of combat. As if to train you for imperative moments in a fight, the game presents training sections where you’re forced to enter Witch Time in order to get past obstacles otherwise insurmountable. It’s a neat idea that makes Witch Time feel like more than a last minute thought crammed into the combat system. The very nature of it forces a different style of play to what I would consider regular hack and slash; encouraging you to watch your enemies intently, waiting for an opening. You could say it goes against the core idea of hack and slash, testing your observation skills over your button mashing; I feel this is definitely to its benefit. If you do however find yourself struggling, the game has various difficulty settings, allowing players of all skill level to find some enjoyment.

Matching perhaps every other aspect of the game, the soundtrack is no disappointment. Featuring an assortment of standard, high octane tracks; as well as the masterfully adapted classic Fly Me to the Moon, you are in for an experience both familiar, and like no other. Combat feels like an overly dramatised style monster unleashing her jet black locks onto unsuspecting forces of light and dark; and the role music plays in this is key. Each element comes together flawlessly to forge the experience that is Bayonetta, an experience I’m grateful to have had the chance to partake in.

Return of the Umbra Witch

The second game of the set packs the same initial punch as the first, smacking you with the same fast paced, overly stylish action right out of the gate. Many of my opinions regarding Bayonetta 2 resonate with the original game; it feels like a clean transition from one to the other, maintaining every aspect I came to love. With this transition comes a new classic song seeing the same treatment as Fly Me to the Moon; the similarly lunar Moon River. My thoughts on Bayonetta 2 specifically will be rather limited in this review, as I truly believe the highlights and flaws are shared with the previous game. If you want a more in-depth look at the second game, check out our official review from 2014. 

Naughty Pets

The plot and general tone of Bayonetta 2 feels strangely detached to the mysterious amnesiac tale of the first. The style, the personality, it’s all there; but now with a reaffirmed sense of arrogance and control that is swiftly shattered in the prologue chapter. Far sooner than the original game, Bayonetta is seen facing a colossal foe in a fight so large scale, the game struggled to keep up. The fight was everything I wanted to see in a sequel, but the game struggling to keep up meant regular drops from the targeted 60 FPS. Honestly, it’s not something I personally noticed as I played the first time—the intensity of the fight completely distracting me—but I understand framerate is a big deal for a lot of people. 

A Cut Above

Bayonetta 2 feels like a clear step up from its predecessor, the entire experience feeling more responsive and fast paced. It understands the nuances of the first game and goes to great lengths in recreating the witch’s magic once more. With this in mind, I would definitely advise playing these games in order, so not to feel let down by what is still an incredible experience in the first game.

Of course, the burning question on many a potential buyer’s mind is just how well do these games run on the Switch? I cannot proclaim to be an expert in these matters, but I can tell you both games run at 720p in both docked and handheld mode; and also both target 60 FPS during normal gameplay—staying at a consistent 30 FPS during cutscenes. While I have no experience with previous releases, it appears the games still struggle in the same areas. Bayonetta 2 for example still falls short in the same places as its Wii U predecessor, however performs better in these deviations from 60 FPS. If you go in wanting a consistent 60 FPS, you may end up disappointed. What we have here are games that run beyond the capabilities of the Wii U, and without the tether of a home console. It isn’t perfect, but it also isn’t so bad as to take away from the overall experience. For a more in-depth look at the framerate and performance, check out Digital Foundry’s initial look at Bayonetta 2.

You can find this review in full at GBAtemp.net:
https://gbatemp.net/review/the-longest-five-minutes.714/

Published by the same creative team behind the Disgaea series, The Longest Five Minutes puts forward a new spin on the classic JRPG formula. Aiming to blend time-old gameplay with such a heavy narrative focus, just how much could Nippon Ichi Software fit into this five minute tale of life and loss?

The title screen is a story unto itself. Simple and elegant, it features the heroes in the final hour of their quest gazing off to their final objective—the Demon King’s castle. Paired with a sorrowful and quaint piano melody and an ambient breeze blowing across the pixilated landscape, you have a scene rarely appropriate for the title; one of conclusion. It beautifully introduces you to the idea of the end without giving away significant detail of what is to come, nor what has happened.

Starting the game soon gets you up to date on the heroes’ quest. Scene after scene flashes before you, dyed an aged tone of sepia. The events feel new—they are new, but they’re presented in such a way as to feel familiar. As if one by one, lost memories are revealing themselves; or fond memories are being reduced to nothing. With a new appreciation for the value of memories, this daydream soon comes to an end; an unknown presence appearing before you.

The Beginning of the End (But Also Just the Beginning)

The Demon King? Who’s that? On that note, who are you? Panic and dread soon wash over the hero as he remembers nothing of his quest as it should be coming to a close. What’s your mission? Why are you here? How did you ever plan on beating the Demon King? One after another, questions rapidly race through his mind. With a grand and exhilarating score playing in the background, everything is in place for this final confrontation, much to the confusion of both the player and the hero. Five minutes to finish the quest; five minutes to defeat the Demon King; five minutes to remember your story, your friends, your hardships. This truly is the longest five minutes.

Of course, even veterans of the industry such as NIS can’t fit a fulfilling story in just five minutes of gameplay. While time continues to march forwards in the final boss encounter, our hero Flash Back finds himself thrown into the past, piece by piece putting together the events that lead him and his party to where he currently stands. And this is where the game’s core mechanic lies.

Meet Flash Back

Flashbacks serve as the backbone to the gameplay, providing a classic-feeling RPG experience for the player in a game that is anything but. At set points in the final encounter, our aptly named hero is thrust into his own mind, recalling events relevant to the fight; questions such as “who are the people in my party?” being answered by playing the part of the story where they set off together. While this approach is largely linear, the game does a good job in giving the player freedom to explore within the constraints of the flashbacks. Much akin to classic Final Fantasy games, you are often given the freedom to go the entirely wrong way, walk into the wrong dungeon, fight the wrong foes. Much of this doesn’t necessarily have an impact on the way the story plays out, but such freedom is a joy to see in a game that could be so easily walled off. This freedom aside, player choice is used as means of divergence in an otherwise linear-feeling experience. The outcomes of these choices stood out to me as being surprisingly varied. You want to see what happens if you tell the Demon King you’ll slay your party? Be prepared for the consequences. This element blends seamlessly with the RPG elements to create a sort of visual novel hybrid.

No particular element of the story stood out to me as I played; there was no ground-breaking nor revolutionary plot twist, each part knew its assigned role and stuck with it—perhaps even to the point of cliché. Despite this, the radiant light shined upon these cliched scenes by their presentation transformed even the most mundane and predictable reveal into a revelation for the ages; an uncovered secret. This predictability also has a secondary effect of making you feel as though you’ve seen a number of these events before. It puts forward an experience that feels dated, yet refined. The game presents both the fondest encounters, and strenuous struggles of the heroes’ adventure; all the moments you’ll remember from your childhood JRPG. Nothing feels particularly new—instead coming across how I remember these older games; something I believe to be a greater feat.

Relive, Redo, Reexperience

While the flashbacks do what they aim to well, they complicate a number of standard RPG elements; growth and side quests in particular. Were you to play an average RPG, measuring growth is a simple affair; you level up. You’re too weak to fight a boss? Go fight some monsters and gain experience. You have a simple but effective loop of gratification as you become stronger. It could be argued however this system is flawed. It relies in the player being in a sweet spot of experience; strong enough to deal with enemies, but not so strong as to lack challenge. The flashback system counteracts this in its very nature—after all, you aren’t playing the hero’s story in its entirety. By joining the party at specific moments in the quest, you cut out parts of the experience; for better or worse. What you lose here is a reliance on grinding, and travelling long distances to the next destination. These elements do still exist in the game, but to a much lesser extent than one would usually see in an RPG. As well as the traditional level, which is set by the flashback, you have a secondary Reexperience stat. This is the stat you increase and grow through battles, acting as a buff to the character on top of the true level. This approach gives you the same gratification of levelling up, whilst removing the reliance of it. I never found myself feeling too weak, and yet the Reexperience never seemed to put me so far ahead of the enemies as to make the game too easy.

Side quests still exist in The Longest Five Minutes, but much like the rest of the game, their presentation is altered to fit the flashback mechanic. Instead of being spontaneous and sporadic, they’re listed as bonus objectives, each providing Reexperience for their completion. Despite being a fairly good source of Reexperience, this was never the reason I decided to tackle them. From such simple tasks as talking to lonely old lady, to delivering meals to sailors; these objectives charmed me. They provided depth and life to what could be seen as a stoic world—at least for the most part. Though I enjoyed a great majority of bonus objectives, a select handful stood out for all the wrong reasons; artificial padding to an otherwise lacking flashback. These are few and far between, but true pain cannot be understood without first having to score 20k points on a poorly conceived arcade game.

The Long and Short of It

The Longest Five Minutes works with conventional RPG tropes better than any game I’ve seen before it. If you’ve seen them before, the events feel like a reimagining of any classic adventure, you unlocking these long-since put away memories as the story progresses. Should you be new to the genre, the world, the tropes, the characters, they’ll all seem new, perhaps confusing. It’ll take time to adjust, and you might not understand the gravity of the situation Flash is in. The beauty of this game is that both approaches are equally well thought out, and both allow for a reasonable degree of empathy with Flash. It’s a brilliant concept executed well from start to end.