Well, isn’t this interesting: whereas Bayonetta 3 just missed the landing (good game, mind; just missing a certain…something its predecessors lacked), I found myself quite taken by this left-field, humble spin-off starring the titular witch in her childhood. There’s none of the glitz and glamour in her adulthood years – just the pathos and doe-eyed wonder of a soul-searching child. Absent are the in-your-face sex or gratuitous gore rewarding our endless combo chains, substituted by the catharsis of a heartening coming-of-age story. It helps the plot is legible this time around: like all the best fairy tales, its storybook presentation makes us gasp and shriek with every page-turning twist, complete with a kindly narrator who, much like how your parents and teachers might’ve done for larger-than-life critters, intones a gruff, haughty growl for the Lost Demon himself.
Bayonetta Origins bears the Platinum seal of quality well – its DNA is evident in everything from secret challenges to hidden treasures to a rousing final boss fight—yet it’s a different breed from their usual fare of hi-scores and cutthroat action. Not that there’s anything wrong with experimentation, but Origins’ lethargy can sometimes be to its detriment – repetition can quickly breed in its forced encounters, and while Cheshire’s gradual new abilities are interesting, provide precious little ground for experimentation (Not that it was ever going to match the three Bayo game’s fertility on that front, mind; grafting juggling-filled combos onto the game’s the two-character control system would be a literal juggling act unto itself.)
But whatever missteps there may be, let us remember this is a different sort of Bayonetta – one substituting spectacle with a childlike wonder we may’ve lost within our own journey into adulthood, turning us bitter and cynical like Cereza’s tyrant of a teacher in Morgana. Were it not for the hair-rising monsters lurking within its depths, you’d almost never believe the mystical Avalon Forest is a realm of deadly frights: everything from Cheshire’s eye-popping transformations to the oversized fauna ferrying and bouncing our young witch along are imaginative boons for Origins’ dreamy setting: its cel-shaded graphics akin to tangible brushstrokes coming alive. Its lore is delightful as it is interesting, not the least in its ensemble of adorable, Dough Boy-esque Wisps: all lost, pitiful creatures trapped in Purgatory, complete with their respective backstories; a heart-wrenching incentive to aim for 100% completion. And we certainly can’t forget Cereza’s beautiful character arc – from subtle callbacks to Bayonetta (one particular boss being not-so-subtle, presenting a clever juxtaposition of Cereza’s growth) to all the trappings of a buddy road trip flick, the pitiful beginnings of young Cereza gradually blossom into the confident witch we’ve come to adore.
Some have questioned Origins’ branching out to a younger audience; myself, I’m grateful that, much like Cereza herself, it had the courage to try at all. Successfully forging uncharted ground for the series, it’s a spin-off that knows its boundaries, never outstaying its welcome and knowing just when to close the book. Where Bayonetta will go from here remains to be seen – I suspect the trials and tribulations surrounding Bayonetta 3 will give Platinum much pause on its future -- but in the advent of its newfound affinity for bedtime stories, I already anticipate the next chapter.
Bayonetta Origins bears the Platinum seal of quality well – its DNA is evident in everything from secret challenges to hidden treasures to a rousing final boss fight—yet it’s a different breed from their usual fare of hi-scores and cutthroat action. Not that there’s anything wrong with experimentation, but Origins’ lethargy can sometimes be to its detriment – repetition can quickly breed in its forced encounters, and while Cheshire’s gradual new abilities are interesting, provide precious little ground for experimentation (Not that it was ever going to match the three Bayo game’s fertility on that front, mind; grafting juggling-filled combos onto the game’s the two-character control system would be a literal juggling act unto itself.)
But whatever missteps there may be, let us remember this is a different sort of Bayonetta – one substituting spectacle with a childlike wonder we may’ve lost within our own journey into adulthood, turning us bitter and cynical like Cereza’s tyrant of a teacher in Morgana. Were it not for the hair-rising monsters lurking within its depths, you’d almost never believe the mystical Avalon Forest is a realm of deadly frights: everything from Cheshire’s eye-popping transformations to the oversized fauna ferrying and bouncing our young witch along are imaginative boons for Origins’ dreamy setting: its cel-shaded graphics akin to tangible brushstrokes coming alive. Its lore is delightful as it is interesting, not the least in its ensemble of adorable, Dough Boy-esque Wisps: all lost, pitiful creatures trapped in Purgatory, complete with their respective backstories; a heart-wrenching incentive to aim for 100% completion. And we certainly can’t forget Cereza’s beautiful character arc – from subtle callbacks to Bayonetta (one particular boss being not-so-subtle, presenting a clever juxtaposition of Cereza’s growth) to all the trappings of a buddy road trip flick, the pitiful beginnings of young Cereza gradually blossom into the confident witch we’ve come to adore.
Some have questioned Origins’ branching out to a younger audience; myself, I’m grateful that, much like Cereza herself, it had the courage to try at all. Successfully forging uncharted ground for the series, it’s a spin-off that knows its boundaries, never outstaying its welcome and knowing just when to close the book. Where Bayonetta will go from here remains to be seen – I suspect the trials and tribulations surrounding Bayonetta 3 will give Platinum much pause on its future -- but in the advent of its newfound affinity for bedtime stories, I already anticipate the next chapter.