Maybe this is just my perspective as a Nintendo child speaking, but the games catalogue of Insomniac Games always fascinated me from a distance for how...underdiscussed their games seemed to be, despite being regarded as classics. There's absolutely a vocal fanbase for Spyro, and an even more vocal fanbase for their later hit series, yet it was never quite one I was able to get a grasp on the consensus of - there was an understood agreement of quality yet never one true point to really anchor it down. And I hate to be part of the problem, but now with first-hand experience under my belt, I think I get what they mean: The original Ratchet & Clank manages to be a great game despite never truly excelling in any one area of design.

I try, with any game I play, to understand the objective and intent of the designers and artists behind the game during my time playing it - to reach a sort of agreement upon which to draw my analysis. This is part of why platformers are some of my all-time favorite games - their intent is usually immediately understandable as soon as you're given control. Mario is a toybox - games with a character able to do many things, with levels often made purely around the lowest common denominator, yet with a moveset sparkling with potential for freedom of expression. Sonic is a training ground - a set of mechanics that oft feel unwiedly and difficult to use properly, yet one with boundless potential for faster, yet faster times, with a ranking system always at the ready to push you to your absolute limits. Donkey Kong and Crash are an obstacle course - characters with dead-simple mechanics placed in contexts that ask the utmost of your capabilities as a player, of your mastery of every little interaction between the character and their world, with bountiful rewards given to those who can go the extra mile. Yet in my time demoing the original Spyro the Dragon, this sort of distillation felt damn near impossible to get done. Spyro could move fast, yet his levels lacked incentive to utilize it to its fullest. He could breathe fire, jump and glide, yet there's rarely more asked of you to do than those basic actions in isolation. And as I was playing, trying to think of yet one more think to note down...the level I was in had already ended.

And that's when it clicked for me - the secret ingredient.

The absolute greatest achievement of Ratchet & Clank, beyond its distinct art design, immaculate music, charming character writing and thematic core, is that a fast, steady pace is prioritized above all else. Ratchet & Clank, much like its dragonic ancenstor, doesn't truly push the envelope in any one particular area of its gameplay - its gunplay is simple, its jumps and platforming are not much more than fit-for-purpose, and its mobility is never one to truly let the player run freely about. Yet none of what Ratchet & Clank tasks its players with accomplishing ever takes long enough to where one would begin longing for more. Enemies can be defeated as quickly as they appear, and their deaths are punctuated with the oh-so-satisfying sounds of bolts - hard cash in the Ratchetverse - whizzing into the lombax's pockets. Atop every hill lays a new visually distinct, breathtaking vista - and after just four or five of those, you've circled back to your ship, seen a funny cutscene with entertaining dialogue, and gotten a new weapon or mobility upgrade. Particularly with the weapons, there's always something to draw your attention - "maybe I could try the Visibomb here?" "These enemies are all bunched together, maybe the Walloper would be funny to use here?" "Ooh, if I use the Mine Glove and then Taunter, I can draw enemies into the mines!" It's not so much that these creative options for combat are required nor rewarding to solve, but that it all adds to the feeling of the game always having stimulus of some sort at the ready.

It's easy to liken its constant sense of progression to a Metroidvania or RPG, but it althesame feels immensely befitting of the narrative the original Ratchet & Clank tells. The duo are an odd pair in this one, going from somewhat neutral on one another to bickering to becoming more genuinely trusting of one another, yet the everpresent constant that drives the dynamic is Ratchet's own hot-headedness, not in any way moronic yet always leading thoughts with the trigger rather than the brain. The easy comparison to make here would be toward Sonic the Hedgehog, yet for as much of a go-getter as he is, I've always had the impression that he's fully capable and willing to slow down and assess situations inbetween sprints: he's never been restrained in his life and knows when its okay to take it slow. Ratchet, meanwhile, is excited to finally be off his home, finally getting to see the world and let it guide his ship on his first real adventure - he never stops to chat or befriend anyone for longer than what's needed. It feels like a reflection of the game's own pace and structure, as if the environments we explore aren't necessarily seen in their entirety, but only in the pieces that Ratchet himself is willing to go through before being ready to hop off to the next fun world. The persona of a determined delinquent scrapyard mechanic also obviously lends itself further to the combat, as it never stops feeling exciting to mow down fools with the arsenal at your disposal.

If Ratchet is emblematic of the sheer sense of tempo, aggression and power given to the player throughout the game, then I suppose Clank represents the opposite aspects - the details that are easily missed, almost asking one to slow down to be fully appreciated. The absolute scale, atmosphere and visual detail of a world like Metropolis, the effects and animations of every gun and enemy, the differing architecture and sense of culture from planet to planet...though its a world that you can easily and quite enjoyably breeze through, its also one that doesn't shy away from letting the player smell the roses at their own leisure. I feel like this balance seeps into upholding just about every part of the game - the cutscenes are both funny because of the snappy and outright excellent dialogue, yet watching attentively can alert the player to so many little intricacies of how the universe and its people operate. How much a character like Captain Qwark says about the status, importance and exploitation of celebrities, how full-scale warfare sort of just happens in the background in several of the game's planets without any true sense of panic or surprise expressed by its inhabitants - as if its just part of their everyday lives to expect the world to turn upside down at the whims of their rulers. And crucially how, despite being a mechanic and a rebel in spirit, Ratchet remains subservient to a capitalist system - his collected scrap isn't material to craft weapons on his own accord, but currency for purchasing weapons as goods. Like your average punk-rock song, Ratchet & Clank knows, criticizes and shouts about the system that's restraining them, yet relishes in that rebelliousness as an aesthetic moreso than committing to serious discussion on the topics raised. It has important things to say and messages to be dissected by its players, yet the aforementioned Ratchet half of the game sees to ensures that such discussion never bogs down the game's pure intentions of being a fun video game for too long - what fun is punk-rock if you can't enjoy listening to it?

Put rather bluntly, Ratchet & Clank can often feel like a game of many half-measures: much like Spyro its influences are clear to see yet its commitment lays uncertain. Yet all of it is wrapped in an aesthetic, structure and pace that sparks of confidence, a pair of voices shouting at you to always keep going fast yet to also always appreciate the detail and care of the world. And though there are times where those two voices feel thoroughly at odds with one another, for a surprising amount of the runtime they truly do harmonize into an experience that kept me hooked.

Though I may not love Ratchet & Clank, the game feels as if it is truly in love with itself, and I can't help but find that admirable.

[Playtime: 14 Hours]
[Key Word: Rapidfire]