"First-person puzzle metroidvania" sounds like the sort of thing that there should be a trillion of, so it's pretty wild to me that I can't think of anything that plays quite like Supraland (barring its own followups, I assume). If the game had crashed and burned, and proven the whole idea to be unworkable, that would explain it; instead, it's only made me more convinced that the genre still has plenty of untapped potential left.
The stars of the show IMO are the magnetic belt and connector beam upgrades. They're unique, there are engaging puzzles built around them, and outside of their specific use cases they still do a good job improving your ability to get around. A game having a single powerup that nails this trifecta is a rare and noteworthy thing, and it's doubly impressive that Supraland does it twice. There are also more standard upgrades sprinkled in - double-jump, stomp, gun, the works. Supraland is decently creative with these as well, incorporating puzzle elements that recontextualize them a bit. The color-coding in several puzzles is a good example of the game wringing out extra puzzle potential from its toolkit.
So there's a lot to appreciate about Supraland's design in theory, from far away. Actually playing it, though, doesn't quite live up to all that optimistic analysis. Part of it is the story and writing, which feels like 50% of it was made for people twenty years younger than me and the other 50% was made for people twenty years older. Part of it is the setting, which feels like a half-baked execution of the mini-world aesthetic (which I'm a total sucker for if done right, btw). But most of it is the combat.
On the surface, it seems like there's nothing to complain about here: the weapons feel fine and the puzzle tools usually have neat combat applications. The problem is really in the context that the combat exists within, or rather the lackthereof. There is one dedicated "combat section" in the game that I remember; aside from that, my experience with the game's enemies was me having to put the brakes on exploring or puzzling every twenty seconds to deal with whatever popped out and started harassing me. It is intensely frustrating and puts a damper on the entire game. Not because it's difficult, mind you: each enemy is about as tough and threatening as a mosquito. But hey, so are mosquitos, and I shouldn't have to tell you how aggravating those little bastards are.
I think I remember reading that this was a common complaint and that the followups dialed down the combat significantly. If this is true, it probably represents an improvement, but I do think the system is fundamentally okay and just needs to be integrated with the rest of the game in a more thoughtful way. Certainly it provides a nice excuse to throw a zillion more optional upgrades around the world.
...which leads me into my last note regarding Supraland. I didn't bother going full completionist on this after hitting the credits, but I did look up what was left and was surprised at how many of the upgrades I'd missed sounded decently significant. I didn't miss the stomp, but apparently that is possible. I'm sure some people are going to take that as a negative - "how can the game possibly let me miss actual content so easily?" or some such. I think that's valid, and part of me is a little sad at having missed out on what I did. But mostly I think it's rad for the game to be laid out the way it is; and however bad it feels to miss out on a substantial upgrade, it feels at least as good to open a chest expecting some ho-hum "+2 sword damage" thing only to get something completely unique in its place.
In short: it's okay! If the dev takes the right lessons from it, then Supraworld could end up being something really special. Or Crash and Six Inches Under might have already done that, I dunno. Maybe I'll check them out later.
(okay fine i have one more point: i like the section near the end where they get rid of most of your upgrades but not the connector beam. it's a smart way of giving the beam extra weight and mileage by forcing you to really rely on it in a way you haven't had to before. although they do have to lock you in a sub-area to do it, which is antithetical to the genre and just kind of a bummer)
The stars of the show IMO are the magnetic belt and connector beam upgrades. They're unique, there are engaging puzzles built around them, and outside of their specific use cases they still do a good job improving your ability to get around. A game having a single powerup that nails this trifecta is a rare and noteworthy thing, and it's doubly impressive that Supraland does it twice. There are also more standard upgrades sprinkled in - double-jump, stomp, gun, the works. Supraland is decently creative with these as well, incorporating puzzle elements that recontextualize them a bit. The color-coding in several puzzles is a good example of the game wringing out extra puzzle potential from its toolkit.
So there's a lot to appreciate about Supraland's design in theory, from far away. Actually playing it, though, doesn't quite live up to all that optimistic analysis. Part of it is the story and writing, which feels like 50% of it was made for people twenty years younger than me and the other 50% was made for people twenty years older. Part of it is the setting, which feels like a half-baked execution of the mini-world aesthetic (which I'm a total sucker for if done right, btw). But most of it is the combat.
On the surface, it seems like there's nothing to complain about here: the weapons feel fine and the puzzle tools usually have neat combat applications. The problem is really in the context that the combat exists within, or rather the lackthereof. There is one dedicated "combat section" in the game that I remember; aside from that, my experience with the game's enemies was me having to put the brakes on exploring or puzzling every twenty seconds to deal with whatever popped out and started harassing me. It is intensely frustrating and puts a damper on the entire game. Not because it's difficult, mind you: each enemy is about as tough and threatening as a mosquito. But hey, so are mosquitos, and I shouldn't have to tell you how aggravating those little bastards are.
I think I remember reading that this was a common complaint and that the followups dialed down the combat significantly. If this is true, it probably represents an improvement, but I do think the system is fundamentally okay and just needs to be integrated with the rest of the game in a more thoughtful way. Certainly it provides a nice excuse to throw a zillion more optional upgrades around the world.
...which leads me into my last note regarding Supraland. I didn't bother going full completionist on this after hitting the credits, but I did look up what was left and was surprised at how many of the upgrades I'd missed sounded decently significant. I didn't miss the stomp, but apparently that is possible. I'm sure some people are going to take that as a negative - "how can the game possibly let me miss actual content so easily?" or some such. I think that's valid, and part of me is a little sad at having missed out on what I did. But mostly I think it's rad for the game to be laid out the way it is; and however bad it feels to miss out on a substantial upgrade, it feels at least as good to open a chest expecting some ho-hum "+2 sword damage" thing only to get something completely unique in its place.
In short: it's okay! If the dev takes the right lessons from it, then Supraworld could end up being something really special. Or Crash and Six Inches Under might have already done that, I dunno. Maybe I'll check them out later.
(okay fine i have one more point: i like the section near the end where they get rid of most of your upgrades but not the connector beam. it's a smart way of giving the beam extra weight and mileage by forcing you to really rely on it in a way you haven't had to before. although they do have to lock you in a sub-area to do it, which is antithetical to the genre and just kind of a bummer)