All that there was to say about Lies of P has been said already, and I concur with all you praisers - this is one of the best soulslikes to date, up there with the best of FromSoft's.

It’s ironic how my opinion on LiP is almost inverted from Dark Souls. The first DS is, honestly, not that good of a game; the pacing is whack, enemy movesets straddle the line between boring and annoying, level design is often tedious, and bosses are the definition of "hit-or-miss". At the same time, Dark Souls was a groundbreaking game with a world and ambiance so captivating that it's safe to call it one of, if not the most important and beloved games of the 2010s. These elements would only get refined and expanded upon in future Souls games, to the point where Dark Souls III is kinda one of my favourite games based on writing and atmosphere alone (in addition to being a fun game anyway). All of the Dark Souls games are good as games, but, in spite of their reputation, I believe their success lies more in the exploratory, audio-visual and narrative aspects, not really mechanics or buildcrafting options.

Lies of P is almost the opposite for me. Gameplay here is fantastic, taking all the most enjoyable and dynamic parts of combat and enemy design from the soulsborne "series", mixing them together and creating something that feels similar, yet exhilaratingly unique. I particularly liked how accessible and open Lies of P can be: sure, you don't have the ranged options you had with FromSoft, but every avenue for melee combat is equally viable and fun, in addition to (mostly) great balancing on items and summons. To this day I regret summoning for my first Ornstein and Smough fight, but I never once felt like I was cheating here if I just chose to summon a spectre and pellet the boss with grenades until the spectre dies. Unless you're a die-hard strength-buildoid, you're gonna have the time of your life playing Lies of P if you at all enjoyed Dark Souls or Bloodborne.

But what differentiates great games from good ones, in my opinion, is that great games achieve balance between all their aspects. Combat, narrative, visuals, audio, level design, boss design, balancing, pacing, even UI have to all work in service of each other to make a truly outstanding action-game. And while Lies of P does exceedingly well in the technical and gameplay departments, it doesn't really have…the sauce. You know?

Those "woah" moments, like finding your way back to Firelink Shrine, or first arriving in Anor Londo, or touching the egg, or first laying eyes on the horizon in Majula, or fighting Sister Friede, or making your way down to Ash Lake - there isn't really an equivalent in this game. The realms in which Lies of P struggles the most is definitely the story and themes.

There are certainly a lot of attempts to establish themes, but most fall flat in the fleshing out stage. The game asks “What makes a human?” or “What is freedom?”, but doesn’t provide many interesting takes, or even asks the questions in any sort of intriguing way. I suppose it’s quite lovely to imply that what makes one truly human, is genuine expression of your true feelings and a willingness to make your own choices, but characters rarely go beyond “I’m a puppet and can feel love”, or “I’m a human who’s kind of anti-social”. Like a lot of videogames, Lies of P is more interested in plot rather than story, with plenty going on (and at a great pace, too!), but not too much happening to key players or even episodic characters.

And it’s not like From Software games are big on character arcs either, but, simply put, Solaire alone is more interesting and note-worthy than almost every guy, gal and robot pal in Lies of P, because his conflict is a lot more emotional, and his writing is a lot more memorable. Implied depth of some characters is hidden in item descriptions, and you sometimes get really well defined cast members, especially if they’re a vendor in the Hotel, but aside from Polendina and the weird shit that happens to Sophia, there isn’t much to hold on to. Antonia is one-note, as is Eugenie, Veghini shows little outside of his “I’m a genius wealthy socialite but publicly-minded and a bit cowardly too” routine, and Gepetto is SUPER boring. I wouldn’t say that Lies of P’s narrative quality is poor because it’s not as good as Dark Souls, but it is, purely in isolation, just not too exciting or stimulating.

The vibes are off the chart here, though, and the first time you get to a new location always feels pretty magical and engrossing, in large part because of just how excellent Lies of P is in its general construction. This game never felt too hard, too dark, too reliant on one motif or level gimmick; like an automaton, it moves tirelessly forward. New weapons, new enemy types, new locations, new cool shit is waiting around every new corner. Nothing really overstays its welcome, and every experience is a fleeting moment you want to have once more. If nothing else, where Lies of P doesn’t fully deliver, it still leaves you hungry for more. Which kinda reminds me of RE4?

Speaking of which, let’s talk about ripoffs. Much digital ink has been spilled on the subject of “ripoffs”, a lot of deliberation on what is or is not a “good ripoff”, and endless discussions about where does a line between a ripoff and an homage lie. In the last 10-ish years, the most interesting subject of this particular discourse has definitely been the Star Wars sequel trilogy, with The Force Awakens being an especially interesting case-study. It takes a lot of clear inspiration from A New Hope, with major plot points, on paper, being almost identical to the original film. Any sequel trilogy defender will tell you that, yes, a lot of general story beats and character archetypes are similar, but the new characters, distinct from the old, specifically Finn and Kylo Ren, provide a new emotional context to the proceedings, elevating The Force Awakens from a simple ripoff to something new, while still being familiar.

And I tend to agree with this. I’ve always thought it disingenuous to lay out two very different pieces of art on a table, dissect them with utmost technical certainty, and claim that because “A mentor dies in both” or “Both have a second act oopsy-fucksy that sets our heroes back before they prevail in the finale”, that these two things are fundamentally the same. It’s fine to feel like a similar structure reminds you too much of a thing you’ve already experienced, but so often those kinds of comparisons are made to shove a thing into a plastic tube, where you can freely point out all the flaws and supposed lack of originality, disregarding context and all the little and small stuffs that make this thing unique.

Lies of P, even more so than The Force Awakens, handles its myriad inspirations in a very sophisticated way. Obviously, a huge point of comparison here is Bloodborne, but even calling Lies of P a “Bloodborne-inspired game” feels wrong to me. Truly, what is Bloodborne here? A 19th century European urban setting? A nimble character? The rally system? Like, two weapons? Sure, but if you play each game, those things are handled differently, feel different, look very different, exist in a completely different context, and, as a result, the games don’t resemble each other at all.

Is there some Sekiro here? Sure; you have different prosthetics, one of which is basically a grappling hook, you have a focus on staggering your opponent by blocking their attacks with precise timing, but those things, again, are very differently done. The Legion Arms that P is rocking aren’t prosthetics, but feel like an integral part of your character, thanks in large part to how effectively the whole “playing an automaton” gimmick has been executed. There’re also incentives to switch your Legions every other location and boss, because each one is more effective against certain enemies, in certain levels, or against a certain boss. Depending on your strategy and how much of your Elden Ring playthrough is dominated by the Greatsword, you may roll through the entire game with just the String, or the Shield, or even the starter arm, since it takes up the least weight and is very straightforward, but a lot of players will keep on switching and finding new approaches with each Arm. The Perfect Guard mechanic doesn’t resemble the Sekiro parries, or, for that matter, the normal block of any of the Souls games: you are encouraged to study enemy and boss movesets, but there isn’t one most optimal strategy for avoiding damage. Depending on your skill, playstyle or how fucked up the boss is, you can dodge, block + rally, perfect guard, or parry an attack at your leisure. There’s a lot more space to run around, stay perfectly still, use items, summons, unique weapon skills, etc. than in most other soulslikes.

Of course, like with any soulslike, there are balancing issues here. The perfect guard system especially is a bit at odds with enemy design: most enemies you encounter, especially in the first several levels, are really squishy, and your best bet to deal with them is stunlocking them with a flurry of light attacks. That doesn’t leave much room to get acquainted with how perfect guards work, and when bosses start ramping up, you might find yourself experiencing a bit of a difficulty spike; you didn’t need to know how to parry, and now you do. This is why the Scrapped Watchman was the second-hardest boss in the game for me, even though it’s the second one you meet. Until I met him, I basically tried playing Lies of P like a traditional soulslike, with the pattern of “dodge, two-three hits to punish, rinse and repeat until the bitch is dead”. But after I figured out how to effectively use all the tools P has at his disposal, this game really transformed into something entirely new from what I’ve seen before.

Of course, towards the last quarter of the game, Lies of P starts giving you all kinds of ridiculously strong trinkets to mess around with, which can significantly mess with the challenge. Your mileage may vary, but a fully upgraded Aegis, the Perfection Grindstone and a spectre buffed with a Flame Wishstone is all you need to bully all but a couple of the end-game bosses without many issues. I generally felt that items and summons didn’t hamper the challenge and fun of the game for most of it, but some of those items, combined with some others, can be a real overkill. The Two Dragon Sword especially can be a complete menace.

Despite the big and the small issues I had with this game, it’s undeniably an impressive achievement. Judging from the absolutely wild post-credits scene, I wouldn’t be expecting a watershed soulslike moment from Round 8 anytime soon, but with Lies of P I am now confident that we’re nearing a dawn of a new era of soulslikes. With From Software seemingly moving away from the genre, and how Lies of P is (probably?) the most critically and commercially successful soulslike since Miyazaki started stirring shit up, after Shadow of the Erdtree drops, Round 8 might just be the stewards of this new age. Cheers to it being a good one, may Dorothy do Yoda flips on fools in her game, may Pinocchio’s nose staff pierce the heavens in the DLC.



P.S.
Actually a lot of this reminded me of Resident Evil 4, the whole village section coupled with a cable car ride was very RE4. And then the dogs did the thing from the first game? But then the big petrification bosses were very Bloodborne, so I dunno. Great homages all around honestly

Lies of P is a game about lying.

For a game that copies a lot of the most recognizable characteristics of From Software games, it still feels like a wholly original and unique game despite how many people write this game off as a ‘Bloodborne clone’. What I think Lies manages to do that other souls-likes fail at is advancing the design elements of From rather than simply siphoning their mechanics to influence how the player perceives the game: Pulse Cells are analogous to the Estus Flask, but also let you recharge your final Cell if you perform well enough in combat, opening up build options in whether you want to do more damage in this riskier state or simply want a faster charge rate. Legion Arms reflect a much more limited, less abusable version of Sekiro’s Shinobi Prosthetic, and Guard Regain’s compatibility with blocked damage places this game in an aggression range between DS3 and Bloodborne, with the parry-focused combat of Sekiro.

Because of these various yet closely associated influences, the game is almost like a perfect remix of the Fromsoft formula, allowing you to appreciate where certain ideas are pulled from before the game puts a new spin on them. I’m personally incredibly happy with the level design of this game, which feels like it draws most directly from Dark Souls II of all places, a risky choice considering the general attitude most people have towards that game. One of my biggest complaints with Dark Souls III is how that games’ level design very quickly abandons any aspect of interconnectivity or large-scale exploration that the first two games in the series allowed for in favor of an almost entirely linear experience that put its combat front and center, for better or worse. Lies of P manages to somehow have the best of both worlds, with incredibly engaging bosses that I always look forward to fighting and levels that don’t feel like straight lines with an absurd number of bonfires. Most levels here wrap around themselves in really impressive ways that allow for stargazers to be placed incredibly sparingly, a design choice I will always prefer to DS3’s more ‘theme-park’ approach to level progression.

Beyond the game’s astonishing level of mechanical cohesion (I haven’t even mentioned the Assembly system, which is honestly reason enough to play this game if you’re a fan of games with similar combat systems), the cohesion of this game’s story is criminally undervalued. I can’t really blame most people for not being able to take this game seriously for being a soulslike about… Pinnochio, especially when most of our internal perceptions of the character are either of the Disney version or the character in the Shrek movies. You’re just going to have to trust me when I say that this game is a very thought-out adaptation of the source material and doesn’t simply use the Pinocchio property as a shallow aesthetic stunt. Lies is a game that actually uses the property it’s adapting within the vehicle of it’s story, and I have an endless respect for this game in how much faith it has in its own concept. When asked “What makes someone human?” Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinnochio serials answers that it is our ability to help others and act for their sake that makes us human, as shown in Pinocchio’s transformation at the end of the story after months of studying, working hard and saving money to care for his sick father. Lies of P’s answer, is actually not very different: We’re human because we can choose to act, and by exercising our agency we help each other far more than we help only ourselves. The game’s Real Boy ending sees everyone in the hotel replaced with a puppet copy after being killed by the newly reborn, perfectly obedient Carlo, after. The game’s most ‘Pinocchio’ mechanic, Lying, even shows a refreshing amount of nuance and respect to human morality by never painting the choice to lie or not as a simple choice between ‘doing the right thing’ and ‘doing the wrong thing’. Many of the choices in this game feel like they lack a ‘right’ answer, but often I found that lying to most people was often a mercy that showcased how communication often has to fulfill an emotional need more than a logical one. That’s not to say that lying is always the new ‘right thing’ in this game; Although the best ending in the game requires you to express your humanity a lot (through lying, mostly), the game still has a couple lies that genuinely stumped me on whether I wanted to lie or not; Do you decipher Alidoro’s scroll and tell Eugenie’s brother is dead? Do you tell Venigni that your own father is responsible for the destruction of Krat? Do you admit to Arlecchino that you are, in fact, a murderer? I can’t begin to express how relieving it is that this game isn’t trying to lecture the player about honesty or morality, understanding that lying is both innately amoral and innately part of the human experience. Lying is a choice, and what is more human than the ability to make our own choices?

Lies of P is the most honest game I’ve played.