The early hours of Pikmin 2 immediately bring to mind all the qualities one looks for in a sequel entry: refinement, expansion, and a maintaining of the spirit while also taking the series in new directions. The small changes Pikmin 2 presents to the core formula established by the first game radically shifts the player’s approach to gameplay in a multitude of refreshing and unexpected ways. The most notable one, to start, is the axing of the pendulous time limit suspended across the game in favor of a more relaxed goal of simply accruing a set amount of treasure before initiating the first credits roll. What this allows for is a shift in priorities for the player, focusing less on optimizing the gathering of items and maximizing the amount retrieved in a single day, creating instead the necessary time and space for the player to accrue resources and make preparations for the daunting challenges awaiting in the game's many caves.
Caves are the primary source of strategic challenge which was previously supplied by the overarching time limit in the prior game. Each one proposes an arduous trek to the bottom, prompting the player to dispatch all manner of enemy and obstacle along the way, most of which guard the various treasures you’ll need to reach the game’s ultimate goal. The narrow spaces and treacherous hazards encountered in these caves, including new, deadlier, environmental obstacles, make some of the later undertakings especially hardcore. It is, however, less the hazards and enemies themselves that supply the challenge, but the fact that you are unable to spawn new Pikmin while in the midst of any given spelunking venture. Like the first game, a philosophy of general leniency is employed to give players the space to make mistakes and still be able to recover from them. The game saves your progress after each floor, allowing you to reset without redoing the entire dungeon, which is especially beneficial in cases of the randomly-generated layouts rendering themselves unfavorable in certain sections of the game. Additionally, the longer caves often have rest levels, where you’re given the chance to restock on certain valuable resources, and even regain some of your lost troops in the case of specific rare flowers which can sprout additional Pikmin for you.
Perhaps most importantly, the nature of the caves engage the player in ways which more naturally instruct on combat—far more than the first game ever managed to. The forgiving nature and largely open spaces of the first Pikmin meant that even if you lost a significant portion of your troops in combat, you were never punished severely enough that you needed to alter your strategy. It was always viable to simply throw an entire army of Pikmin at a problem, and then recover from whatever losses were incurred. The overarching time limit of the game was the only disincentive to this tactic, but never enough that one would have to engage with combat in a more strategic manner. The limiting nature of the caves prevent this method outright, while their labyrinthian corridors encourage a more considered approach to enemies within the dwellings. The effectiveness of this methodology is evidenced by the introduction of the first of two new Pikmin types in the game’s very first cave, which boast an incredibly utilitarian array of combat-centric skills, in addition to being able to lift ten times the amount of any other Pikmin type.
Purple Pikmin are an insanely powerful asset you quickly learn to utilize effectively but sparingly, due to their precious nature. Unlike your primary Pikmin colors, the newly added Purple and White Pikmin have no means of multiplying ad infinitum, making them especially more valuable when obtained. The tradeoff for this (for Purples, anyway) is an incredible utility that allows you to mow through many enemies, and even bosses, with only a handful of fighters, due to the stun-locking property they possess when thrown. For many of the most common enemies, their existence is trivialized by the existence of Purple Pikmin, but the ability to clear out entire areas using only a small retinue of about eight to ten Pikmin is invaluable for navigating through the caves without losing large swaths along the way. Additional elemental enemies ensure that you can’t just steamroll past every challenge with only Purples in tow, while their lumbering disposition often puts them at risk when dealing with a larger number of enemies at once. While they’re ultimately a bit overtuned in their abilities—particularly when compared to their albino brethren—their incredibly powerful assets in tandem with their scarcity encourage more strategic considerations when entering a cave, especially as the levels and boss fights become increasingly more puzzle-like as the game goes on.
Most of the initial boss fights encountered in the early game of Pikmin 2 are repeats of by now iconic bouts from the first game. Once again we are pitted against the likes of the Burrowing Snagret, the Beady Long Legs, and the Emperor Bulblax, all of whom appear easier than their prior incarnations. However, later caves build upon the familiar patterns of these previous encounters, giving us such harrowing challenges as the newly mobile Pileated Snagret, the mechanized Man-at-Legs, and infinitely-breeding Empress Bulblax. Each of these fights proves to be a worthy culmination of the respective gauntlets endured by the end of their caves, as well as the completely new bosses with entirely distinctive gimmicks to work out. A number of these fights unfortunately suffer from being repeated in later dungeons, usually with an additional gimmick which only succeeds in frustrating and complicating the fight, rather than adding an additional layer of strategy or challenge. The final boss thankfully avoids any irritating pitfalls, making use of every kind of element and hazard thus encountered for a truly climactic battle. The most memorable fight, however, comes not at the end, or even the bottom of any of the caves, but on the first level of the Submerged Castle, where you’ll almost certainly confront the infamous Waterwraith for the very first time. This adversary is less a test of player skill or combat prowess; it’s more an exemplar of well-engineered design intent on instilling blood-curdling fear through a musically-lead oppressive atmosphere and tension-torquing subversion. The effect is so successful that the specter of the Waterwraith hangs in the air, the anxiety creeping back in as you explore new caves, fearing it might drop unexpectedly from the ceiling again.
For all the ways in which the caves of Pikmin 2 reinvigorate and expand upon the philosophies established by the first game, they’re also the embodiment of the game’s most lackluster element. Because each cave is randomly generated from a predetermined set of repeating and interchangeable environments, the vast majority of visual renderings experienced in a playthrough end up feeling bland and indistinct. The overworld areas are not a particular reprieve either. Whereas the first Pikmin featured four bespoke and environmentally diverse areas to explore across its playtime, the main areas of Pikmin 2 are largely similar to one another, and lack any kind of memorable locales or set pieces. The layouts of these areas often push players towards a specific objective, hampering the open-ended sense of exploration these games otherwise engender. One of the core appeals of Pikmin, conveyed initially by the first game, is the shrunk-down perspective of a familiar world rendered fanciful by way of a humorously alien perspective; despite falling short in regards to the visual expectations for the game, Pikmin 2 still retains the innate charm and splendor of the series through clever writing and humorous commentary, inspired by the story’s conceit and real world analogues.
One of the most surprising factors of Pikmin 2 is its value as a work of satire. It’s not particularly deep in this regard, but the repeated emphasis on, and acerbic derision of, capitalist greed and exploitation, leads to a more thoughtful experience than one would initially expect. Its commentary goes beyond the simple dichotomy of rapacious executives and subjugated workers, taking into consideration the underlying imperialist foundation for Captain Olimar’s relationship to the Pikmin. The story goes like this: a foreign explorer is contracted by his employer to extract valuable resources and treasure from an uncolonized land, utilizing the labor of the native inhabitants and decimating the natural ecosystem in the process. While Pikmin 2 is ostensibly still a cozy game built around the aesthetic appeal of exploring naturally-presented environments, those weighty social critiques remain inescapable when considered beyond face value.
Is it ironic, then, that the “treasures” Captain Olimar pilfers upon his journey would often be considered relative junk to us? The first of these items found in the game is a Duracell branded battery, the first of many humorously identifiable objects recognized from our everyday life. Skippy peanut butter, Carmex lip balm, an old 7-Up bottle cap—these are but a handful of familiar items encountered when playing Pikmin 2. The resonant tangibility of these extant materials helps the sentiment of the game’s commentary feel more applicable, while maintaining a trademark sense of whimsy through playful naming schemes. The dialogue and character exchanges aren’t the only places where the writing of Pikmin 2 shines, though. The end of day diary entries from Olimar are supplanted here by a short correspondence letter from your boss, chronicling his plight in evading vicious loan sharks and hiding out underneath a bridge. Similarly, there is a treasure trove of detailed entries on every item you collect and enemy you defeat, building upon the zoological observations of the creatures you’ve encountered and postulating over the perceived purpose of every treasure you’ve come across. It makes for a nice break in gameplay, relaxing between days by reading up on all the things you’ve seen and filling out your perspective of the world through the lens of these wide-eyed explorers.
It is undeniable that Pikmin 2 achieves so much, and constantly delights and surprises with its many new additions and twists. It never feels quite as iconic and instantly understood as its predecessor, but in many ways it surpasses it through sheer mechanical ingenuity. The way it engages you to understand and appreciate the nuances of its systems, instructing and encouraging you to think more strategically without forcing you to suffer in the process; the way the sly contortions of the game’s writing leads to a far more satisfying thematic experience than one would ever expect from an otherwise guileless series; the way that such a seemingly benign decision like making the products you collect correlate with actual objects you see and use in life dramatically effects the immersive feeling of the game to an almost inexplicable degree. This feature in particular was removed for the recent Switch port of the game, so I felt even more assured when setting out to play the Wii version specifically, which still retains this (in my opinion) essential experience to the game. The general blandness plaguing the environments and occasional bullshit complicating later dungeon expeditions seem to hurt all the more, because had these pitfalls been avoided Pikmin 2 might just be the undisputed greatest game of its kind. But in spite of this, it’s still phenomenal, and appreciated even more for being so distinct from the game that came before it. You need not compare the two to appreciate how they both excel in different ways, but it’s nice to, just the same, as in doing so you unveil how flexible and wide-reaching an essential Pikmin experience can be.
Caves are the primary source of strategic challenge which was previously supplied by the overarching time limit in the prior game. Each one proposes an arduous trek to the bottom, prompting the player to dispatch all manner of enemy and obstacle along the way, most of which guard the various treasures you’ll need to reach the game’s ultimate goal. The narrow spaces and treacherous hazards encountered in these caves, including new, deadlier, environmental obstacles, make some of the later undertakings especially hardcore. It is, however, less the hazards and enemies themselves that supply the challenge, but the fact that you are unable to spawn new Pikmin while in the midst of any given spelunking venture. Like the first game, a philosophy of general leniency is employed to give players the space to make mistakes and still be able to recover from them. The game saves your progress after each floor, allowing you to reset without redoing the entire dungeon, which is especially beneficial in cases of the randomly-generated layouts rendering themselves unfavorable in certain sections of the game. Additionally, the longer caves often have rest levels, where you’re given the chance to restock on certain valuable resources, and even regain some of your lost troops in the case of specific rare flowers which can sprout additional Pikmin for you.
Perhaps most importantly, the nature of the caves engage the player in ways which more naturally instruct on combat—far more than the first game ever managed to. The forgiving nature and largely open spaces of the first Pikmin meant that even if you lost a significant portion of your troops in combat, you were never punished severely enough that you needed to alter your strategy. It was always viable to simply throw an entire army of Pikmin at a problem, and then recover from whatever losses were incurred. The overarching time limit of the game was the only disincentive to this tactic, but never enough that one would have to engage with combat in a more strategic manner. The limiting nature of the caves prevent this method outright, while their labyrinthian corridors encourage a more considered approach to enemies within the dwellings. The effectiveness of this methodology is evidenced by the introduction of the first of two new Pikmin types in the game’s very first cave, which boast an incredibly utilitarian array of combat-centric skills, in addition to being able to lift ten times the amount of any other Pikmin type.
Purple Pikmin are an insanely powerful asset you quickly learn to utilize effectively but sparingly, due to their precious nature. Unlike your primary Pikmin colors, the newly added Purple and White Pikmin have no means of multiplying ad infinitum, making them especially more valuable when obtained. The tradeoff for this (for Purples, anyway) is an incredible utility that allows you to mow through many enemies, and even bosses, with only a handful of fighters, due to the stun-locking property they possess when thrown. For many of the most common enemies, their existence is trivialized by the existence of Purple Pikmin, but the ability to clear out entire areas using only a small retinue of about eight to ten Pikmin is invaluable for navigating through the caves without losing large swaths along the way. Additional elemental enemies ensure that you can’t just steamroll past every challenge with only Purples in tow, while their lumbering disposition often puts them at risk when dealing with a larger number of enemies at once. While they’re ultimately a bit overtuned in their abilities—particularly when compared to their albino brethren—their incredibly powerful assets in tandem with their scarcity encourage more strategic considerations when entering a cave, especially as the levels and boss fights become increasingly more puzzle-like as the game goes on.
Most of the initial boss fights encountered in the early game of Pikmin 2 are repeats of by now iconic bouts from the first game. Once again we are pitted against the likes of the Burrowing Snagret, the Beady Long Legs, and the Emperor Bulblax, all of whom appear easier than their prior incarnations. However, later caves build upon the familiar patterns of these previous encounters, giving us such harrowing challenges as the newly mobile Pileated Snagret, the mechanized Man-at-Legs, and infinitely-breeding Empress Bulblax. Each of these fights proves to be a worthy culmination of the respective gauntlets endured by the end of their caves, as well as the completely new bosses with entirely distinctive gimmicks to work out. A number of these fights unfortunately suffer from being repeated in later dungeons, usually with an additional gimmick which only succeeds in frustrating and complicating the fight, rather than adding an additional layer of strategy or challenge. The final boss thankfully avoids any irritating pitfalls, making use of every kind of element and hazard thus encountered for a truly climactic battle. The most memorable fight, however, comes not at the end, or even the bottom of any of the caves, but on the first level of the Submerged Castle, where you’ll almost certainly confront the infamous Waterwraith for the very first time. This adversary is less a test of player skill or combat prowess; it’s more an exemplar of well-engineered design intent on instilling blood-curdling fear through a musically-lead oppressive atmosphere and tension-torquing subversion. The effect is so successful that the specter of the Waterwraith hangs in the air, the anxiety creeping back in as you explore new caves, fearing it might drop unexpectedly from the ceiling again.
For all the ways in which the caves of Pikmin 2 reinvigorate and expand upon the philosophies established by the first game, they’re also the embodiment of the game’s most lackluster element. Because each cave is randomly generated from a predetermined set of repeating and interchangeable environments, the vast majority of visual renderings experienced in a playthrough end up feeling bland and indistinct. The overworld areas are not a particular reprieve either. Whereas the first Pikmin featured four bespoke and environmentally diverse areas to explore across its playtime, the main areas of Pikmin 2 are largely similar to one another, and lack any kind of memorable locales or set pieces. The layouts of these areas often push players towards a specific objective, hampering the open-ended sense of exploration these games otherwise engender. One of the core appeals of Pikmin, conveyed initially by the first game, is the shrunk-down perspective of a familiar world rendered fanciful by way of a humorously alien perspective; despite falling short in regards to the visual expectations for the game, Pikmin 2 still retains the innate charm and splendor of the series through clever writing and humorous commentary, inspired by the story’s conceit and real world analogues.
One of the most surprising factors of Pikmin 2 is its value as a work of satire. It’s not particularly deep in this regard, but the repeated emphasis on, and acerbic derision of, capitalist greed and exploitation, leads to a more thoughtful experience than one would initially expect. Its commentary goes beyond the simple dichotomy of rapacious executives and subjugated workers, taking into consideration the underlying imperialist foundation for Captain Olimar’s relationship to the Pikmin. The story goes like this: a foreign explorer is contracted by his employer to extract valuable resources and treasure from an uncolonized land, utilizing the labor of the native inhabitants and decimating the natural ecosystem in the process. While Pikmin 2 is ostensibly still a cozy game built around the aesthetic appeal of exploring naturally-presented environments, those weighty social critiques remain inescapable when considered beyond face value.
Is it ironic, then, that the “treasures” Captain Olimar pilfers upon his journey would often be considered relative junk to us? The first of these items found in the game is a Duracell branded battery, the first of many humorously identifiable objects recognized from our everyday life. Skippy peanut butter, Carmex lip balm, an old 7-Up bottle cap—these are but a handful of familiar items encountered when playing Pikmin 2. The resonant tangibility of these extant materials helps the sentiment of the game’s commentary feel more applicable, while maintaining a trademark sense of whimsy through playful naming schemes. The dialogue and character exchanges aren’t the only places where the writing of Pikmin 2 shines, though. The end of day diary entries from Olimar are supplanted here by a short correspondence letter from your boss, chronicling his plight in evading vicious loan sharks and hiding out underneath a bridge. Similarly, there is a treasure trove of detailed entries on every item you collect and enemy you defeat, building upon the zoological observations of the creatures you’ve encountered and postulating over the perceived purpose of every treasure you’ve come across. It makes for a nice break in gameplay, relaxing between days by reading up on all the things you’ve seen and filling out your perspective of the world through the lens of these wide-eyed explorers.
It is undeniable that Pikmin 2 achieves so much, and constantly delights and surprises with its many new additions and twists. It never feels quite as iconic and instantly understood as its predecessor, but in many ways it surpasses it through sheer mechanical ingenuity. The way it engages you to understand and appreciate the nuances of its systems, instructing and encouraging you to think more strategically without forcing you to suffer in the process; the way the sly contortions of the game’s writing leads to a far more satisfying thematic experience than one would ever expect from an otherwise guileless series; the way that such a seemingly benign decision like making the products you collect correlate with actual objects you see and use in life dramatically effects the immersive feeling of the game to an almost inexplicable degree. This feature in particular was removed for the recent Switch port of the game, so I felt even more assured when setting out to play the Wii version specifically, which still retains this (in my opinion) essential experience to the game. The general blandness plaguing the environments and occasional bullshit complicating later dungeon expeditions seem to hurt all the more, because had these pitfalls been avoided Pikmin 2 might just be the undisputed greatest game of its kind. But in spite of this, it’s still phenomenal, and appreciated even more for being so distinct from the game that came before it. You need not compare the two to appreciate how they both excel in different ways, but it’s nice to, just the same, as in doing so you unveil how flexible and wide-reaching an essential Pikmin experience can be.