Thirty-five odd years ago, the first Metroid proved that game design wasn't an exact science. Corridors that led to nothing, rooms that looked identical, enemies that could damage you in loading zones. All horrible ideas, stuff that would end up making the game understandably impalatable to the modern tongue, but also important, essential, even, to characterizing a truly hostile world. Later entries in the series significantly neutered this feeling, creating environments that players weren't only comfortable traversing, but staying in for extended periods of time, meticulously collecting every health tank and missile upgrade. It seems apparent that trying to make something genuinely alien will always be at odds with "good" game design, which typically revolves around the familiar, the intuitive, and the satisfying, but it's still a shame that the original Metroid's vision never wound up fully realized.
Until now, that is, and from Adult Swim of all publishers. The Rain World mantra is simple: you don't belong here, this world owes you nothing, and it will give you nothing that you don't take for yourself. You probably won't beat this game, and you definitely won't get 100% map completion. You'll have to excuse the obvious hackery of mentioning both Metroid and Dark Souls in the same review, but it's enchanting the way a first playthrough of Dark Souls is enchanting. A world as harsh as it is beautiful, with the desire to learn more about it your only motivation through its crushing difficulty. But, by comparison, even Lordran offered more kindness. At least, there, stairs were built for your feet and ladders for your arms. There are no bonfires in the rain world, instead your only points of safety constrained, metallic cages, as if complete isolation from the outside world your only true protection from it. Play perfectly for an entire cycle and you still might die to something outside of your control, right before getting to the next shelter. That's bad game design, just like any unfair mechanic is, but Rain World has loftier ambitions than being a well-designed game. Traditionally, unkillable enemies exist to be defeated later in a cinematic, cathartic payoff, but here, predators never stop being terrifying. Neither do heights, neither does the open sky, and neither does rain. Terrain should subtly guide you to where you're supposed to go next, and entrances to new regions definitely shouldn't be unceremoniously hidden in plain sight. We wouldn't want players to miss something important, would we? My only nitpicks come from the few concessions to this mentality. Mainly, the map, which too often serves as a nondiegetic crutch for players to lean on. It's hard to imagine anyone being able to complete the game without it, but that really only reinforces my argument. What's less understandable is the inclusion of the yellow ghosts, which seemingly show up when you're playing badly in order to patronizingly point out food and enemies.
But assessing Rain World's flaws truly puts its monumental strengths into perspective. Because what's possibly more impressive than everything that went right is the sheer amount of things that could've gone wrong. The game could've used upgrades to create a concrete sense of progression, an artificial way to counteract being at the mercy of your environment. The experience could've been cheapened with side characters or a more explicit narrative. If the enemy AI was even slightly more predictable, or the creature design not consistently haunting, then the exhilaration of a chase would've been greatly diminished. If there wasn't an enormously deep bag of tricks to figure out, both regarding how the game works at large and what your character is capable of, then it wouldn't be able to require so much creativity in its minute problem-solving. Things might've gotten stale if every single region didn't have a distinct way to throw you even further out of your element. And none of this stuff would've mattered if each and every screen wasn't individually memorable in how it tests a specific part of your skills, and yet meticulously constructed to feel naturalistic. Locations effortlessly fit together to paint a world where you don't belong, but also one that you can conquer if you're clever, persistent, and lucky enough. As it stands now, Rain World is a supreme balancing act, its resounding success as improbable as the survival of a slugcat in the wild. Undoubtedly one of the premiere achievements of the generation, and, hopefully, one of the most important.
Until now, that is, and from Adult Swim of all publishers. The Rain World mantra is simple: you don't belong here, this world owes you nothing, and it will give you nothing that you don't take for yourself. You probably won't beat this game, and you definitely won't get 100% map completion. You'll have to excuse the obvious hackery of mentioning both Metroid and Dark Souls in the same review, but it's enchanting the way a first playthrough of Dark Souls is enchanting. A world as harsh as it is beautiful, with the desire to learn more about it your only motivation through its crushing difficulty. But, by comparison, even Lordran offered more kindness. At least, there, stairs were built for your feet and ladders for your arms. There are no bonfires in the rain world, instead your only points of safety constrained, metallic cages, as if complete isolation from the outside world your only true protection from it. Play perfectly for an entire cycle and you still might die to something outside of your control, right before getting to the next shelter. That's bad game design, just like any unfair mechanic is, but Rain World has loftier ambitions than being a well-designed game. Traditionally, unkillable enemies exist to be defeated later in a cinematic, cathartic payoff, but here, predators never stop being terrifying. Neither do heights, neither does the open sky, and neither does rain. Terrain should subtly guide you to where you're supposed to go next, and entrances to new regions definitely shouldn't be unceremoniously hidden in plain sight. We wouldn't want players to miss something important, would we? My only nitpicks come from the few concessions to this mentality. Mainly, the map, which too often serves as a nondiegetic crutch for players to lean on. It's hard to imagine anyone being able to complete the game without it, but that really only reinforces my argument. What's less understandable is the inclusion of the yellow ghosts, which seemingly show up when you're playing badly in order to patronizingly point out food and enemies.
But assessing Rain World's flaws truly puts its monumental strengths into perspective. Because what's possibly more impressive than everything that went right is the sheer amount of things that could've gone wrong. The game could've used upgrades to create a concrete sense of progression, an artificial way to counteract being at the mercy of your environment. The experience could've been cheapened with side characters or a more explicit narrative. If the enemy AI was even slightly more predictable, or the creature design not consistently haunting, then the exhilaration of a chase would've been greatly diminished. If there wasn't an enormously deep bag of tricks to figure out, both regarding how the game works at large and what your character is capable of, then it wouldn't be able to require so much creativity in its minute problem-solving. Things might've gotten stale if every single region didn't have a distinct way to throw you even further out of your element. And none of this stuff would've mattered if each and every screen wasn't individually memorable in how it tests a specific part of your skills, and yet meticulously constructed to feel naturalistic. Locations effortlessly fit together to paint a world where you don't belong, but also one that you can conquer if you're clever, persistent, and lucky enough. As it stands now, Rain World is a supreme balancing act, its resounding success as improbable as the survival of a slugcat in the wild. Undoubtedly one of the premiere achievements of the generation, and, hopefully, one of the most important.
5 Comments
Great points, and I think we only really disagree regarding the map.
I don't think unfair design is bad design, only bad game design in the traditional (i.e. entirely mechanics focused) sense. Unfairness in Rain World is great, unfairness in a Mario game or Pac-Man or a hack 'n slash would suck. But then again, "unfair" might be the wrong word to use, since the connotation it gives off is really "anti-fair." Anti-fair, to me, is something like the level design in kaizo-type platformers, where you can get killed by an invisible block that you never could've possibly prepared for. By saying Rain World is unfair, I really mean that it doesn't afford the fairness that nearly every other game does. For example, in the name of fairness you should expose players to new obstacles in a nonthreatening situation before throwing a real encounter at them, but that's not how the real world (or Rain World) works. I totally agree regarding the difficulty, it definitely feels harder than it actually is, if that makes sense. There were points when I genuinely couldn't envision myself progressing ever again, but I ended up getting to the next shelter in fewer tries than I anticipated. I think its reputation as inaccessible mostly comes from the fact that there's really not much like it, figuring out how everything works in those first few hours is particularly brutal.
I don't actually know for sure when the observers show up (hence the "seemingly") so that could be entirely confirmation bias on my part. It's ironic that they're more contextualized than the map, though I didn't mention that in my review because I wanted to avoid anything specific besides the very basics. My criticism of the map is probably more of a criticism towards myself, since I have a tendency to resort to it the moment I'm not sure where to go next in any game. But, yeah, in my eyes, it's the only major part of the game included solely to help players progress, which annoys me. You're make a good point about the tutorial text, I'd forgotten that was even a thing. Ideally that would be combined more elegantly with the observers for the first cycle, and then they would be relegated to a smaller role for the rest of the game.
I definitely find Metroid more interesting than enjoyable, but I'd still say it's worth completing at least once.
I don't think unfair design is bad design, only bad game design in the traditional (i.e. entirely mechanics focused) sense. Unfairness in Rain World is great, unfairness in a Mario game or Pac-Man or a hack 'n slash would suck. But then again, "unfair" might be the wrong word to use, since the connotation it gives off is really "anti-fair." Anti-fair, to me, is something like the level design in kaizo-type platformers, where you can get killed by an invisible block that you never could've possibly prepared for. By saying Rain World is unfair, I really mean that it doesn't afford the fairness that nearly every other game does. For example, in the name of fairness you should expose players to new obstacles in a nonthreatening situation before throwing a real encounter at them, but that's not how the real world (or Rain World) works. I totally agree regarding the difficulty, it definitely feels harder than it actually is, if that makes sense. There were points when I genuinely couldn't envision myself progressing ever again, but I ended up getting to the next shelter in fewer tries than I anticipated. I think its reputation as inaccessible mostly comes from the fact that there's really not much like it, figuring out how everything works in those first few hours is particularly brutal.
I don't actually know for sure when the observers show up (hence the "seemingly") so that could be entirely confirmation bias on my part. It's ironic that they're more contextualized than the map, though I didn't mention that in my review because I wanted to avoid anything specific besides the very basics. My criticism of the map is probably more of a criticism towards myself, since I have a tendency to resort to it the moment I'm not sure where to go next in any game. But, yeah, in my eyes, it's the only major part of the game included solely to help players progress, which annoys me. You're make a good point about the tutorial text, I'd forgotten that was even a thing. Ideally that would be combined more elegantly with the observers for the first cycle, and then they would be relegated to a smaller role for the rest of the game.
I definitely find Metroid more interesting than enjoyable, but I'd still say it's worth completing at least once.
Another point regarding RW's diegesis: I remember hearing Matthewmatosis talk (on one of his streams I think) about how he actually had a problem with the location titles that pop up when you enter a new area in Rain World, logic being that it felt ill-fitting with the game's immersive and diegetic presentation and that the slugcat would have no way of actually knowing the "official" area titles. Personally I don't know if I'd take it that far myself, because it seems to me that at that point you probably should just fully commit and also remove other non-diegetic elements like the rain timer, cycle counter and even the non-diegetic adaptive soundtrack which alerts the player to threats that the slugcat isn't necessarily able to spot. That being said, I still think there's some merit to his idea because a lot of stuff in RW isn't explicitly named. I've heard the lead dev emphasize that slugcats are never referred to by that name in-game. Meaning that it's basically non-canon. So theoretically the area titles could've just been named in some secondary source, like with the creature names, or maybe the playerbase itself would've had to come up with the names for the areas, which might've been interesting.
I don't think I've seen any of Matthewmatosis's streams but I remember him making a similar complaint in his Breath of the Wild review, so it makes sense that it also bothers him here. I guess I don't have much of a problem with it because location names don't really affect the decision making process in any way, though I can definitely see the potential value in the game's mythos being essentially written by those who experienced it rather than those who created it. As far as the other nondiegetic stuff goes, I feel like there's good reasons (or at least reasonable enough arguments) for all of their inclusions. The food meter is a replacement for the feeling of hunger that's not possible to communicate virtually, the clock is there because it's a 2D game so you can't track the position of the sun (although, admittedly, it's much more precise than having to do that would be) and the music serves to create an artificial adrenaline boost, since prey have ways to sense predators even if they can't see them.
yup, agreed on all counts.
baldur
1 year ago
Do the observers show up if you're playing badly? I didn't know that, but I suppose it makes sense. I personally don't have a problem with them, I think the help they provide is vague and of limited enough use not to feel patronizing. I also enjoy how they factor into the narrative, I think they're a well implemented form of tutorialization overall. But I understand viewing them as a concession. I also think the map is well implemented - I don't feel like I rely that much on it, and when I do, I like to think of it as the slugcat retracing its steps and making sense of the surrounding space in its mind. But again, I do understand viewing it as incongruous with the game's brutal and diegetic ethos. Personally, I have a bigger gripe with the overt advice given in text at the bottom of the screen at the beginning of the game and at some other points throughout; though "gripe" might be an overstatement, it really doesn't hamper my appreciation or enjoyment of the game too much lol.
Anyway, great review. That comparison to the first Metroid is super incisive. Those games definitely share a similar ethos (though I find RW far more playable)