A complete tonal whiplash after the sugar-rush pop of Rayman 1. I felt a degree of uncertainty, and could already tell within the first five minutes as the opening cutscene revealed that ROBO-PIRATES FROM DEEP SPACE had ENSLAVED the entire population of Rayman’s world and destroyed the HEART OF THE WORLD, that this game was going to exude quite a different atmosphere. And to this day, I’ve never quite seen another game replicate the exact atmosphere of Rayman 2. From dense, lush fairy tale forests to abyssal, skeletal caves where zombie chickens abound (yep, you heard, zombie chickens - actually more terrifying than the name might imply, particularly to an impressionable 9 year old!), to subdued coastlines and ancient abandoned temples, the world feels LIVED, feels much, much older than the characters inhabiting it. It’s the jarring hopelessness of a magical, fantastical world being invaded by an unstoppable, inhuman force – and the design really makes you feel this quite palpable sense of dread...of things being off...or damaged... or sickly, in a way which is sometimes difficult to pin down. Like a childhood nightmare, half remembered, but still gnawingly unsettling. Also buoyed by a sometimes catchy, often melancholic soundtrack, which again mixes fairy tale, tribal and robotic rhythms, sometimes within the same level, to augment this morbidly beautiful atmosphere.
It IS like playing through a child's nightmare in places, even though the game is mostly a lot of fun with its puzzle-platform dynamics. The combat seems tacked on, though: shoot at enemy until enemy falls down and, annoyingly, some enemies have a cooldown/invincibility window where you must wait before lobbing another energy fist-beam pellet at them. I mean, it only seems fair given that Rayman also has the same invincibility cooldown, but it does lead to a bit of aggravating waiting around during fights and turns them all into the same dance: dodge, shoot, wait, dodge, shoot. There are "bosses" which slightly eschew this pattern, but whatever. Does a game like this even need combat? asks the reviewer, tentatively waiting for the onslaught of dissent.
More complaints? Sure, I got ‘em. The camera, while not a massive dealbreaker in the sense that it can be stiffly controlled to some limited extent, still swings around obstacles rather awkwardly, sometimes getting stuck on terrain if Rayman’s too close. On the other hand, there are some cool shots where the camera will automatically zoom out as Rayman walks out of a dank cave to reveal a sizeable coastline or traversable vista, giving a much wider scope to the world. Certain platforming segments also have their own bespoke camera angles, usually to the benefit of the player. In fact, I wondered if a fixed camera for each corridor or gauntlet would be more beneficial, but then you’d lose some of the sense of wonder the world wants you to feel.
Although the game is quite linear, it still makes you want to stop and take it all in. The texture work and the environments and the art in general is vibrant and beautiful. Michel Ancel, the creator of Rayman and the director of Rayman 2, once commented on his love of Studio Ghibli, and in particular, My Neighbour Totoro, as a heavy visual inspiration for his own designs. And you can definitely see it in the more forested areas – the kind of almost impressionistic artwork where a flat vegetation texture can suggest a tree or forest far more evocatively and artistically than a real tree would in some way. There’s an artistic cohesion to the world, and hats off to the designers for straddling the line between the natural and the uncanny so subtly.
More about the game itself? Sure, if you insist. As mentioned, this is a relatively early 3D platformer, mainly focused on jumping and occasionally the odd scrap. There are a handful of other mechanics too, such as riding on the backs of missiles like horses (yep) or water-skiing and swimming. The levels are somewhat varied, although they typically fall into ‘forest’, ‘coastline’, ‘ancient temple’ or ‘pirate ship’ categories. You traverse these levels, free creatures from cages and collect Lums, which are pieces of the exploded heart of the world, which must also be collected in order to unlock certain gates in the level-select hubworld, although in truth I was never short on the Lum requirement at any point, which is why accusations of a collectathon nature are rather unfounded here. Yes, you can go for 100% and collect all the cages, lums and see all the bonus levels, but I never felt an imperative to do so and still felt I had a rollicking great time.
It IS like playing through a child's nightmare in places, even though the game is mostly a lot of fun with its puzzle-platform dynamics. The combat seems tacked on, though: shoot at enemy until enemy falls down and, annoyingly, some enemies have a cooldown/invincibility window where you must wait before lobbing another energy fist-beam pellet at them. I mean, it only seems fair given that Rayman also has the same invincibility cooldown, but it does lead to a bit of aggravating waiting around during fights and turns them all into the same dance: dodge, shoot, wait, dodge, shoot. There are "bosses" which slightly eschew this pattern, but whatever. Does a game like this even need combat? asks the reviewer, tentatively waiting for the onslaught of dissent.
More complaints? Sure, I got ‘em. The camera, while not a massive dealbreaker in the sense that it can be stiffly controlled to some limited extent, still swings around obstacles rather awkwardly, sometimes getting stuck on terrain if Rayman’s too close. On the other hand, there are some cool shots where the camera will automatically zoom out as Rayman walks out of a dank cave to reveal a sizeable coastline or traversable vista, giving a much wider scope to the world. Certain platforming segments also have their own bespoke camera angles, usually to the benefit of the player. In fact, I wondered if a fixed camera for each corridor or gauntlet would be more beneficial, but then you’d lose some of the sense of wonder the world wants you to feel.
Although the game is quite linear, it still makes you want to stop and take it all in. The texture work and the environments and the art in general is vibrant and beautiful. Michel Ancel, the creator of Rayman and the director of Rayman 2, once commented on his love of Studio Ghibli, and in particular, My Neighbour Totoro, as a heavy visual inspiration for his own designs. And you can definitely see it in the more forested areas – the kind of almost impressionistic artwork where a flat vegetation texture can suggest a tree or forest far more evocatively and artistically than a real tree would in some way. There’s an artistic cohesion to the world, and hats off to the designers for straddling the line between the natural and the uncanny so subtly.
More about the game itself? Sure, if you insist. As mentioned, this is a relatively early 3D platformer, mainly focused on jumping and occasionally the odd scrap. There are a handful of other mechanics too, such as riding on the backs of missiles like horses (yep) or water-skiing and swimming. The levels are somewhat varied, although they typically fall into ‘forest’, ‘coastline’, ‘ancient temple’ or ‘pirate ship’ categories. You traverse these levels, free creatures from cages and collect Lums, which are pieces of the exploded heart of the world, which must also be collected in order to unlock certain gates in the level-select hubworld, although in truth I was never short on the Lum requirement at any point, which is why accusations of a collectathon nature are rather unfounded here. Yes, you can go for 100% and collect all the cages, lums and see all the bonus levels, but I never felt an imperative to do so and still felt I had a rollicking great time.