A beautiful, masterfully crafted piece of macaroni art. Fun, but don't be rough with it or look at it too closely.
The game is a very good demonstration of what Sony's newest console can do. If you had told me 15 years ago when I was playing the PS2 games at a friend's house that Ratchet and Clank would not only continue this far as a series, would still be made by Insomniac instead of the IP being sold off and going multi-platform, and would be one of very few high production-value exclusives for the PS5, I would not believe you. To me this feels like if Jimmy Neutron was still getting a big budget theatrical movie every few years. The use of the controller's adaptive triggers is at worst satisfactory, and at best makes standard the kinds of inputs that all the dozens of people who like the Steam controller praised it for.
The core mechanics are strong, a massive improvement over the 2016 movie-tie-in game. Everything in the previous game felt completely weightless, controlling Ratchet was like controlling a cursor; playing the game for the first time over half a decade ago I wondered if it would feel better with a higher framerate, trying out the first few levels on PS5 quickly gave me the answer (no). The camera movement still feels like its velocity is unusually high but that's basically my only complaint. Standard jumping and shooting feels great, and the multiple kinds of dashing give movement both in and out of combat so much more flair. The standard dash is the only time I can think of where a 3D game uses the kinds of trailing after-images seen in games like Symphony of the Night, and the R1/L2 dash is able to cover so much ground that I was shocked when I realized it wasn't limited to the wide, flat level where it is introduced. There are times where it feels both refreshing and somewhat absurd that a game with this amount of visual polish and movielike story presentation can be allowed to control like a classic PlayStation game.
It's always sort of telling to me that something is off when a game has something very unique on its title screen. An obvious and common example is when a game prominently features a button that takes you to a digital storefront, though a game like Sephonie giving you a direct link to a walkthrough right from the get-go is also pretty informing about what sort of priorities the game was made with. I've seen games that have speedrunning options before, but Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart is the only game I've ever seen feature them in such plain sight, instead of burying them deep in the settings menu. The philosophy is no secret, this is a game that expects you to blitz through it.
The game encourages such fast-paced engagement with its core content, both by its mechanical speed and set-piece oriented linear segments as well as narrative urgency, that I got about halfway through before I realized that there was anything optional or hidden in the game at all. Many of the levels begin as a much more linear sequence, either because certain elements haven't populated the area yet, or because the game doesn't give you a necessary traversal ability until later. Though, even on a revisit, there's only so much opening up that can be done for some levels; the underwater laboratory is a particularly egregious example. The first visit provides some extreme urgency in the form of an Alien-esque monster stalking the halls, meaning the player likely develops a tunnel-vision preventing them from finding anything optional on their initial run. Coming back to this level later, it hasn't changed much at all other than allowing the player to go through it at their own pace. Finding a collectable in the deepest parts of this area is still going to require the player to take the whole loop around.
What's with that "zurpstone" side mission? To get one of the collectables you need to break 60 purple rocks in one of the early levels. A lot of them are up high, on towers and hills that seem inaccessible. After getting half of them, you get the option of flying around the area on a dragon, but the dragon can't actually damage the stones. After you get 45 of them, the dragon can breathe fire and break the rocks, and you get a piece of NPC dialogue saying "oh yeah I forgot to tell you earlier..." so it's not like they forgot to explain this to the player, they meant for this to be hidden information, and that's... stupid? What's the intent there? Did they want players to uselessly try to climb a mountain, having no idea that they should direct their attention elsewhere until they get every single other rock?
The game is surprisingly buggy for how otherwise polished it appears. At least once per level I found myself either dying or getting stuck due to broken collision. In one of the arena missions, enemies just stopped showing up and I had to reload from checkpoint. Character chatter often seemed to reflect a completely different context than what was going on; I can't be certain that all of these were actually errant but it sure felt like it. At one point, after doing one of the Glitch missions (interesting coincidence) the game didn't actually give me the reward, and instead had me do another, different mission at the same terminal. Later in the game I found the final Glitch terminal, but the reward was already sitting out in the open.
The character dialogue is just unbearably, sickly sentimental. You'll be doing your regular scrimblo bimblo bouncehouse funtime and your silly big-eyed robobuddy will ask you why you don't fear the future. Everyone feels like a member of one of those online "support groups" that turn into gossip circles as soon as the wrong person steps out of line, it all feels excessive and disingenuous. Some late twist reveals throw a wrench in the works but get resolved so quickly that I'm not sure what the point was. Kit is the only character who really has a recognizable arc, but I'm not sure what it's in service of or what really changed, was it a matter of self control or of learning to take risks? I don't know.
Relatively minor spoilers ahead, the bad guy loses at the end, shocker. The premise of the game is that Dr. Nefarious bridges the gap between dimensions to find a universe where he always wins. This is where most of the game takes place, and for basically every story beat this rings true. Nearly everything that could go wrong for our heroes does go wrong. It might seem that the story is being set up to be about perseverance or the power of friendship overcoming impossible odds, but that's not really what happened. Having all but conquered his own world, the alternate universe Emperor Nefarious falls victim to his own hubris, and decides that he must also conquer the universe that Ratchet, Clank, and Dr. Nefarious are from. This is, obviously, not the universe where Nefarious always wins anymore; sure enough, who delivers the final blow on the Emperor? Not Ratchet, Rivet, Clank, or Kit, but Dr. Nefarious. From start to finish the story is driven almost solely by the antagonists.
You can get a keyblade and make the money look like rupies, so that's neat.
The game is a very good demonstration of what Sony's newest console can do. If you had told me 15 years ago when I was playing the PS2 games at a friend's house that Ratchet and Clank would not only continue this far as a series, would still be made by Insomniac instead of the IP being sold off and going multi-platform, and would be one of very few high production-value exclusives for the PS5, I would not believe you. To me this feels like if Jimmy Neutron was still getting a big budget theatrical movie every few years. The use of the controller's adaptive triggers is at worst satisfactory, and at best makes standard the kinds of inputs that all the dozens of people who like the Steam controller praised it for.
The core mechanics are strong, a massive improvement over the 2016 movie-tie-in game. Everything in the previous game felt completely weightless, controlling Ratchet was like controlling a cursor; playing the game for the first time over half a decade ago I wondered if it would feel better with a higher framerate, trying out the first few levels on PS5 quickly gave me the answer (no). The camera movement still feels like its velocity is unusually high but that's basically my only complaint. Standard jumping and shooting feels great, and the multiple kinds of dashing give movement both in and out of combat so much more flair. The standard dash is the only time I can think of where a 3D game uses the kinds of trailing after-images seen in games like Symphony of the Night, and the R1/L2 dash is able to cover so much ground that I was shocked when I realized it wasn't limited to the wide, flat level where it is introduced. There are times where it feels both refreshing and somewhat absurd that a game with this amount of visual polish and movielike story presentation can be allowed to control like a classic PlayStation game.
It's always sort of telling to me that something is off when a game has something very unique on its title screen. An obvious and common example is when a game prominently features a button that takes you to a digital storefront, though a game like Sephonie giving you a direct link to a walkthrough right from the get-go is also pretty informing about what sort of priorities the game was made with. I've seen games that have speedrunning options before, but Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart is the only game I've ever seen feature them in such plain sight, instead of burying them deep in the settings menu. The philosophy is no secret, this is a game that expects you to blitz through it.
The game encourages such fast-paced engagement with its core content, both by its mechanical speed and set-piece oriented linear segments as well as narrative urgency, that I got about halfway through before I realized that there was anything optional or hidden in the game at all. Many of the levels begin as a much more linear sequence, either because certain elements haven't populated the area yet, or because the game doesn't give you a necessary traversal ability until later. Though, even on a revisit, there's only so much opening up that can be done for some levels; the underwater laboratory is a particularly egregious example. The first visit provides some extreme urgency in the form of an Alien-esque monster stalking the halls, meaning the player likely develops a tunnel-vision preventing them from finding anything optional on their initial run. Coming back to this level later, it hasn't changed much at all other than allowing the player to go through it at their own pace. Finding a collectable in the deepest parts of this area is still going to require the player to take the whole loop around.
What's with that "zurpstone" side mission? To get one of the collectables you need to break 60 purple rocks in one of the early levels. A lot of them are up high, on towers and hills that seem inaccessible. After getting half of them, you get the option of flying around the area on a dragon, but the dragon can't actually damage the stones. After you get 45 of them, the dragon can breathe fire and break the rocks, and you get a piece of NPC dialogue saying "oh yeah I forgot to tell you earlier..." so it's not like they forgot to explain this to the player, they meant for this to be hidden information, and that's... stupid? What's the intent there? Did they want players to uselessly try to climb a mountain, having no idea that they should direct their attention elsewhere until they get every single other rock?
The game is surprisingly buggy for how otherwise polished it appears. At least once per level I found myself either dying or getting stuck due to broken collision. In one of the arena missions, enemies just stopped showing up and I had to reload from checkpoint. Character chatter often seemed to reflect a completely different context than what was going on; I can't be certain that all of these were actually errant but it sure felt like it. At one point, after doing one of the Glitch missions (interesting coincidence) the game didn't actually give me the reward, and instead had me do another, different mission at the same terminal. Later in the game I found the final Glitch terminal, but the reward was already sitting out in the open.
The character dialogue is just unbearably, sickly sentimental. You'll be doing your regular scrimblo bimblo bouncehouse funtime and your silly big-eyed robobuddy will ask you why you don't fear the future. Everyone feels like a member of one of those online "support groups" that turn into gossip circles as soon as the wrong person steps out of line, it all feels excessive and disingenuous. Some late twist reveals throw a wrench in the works but get resolved so quickly that I'm not sure what the point was. Kit is the only character who really has a recognizable arc, but I'm not sure what it's in service of or what really changed, was it a matter of self control or of learning to take risks? I don't know.
Relatively minor spoilers ahead, the bad guy loses at the end, shocker. The premise of the game is that Dr. Nefarious bridges the gap between dimensions to find a universe where he always wins. This is where most of the game takes place, and for basically every story beat this rings true. Nearly everything that could go wrong for our heroes does go wrong. It might seem that the story is being set up to be about perseverance or the power of friendship overcoming impossible odds, but that's not really what happened. Having all but conquered his own world, the alternate universe Emperor Nefarious falls victim to his own hubris, and decides that he must also conquer the universe that Ratchet, Clank, and Dr. Nefarious are from. This is, obviously, not the universe where Nefarious always wins anymore; sure enough, who delivers the final blow on the Emperor? Not Ratchet, Rivet, Clank, or Kit, but Dr. Nefarious. From start to finish the story is driven almost solely by the antagonists.
You can get a keyblade and make the money look like rupies, so that's neat.
Reviewed on Jun 04, 2023