In yet another attempt to wring some more cash out of its famous Musou series (or Dynasty Warriors and its spin-offs, to you and I), Tecmo-Koei have had the bright idea of releasing a game in the Musou mould that throws together a bunch of characters from its various IPs.
Series fans might initially raise an eyebrow at this, as the Warriors Orochi games have combined Dynasty Warriors and Samurai Warriors characters for some time now, and more recently characters from Dead or Alive and Ninja Gaiden. But if Warriors All-Stars demonstrates anything, it's that Tecmo-Koei's back-catalogue is perhaps a little more varied than you thought.
The game plays out in typical Musou fashion, with you taking control of a general and proceeding to slash your way through literally hundreds of hapless enemies in each battle, and occasionally going toe-to-toe with an enemy general with similar abilities to your own. Charging up gauges by dealing or receiving damage allows you to unleash powerful attacks, and there are some light strategic elements at play as each battle features constantly shifting objectives that force you to make decisions about where to position yourself, which enemy generals to target, which allies to support, which bases to take control of, and so on.
This core loop of near-effortless wading through hordes of enemies with the occasional urgent objective or battle with another general, remains as compelling as ever. The series has a reputation as a mindless button-masher, not least because standard enemies seldom even attempt to attack you, but there's an alluring serenity to it at times, a satisfaction in neatly mopping up every last bit of red on the map before bringing the battle to a close. Moreover, while mastery of your chosen character's moveset doesn't initially seem a huge concern, it becomes essential as the difficulty ramps up and you're forced to juggle more and more time-sensitive objectives. Dealing with hordes of enemies is easy, but you really have to learn to do it as efficiently as possible.
All-Stars mostly sticks to this formula, but it does have a few ideas of its own. As well as picking the character you'll play as for each battle, you can also pick up to four other characters to accompany you. For the most part they'll simply follow you around and help you defeat enemies as you go, but they also each have a specific supporting move that can be triggered at will. These range from status effects, such as putting enemies to sleep, to creating a vortex that sucks all enemies in its range into a small area, allowing you to more easily dispatch them with a single combo. In addition to this, each of these characters can be called up to stand side-by-side with your character and mimic their actions, essentially forming a ludicrous wall of death for a limited time.
Chief among the new additions, though, is Musou Rush. You start each battle with the ability to perform one Rush, and once used you can recharge it by fulfilling certain objectives. When activated, some chirpy trumpets kick in and you become incredibly overpowered for a short period of time, as your chosen allies appear on-screen to cheer you on as if they're your biggest fans.
The best part of all is that it doesn't even matter if there aren't hundreds of enemies around to begin with--once you activate a Rush, the game just starts spawning them in front of you as fast as you can take them down. It makes absolutely no sense, but as a concession to the joys of player empowerment and the general idiotic brilliance of the Musou games, it's a wonderful thing to behold.
The diverse array of characters is an absolute joy ... Anyone with an interest in niche Japanese games will see at least one unlikely yet familiar character that'll bring a smile to their face
The diverse array of characters in the game is also an absolute joy. When viewing the initial set of available warriors, it's easy to scoff at some of the more leftfield choices the developers have made; Sophie from Atelier, Arnice from Nights of Azure, Laegrinna from Deception… but it's fair to say that anyone with an interest in niche Japanese games (and you're reading a review of a Musou game, so: hi!) will see at least one unlikely yet familiar character that'll bring a smile to their face, if only due to the sheer peculiarity of it. The inclusion of William Adams from this year's surprise hit Nioh is a fitting one; the inclusion of Opoona from the 2007 Wii RPG of the same name is less understandable, and all the more brilliant for it.
Easily the best character in the game is Oda Nobunyaga, from the Samurai Cats series that never made it to the West. Modelled mostly on the famous Japanese warlord with almost the same name, Nobunyaga differs slightly in that he is a tiny cat equipped with a rifle and a magnificent baritone voice. His attack combos repeatedly summon groups of his tiny gun-toting cat-soldiers to blast anyone in the vicinity, and he might actually be the best character to ever appear in a Musou game.
That said, players might be a little disappointed by the paucity of game modes on offer. While previous iterations have included story modes, free battles, multiplayer, and the superb Empires mode that sees players conquering their way across a map by strategically picking battles to take part in, All-Stars has a story mode, and nothing else.
People hardly flock to Musou games for their labyrinthine narrative, and All-Stars certainly isn't bucking the trend here. Of course, a game that pulls together dozens of characters from different franchises was never going to be massively coherent, but suffice it to say it's the usual guff about a royal family performing a hero-summoning magic ritual so they can get some help defeating evil incarnate and heal the land. Still, skipping the cutscenes is easy enough, and if nothing else the knowing-ridiculous premise combined with the boldly-coloured menus and upbeat soundtrack give the game a strong Saturday-morning cartoon vibe.
The aforementioned royal family has also helpfully split into three warring factions, each with their own storyline as well as unique playable characters and missions. So, even if you're not fussed about the story, there are plenty of excuses for multiple playthroughs and the option to take on non-essential missions throughout to strengthen your characters means there's certainly no shortage of things to do.
The trouble is that All-Stars has the misfortune of being released as the Dynasty Warriors 9 hype train is gathering speed, and Tecmo-Koei have made it quite clear that they're on the cusp of bringing substantial changes to the admittedly formulaic series. While it might seem unfair to judge All-Stars against a game that doesn't even have a release date yet, it's hard to see it as something more than a stopgap to keep fans happy while the promised headline act is still in development.
That doesn't stop Warriors All-Stars from being a lot of fun in its own right, though. Series newcomers might be better served by the likes of Dynasty Warriors 8: Xtreme Legends or Hyrule Warriors--equally enjoyable games that can now be found at much lower prices--but All-Stars' twist on the standard Musou mechanics and the delightful whimsy of its whole premise certainly elevates it enough to make it an easy recommendation for veterans.
And once again, to be clear: you can play as a talking warlord cat with a gun.
There's no other game quite like Absolver. Parisian indie developer, Sloclap, has defined it as an online melee action game, which is appropriate but doesn't quite tell the whole story. Dig a little deeper and you'll uncover an intriguing marriage between 3D fighting games, deck builders, and online open-world RPGs, with a broad spectrum of influences ranging from Tekken, to Dark Souls, God Hand, and even Journey. It's a curious transmogrification of contrasting genres, yet it's Absolver's third-person brawling, and the unique Combat Deck, that form the game's beating heart.
Your journey in Absolver begins when you arrive in the collapsed empire of Adal. Despite its modest size, this once thriving civilization is impressively varied. Whether it's the vibrant colours of the verdant Hunter's Path, the orange hues cast by the setting sun at Bird Callers Outpost, or the muted tinge that envelops the swamplands of the Forgotten Temple. Its cities and townships, too, are refreshingly diverse: the architecture is inspired by ancient cultures like the Vikings and Greeks, with large wooden halls sitting in stark contrast to the opulent white marble of the Tower of Adal. The clean, delightful simplicity of Absolver's art design--and its use of eye-catching colour--establishes cohesion between these distinct locales that gives Adal a crucial sense of place.
Yet the beauty of Absolver's lush greenery and glistening waterfalls belies the weary souls left behind in Adal's crumbling ruins. These solemn warriors failed on their search for absolution, and you'll hope not to succumb to the same fate.
[Absolver has] an unparalleled combat system that's immensely deep and provides a wonderful sense of ownership over your character
As a fresh-faced Prospect, your goal in Absolver is simple: defeat a series of mini-bosses known as the Marked Ones to gain entry into the Tower of Adal. Once there, you must fight your way to its summit, and face off against one final boss to prove your worth and earn the right to join the vaunted ranks of the Absolvers. This expedition isn't quite as straightforward as it sounds, of course, especially with so many battle-hardened warriors standing in your way. But the story in Absolver doesn't stretch itself much beyond this singular quest. There are some sprinklings of lore imparted by the few friendly NPCs you encounter on your travels, but the narrative is relatively minimalist. In truth, Absolver's tales will permeate from those who play it, manifested in the fighting styles they build themselves.
You see, combat in Absolver is fully customisable. As you explore the open-world of Adal, you'll wander into skirmishes and accrue attribute points that can be spent on levelling up familiar stats like strength, dexterity, vitality, and so on. As you engage in combat, however, you'll also gradually learn new moves by blocking, dodging, or parrying unknown attacks from your opponents. You start off with only a handful of moves, but there are 180 in total, and the only way to learn them all is by fighting enemies and other players that use them, or by joining a school where a highly ranked player can take you under their tutelage. It's a curious system that in some ways apes real life, as you learn new techniques simply by observing others. It also guarantees that even if you're fighting with no real objective in mind, there's a high chance you're going to make some progress towards unlocking new moves that can then be incorporated into your ever-growing arsenal.
This assortment of moves is displayed in Absolver's Combat Deck. Although you pick a fighting style at the game's outset that comes complete with its own defensive maneuvers and preset combos, you can go into the Combat Deck at any time and build your own moveset to completely alter the way you fight. In practice, there are four different combat stances that represent your orientation relative to your opponent: front left, front right, back left, and back right. Each move begins and ends in one of these stances, so if you map out a sequence of moves correctly, you can chain together long strings of combinations that elegantly flow from one stance to the next. You might begin a combo in the front left stance, throwing a couple of quick jabs that end in a guardbreaking palm strike and shift into the bottom right stance, enabling you to unleash a flurry of powerful kicks on a staggered foe. With various properties applied to some moves, and power, range, and speed benefits to consider, there's a lot to sink your teeth into. It's an unparalleled combat system that's immensely deep and provides a wonderful sense of ownership over your character.
There's a rhythmic beauty to the way the action flows that's entirely predicated on your timing. Button mashing is out of the question here; this is a graceful dance to the death, with thunderous uppercuts and balletic roundhouse kicks taking the place of pirouettes and allegros. When you perfect the timing of a sequence, it almost feels too good to be true, like you're part of an elaborately choreographed fight scene. You start mixing in deceptive feints to throw off your opponent's timing before striking back with brutal counter-attacks, and using dodges or parries to swiftly keep out of harm's way, while always being mindful of an ever-depleting stamina bar that governs every action. There's a palpable sense of weight to each sundering blow, too, so it feels satisfying when a forceful attack connects with a bone-shattering impact. Not to mention how rewarding it feels to put away an opponent with a sequence of attacks that's wholly your own.
And that last point is especially pertinent when it comes to fighting other players. Going mano-a-mano in competitive 1v1 duels regularly conjures Absolver's most thrilling moments. The combat really springs to life when you're staring down another player, wondering what surprises they have lurking within their Combat Deck. And it's here where Absolver most closely resembles a traditional fighting game. Matches are decided by whoever's first to three wins, with bespoke battle arenas disconnecting these brawls from the open-world. There's an exciting back-and-forth to these encounters as you get a feel for one another's movesets. And the dynamic of the fight often evolves over time, as you attempt to get a handle on your opponent's strategies and look for ways to counteract them or fail in the process. It's engaging stuff, but there is a downside.
While the combat in Absolver is predominantly fought hand-to-hand, weapons do make occasional appearances. Their inclusion in these 1v1 duels, however temporary, is unfortunate, as they feel overpowered and can hastily flip the landscape of a fight on its head. There's a risk and reward aspect at play, as weapons can be dropped and snatched up by your opponent, but at launch, a player brandishing a sword doesn't seem particularly balanced, and diminishes some of the enjoyment of these otherwise tense bouts.
The clean, delightful simplicity of Absolver's art design--and its use of eye-catching colour--establishes cohesion between these distinct locales that gives Adal a crucial sense of place.
Elsewhere, the rest of Absolver's multiplayer is seamless, with up to three players able to passively enter your game at any given time. You can choose to ignore them (and Absolver can be played offline), team up for cooperative PvE, or fight against each other in friendly sparring sessions. There's no real punishment for dying, which grants any player-on-player fisticuffs an air of lightheartedness. And with no text or voice chat to dilute the experience, it's easy to develop an unspoken bond with those you meet on your travels.
Cooperative play is spoiled somewhat by the messy nature of Absolver's multi-person brawls, however. When you're in a group, most fights are trivialised as you simply gank your targets into submission. And when you're on your own, their chaotic and defensive nature is a disappointing far cry from the finesse and purity of its one-on-one battles.
Absolver has a few problems, then, yet they're not impactful enough to take away from its unique strengths. There's a significant challenge involved in learning Absolver's combat intricacies, but it's the kind of struggle that rarely frustrates. Defeat is part and parcel of the experience, but your demise always teaches you something new that you can take with you into the next battle--and Absolver's deep, nuanced combat always finds ways of enticing you back for one more fight.
When tragedy strikes, we crave the ability to go back and change things. We grieve and yearn for a real-life rewind button that gives us a do-over. We often assume that future events are delicately determined based on every little decision that we make. Of course, in reality, events don't work like that--there's probably no one flashpoint that could be prevented to stop something from happening in the future. Last Day of June deals with the frustration, anger, grief, and hope that comes from this belief that changing one little thing could reverse a tragedy--perhaps save a person from death.
In Last Day of June, Carl and June, deeply and happily in love, have taken a day to go on an outing to one of their favorite places. They spend the day relaxing and simply enjoying each other's company. A thunderstorm cuts the day short, however, and on the way back home, the couple experiences a horrific tragedy. Suffering a car accident, June is killed and Carl is paralyzed from the waist down.
You take control of Carl years after the event, alone and still bearing the injuries of that day. Carl is presented with the opportunity to relive--over and over--the short time before June's death, from the perspectives of every other character who lives in their small community. You can change the outcomes of each character's story, slowly modifying the events of that day in a desperate attempt to somehow save June.
Throughout the story, Carl's grief is palpable. Although the story unfolds with no real dialogue or words, the game's beautiful art style and animations effectively convey his emotions--you're drawn into the desperation that Carl feels, and the faint hope that the portals to the past give him. This is true of all the characters; the love, loss, fear, and joy of all of them are made real. At first, it's confusing to follow the language of the characters, which is composed of nothing but indecipherable grunts and muttering. But after growing accustomed to it, verbal intonation and subtle body language sufficiently communicate the shape of conversations and the color of the characters' emotions, if not specific content.
This is made possible through Last Day of June's gorgeous art style. The entire world is rendered as if was a watercolor painting, with soft pastels, blended colors, and visible brushstrokes. Character models are Tim Burton-esque, with unnatural proportions and few defined features. But they fit the painterly environments, moving and interacting as if in a storybook. It's Last Day of June's best quality, and the story wouldn't have nearly the emotional impact without it. The likely narrative wouldn't even make sense without it, as the storybook quality provides the encouragement you need to fill in gaps (especially with the characters' communication) with your own imagination.
It's disappointing, then, that the core gameplay--reliving these moments again and again to try to change them--results in frustration. In Last Day of June, you do nothing but move around and complete quicktime events, which isn't inherently a problem if it's done effectively and paced well. But Last Day of June is based on performing repetitive actions--move down the road, press X, move, press X, complete the day, see what unfolds--while also watching the exact same scenes. Last Day of June's formula sounds interesting and engrossing in theory. In practice, it presents you with moments that feel little different than being forced to watch an unskippable cutscene.
This is particularly damaging in a game that relies so strongly on its emotional impact. The first time June died was heartbreaking. The eighth, ninth, and tenth times were just annoying. It's potentially a fatal flaw, because replaying the past is the entire conceit of the game. If it can't hold your concentration, or if you're desensitized to a critical event, then the resolution won't have any impact. There is something novel about simply inhabiting Last Day of June's world and trying to figure out what you need to do to change a character's outcome, but scenes are repeated too often for the positive moments to overcome the annoyance.
Further, the puzzle elements of the game--trying to figure out how to change the course of events--are themselves affected because, to succeed, you actually have to go back and redo characters' arcs that you've already completed previously. In a way, it's similar to the Tower of Hanoi: you can see exactly what you need to do to get a desired outcome, but the mechanics of the game force you to play through scenes multiple times to get the right combination of outcomes that you've already witnessed.
There is something novel about simply inhabiting Last Day of June's world and trying to figure out what you need to do to change a character's outcome, but scenes are repeated too often for the positive moments to overcome the annoyance.
The game's final moments are robbed of some of their potential because of just how many times you sit through the same events. Last Day of June does compress events to a certain extent, accelerating you to a point where you take control of the character at an important choice. But it never abridges the cutscenes enough, especially when it comes time to "end the day" and see how your choices had affected things. The day's conclusion changes slightly as you progress, but it would've been vastly improved had the game returned to its gameplay sooner.
Moreover, the Groundhog Day-esque nature of Last Day of June is even more frustrating because of loading times that are long enough to break immersion in the narrative. When each day concludes, you must load back into the game. Any time you jump into another character's perspective, you'll have to stare at a loading screen for about 30 seconds. It's worse on a PS4 than a PS4 Pro, but either way it's an issue. Traveling through a portal is far less exciting when you have to look at a white screen for several seconds.
It's a testament to the game's writing that many story moments still shine in spite of the frustrating mechanics and loading times. The small community of characters feels alive with a deep familial history and personal flourishes that made these characters believable. For example, you may empathize with the young boy who has no other child to play with and resorts to begging adults for companionship, and feel the weight of June's best friend's struggle with her own secret infatuation with Carl. The vignettes of the side characters give the game's story richness and flavor; you end up knowing them much better than you know Carl and June. Although that may also limit how invested you are in Carl and June's romance at any given moment, you appreciate the gravity and importance of the unintentional role each of these characters played in June's demise.
Last Day of June's brevity is its saving grace, buoying up a story that isn't done any favors by its gameplay loop. There is undoubtedly potential in a game that allows you to alter past events to reshape the present, and Last Day of June shows glimmers of promise; however, it also ruins the emotional impact of its most important event by forcing you to repeat it so many times. It's a big problem when players grow irritated with the story arc of the character that the game is named after. But this repetitiveness is mitigated in part because of touching, relatable side characters and because Last Day of June explores the philosophical struggle between determinism and free will in a way that's fairly rare in video games. Last Day of June succeeds when it doesn't focus specifically on the love story of Carl and June, but rather on their entire community and the way they confront mortality and fate.
No comments:
Post a Comment