Indivisible (Switch) - Not an RPG or a Metroidvania, but something more than both...

 It was an unfortunate coincidence that, on the day I finally defeated the mighty Kala, final boss of Indivisible, news was breaking that several developers were cutting ties with it's studio, Lab Zero. These parties stated the actions of, and working conditions created by, Indivisible's chief designer as the reason for their departure, and, sure enough, further delving into the story reveals the action of a pretty unsavoury character.

I know (too) many people believe that a piece of media and the actions of it's creator are not connected - you only need to look at the free pass afforded Micheal Jackson for decades to see evidence of that - but I don't fall into that camp and my first instinct was to keep my thoughts on this game to myself, rather than promote the work of someone who, by several, unconnected, seemingly reliable, accounts is a bit of a prick (to put it lightly).

But as I watched the credits roll by with the names of the scores of creative minds who contributed to Indivisible, it occurred to me that it would be ridiculous to disavow the game based on the nature of the one asshat at the top of the tree who was getting paid the big bucks - and this is especially pertinent in the case of Indivisible because I found it to be a wonderful experience, and I'd hope to convince the meager few readers of this review to play it.

Apparently it's a pretty common thing to play a game (or watch a movie, or listen to an album), gather your thoughts, and then head to the internet to see what everyone else thinks. I've done this for a very long time so I'm obviously biased in believing it to be a much healthier approach than obsessing over reviews and the opinions of others before you've made up your own mind.

It's not unusual, when doing this, to find that general reception to a piece does not align with my own. In the case of Indivisible the old spectre of weighing a game against expectations seems to be a common theme amongst both professional and consumer reviews, with the demon of genre conventions also colouring the thoughts of many.

There's no denying that Indivisible was marketed as both an RPG and a Metroidvania, and it's just as true that it's allusions to both of those genres are brought to bare with a pretty light touch, but, similarly to another game I played recently; Owlboy, I find myself won over by what the game IS, rather than what it ISN'T.

Featuring a unique, absorbing, combat system that is both real-time and turn based, beautiful artwork and animation, wonderful voice acting, and an affecting story, Indivisible succeeds on so many levels that it's failure to bring any real RPG trappings to proceedings was of very little consequence to me.

The lack of full-blown metroidvania exploration is slightly more of an issue, but only because the game teases you with what could be on several occasions. There's a brilliant extended platforming sequence around the three-quarter distance mark, for example, which presents a challenge for which all your learnt abilities are required to overcome. There are shortcuts and hidden rooms that become available as new techniques are unlocked, but sense of a world opening up is never really achieved.

The core of the game, however, is doubtlessly it's combat, and in this area Indivisible is simply exceptional.

If you were to look at a screenshot of a battle in Indivisible it would be very easy to mistake it's approach for that of a traditional turn based RPG system. Your team stand on one side, the enemy on the other, you have health and you have hit points. But that's more or less where the similarities end.

Each member of your four strong team is assigned a face button. This is used it to make them attack at any time during your 'turn'. Each attack can be modified in various ways through directional input and most can make use of an accumulated energy bar, called Iddhi.

Later in the game, when your strength is buffed and your roster has been expanded by recruiting characters met in the course of the story, it's possible, through judicious timing and creative use of the cast's vast array of different abilities, to defeat the enemies without them getting much of a look in at all. 

You'll find additions to your entourage who are combo specialists and others who are jugglers, there are tanks and speed demons, their are healers and even a character whose abilities are almost entirely passive. It's very much a system that rewards experimentation, and I found it impossible to resist tinkering with my team every time a new member was added - and this is key to the success of the system. With twenty or so characters to collect a 'permutation calculator' I found on the internet tells me that there almost 6000 possible combinations, so realistically the only limit is your imagination (although it must be said that some character are blatantly far better and more developed than others..

As much as the combat is the star of the show in terms of gameplay, it surprises me to say that the story shines almost as brightly.

It surprises me because I'm of the firm opinion that not only is a story an inessential element for a video game, but that the vast majority of stories presented in this medium are sub-B-movie level claptrap that rarely have any relationship to the actions you undertake when playing.

It's high praise from me, then, to say that Indivisible not only has a very well written, affecting, story, but that your actions in the game, particularly in the first half, feel entirely in keeping with that story. Furthermore, the delivery of the narrative takes place mostly through voice acting, the quantity and quality of which adds immensely to the classiness of the product and the success with which the game brings relate-ability to, and empathy for, the characters.

So, to reiterate an earlier point; yes, it's true that Indivisible doesn't offer much for RPG fans, and it's metroidvania elements are a mixed bag. But if you forget about what the game appears to be - and even what the marketing team claim it to be - and instead enjoy it for what it is, you'll find a stunning south asian inspired world, inhabited by a bewildering array of characters for you to fight with, and against using a unique, compelling battle system... and all while enjoying a story that is delivered with class, style, and emotional weight.

This is a game that, despite the current controversies surrounding the developer, is easy to recommend. There's no little irony that Ajna, Indivisible's protagonist, is a flawed character who eventually learns the error of her ways and seeks forgiveness for her actions while working to repair the damage she's caused. Perhaps it's not too late for Mr Zaimont to follow suit, but, in the meantime, this unique game, the product of dozens, if not hundreds of talented game-makers, deserves to be played.

Shantae and the Seven Sirens - Gaming the Pandemic: Re-visited

Between 21st March and 1st of August this year I was furloughed from work and so undertook the daily task of playing, and writing about, one game from my vast unplayed backlog to give my days some structure, to stop my brain turning to mush, and, frankly, to manage the stress of feeling completely out of control of my own life.

Over one hundred and thirty days I played racing games, platform games, shooters, brawlers, and fighters. I played on the ZX Spectrum, the Switch, and almost everything in between. 

I'd usually play a good three hours minimum, but occasionally I'd spend a lot longer, and occasionally a lot shorter time on them. 

To this end it was rare that I completed anything before moving on to the next - and that's what 'Gaming the Pandemic: Re-visited' is all about; going back to some of the games I had to leave behind due to the blog format and giving them the time they deserve.

Shantae and the Seven Sirens was released originally for the Apple Arcade in October 2019 and there are some issues that seem to have come about due to oversimplification - and I can't help but believe that the games roots on that ecosystem are at least partially to blame.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, because for a long time this is a very entertaining game and a good extension of the Shantae series.

On the definite 'plus' side, and as I mentioned when I first played the game, there's a more immediate mechanic for magic than in previous games which is extremely welcome. Most of the fan-favourite, gloriously upbeat characters return, too, and a good few new ones are welcomed.

The usual high quality voice and art work that has come to be expected of the series is maintained, and indeed is further embellished by the occasional fully animated cutscene - but there's something missing elsewhere that it's a little harder to define.

Generally, the game doesn't feel like it has moved forward from the previous entry, and in some areas, notably boss battles and some of the later abilities, there's a sense that a backwards step has been taken.

And this is where the game's origins on iPhone irk me somewhat.

It's debatable whether the lower difficulty in combat against bosses is the direct result of trying to appeal to a more casual audience, or whether it's due to building a game around the limitations of swipe controls, but either way, while the visual creativity is unquestionable, the tactical skills required to defeat the titular Sirens is almost non-existent.

At least two of the unlocked abilities fall victim to this approach too. Swimming and digging are much the same ability, just performed on a different colour background, and they are also clearly designed for ease of use on a device with no physical controls - leaving them to lack player agency on one that does.

I should make it clear that I don't generally have any issue with phone games. In fact, I get really annoyed by the childish comments that great any announcement that a developer is embracing the medium.

But a phone game and a console/PC game are usually very different things, and making one into the other is always going to involve compromise.

On the whole, though, there's nothing fundamentally 'wrong' with Shantae and Seven Sirens, but these compromises that seem to have been made to ensure the game work well for Apple Arcade, are magnified many times over when playing on a more game specific platform.

Away from this, there are issues with the endgame too. At least the last quarter of the game feel like a real slog, with more than the usual amount of backtracking for a Metroidvania. 

Usually at this point in games of this genre traversing the environment has become a slick, streamlined, joy, but in Seven Sirens it remains a wearying plod until the very end, to the extent that, when the game starts to feel like it’s unceromoniously rushing you towards the conclusion, as jarring as this is, you’re actually grateful for it. 

Which all reads like a resounding 'Avoid', and that's probably a bit harsh.

The problem is that almost everything new or different in Seven Sirens makes it slightly less good than the previous games - and it's hard to recommend based on the fact that it does a lot of things merely 'equally as well' as its predecessors.

Shantae and the Seven Sirens is a good game, taken on it's own merits it should deserve higher praise than that, but there's no getting away from the fact this is Shantae 5, and I'd probably recommend any of the four previous installments over this one.

Owlboy - Gaming the Pandemic: Re-visited

Between 21st March and 1st of August this year I completed the daily task of playing, and writing about, one game from my vast unplayed backlog.

During this time I was furloughed from work. I started this blog to give my days some structure, to stop my brain turning to mush, and, frankly, to manage the stress of feeling completely out of control of my own life.

Over one hundred and thirty days I played racing games, platform games, shooters, brawlers, and fighters. I played on the ZX Spectrum, the Switch, and almost everything in between. 

I'd usually play a good three hours minimum but occasionally I'd spent a lot longer, and occasionally a lot shorter time on them. To this end it was rare that I completed anything before moving on to the next - and that's what 'GtP: Re-visited' is all about; going back to some of the games I had to leave behind due to the blog format and giving them the time they deserve.

Owlboy was the last game I played for the OG Gaming the Pandemic, and was therefore not something I really 'returned' to, rather I just 'kept playing'.

I named it at number eight in my GtP top ten that I compiled on the final day, saying: "It's clever, it's fun, it packs an emotional punch, and it's one of the very best looking video games I've ever played."

Having now completed the game, nothing of that statement has changed. I perhaps should have mentioned the intelligence and depth on show in the world building, but aside from that my initial feelings were only exacerbated as I got further in to the game.

Everything good about the game only gets better. The incredible score reaches new heights, the gameplay continues to evolve, the artwork of the levels gets ever more creative, and the story, always central but never overbearing or intrusive, only gets more creative, more beautiful, and stays utterly captivating to the end.

For me, story is the very least element of any video game, but I'll concede (happily) that when done properly it can be intrinsic to the success of a product. Imparting a story through gameplay alone is the ideal, but this is incredibly difficult and often ends with compromises to both halves of the whole. However, creating a story that embellishes, contextualises, and even re-frames the players actions is less intrusive to the collective elements, and is usually the structure on which the best story focused games rely.

Goichi Suda is one of my favourite game directors and he has a way of bringing complex, nuanced stories to his games in a way that embellishes and gives structure to the interactive elements. Bioshock is an example of this too, and while I wasn't really a fan, the manipulations and contrivances in the plot do a brilliant job of casting light on the players actions. The flaw of that particular game, for me, was that the revelations come too late, and leave the player with little to do with them but replay with their eyes open.

Owlboy falls into this category in a more subtle way. There's no big reveal or eye-opening moment. The ideas around it's big narrative fulcrum; 'The Loop', are teased and hinted at throughout the game. The finale absolutely seals the deal and ties up some of the ambiguity, but very little of the game's backstory or plot is ever expressly revealed. 

From the books of Stephen King to the films of Christopher Nolan, laying out every aspect of your plot and characters, with no room for interpretation or nuance, is becoming a worrying trend. Owlboy, thankfully, avoids this kind of clunky over-exposition that is not just accepted in modern games culture, but lauded as exceptional in much of narrative media.

Beyond the story, Owlboy brings variation to the gameplay until the very end. These are never sweeping changes or entire genre-swaps, but tweaks on the established formula that nevertheless ask you to rethink how you've been playing up to that point. It's a game that always feels responsive and enjoyable to play, although some of this may be down to the difficulty, or lack thereof, in the game as a whole.

The lack of strong challenge was an accusation levelled more than once in comments on my original post about Owlboy, and while I don't disagree that the struggle is slight, I do disagree that it's an issue.

Challenge is not something that every game needs. I'm completely fine with the idea that a game can be too difficult or too easy - but these are the extremes - in the vast middle ground it's not a pre-requisite for every game to be pushing the upper reaches of toil. Moreover, Owlboy is a game focused on it's story, and if the balance is set too high then too few will ever experience it's entirety.

The existence of, and obsession with, hyper-challenging games doesn't mean that every other game should be pushing to occupy that same space. In fact, it means that, with that end of the spectrum taken care of, other games can excel at other levels of player agency; and Owlboy does exactly this.

As I feel myself writing into the summary I've become aware that I've done this twice already in a very short period. It's difficult not to repeat myself when my feelings after ten hours are the same as they were after two: 

It's an exceptional game, one of the most beautiful looking I've ever played, with a bewitching orchestral soundtrack and compelling, intelligent, expertly crafted story that's set in one of the most completely realised game worlds I've experienced for years. The variety in the gameplay is superb, and the characters are nuanced, flawed even, but ultimately immensely likeable. It's one of a very small number of games that succeeds in bringing a silent protagonist to bear without having an NPC magically articulate their every thought.

Basically, Owlboy is stunning in just about every possible way and you should add it to your collection immediately. In an ecosystem of fewer and fewer physical games this is one that you deserve to actually own.