Note - as I did not beat this game, this write-up should be taken more as a set of observations than a genuine review.

Note - this game contains a couple scenes that may be triggering to epileptics


Fez was one of three titles popularized by Indie Game: The Movie, and arguably ended-up the most famous of the bunch. Why was that? Well, I’m so glad you asked as it had to do with its co-creator and media representative Phil Fish. Now, Fish’s rise-and-fall among the gaming community is its own rabbit hole worth looking into (though please stave away from the laughably apologetic This Is Phil Fish video that went viral years ago+); however, I bring him up because, even as his popularity fell, there remained a strong advocacy on behalf of his baby - that, no matter how much you hated the guy, his art merited consideration purely out of innate quality.

Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news (not really), but the truth is Fez ain’t all that great. It features an absolutely fascinating concept, and is certainly far better than anything I could ever create; yet it can’t help escaping from the fact that it’s just boring. As a neo-platformer, the gimmick here revolves around the ability to turn your screen on its horizontal axis four different ways, theoretically yielding 4 different variations of each level: and yeah, that seamless perspective shifting is definitely amazing, but the issue is it’s rarely used towards anything beyond basic navigation quandaries. Oh, is that ledge out of reach? Well, flip clockwise and bam, now you’ve got grassy hooks to climb on. Are those twirling boards leading out to the middle of nowhere? Well, just change directions and you’ll see they actually ascend upwards!

That’s literally the extent of Fez’s imagination -- it takes your conventional side-scrolling formula, reels it vertically, and swaps obstacle solutions between dimensions and doors (more on that later). Sure, the ploy is fun at first, but once the novelty wears off you’re left with a very flat experience that drags and drags to the point of being unfun. The most diversity I ever saw involved matching external objects to some background effigy, and triggering explosives at specially-marked areas, but their solutions, again, entailed no creativity - just whirl-and-haul until things set in place. The problem isn’t even that it’s easy, but moreso that it’s repetitive -- imagine if twisting resulted in kinetic changes in the world? Or were tied to triggering power-ups? I know I’m spitballing here, however, that’s the kind of advice I wish had been imparted on Fish and company during development.

Unlike most platformers, the goal of Fez is to collect yellow cubes located amidst a myriad of interconnected stages, and while darting between areas is pretty cool, it ultimately harms the game by spacing things out too much - what should’ve been singular realms are broken-up into multiple skotas you can only access via specific doors, and as finding said doors fills the bulk of Fez’s gametime, the endeavor gets tepid very fast. I’m not lying when I say you’ll be spending 90% of your time locating hidden enclaves, with these enclaves, in turn, being nothing more than barren islands or, worse case scenario, empty rooms. There’s no discovering new mechanics or happening upon some hidden lore, just chamber upon isle of prolonged blandness.

The continual need for fresh cubes means you’ll be doing a lot of backtracking as well, and the lack of a quick travel option to individual lands consequently adds insult to injury - if you want to return to a previously-absconded area, be prepared to go piece-by-piece-by-piece as you waste time re-netting your way there (the devs not even bothering to mark each door++).

To Fez’s credit, it has a fine map system equipped with dynamic motion, but rather than waste time programming it, I feel the Polytron Corporation would’ve been better off sticking with closed-off levels that players would have had to complete in-full before moving on to the next place. As it stands, there’s just nothing special about Fez beyond the initial 5 minutes of bliss your average gamer will get from experiencing its new mechanics. Even the side content, involving the use of cryptic pictorial riddles to solve puzzles, is hampered by the sheer distance between said clues and their accompanying location.

Graphically, Fez got a lot of praise for its presentation, and I’ll definitely agree that it’s the best aspect of the game, combining pleasant colors and calming aesthetics into a pixelated masterpiece - the kind of title I could see someone running around in purely to replicate 5th century Buddhist meditation techniques. Most of the backdrops and environs take clear inspiration from Mayan-based architecture, combining stoney ruins with colored blocks, grassy covered exteriors, looming trees, and an abundance of overflowing water; however, there are a fair amount of locations where Fish and his team dip into transcendent territory, whether it’s the World 1-2 inspired sewers, a storm-ridden manor, or the blood-flooded eeriness of the hub plane.

That same effort was carried over to the interior chambers, which could be really bizarre depending on the abode. In my abridged playthrough, for example, I caught sight of map carvings, robot idols, bathroom pumps, dorm room bedding, and even a witch’s pot. Perhaps there was some thematic message Fish intended, but if there was I was too dumb to discern it.

One of the stranger decisions Polytron makes is the incorporation of wildlife, other NPCs, and a dynamic day/night cycle. I say strange because, outside of two puzzles(+++), they don’t serve any purpose in the game and accordingly feel like a waste of money. You could at least make an argument for the presence of humans out of explaining the protagonist’s existence, but given the sheer amount of unique animations programmed for each animal (worms, rats, birds, frogs, butterflies, etc…), I was expecting them to occupy a role in-game besides standard window dressing. Don’t get me wrong, the artisans absolutely deserve credit for their modeling and aptitude, it’s just a case of Chekhov's Gun being violated.

Fauna aren’t the only entities who got specially-coded movements - your anonymous hero may look like a 2D Sackboy, but he’s actually quite versatile in terms of his scripted actions: idle away too long from the keyboard and he’ll fall asleep; hop in water and he’ll paddle like a fish; stand near the edge of a ledge and he’ll teeter over ala DKC.

Unfortunately, the sound editing stumbles too much to be worth a listen, particularly with regards to the music cues. Your basic SFX is all well-and-good, if a bit soft-mixed; however, I found almost every jingle to be obnoxiously loud: opening treasure chests sprouts a Zelda-esque ripoff, jumping into portals triggers a booming vibration, and fully-assembling cubes yields you a disparaging synth-beat.

That obsession with synth carries over to the score, composed by a guy appropriately called Disasterpeace. Peace indulges in a subgenre of the matter known as chiptune, which, as the name suggests, renders every other melody in the OST like something between the NES and SNES generation. It’s a theoretically-solid concept (Kirby’s Adventure did something similar after all), but the problem is Peace’s compositions end-up sounding more akin to early-2000s electronica than synthetic instruments, resulting in a lot of extended flat notes filtered through an e-piano. It’s outdated, it’s misophonic, and most importantly contrasts with the placid visuals.

There’s really nothing else to say about Fez. While I’m always happy for indie games that break through the zeitgeist barrier, Fez ultimately doesn’t live-up to any of the notoriety surrounding it or its creator.


NOTES
+Since that video is (sadly) popular, I’ll flesh out my opinion of it in the event of potential fan backlash -- Danskin does raise good points about the nature of the Internet and the tendency for users to project general sentiments onto a singular persona for the sake of a homogenized rebuttal/attack; however, his brushing-off of Fish’s behavior under the argument of Internet celebrities not needing to be held to higher standards is preposterous to say the least. Yes, some of Fish’s quotes did get blown out of proportion by the media, but Fish himself did no favors as far as adapting to criticism or changing his public image. And no Mr. Danskin, it doesn’t matter if he was always this way - when you’re put into a position of power and influence, you’re obligated to be professional lest you contribute to the normalization of toxic behavior par for the course for such authority figures.

++Standing in front of a previously-entered door will bring-up a projection of the next place, but given that you have to match this with the corresponding map image, it’s fundamentally a two-pronged process that would’ve been better off with conventional naming.

+++The first is nighttime revealing a hidden door; the second is a giant owl statue puzzle, though from what I understand both are completely optional anyway.

-There’s a mining section with a bunch of Mjolnir-looking hammers.

-There’s a track here that I swear was all but recreated in Evan’s Remains.

NOTE - there are two versions of Gothic that come with the Gold Edition -- the vanilla release as well as Night of the Raven, the latter being a lite-remaster that adds a new chapter/area called Jharenkar whilst concurrently upping the difficulty. If you get the Gold Edition, please understand that you can only play one version of the game over the other as they are treated as separate titles without carryover files. Obviously, based on my rating, you can tell I don’t recommend either, but NOTR even less due to it making an already challenging game pointlessly difficult


Gothic 2 is the kind of game I feared the original Gothic would wind-up being: an outdated CRPG ripe with fetch quests and pointless loot galore. Granted, I obviously had enough problems with the first to abstain from a full-on endorsement; however, I can’t deny its end product was vastly different from those initial worries: occupying a revolutionary Eurojank format chock-ful of unique systems.

Unfortunately, the sequel forgoes all those interesting tidbits in favor of a relatively-standard release that would’ve been fine had it not been for the presence of defects in almost all its major facets, beginning with the overworld. Gothic 2 is arguably twice as big as its predecessor, yet makes the genius decision to not only undercut your speed, but deny you access to quick travel options well until the third chapter. True, the first game did this as well, but because its realms were much smaller, it never felt excessively impeding - you could dart between the three major camps without ever worrying about the 24-hour cycle looming past you. Gothic II, au contraire, is far more triple-spaced, meaning you’re liable to getting lost in places you most definitely don’t want to be in when night rolls over. And look, that by itself isn’t a bad thing (the hallmark of most open world games is the freedom to wander about aimlessly after all), but when you’re forced to backtrack for tens of minutes on end just to reach the safety of a town or find the next big civilization, it gets frustrating very quickly, and I consequently have no regrets about exploiting waypoint commands.

I mentioned earlier that your velocity has been undercut this time around, and while slower walking does exacerbate those distance qualms, the real issue with it is it forces you into combat scenarios. In the first Gothic, you couldn’t harm a Blood Fly without getting one-hit-KOed, but that was at least mitigated by the ability to outrun 99% of foes until you got stronger.

In developing Gothic II, though, Piranha Bytes have swapped to a combat-focused schema that fails to make the necessary adjustments for such a genre, opting for this weird in-between wherein your weaknesses are contrasted with the ability to dodge, parry, and critical hit. There’s a bit of a FromSoftware motif here in the form of enemies, both human and nonhuman, having unique attack patterns; however, it’s not been ironed out, leading to a lot of good and bad. On the plus side, you get armor early-on and can pretty easily block-spam most humans, but on the negative side, critical hits are haphazard and monsters so erratic, the bulk are impossible to “figure out”. This is a game where you constantly have to save scum because you just never know when someone or something will gain the RNG upper hand and knock your health bar down with a single blow (and when those moments occur, it’s beyond frustrating). Be prepared to hoard a bunch of food for post-battle recovery as every 1v1 skirmish turns into a pyrrhic victory.

Speaking of 1v1, Gothic II once again thrives on this approach to fighting, and once again is deliberately obtuse about it. You’re rarely going to encounter a single enemy by itself: whether it’s bandits, goblins, scavengers, or orcs, they’re always going to be in groups of 3 or more, and I don’t understand why the devs thought this would be a good idea when they blatantly geared their combat system towards personalized duels. Even when you get sufficiently strong, you’re literally forced to cheese the game because your character is simply incapable of fighting multiple foes at once - your stepbacks are too short for evading, you autolock onto singular enemies, and sword strikes only slice one entity/each. So yeah, be prepared to engage in such annoying tactics as inching closer-and-closer to trigger a lone monster’s vision cone, or humping boulders & tree trunks in the hopes of exploiting enemy pathing issues (oh, and to add salt to the wounds, the game deliberately undercuts your damage output when facing parties compared to isolated foes).

Now you may be thinking, well Red, you’re just speaking about the melee - surely players are meant to combine this skill with archery and magic for success? Well no. While archery is more useful this time around (if only because there’re less-ranged foes), it’s hampered by three factors: one, limited skill point acquisition that prevents sufficient investment in both paths; two, the necessity of a secondary skill called dexterity for arrow damage increase; and three, swapping between tools being a decidedly-elongated process hostile to dual-tactics.

Magic, on the other hand, has been completely upended this time around via Piranha Bytes opting for outdated class specialization. See, if you don’t join the Fire Mage Guild in the first chapter (more on that later), you lose access to most offensive spells: like literally, you’re unable to use them, even if you have sufficient mana and the requisite scroll. Sure, you can still do summons, but, outside of demons (which are hard to come by), they aren't a huge help against those aforementioned hordes.

On the topic of guilds, Gothic II further peeved me by not properly outlining the presence of the other factions. In the first Gothic, you were explicitly told by Diego about the different camps and how you were meant to choose one. Here, though, you’re made highly-privy to the Paladin Way via Xardas mandating you deliver a message to their head regent - when you arrive there, you’re informed that the only to pass on this missive is to join the City Guard and become a citizen of Khorinis. The Mages are briefly mentioned if you talk to one of the adjacent representatives, but considering the dangerous distance to the location (as well as the nonsensical entrance fee of 1000 gold + a sheep), it’s not exactly an open path compared to being a Guardsman.

The Mercenaries are a bit easier to join given Lares’s offer to escort you to their leader; however, unlike Gothic 1, where Mordrag took you directly to the New Camp, Lares leaves you behind a good ways away from the mercenary headquarters, and I consequently was unable to find the man until well-after I had joined the Khorinis Militia. But even if I hadn’t, I don’t see why I, as a player, would’ve considered joining them when the militia being at odds with the mercs implied that doing-so would’ve made it impossible to dispatch the letter for story progressment. Yes, I know now that there would’ve been some avenue for success, but the point I’m trying to make is that Gothic II just isn’t as framed as well as its predecessor, with these obscurity methods coming across like goaded attempts at encouraging multiple playthroughs.

As a result, I can’t give an accurate assessment about the narrative in terms of how it differs in that initial act. With regards to the consequent chapters (assuming the story beats remain the same), though, I can tell you that Gothic II is an utterly boring, fetch quest extravaganza. I hate making constant comparisons to its predecessor, but to see such a noticeable drop can’t help begetting these mandates- before your Nameless Hero felt like he was forging his own arc amidst the brave new world he was trapped in. Gothic II, on the other hand, is content with having you play errand boy for almost every single figure you come across: you’re first doing the bidding of Xardas by delivering his memo to the Paladin Commander, then are forced to do arduous tasks for the merchants within Khorinis in order to obtain citizenship, then are tasked with doing MORE bidding for the Commander by conducting a scouting mission to the previous game’s area , then have to do, you guessed it, another set of chores for the Paladins and mages, then rinse-and-repeat until the last saga wherein your protagonist finally grows a pair and takes initiative into his own hands (though by then it’s obviously too little too late).

It’s a shame because there was so much potential here with regards to what could’ve happened following the fall of the barrier and all these criminals and gangs running free, but no, the writers evidently thought it better to forgo that in favor of a generic fantasy yarn (which, on its own, might’ve been fine were it not for the whole indentured servitude schematic). Some of the NPCs you meet are kind of interesting, you finally get a decent reason for why your Hero isn’t named, and it was admittedly cool seeing what happened to your allies/nemeses from the first game. But overall the endeavor was just very forgettable (and yes, this applies to the sidequests too).

Gameplay, despite the flaws I touched on earlier, has seen some improvements from Gothic 1. For starters, the useless skills of sneaking, lock bumping, and pickpocketing have been converted into singularly-learned talents that actually serve a purpose in certain quests. Secondly, 1h and 2h weaponry are equally-useful methods for dispatching foes, with upgrades to one partially carrying over to the other (at a ratio of I believe 5:1 skillpoints). Thirdly, as I alluded to in my rant above, you can actually take more than one-strike now without dying, which SIGNIFICANTLY helps in leveling-up quicker compared to before. Finally, the revamped combat is quite fun, occupying a fencing-style of play that risks/rewards lunges-and-retreats. As you upgrade your swordwielding, the game also provides visible feedback via faster drawing, swiping, and new combos.

Unfortunately, that’s about all the praise I got as everything else is either mediocre or an infringement upon the game’s fun factor. To run down the list: there’s no quick save/load option, you can only cook & brew one item at a time, leaves & foliage outright block your vision during combat, executions have been removed(+), you can’t dual-wield swords with torches for night fights, and you’re unable to sync the attack and action buttons to the same prompt (something that genuinely makes no sense given that you can’t even do actions when you have your blade out).

Worst of all, there’s no sense of difficulty scaling in the narrative - in G1, yeah every enemy was annoying on some level, but they were at least restricted to their respective areas of influence, and the story appropriately structured your mandatory encounters with them.

In the sequel, though, you can happen upon a troll or skeleton medley, or find a swarm of blood flies right next to a pack of snappers, all in the most random of places. One of the worst decisions has you in the second chapter, let me repeat, in the second chapter, sent off to maneuver around the Orc Army, and it honestly stands as one of the most vexing experiences I have ever had in a video game - to be forced to run around these behemoths spammed everywhere with no method of fighting back(++). There had to have been some cut survival horror elements as I just don’t see why anyone at Piranha Bytes believed this would be a good idea in the slightest - imagine encountering the Trigen within the first third of Far Cry and you’ll get an idea of my frustration.

If all that weren’t enough, exploration is rendered worthless as, just like in the first Gothic, the only things you’re privy to finding in the open world are lone caves ripe with repetitive loot. On that note, expect a cluttered inventory due to the sheer amount of pointless garbage you're liable to discovering on corpses and chests alike, from gems to various meats. True, G1 also had similar problems, but there was at least a unique bartering schematic wherein you could trade this stuff for an item you wanted - Gothic 2 reverts to a standard monetary system that ultimately requires you to sell this stuff for cash to then use for purchasing, turning a simple back-and-forth enterprise into a padded-out middle man approach.

Graphically, Gothic II continues to stumble as it’s just not at the level of its contemporaries, let alone something that’s aged well. Now look, part of me actually appreciated the aesthetics due to them blatantly resembling RuneScape right down to the font-type (I wouldn’t be surprised if Jagex and Piranha Bytes’ artists came from the same school of design), but objectively the modeling is pudgy, animations stilted, shadows circular blobs, and the vast majority of monster designs either rehashed or uninspired. Most of the texture work is admittedly pristine, with castles, villages, mountains, and ponds rendered quite well; however, there’s nothing about their surrounding biomes that makes them stand apart from your usual fictional settings, and a fair amount are unfortunately adorned with blatantly painted-on simulacra versus individually-composited objects (stone veins, floor bones, door locks). You also have a ton of repetitive knickknacks and buildings plastered in the majority of locations: expect to see the same farmhouses, Shadowbeast mounts, treasure chests, flowery lion busts, and Angel/Demon paintings despite their presence in varied locations.

Gothic II also suffers from a few minor, yet noticeable, technical issues you’ll have to contend with, namely the poor draw distance, animation lags (for candle flames, large oceans and at-distance NPCs), as well as incessant clipping. They won’t bring down the experience by any means, but are worth noting for the sake of knowledge.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some amazing feats like the phenomenal textiles, moving clouds, dynamic lighting, presence of raindrop/snowflake impacts, and how looking up at the sun turns the screen yellow. And for all my complaints about the repetitive interior layouts, the artisans went all out for that final dungeon wherein you’re privy to some gorgeously-grisly details ala torture chambers with displaced skeletons, walls laden with chiseled runes, and giant knight statutes with glaring red eyes. I just wish that same effort had been put into the preceding locales.

SFX is a bigger letdown, containing some of the worst noises for monsters I’ve ever had the misfortune to hear in gaming. Orcs and dragons are decent, but every other enemy resounds like a conventional noise bumped up several decibels: expect to cover your ears when facing scavengers (roosters), lurkers (snorting pigs), blood flies (bass drums), and goblins (literally like someone farting through a french horn). In addition, footsteps are heavily muffled and grass rustling clearly recreated via a candy wrapper being rubbed against the boom mic.

When you’re in towns, the soundscape fares better despite its volatility - I loved hearing the workings of a smithery, mixturing of alchemists, and liveliness of taverns. Outside the walls, things like the flow of water, crashing of waterfalls, wavering of rope bridges, diverse footstep dins, and even varied food eating crunches were also great. However, as an overall enterprise, the game is too crowded with those aforementioned beastly wails that get very grating very fast.

Voice acting, at the least the English dub I played, wasn’t very good either, with Piranha Bytes (or whoever handled the localization) not only recasting some of their previous characters with worse VAs (Lares, Diego), but also going TES route via having a select few actors do every single voice. This would’ve been fine had there been proper ADR direction, but the lip syncing is terrible and performances fluctuating - the more talented people are obviously solid; however, because the parts were clearly handed-out haphazardly, you get a scattershot inconstancy similar to Horizon Zero Dawn wherein some random joe will sound more immaculate than a major character.

Prince Charming returns as the Nameless Hero, and he’s one of those thespians I imagine could have been great with proper direction as he actually has the right chording for the script, yet flounders around way too much to render the guy a memorable protagonist of early-2000s gaming. What I mean is he does a fair job granting the Hero an everyman cadence, but the second he tries acting tough (particularly against the dragons), oh man, cringe doesn’t even begin to describe things.

Lastly, there’s the music by Kai Rosenkranz, and it’s satisfactory to a fault. A large chunk of it comes across like elongated overworld themes (your typical hodgepodge of horned melodies interrupted by guitar chords or vice-versa), but because of all the backtracking, you’ll be hearing the same tunes on-repeat, and while they never get grating, it serves to hammer in the point that the music is inherently lacking any kind of grandiosity. It doesn’t sound like you’re on a big adventure, but instead a small-scale journey with occasional strife (and yeah, I guess that makes the OST technically accurate to the game, but my point is it could have elevated things).

So in the end, Gothic II is not worth playing. It’s a step-down from its predecessor in almost every major venue, a title that, itself, was too flawed to be worth recommending. There are things I admire, and I can definitely see where the influence on later RPGs came from - there’s just a good chance that those games are better worth your time than this one.

Take this as a forewarning - when a non-Metroid game opens up with your character literally being stripped of their abilities for no other reason than a lazy respec, it’s a harbinger of bad things to come.



NOTES
+You’re able to execute certain NPCs, but not everyone like in G1. You have the option to flip to Gothic 1’s combat system, but I doubt this would’ve granted the ability.

++The worst part is the average player would have no way of knowing that you require speed potions to outrun the orcs as the game gives no indication of such (worse still, I don’t even know how you’d obtain the chemicals due to both higher-level alchemy apprenticeships being locked off and there being very few vendors on site [thank the Lord for console commands!]). The slew of apologists out there will claim you’re meant to use specially-marked pathways to avoid the orcs, but I can tell you there are no such things minus the initial entryway into the Valley of Mines. And even if there were, the fact that you’re granted no freedom to traverse the place willy-nilly whilst having to continuously look over your shoulder is just not fun in the slightest (at least in an action video game). I’ve also heard claims that you’re meant to employ sleeping spells, but as far as I could tell, these don’t have a huge range and would be futile against a clan of brutes + shamen.

-One of my favorite Eurojank moments occurs whenever you try to long-jump at a wall corner as it results in your character flying over it (and then some!).

-You’ll encounter a number of crates sparkling with that shimmer effect Disney used to employ in their cartoons back-in-the-day.

-Speaking of Disney, tell me the JoWooD Productions animation logo wasn’t inspired by the classic Disney World castle one?

-Gothic II boasts a few solid CG cutscenes.

-NPC patterns are pretty varied: you’ll see them chat, go about their workday, eat food, enjoy the nightlife, relieve themselves, and of course sleep. It’s a shame their convos with each other are so dang repetitious.

-If you reload a save file, any spell you’ve cast or torch you were wielding doesn’t return. The reloads themselves are very quick, though in some ways too quick - you can literally see the NPCs easing back into their walk/sit pattern upon booting.

-There are times where the script doesn’t match what is being said by the characters.

Quality superhero films may be the norm these days, but in hindsight it’s strange how little we’ve gotten in the way of narratively-equivalent video games. Sure, there’s the occasionally great movie tie-in(+), but outside of the Arkham and Spider-Man series, you could count on one hand the number of solid story-driven titles out there.

It’s a shame, then, that Guardians of the Galaxy reportedly underperformed as it’s the kind of game I felt the industry really needed with regards to the comic book genre, and what makes it particularly amazing is how it manages to craft its own path whilst still staying true to the characterizations of the eponymous film. See, compared to Batman and Spider-Man, where their numerous iterations have made audiences open to new versions, Guardians is different in that most people are liable to only knowing the characters from James Gunn’s flick, and so the writers at Eidos-Montréal had a tough task before them: how do we create our own version of the team that concurrently pays homage to the comics without alienating any cinephiles?

Well, I’m not sure what their thought process entailed, but the end result was taking the core personalities personified in the movie and combining it with an original backstory, namely one in which every Guardian was a veteran of a conflict known as the Galactic War. Each member played a different role during the war, and the way such information is divulged over the course of the game goes a long way towards distinguishing its cast from their cinematic interactions. Yes, Quill is still comedic, Drax a literalist, Rocket a loudmouth, etc…etc…, but their experiences have led to them developing varied demeanors towards society as a whole. Gamora, for example, seeks some form of redemption for her support of Thanos; Rocket & Groot are purely about surviving, and Drax hunts for honor over his inability to protect his clan.

Found familyhood was cited as a major inspiration behind the tale, and I can safely say the writers successfully accomplished this task via the sheer amount of dialogue they crafted for the game. Seriously, fans of the Mass Effect or Red Dead series may find themselves in awe at the innumerable conversations typed-up for every chapter; convos that go a long way towards establishing relationships, lore, scenarios, and general camaraderie. Hearing Drax repeatedly call Gamora an assassin, seeing everyone snicker at Quill’s attempts at self-aggrandizement, or catching Rocket’s reactions to Groot’s various statements truly render the Guardians as three-dimensional people who’ve had a lot of laughs & cries along the way. No matter their disagreements, there’s a basic-level of respect amongst each peer, and while you occasionally have the option to interject with a unique response, both choices ultimately contribute to that looming amity.

I’m not exaggerating when I say GOTG has a ton of impromptu chatter -- your main hub of a ship spouts the lion’s share of these, with characters either speaking to each other out of their own volition, or engaging in ones triggered by unique items found during missions. Both moulds give-off a big Mass Effect vibe, and I was constantly amazed whenever I discerned some new interaction, whether it be petty, dramatic, or (in most cases) downright amusing.

None of this is even taking into consideration the outside convos in which characters often shout unique battle cries or make special observations should you be standing in a specific place. One of the best things GOTG does is resolve TLOU Problem I’ve had with certain narrative-driven games wherein your hero is meant to progress forward in stark contrast to the gameplay encouraging dicking around; it breaks the game’s immersion to see your next objective or companion kindly wait on you as you do whatever it is you feel like doing. By having the other Guardians actually remark on Quill’s strays off the beaten path, it goes a long way towards maintaining GOTG’s atmosphere.

In some ways, all the dialogue can get a little overwhelming, particularly for people (like myself) who suffer from FOMO: there’s a solid chance you’ll unintentionally cut-off or outright miss at least 15 percent of the optional scripting here, and that’s just something you’ll have to contend with should you wish to play the game.

Of course, no one would’ve cared about these palavers had the voice acting not been good, and that’s thankfully not the case here. Guardians of the Galaxy is interesting in that it opted for an entirely unknown cast -- I consider myself pretty well-versed in the voice acting industry, and I honestly only recognized a single name here (Andreas Apergis, and even then that was mainly because of his recurrent roles in the Assassin’s Creed franchise). That said, their unknownness doesn’t impede the project in any way as they are all terrific, embodying their characters fully as they wander amidst a full spectrum of emotions. Like I noted with the script, there was a difficult balancing act required in terms of making sure these takes on the Guardians were both similar and dissimilar from their movie counterparts, and all the actors proficiently did-so whilst rendering their characters their own. All cards on the table, I actually preferred most of these takes over the celebrityhood of James Gunn’s enterprise: Jason Cavalier grants Drax far more tragic introspective depth than Bautista ever did; Alex Weiner removes that atrocious Gilbert Gottfried inflection Cooper gave his Rocket (RIP Gottfried, but I was not a fan); and even Robert Montcalm manages to provide Groot a more-variegated personality than the one Diesel was limited to.

Given the strong vocal bounce between the characters (Rocket & Groot standing out as the best), GOTG deserves further acclamation for its robust ADR direction. See, there’s a good chance the actors did not record their lines together, and so their ability to resound like they had good chemistry owes a lot of fealty to the narrative directors for providing the appropriate context for each delivery.

There were only two voices I had issues with, the first being Jon McLaren’s Star-Lord. This may come as a surprise given that Quill is the lead protagonist and only playable character, but I did not like the inherent stoner-esque gravel McLaren provided him. Don’t get me wrong, the performance is otherwise solid; however, more often than not, I found myself thinking of a Seth Green character over a Marvel superhero.

The second is Emmanuelle Lussier-Martinez’s Mantis, though I don’t hold this against her as it’s evident the writers were going for this crazed NPC wrought with constant knowledge: the problem is, rather than do a Dr. Manhattan-type performance, they opted to portray her like Omi in that episode of Xiaolin Showdown where he gets infused with factoids from the Fountain of Hui (and yes, for the uninitiated, that’s a bad thing when done in spades).

Regardless, everyone’s performance was successfully transposed into the game via top-quality facial capture, rendering their squints and frowns through phenomenal animations. When you visibly see pain and happiness on your characters’ faces, it does a lot for the execution of the overarching story.

On that note, the narrative has its pros and cons. As I harped on earlier, the scribes do a phenomenal job developing the relationships between the Guardians: while this version of the team is already well-acquainted, it still takes place in the early part of their formation, meaning this is where you see them go from world-weary associates to the makeshift family we all know-and-love. In terms of the grand adventure you’re set out on (i.e., the campaign those interactions fall under), your mileage is going to vary. The entire game is full of heart, and there are some emotional moments that genuinely touched me to my core, but getting to those moments means engaging in standard superhero schlock wherein you’re charged with saving the universe from despair. Yes, other comic book games like Arkham Asylum and Shattered Dimensions indulged in similar premises, but I’d argue the difference is those titles were carried by their villains and a sense of mystery towards uncovering said villain’s plot. GOTG’s problem is that it’s upfront about its secrets from the get-go and, more importantly, lacks memorable antagonists: the main one, in particular, being a generic evil shroud akin to such classics as the Rising Darkness from Constantine, Galactus from Tim Story’s Fantastic 4, and Smallville’s version of Darkseid (yes, this is sarcasm). A couple of the secondary adversaries like Lady Hellbender fare a bit better, but, as they’re not a constant presence, this is a game you’ll largely be playing for the protagonists.

For the record, I had a good time with the story -- it’s well-told, has minimal pacing issues (save the end++), and would’ve worked well as an officially-published graphic novel. It’s just, post-completion, you won’t recall the majority of the chapters (the interactions within, yes, but not the events).

Thanks to James Gunn, the GOTG franchise is also permanently associated with comedy, and on that front the game works quite well. Whereas Gunn’s films were more about gags and one-liners, Eidos goes for a more situational style-of-humor wherein you’re witnessing how a coterie of charismatic individuals with sharp comportments would behave when placed in an enclosed dwelling. I wouldn’t call it laugh-out-loud, but more-so chuckle humor: you’ll smile and giggle like a schoolgirl, yet rarely twist your stomach out from hooting, and I think the tactic works great. There are times when the game tries to mimic the Gunn route; however, those scenes fall very flat and are thankfully few-and-far between(+++).

Of course, Arkham and Spider-Man didn’t get popular solely from their narratives or witticism: they had phenomenal gameplay systems to back everything up, and on that note, Guardians of the Galaxy is pretty dang good. It’s interesting that I made the comparison to Mass Effect earlier as the similarities between the two even extend to combat: you control Quill while his comrades are AI-guided, each of whom can be called upon to use a special attack against a foe or foes. Quill himself is equipped with his fists, dual blasters (primed with elemental shots obtained during set story beats), and a batch of special moves ranging from electro mines to the iconic jet boots. Much like the original Mass Effect, ammo for every tool has been replaced with a cooldown period, and there is no cover: if you’re not on the run, you’re likely to get swamped quickly (similar to Control).

With the exception of the final slot (garnered through story progression), every Guardian’s super attack has to be unlocked by way of good old-fashioned experience points gathered from combat scenarios, lending the game a bit of a lite-RPG schematic. Supplementing this are a heap of 15 additional perks players can add to Quill’s stockpile via select work benches scattered throughout most chapters, the only catch being that you have to scavenge the requisite components in the world (akin to TLOU).

Overall, fighting is fun if a bit repetitive - not every Guardian attack is practical, and their icons (save the final one) weren’t distinguished enough to avoid confusion between the useful and the useless. It also suffers from being too easy for its own good due to a number of mechanisms present even on the hardest difficulty: the option to do a one-hit KO team combo(++++) once an enemy’s health has been whittled down enough; the Huddle -- a unique feature wherein Quill can pause the skirmish, call over his team, and give everyone (including himself) an attack boost/HP recovery; and a third one I’m going to avoid stating for fear of spoilers(+++++).

Besides brawling, you’ll be conducting basic exploration involving simple puzzles that solely come down to figuring out which Guardian to employ against which obstacle. It’s a shame more wasn’t (or wasn’t able to be) done as the novel abilities specific to each alien could’ve led to some really cool environmental enigmas. In fact, part of me wonders if that was the original plan as there’s an immersive sim aspect here in the form of Quill being able to leap around and ascend most structures, only for it to not lead anywhere.

That said, the minimal scavenging didn’t bother me too much in light of how gorgeous everything is. This is one of those titles where you can tell no expense was spared, and that probably had to do with Square and Eidos’s well-intentioned belief that the GOTG IP was fertile enough for mass profit.

Well, we’ll talk about the reasons why the game faltered later, but for now, let’s at least appreciate the sheer production value on display. Guardians is interesting in that it occupies that same Jim Lee aesthetic Arkham Asylum imbibed apropos to toeing the line between photorealism and comic book poppiness (i.e., the game is liable to aging better than some of its eighth gen brethren). When it comes to the graphics, their beauty originates from three major areas: clothing, character modeling, and texture streaming.

With the first, GOTG arguably has the greatest textile work I have ever seen in a video game -- courtesy of the camera mode, I was able to zoom-in on various suits, and not a single one was shortchanged as far as detail or composition. From the individual stitches on Star-Lord’s jacket to the wear-and-tear knee creases of security guard latex to the overlapping of plate metal & linen on Gamora’s byrnie, there were so many wonderful subtleties in the wardrobe department that to list them all would drag this review out by several pages.

That same effort was continued over into the modeling, where humans and aliens alike boast pores, wrinkles, and follicles upon closer inspection. Ironically, though, it’s Groot and Rocket who deserve the most acclaim if only for the virtuosity of their respective hides: being able to glean splintered bark and singular bristles of fur on each member’s skin respectively was absolutely mind-blowing when you consider just how much easier it would’ve been to draw a single layer (what TellTale did back in 2017).

Environments maintain this quality by matching the diversity with appropriate texturization. Eidos leaned heavily on the comics and their imagination when devising the areas to throw players into, and while some of them are admittedly a bit standard (the red deserts of Lamentis; the frostbitten scape of Maklua IV), the majority do take you to some pretty sweet locales ripe with filled-in gubbins and walling. The golden-lacquered Sacrosanct and magenta-strewn matter of the Quarantine Zone are predisposed to being fan favorites, but for my own tea I personally adored the cyberpunk vibes of Knowhere where sleaze, soft lighting, neon signs, and lite-smog blended together into an evocative site.

My last major bastion of praise goes towards the personalization facets, and not in the usual sense of the term. In the past, I’ve praised devs for crafting unique spaces you could tell were tenanted by a standalone persona -- what GOTG has done is take that template and extrapolate it for the mainline species here. Heading into a Kree ship, for instance, gifts you a shelf of books with Kree rune titles, clean pipes with the Nova Corp insignia, and a general sense of orderliness. Compare this to Lady Hellbender’s gladiatorial planet, chockful of broken glass, spilled beer, and cobbled food. As you explore alien terrain, you really get a sense of prior lives and civilizations that mysteriously vanished over the course of evolution, leaving behind such remnants as hulking monoliths, structures, and carvings. It’s all superbly done.

Other miscellaneous graphical feats include unique lunge animations for each Guardian when jumping gaps, cold air breaths in subzero climates, natural finger movements when rotating examinable objects, Quill putting his hands up when approaching fiery pits, reflective surfaces from puddles, gold tiling, and tiny mirrors; the pose algorithm during 1-on-1 counsels being very organic (compared to Valhalla’s constant arm-crossing), character subtitle names boasting different colors, how Quill turns his head towards the current speaker, and, most vivid of all, the entirety of Kosmo -- this is a psychic dog you’ll infrequently run into during the course of the game, and I have to imagine someone at Eidos either grew up with golden retrievers or put mo-cap dots around a real one as, as any dog owner will tell you, everything about his canine behavior was pitch perfect: the constantly darting stare, twirling of his tale, twitching of his eyebrows, the effervescent panting -- for all his ESP, he may ironically go down as the most accurate dog in video game history.

I did have some complaints, but they concerned relatively minor stuff like the lack of footprints on powdery exteriors, Groots root bridges clipping the ground, and Quill occasionally acting jittery during dialogues.

SFX, unfortunately, was the sole area undercompensated by the devs in that it’s inconsistent to a trained ear. For starters, not much went in the way of footstep differentiation, with ice & metallic platforms, and beds & tile floors bearing the same din as their paired twin. There were times where I’d hear the crunch of snow pellets on surfaces they were minimally scattered on, while the bulk of each Guardian’s abilities (save Quill’s) were sonorously indistinguishable. Effort did go into individuating every team member’s movements, and jumps did come programmed with that distinctiveness I sought; however, it was otherwise rather basic for a game of this caliber. Don’t get me wrong, nothing’s distracting, you just won’t be immersed in any planet’s auralscape.

Finally, the OST by Richard Jacques (which, by the way, was much harder to find than it should have been courtesy of Eidos opting to promote the licensed mixtape instead) is solid, if a little derivative. Let me explain so I don’t come off as pretentious or condescending: ever since Alan Silvestri pioneered that massive symphonic sound in The Avengers, a lot of Marvel-based composers have incorporated aspects of that into their scores. It’s certainly a wise decision with regards to maintaining a familiarity to audiences, but it does come at the cost of that uniqueness we used to get in superhero music pre-Avengers. As a result, you’ll hear a lot of recognizable motifs despite the soundtrack being its own set of arrangements -- I’m talking electric guitar riffs, Greek-inspired choral harmonies, pounding brass, and crescendos galore. Thankfully, Jacques does give us one of the best comic book themes to come out in a while; however, in respect to the rest of his compositions, they’re good at the expense of not rising to that same level of memorability.

Per my earlier remark, Eidos spent a lot of money licensing popular 80s hits that you can either manually play on the ship or randomly hear during those aforestated Huddles. I know there have been, and will be, a lot of people who enjoy the substance, but part of me wonders whether or not it was a good idea. As I keep harping on, GOTG was clearly an expensive game to make, and considering how little you’ll hear the music (being off-ship/infrequently using Huddles), it begs the question of how much money could’ve been saved instead by hiring a band to create 80s-inspired tunes.

Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have helped much considering most critics blame the poor reception of the Avengers game for GOTG’s financial disappointment. It’s a tragically valid connection, and combined with the game not releasing adjacent to any of the mainline movies, it sadly wasn’t able to stand on its own. Zack Snyder got a lot of sh!t for his flavor of the week comment years ago, but the fact of the matter is he was right to an extent: certain characters only achieved profitability because they were specific versions crafted in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Outside of that ecosystem, it was always going to be a struggle for any hero not named Batman, Spider-Man, or Wolverine to succeed.

It’s been almost three years since GOTG released, and with no signs of a sequel, we have to accept the game for the unique specimen it was. It’s rare we get superhero games of this quality, and will be even rarer as the MCU goes through a post-Bubble period, but let it be known that, for all my complaints, this was an exquisite product well-worth your money.



NOTES
-Before addressing anything else, I should mention that there is a choice system in the game, but it’s more akin to the first Witcher or Deus Ex wherein it impacts the flow of events rather than causing multiple endings. When it involved hard gameplay, I was fine with it; however, there was an instance in one of the story climaxes where it ruined the moment (you’ll know it when you see it).

+Spider-Man 2, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Batman Begins, and, heck, I actually liked the Iron Man one.

++Without spoiling, basically it indulges in the cliche fake-out tactic that’s been overdone by this point. You don’t even get a proper end boss, though not that it would’ve mattered as the boss fights here are mediocre: not Arkham Asylum bad, but arguably lower than Insomniac’s first Spider-Man.

+++The worst involves a scene where Quill has to do improvised karaoke (trust me, you’ll know it when you see it).

++++The finishers themselves aren’t that exciting, being a series of hard cuts of each Guardian doing an attack on the target. A little strange considering standard melee combos often result in your Alien brethren actually conducting a coordinated strike alongside Quill.

+++++All I’ll say is it involves Groot’s final unlockable power, its essence simultaneously diminishing a certain “emotional” story beat.

-Similar to Metroid Prime, Quill’s visor enables him to examine enemies and environs for pieces of supplemental data, but the game unfortunately doesn’t pause background conversations for the latter, meaning you’re forced to read them quickly lest you get interrupted.

-The writers created their own profanity for the characters to gleefully indulge in.

-Why does Mantis have Hela’s garb?

-Tell me Gamora’s VA doesn’t sound like Leela from Futurama?

-There’s a glowing red digital billboard in Knowhere that displays ads for a McDonald’s rip-off. I bring this up because I actually saw a similar hoarding in Shinjuku albeit for a Wendy’s, making me wonder if it was inspired by that?