Penny’s Big Breakaway is a great game buried under a litany of conflicing design choices. I’m going to get those out of the way first because there’s a lot of originality and fun to be had underneath the lack of polish.

A recurring issue early on in my playthrough was falling off platforms with destructible cans on them. I instinctively mashed Y to break the cans, only to dash off the edge of the platform. That’s because whenever Y is pressed twice in quick succession, Penny will dash. Platforms with cans close to the edge were the only places I consistently dashed off a platform. This was so bad I got into a habit of rhythmically tapping Y to break these cans without dashing, something that could have been avoided if the cans were removed or if the dash had its own button. I’m undecided on which option I would prefer, as it didn’t take me that long to get accustomed to the controls.

What I can say for certain is the control options are antiquated as hell. Only two button layouts, one of which pointlessly removes button actions from the other. The absence of an option to remap actions to different buttons is a HUGE oversight because of how unique Penny’s toolkit is. The fact Evening Star didn’t add more control options, but did spend a month patching in a “performance mode” on Switch that doesn’t even allow for consistent 60 FPS is absolutely inexcusable.

Collision detection can be wonky. I hear it was much worse before patch 1.2, but I still clipped through level geometry over half a dozen times during my playthrough. The camera actually works well when speedrunning these levels, as it always points in the direction you need to go. Occassionally, however, it pulls itself back far enough that judging depth is unnecessarily difficult, which isn’t helped by Penny’s drop shadow only appearing when you’re close to the ground.

Exploring is another mixed bag. If you forget to collect something and want to backtrack, you’ll have to do it without being able to see where you’re going. The d-pad or right stick only allow for about 30° of camera rotation in either direction. Not once did I find a use for these half-assed camera controls. Many levels also have wide-open sections that suggest secrets around every corner, but are revealed to be barren. While this makes sense for a limited camera, I have to wonder why all this extra space was added in the first place? Not being rewarded for your curiosity discourages exploration for the side quest NPCs and hexagon tokens (Star Coins), which isn’t fair because exploration is sometimes required to find them. In fact, if coins had more utility beyond assist items, they could have been placed throughout these open sections to justify their size.

The busker bonuses are stupid. I haven’t met a single person who likes QTEs in a platformer, so why they are here is something I will never understand. Even if you somehow don’t mind these, Evening Star decided to use a diamond icon for the Switch face buttons (A,B,X,Y). If you’re playing with Joy-Cons like me, it’s easy to mistake that with the d-pad buttons since they share the same layout. To make things even more confusing, the d-pad buttons can be used for the analog stick inputs. What they should’ve done instead is specify the face button prompts, or better yet, removed these quick-time events and just gave out a score bonus based on how high you landed on the pedestal. lt wasn’t long before I was intentionally flunking most of these bonuses so I could get a move-on.

That brings me to my final issue of Penny’s Big Breakaway: the awful scoring system. When starting out, I was consistently falling way short of the target score. At first, I chalked this up to poor play. Then I played the third Star Globe level. Near the end I accidentally threw the yo-yo at a nearby obstacle. It split into smaller pieces that proceeded to collide with each other and it generated a huge score bonus. I ended up bombing the busker bonus afterwards, but still came incredibly close to the target score. I tried the level again, this time breaking as many large obstacles as possible, and I ended up annihilating my goal. That got me thinking about how I acquired combo points in previous levels simply by chaining Penny’s moves together. During my playthrough, I wasn’t concerned with finishing the level as quickly as possible because I wanted to complete every side quest and find every hexagon token. I went back to 1-1 to see if I could grind the necessary point amount by simply dashing, swinging, double jumping, and rolling around at the beginning of the level. Once I got to the end and beat the target score, I shook my head in disbelief. To score high in Penny’s Big Breakaway, a momentum-based platformer, you are actually discouraged from building speed in favor of monotonously repeating the same move combos you will be executing throughout the whole game. On top of that, the levels never tell you what the score target is until the ending fanfare. The target score doesn’t even show up on the select screen, even if you have beaten the level. As such, I implore anyone interested in chasing these to Google them ahead of time so you only have to play the levels once. It’s immensely frustrating because the levels actually do allow for high mobility and completing all of the side content in a single run. If they went full Pizza Tower and scored you based on how many tokens collected, side quests completed, and final clear time instead of how many tricks you performed, this would be a fantastic scoring system. All of the puzzle pieces are here, but Evening Star neglected to put them together.

Wow, those are some heavy criticisms, so what exactly makes it worth playing despite all that? I’m glad you asked!

The best part of Penny’s Big Breakaway is the moveset. Penny doesn’t control like other platforming mascots. She can dash, spin in the air, swing on the yo-yo like a grappling hook, and roll forward like a pinball. All of these moves can be used once in the air before landing and preserve forward momentum. Dashing for a quick burst of speed so you can follow it up with a carefully-timed swing to hurl Penny forward, then spin in the air for additional distance, and finally carry all that momentum into a roll should rank among gaming’s best jump combos. You really feel like the trapeze artist Penny is shown to be in the intro cutscene. Undoubtedly the most distinct implementation of physics-based movement in a 3D platformer since Sonic Adventure.

Backing up this movement is extremely solid level design. Outside of a few disruptive gimmicks like pull switches, golf balls, and slippery ice, it’s abundantly clear Evening Star spent a lot of time ensuring that speedrunning these levels would be a blast. I can’t say I recall a lot of levels individually, but neither were there any I outright disliked. One of my favorite aspects of each level is the ramps. Like the classic Sonic games, they create a natural transition between platforming challenges while also providing opportunities for experienced players to gain considerable height for speedrunning and reaching certain secrets. The unlockable Star Globe levels were also fun. These short gauntlets push level gimmicks much further than the main story, to the point I wouldn’t have minded if the whole game was like that. They feel similar to the secret courses in Mario Sunshine. There’s even a few mechanics borrowed from Galaxy to great effect, like the dash pepper, boulder roll, and helicopter spin. The music is also good, though there should have been more of it. I got sick of hearing the same track 3-4 times in a row during most worlds. Tee Lopes’ work on Sonic Mania proves he has great sound sensibilities, so it’s a pity he hardly got to stretch that muscle for this project.

Evening Star appears to have put most of their effort in the places where it matters, as this is a very original product. Expecting this to be similar to Sonic just because the designers got their big break with Mania would be an insult to their talent. The quirky movement and consistent level design is a combo rarely achieved in 3D platformers. It breaks my heart that some design elements feel at odds with one another, which is why I can’t quite place it in the pantheon of all-time greats. Still, this is a well above average game. On top of nailing the most important elements of the genre, it carves out its own niche in the process, in 3D no less! For that, it gets my personal recommendation.

Run ‘n Gun-a-thon — Part 5

Alien Soldier is probably the best foundation for a run ‘n gun. The boss rush element of Contra: Hard Corps is taken to its logical extreme, meaning the action is nonstop chaos from beginning to end. Treasure made a bold, but brilliant decision to give each weapon an ammo limit that automatically refills when unequipped, which can also be expanded between most levels. This ensures you can’t stick to one gun unless you devote more weapon slots to it. Such a strategy isn’t very viable on SUPERHARD, as you only get three continues. Speaking of which, play on SUPEREASY for your first run. It’s almost identical to SUPERHARD, but with unlimited continues.

A staple of run ‘n guns is allowing the player to feel like a badass and Alien Soldier is no exception. Epsilon-Eagle has four weapon slots, a parry that can also recover health, an invincibility dash that deals tons of damage at full health, a jetpack because why not, and the ability to switch firing modes at will. Parrying bullets feels euphoric every time and I appreciate the dash rewarding you for taking minimal damage.

All of that’s great, except the weapons themselves are incredibly underwhelming. There are only six of them, and their functions are as generic as it gets. Rapid fire, close-range flamethrower, spreadshot, homing fire, rapid laser, and shotgun laser. Compare that to Gunstar Heroes letting you combine two weapons out of a possible four, allowing for 14 different shot types. Some of these were definitely more useful than others, but you could still beat a boss no matter what weapons you were carrying. In Alien Soldier, certain weapons flat out don’t work on some bosses, or are so ineffective at dealing damage you might as well ignore them. Figuring out the best weapon for bosses boils down to a boring game of Simon Says and then memorizing the solution for future playthroughs. I don’t mind some memorization, but the problem is that the rapid fire and spreadshot are the worst guns in nearly every situation. They suck at dealing constant damage due to most bosses having weak points that are difficult to reliably hit without homing fire, only vulnerable for short bursts (use shotgun laser), or so easy to hit that other weapons can get the job done faster (flamethrower or rapid laser). Do the classic Contra games force you to use the spread gun to beat a boss? No. You can finish them with the basic rifle if you want to. Weapons should have moments were they shine brighter than others, but it should also be possible to emerge victorious even if you are carrying the worst weapon. If Alien Soldier was designed like that, the ammo upgrades between levels would be much more fun to play with.

Even if the gunplay was more flexible, the bosses would still need to be high quality. Those of you who played the game will probably disagree, but Alien Soldier has the most pathetic lineup of bosses I’ve ever seen in a boss rush. Most have a maximum of two attacks that are very easy to dodge. With the right weapon, they will die in about 30 seconds. How did Treasure think this was okay?! Fighting bosses is the whole game! Even the minibosses on the way to bosses in Hard Corps often had several different moves requiring different reactions. It’s no coincidence the best boss is a rematch against Seven Force, and even this falls short of his original Gunstar Heroes incarnation. More moves and/or phases for the other bosses would have made a tremendous difference.

Man, I was looking forward to playing Alien Soldier after hearing about its amazing boss rush design and inspired character abilities. I wanted to love it, but the more I struggled to write this review, the more I realized how much I was ignoring how empty the experience left me despite some promising ideas. As fun as it can be to create fireworks by blasting enemies, I felt little while playing half the games in this marathon beyond some momentary thrills. That is likely just me wanting more out of the games I play. Now that I’ve experienced more run ‘n guns, I’m going to replay Cuphead and give it the review it deserves. If you are still reading this, thank you for listening to my eccentric tastes!

I have a lot of respect for 16-bit Square, and not just because they elevated the standard for video game stories. They also experimented with how to tell stories. Character-specific story paths in Trials of Mana, time-traveling shenanigans in Chrono Trigger, and parodying the genre in Super Mario RPG, just to name a few. These titles were the byproduct of an era when RPGs were no longer glorified enemy gauntlets, but before story was emphasized above all else. In the 1990s, gameplay and story shared a steadfast union.

Live A Live is cut from that same cloth, choosing an anthological approach for its storytelling. If you buy this expecting a singular plot revolving around a party of likable protagonists that grow together, you will likely be disappointed. Like any anthology, it’s about multiple self-contained stories tied together by a common theme. For Live A Live, the theme is the human condition. I will briefly discuss each story in the order I completed them, so for those who want to play it, consider this your spoiler warning.

Imperial China
— A shifu seeks to pass on his knowledge of kung fu to a worthy student. This is a solid premise and you are able to choose which of the three students will succeed the shifu. I went with Lei because I liked the idea of a female kung fu master and her former life as a bandit allowed for some compelling character growth. The story does unfortunately encourage favoritism among your students since the two with the least EXP will perish. It makes the shifu feel less virtuous than the writers clearly intended. Still, I enjoyed this chapter.

The Distant Future
— A robot receives a first-hand witness of human nature aboard a space ship. Clearly taking inspiration from Alien and 2001: A Space Odyssey, albeit with mixed results. The fear factor of both classics is nailed perfectly with eerie sound design and a brave decision to remove combat encounters. The dialogue is solid, but the overarching plot is an uninspired hybrid that neither breaks new ground nor puts a compelling twist on these stories. Play this for the atmosphere.

Twilight of Edo Japan
— A shinobi sets out to rescue a prisoner that could bring stability to feudal Japan. Simple premise, but I think that was intentional. The gimmick here is that you can avoid combat as much as possible or kill everyone in your path, almost playing like a proto-Undertale. There’s different rewards for playing one way or the other. The pacifist route nets you a great item for the shinobi and rewards exploring the palace in general, whereas the neutral/genocide route lets you have the most fun with the combat. There are enemies that must be killed no matter what path you choose though, and I wish this was communicated better. There are also obscure conditions that must be met for achieving the pacifist ending, so don’t feel guilty about consulting a guide if you choose that route.

Present Day
— A Japanese pro wrestler wants to become world champion by learning all of his opponents’ fighting styles. Starts out as a tribute to Street Fighter, ends with a poignant warning about the burden that accompanies sports champions. I do wish there were more than seven battles to sell that message though. You are told in the intro cutscene that your character is one of the best wrestlers in the world and I’m supposed to believe that simply because he works out every day? What was his journey to becoming a professional like? What kind of person is/was he? The story runs away from these questions and all seven battles took me less than an hour to complete. That includes the time I spent replaying one fight because I didn’t get a chance to learn all of his moves. On the bright side, the gameplay-to-cutscene ratio is the highest of any chapter. There’s practically zero downtime between battles and you learn new moves at such a brisk pace it alleviates some of the repetitiveness inherent to the combat system.

The Near Future
— A teenage orphan named Akira gets tangled up in a conspiracy threatening to eliminate his home town and the world beyond. A great story if you ignore the blatant similarities to Akira (the anime). I do believe the characters are far more likable and fleshed-out here though. Reading the minds of civilians using Akira’s powers adds a lot to the worldbuilding without relying too heavily on cutscenes.

Prehistory
— A caveman and his gorilla friend set out to rescue a princess from a rival tribe. Despite the absurdly basic premise, everything is told through cavemen grunts and pictographs instead of formal dialogue. It leads to a lot of slapstick humor that I loved watching unfold. This is in no small part to the excellent animations and voice samples. I’ve been trying to pick just one song to represent each chapter, but both the cave and battle themes bang so hard I have to make an exception.

The Wild West
— A gunslinger defends a hopeless town from outlaws. Great idea, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. Setting traps would be a lot more interesting if you weren’t told what each civilian was best at. Not trusting the player to form their own strategy is bad enough, but the timer is also very generous. You should have no issue grabbing every item and setting up all possible traps well before the eighth bell, requiring you to wait out the remaining time. Why won’t the civilians help you pick up supplies either? If I was in their position, I would want to help defend the town as much as possible. Had Square implemented more trade-offs when assigning tasks or if the player had to infer an ideal strategy from civilian conversations, this could have been an amazing and highly replayable chapter.

The Middle Ages
— A hero must rescue a princess from the clutches of evil. A tale as old as time and the traditional gameplay reinforces that. No gimmicks, just random encounters as you build your party. You defeat the boss of Archon’s Roost and assume it’s over. Wait a minute, the boss didn’t explode into red mist. Oh gosh, we have to escape! I won’t spoil the rest, but the plot becomes wild after the halfway point and nicely sets up the events of the final chapter.

Dominion of Hate
— This is where all the storylines converge. The true ending is satisfying and the final boss rush is a great challenge, but I could have done without everything else. Despite being the longest chapter, there’s no story until the end dungeon. The preceding character dungeons are annoying speed bumps that don’t serve any purpose beyond containing each character’s ultimate weapon. Why would Odio have such weapons in his domain anyway? Also, who thought the title screen music was appropriate as a recurring battle theme? It’s a fine song, but hearing that opening orchestral section at the start of EVERY random battle is agonizing!

In short, most of these stories are solid, if not great, but I do see why some RPG enthusiasts dislike it. A 25-hour anthology with nine different chapters that contain their own stories gives you less time to connect with each cast. Your enjoyment is going to hinge on how important that is to you, as well as the gimmick each chapter employs in relation to combat. The combat itself is very unique for a JRPG, utilizing a grid arena for attacks like you’re playing Fire Emblem. It does sadly devolve into spamming ultimate attacks by the end of the game, as very few enemies have high damage resistances to those moves. The core foundation was solid though and I think this system would be great if enemies could resist your ultimate attacks more often or if there was a much longer commitment period for said attacks.

I had a good time with Live A Live. Not my favorite RPG by Square, but it’s so distinct that fans of the genre would be well-advised to check it out.

Run ‘n Gun-a-thon — Finale

Cuphead is like going to a high-class buffet. So much variety and attention to detail that newcomers and hardcore run ‘n gunners will have a great time. It is more Alien Soldier than Contra in that the bosses are the main course instead of linear shooting galleries. The six run ‘n gun levels Cuphead does have were apparently added late in development, and it shows. Enjoyable, but short and unmemorable compared to the bosses. They do deserve credit for having the player shoot and platform, a combination that later run ‘n guns abandoned, often to their detriment. Should Studio MDHR design more stages using the core shooting mechanics in a sequel or spiritual successor, I have faith they could knock it out of the park.

The presentation is PHENOMENAL! The artists absolutely didn’t need to spend a decade of their lives animating every single character by hand, but they did it anyway! No game looked like this in 2017 and I doubt we’ll see another look-alike anytime soon. Grandpa jazz was also a perfect choice for the music, even if I can’t recall most songs that aren’t the introductory barbershop quartet.

The audiovisuals alone are worth the price of admission, but that Cuphead is also brimming with battles that are creative both mechanically and thematically is something only run ‘n gun experts could pull off. I’m not exaggerating when I say the boss lineup is the best I’ve seen in the genre. Every pattern is a joy to learn and gawk at. Observant players will notice how bosses often layer multiple simple attacks over each other to create challenge. A good example of this is one of my favorites: Captain Brineybeard. In the first phase he alternates between shooting pellets and summoning one of three sea creatures: a shark, a purple octopus, or rabid dogfish. He continues these attacks in the second phase, but the ship also begins firing cannonballs in a straight line. Oh, and you have to dodge these attacks with an angry barrel hovering over the arena. It’s overwhelming at first, but all of these attacks cover specific parts of the arena and are spaced out enough to where dodging is possible even if you don’t equip the smoke bomb. Studio MDHR understands what made classic run ‘n gun bosses fun and nearly perfects them.

That said, there’s still room for improvement. No fatal mishaps here, just small wrinkles I noticed upon replay:

— Each boss requires parrying three times, using six super meter cards, having three hit points, and beating the target clear time to get a perfect rank. However, the target clear time is never revealed during the results screen. Seems like an odd omission.

— The super attack for the plane battles gives you i-frames after impact, but there are no i-frames after performing the kamehameha super during the regular battles. Not sure what the logic behind this was. Attacks sometimes materialized and intersected with Cuphead after I had activated the super. These are moments of unavoidable damage. Just one second of i-frames after the super would have made a world of difference.

— The foreground occassionally obstructs incoming attacks, which can lead to damage the player could not anticipate even with proactive play. The flying skeleton miniboss in the King Dice gauntlet is the worst offender.

— The simple difficulty option is a nice way of allowing players to prepare for the regular version of bosses, but the difficulty of certain fights doesn’t match up with their placement in the game. The brutal Grim Matchstick fight is on isle 2, while the easier Sally Stageplay and Werner Werman are on isle 3.

— Some bosses on individual isles can’t be accessed until you’ve beaten others. I don’t see a need for this. Specific patterns are going to pose a greater challenge for specific players and letting them choose their boss order per isle would have been much more encouraging to git gud since all of them must be conquered on regular difficulty.

— Cala Maria’s petrification spell doesn’t compliment the narrow arena, spike bars, and poison bubbles in her last phase. More often than not, I would get petrified right in front of a hazard, meaning there was absolutely no opportunity to avoid damage. This phase would work a lot better if the petrification spell was removed or there was more room to maneuver.

— The last phase of Dr. Kahl’s Robot lasts a little too long and the bullet patterns are very similar to Wally Warbles’ feather attack. Feels tepid compared to the excellent first phase, where you can plan a strategy for disassembling each robot part.

— The Devil’s snake attack in phase 1 pushes you to the left or right edge of the screen, but the little devils in the background often enter the arena using the same edge you are forced into. Because of the limited space, it was a coin toss whether I could avoid their contact damage.

— Mortimer Freeze’s snowball charge in phase 2 will either travel in a straight line on the ground or in an arc above you. The former requires a jump and the latter requires staying in the center. The problem is that the animations for both of these variations look incredibly similar and happen too quickly to reasonably process the correct response. I don’t know how anyone is supposed to reliably dodge this without the smoke bomb.

If critiquing Cuphead requires nitpicking, then it did a job well done. Play it. Play the DLC. You will have one hell of a time!

At a glance, Dynamite Headdy is like other generic platformers of its time. No momentum, extremely simple moveset, and a smorgasbord of one-note power-ups. But I’ll be damned if it isn’t the best of its kind! Much like Donkey Kong Country, Headdy keeps its platforming interesting through complimentary gimmicks instead of a dynamic moveset.

Headdy’s signature ability is his, uh, head. It can be thrown in eight directions to attack enemies, grapple onto platforms, and push obstacles. The best comparison I can make is Ristar, another acclaimed Genesis platformer. I do think Treasure cranked more potential out of this mechanic though, for two reasons.

First is the levels themselves. Dynamite Headdy could have easily lost its head here, as there are puzzles and combat to contend with on top of platforming. Because everything interacts with the throw, however, nothing feels convoluted. When you come across a suspicious object, your instinct will be to head-throw, and this is used to silently teach all of the head’s applications. Ristar struggled to achieve this balance for me. It relied on puzzle-solving too often and pole-grabbing as the primary means of platforming became repetitive due to little escalation in challenge beyond putting some spikes on one side. Combat was better, but it only got to shine during the bosses at the end of each world, of which there were just seven.

Second is the head power-ups. Ristar wishes he could do a quarter of the things with his hands that Headdy can do with his noggin. A hammer head with increased damage, a three-head split that increases range, a bomb head, heads that attack everything around Headdy, and a sleep head that restores health, just to name a few. Some got more attention than others. The vacuum head is really lame for instance, but a majority are useful when available. They shine the brightest during the bosses, some of which have extremely creative designs, like the baby face that reveals older faces as you shoot it to death.

The bosses also prove that nobody understood the Genesis hardware better than Treasure, with awesome rotation effects, a huge amount of color, and HIGH-QUALITY VOICE SAMPLES?? HOW DID THEY PULL THIS OFF?! Any other 16-bit game attempting this would have had to compromise SOMETHING, and yet Dynamite Headdy is dripping with detail! I adore the stage play motif as well. Platforms are held up by wires, health is represented by a spotlight, goons shuffle props and rotate cranks in the background, levels are spread across multiple acts, and, of course, a curtain introduces each level. In the Western version, level names were changed to movie puns. Sometimes I roll my eyes at such jokes, but some of these, like “Stair Wars”, “Terminate Her Too”, and “Spinderella” are so clever I can’t not chuckle. The charm is through the roof.

With how much joy Headdy provides, you have to wonder why it doesn’t touch most players’ lists of best platformers of the era. I do have a couple theories. The first is the difficulty of the Western version. Like many games of the time, the challenge was ramped up to an absurd degree to prevent players from finishing the game in a single rental session. Here, the default continue amount was reduced from two to zero, some bosses received a health buff, and the story dialogue was completely removed. This is a fair criticism given I was only able to beat the Japanese version, which is thankfully accessible via the Sega Genesis Classics Collection. As such, I implore anyone to play that version when starting out. It’s fair while still being challenging.

The second is that the skill ceiling is not very high. Many levels are setpiece-driven and there’s a fair amount of autoscrollers present, diminishing the speedrun incentive. Personally, I think the autoscrollers were handled extremely well as there’s always obstacles demanding of your attention. The speedrun arguement has some merit, but if the only good platformers in existence are speedrunner-friendly, then why do we respect slower platformers like classic Mega Man, Castlevania, or Mario Galaxy? I like different types of platformers, and Headdy deserves to be mentioned alongside the fat plumber, blue hedgehog, and brown gorilla as peak platformers of the era. Grab it on Steam for dirt-cheap if this sounds up your alley!

What makes them go? It is nothing else than the principle of the man who has the reason for being.

Playing Ikaruga is like witnessing the beauty of the universe: arresting beyond mortal comprehension, yet something we seek to touch regardless. Every second of play is a second of graceful enemy formations unleashing equally bewitching bullet patterns. Switching polarities is genius with how it tempts players to power the homing laser against their instinct to flee from danger. The outrageous difficulty does unfortunately mean I can only admire the artistry at a distance. The dexterity it demands goes well beyond my paltry capabilities as a human being. I cannot see myself trying to conquer it without infinite lives, let alone achieving a decent high score. I tremble before its trials, yet they mesmerize me all the same.

Complexity and depth are two words frequently mentioned when talking about action games. Some even use them interchangeably, but this is a misconception. Complexity refers to the total number of actions a character can perform, whereas depth refers to the total number of applications possible from said actions. This distinction is important because complex movesets do not automatically have more depth than their simpler cousins. Let’s imagine for a moment a game where pressing A, B, X, or Y leads to a kick with slightly different windup times. The slower the kick, the more damage. There’s some depth with the low risk vs. reward of fast kicks and the opposite with slow kicks, and its technically complex because four buttons on the controller are being used, but is there really a need to have four slight variations on one attack? I would argue no. And yet action games, especially those from Platinum and recent Capcom titles, often resort to such excess in their combat design. In Bayonetta, for example, you are incentivized to change your combos to get better scores, but when the overwhelming majority of said combos merely hitstun foes and have imperceptible variations in damage output, I question why all of these combos are necessary. Brutally slaughtering foes in numerous ways is all fun and games until you realize these attacks look different instead of playing different.

Prioritizing combos via complex button sequences is a pursuit of diminishing returns, especially with game controllers now having (arguably) perfect button layouts. So it’s surprising that the studio who popularized combo-based action would evolve away from that. Astral Chain has only one button for attacking and three weapons: a blaster with weak damage, a fast baton with average damage, and a slow gladius with high damage. Pretty basic so far, but then the Jojo Stands Legions come in. Once unlocked, these can be summoned by pressing ZL and boom, you have a combat ally. Where it becomes interesting is if you hold the button, you can use the right analog stick to direct them around your vicinity, giving you real-time control over what enemies the Legion attacks. When coupled with a grappling hook-esque jump that pulls you to your Legion’s current location and a solid enemy roster, the dynamism of battles expands considerably. Every Legion having its own weapon and movement speed guarantees they serve some purpose. Them being tethered closely to your character subtly encourages staying close to enemies to temporarily bind them with the titular chain and pile damage together. It’s a very creative and methodical type of combat.

I have only two issues with the execution. The first is that the Axe Legion isn’t unlocked until late in the game, giving you less time to learn and upgrade its abilities. The second regards sync attacks. If certain conditions are met, your character will briefly glow, at which point you can press the summon button to unleash a powerful Legion attack. The problem is that you don’t consistently have i-frames or stun foes when performing these, meaning you’re liable to take damage when used against agile aggressors. It feels sloppy and Platinum appears to agree given they granted i-frames to sync attacks in Bayonetta 3, whose evolved combat clearly took inspiration from this title.

Outside of the combat, I’m ambivalent. Playing as a police officer, the detective work in the first half feels appropriate, but the interactions are extremely barebones. Most of these are about finding out information on a threat I was already expecting. Even if I didn’t know what was coming, I wasn’t even punished for failing to piece the clues together. I had no desire to replay any of the chapters because on top of them frequently overstaying their welcome, you can’t skip to the combat challenges. This was a problem in previous Platinum titles, but their non-combat gameplay was usually over with quickly. Another issue is a slight overabundance of RPG systems. The Legion skill trees are fine, but minor upgrades to your weapons and Legatus unit for summoning Legions is overkill. The less developers have to worry about number balancing, the better, so I don’t get why Platinum insists on including these.

Speaking of balance, the difficulty spike in the finale is insane! I played on hard difficulty (Pt Standard) and the final boss killed me more times than every other fight combined! Its moveset is great, but its colossal healthpool makes the ordeal feel like an optional superboss instead of a main story climax. It’s almost unthinkable an actual superboss exists.

The music is very good. Emergency fills me with adrenaline and Task Force Neuron is the perfect tune to hear after a long chapter. None of them compare to the Astral Plane though. Not since Twilight Princess have I felt both fear and excitement when entering a new realm. It was always a bummer when I had to leave it because of the hauntingly beautiful atmosphere. This made exploration and fighting chimeras even more fun than it already was.

Astral Chain is good. It offers a compelling argument for less complex movesets in action games and is a miracle in combat design. Platinum made controlling two characters at once intuitive. The fun is not always there, but it is fresh and I wouldn’t expect anything less from the 3D kings of the genre.