After the New Play Control! versions of Pikmin and Pikmin 2 showed how precision aiming can improve the experience of tactical organization and management inherent to the series, an entry on one of the touchscreen-based handheld systems of Nintendo would seem a no-brainer. In a way, that is eventually what we got with Hey! Pikmin, but its design philosophies are so removed from the core conventions of the series that it’s hardly comparable to the image that comes to mind when one says “Pikmin on the 3DS.” The great irony here is that Hey! Pikmin is a 2D platformer, one so committed to this divergent identity that it refuses to utilize the stereoscopic 3D capabilities of the hardware, despite the obvious array of opportunities in both the numerous cutscenes seen throughout the game as well as to add a sense of depth to the design of the levels, if only for the sake of more immersive aesthetics. Setting aside any misplaced expectations, though, the prospect of a side-scrolling Pikmin platformer isn’t inherently off. In fact, much of the baseline mechanics of Hey! Pikmin’s design congruently suit the congenial spirit of mainline games. It’s never really enough to justify itself, however, as beyond the relatively commendable translation of throwing mechanics and squadron management from the console games to the handheld, Hey! Pikmin offers shockingly little in terms of new or interesting interpretations of the core ideals, and feels far too drawn out and lethargic for how simple it ultimately is.
Hey! Pikmin’s primary issue is just how needlessly slow the whole experience is. From overly long load times, to the stodgy controls and movements, and the constant interruptions of cloying cutscenes introducing new batches of Pikmin several times each level, everything feels designed to arbitrarily moderate your pacing. While the intent is clearly to maintain the more relaxed and methodical nature of the series through the restriction of movement, the lack of flexibility takes so much of the control out of the player’s hand that the whole of the experience more or less feels like you’re on rails. Sure, there are secrets to be had by uncovering alternate routes and hidden exits, but so many levels are designed around pushing you forward without a way to backtrack, often requiring you to replay a level entirely in order to get to the secret items. Rarely are these items generally worth going for either, as only occasionally do the puzzles around them challenge you enough to merit interaction. Seeing as you don’t need all the treasures to beat the game (as is tradition with Pikmin) the satisfaction in recovering these items really needs to be its own reward, but due to the nature of simply obtaining an object as soon as Olimar is close enough, you often don’t even need the assistance of the Pikmin to obtain many of the items, rendering the very nature of the gameplay moot more often than not.
The novelty of collecting treasures has also somewhat run its course now. There’s still the occasional joy in collecting an otherwise ordinary item and seeing its humorous name cataloged, but the tedious nature of collecting makes it all feel so played out this time. It doesn’t help that the motivation to collect these treasures now is rather contrived. The mission here is to convert all the objects we find into enough “Sparklium” to fuel the ship, a kind of nonsense objective designed with only enough veneer to attempt to justify the conventions of artifice. It’s even more meaningless after you realize the set amount you’re tasked to obtain can’t even be used until you rescue the Sparklium Converter from the final boss, which itself can’t be accessed until making your way through all eight sectors of the game in a linear progression of uninspired, forgettable levels. Giving the player more agency when it comes to providing a path forward was always a strength of previous Pikmin games, so to restrain the player so severely here is quite the odd choice. You don’t even have control over the Pikmin you can use in any given level, as they’re all encountered along the way, with any you keep alive by the end going off to a separate location to slowly harvest small quantities of Sparklium while you progress in the following levels.
And yet, it’s difficult to bemoan Hey! Pikmin as being outright awful. It’s not a good game by any metrics, but it’s largely acceptable on multiple fronts, and even has a handful of positive qualities in need of acknowledging. The implementation of the 3DS’s dual screens for platforming and navigation is far more comprehensive than most titles on the console, or even its originating predecessor. The levels, though simple, are pleasantly short, and their straightforward design allows for a relaxing, if uninspired, progression through the game. And, aside from being egregiously slow, the actual feel of the platforming is responsive and positive, ensuring that you’re able to traverse the levels with relative ease and little dysfunction. Beyond that, though, it’s hard to see any further qualities for the title. Hey! Pikmin generates the majority of its good will by virtue of not being actively discouraging to play, but at the same time it does little to inspire the player to engage further with its gameplay beyond the hollow proclamation of asserting your completion of the game. It’s such a shallow endeavor, evidenced very early on, and never improving upon its meager offerings even as you near the end. At best, it’s a serviceable distraction, peppered with barely enough charm and intrigue to sustain short bursts of your attention, such that you may, theoretically, pick it up enough times in passing curiosity to complete it. But the belabored pacing, threadbare mechanics, homogenous level design, and scarce framing all but undermine its mediocre framework, resulting in a game that just narrowly passes for “playable.”
Hey! Pikmin’s primary issue is just how needlessly slow the whole experience is. From overly long load times, to the stodgy controls and movements, and the constant interruptions of cloying cutscenes introducing new batches of Pikmin several times each level, everything feels designed to arbitrarily moderate your pacing. While the intent is clearly to maintain the more relaxed and methodical nature of the series through the restriction of movement, the lack of flexibility takes so much of the control out of the player’s hand that the whole of the experience more or less feels like you’re on rails. Sure, there are secrets to be had by uncovering alternate routes and hidden exits, but so many levels are designed around pushing you forward without a way to backtrack, often requiring you to replay a level entirely in order to get to the secret items. Rarely are these items generally worth going for either, as only occasionally do the puzzles around them challenge you enough to merit interaction. Seeing as you don’t need all the treasures to beat the game (as is tradition with Pikmin) the satisfaction in recovering these items really needs to be its own reward, but due to the nature of simply obtaining an object as soon as Olimar is close enough, you often don’t even need the assistance of the Pikmin to obtain many of the items, rendering the very nature of the gameplay moot more often than not.
The novelty of collecting treasures has also somewhat run its course now. There’s still the occasional joy in collecting an otherwise ordinary item and seeing its humorous name cataloged, but the tedious nature of collecting makes it all feel so played out this time. It doesn’t help that the motivation to collect these treasures now is rather contrived. The mission here is to convert all the objects we find into enough “Sparklium” to fuel the ship, a kind of nonsense objective designed with only enough veneer to attempt to justify the conventions of artifice. It’s even more meaningless after you realize the set amount you’re tasked to obtain can’t even be used until you rescue the Sparklium Converter from the final boss, which itself can’t be accessed until making your way through all eight sectors of the game in a linear progression of uninspired, forgettable levels. Giving the player more agency when it comes to providing a path forward was always a strength of previous Pikmin games, so to restrain the player so severely here is quite the odd choice. You don’t even have control over the Pikmin you can use in any given level, as they’re all encountered along the way, with any you keep alive by the end going off to a separate location to slowly harvest small quantities of Sparklium while you progress in the following levels.
And yet, it’s difficult to bemoan Hey! Pikmin as being outright awful. It’s not a good game by any metrics, but it’s largely acceptable on multiple fronts, and even has a handful of positive qualities in need of acknowledging. The implementation of the 3DS’s dual screens for platforming and navigation is far more comprehensive than most titles on the console, or even its originating predecessor. The levels, though simple, are pleasantly short, and their straightforward design allows for a relaxing, if uninspired, progression through the game. And, aside from being egregiously slow, the actual feel of the platforming is responsive and positive, ensuring that you’re able to traverse the levels with relative ease and little dysfunction. Beyond that, though, it’s hard to see any further qualities for the title. Hey! Pikmin generates the majority of its good will by virtue of not being actively discouraging to play, but at the same time it does little to inspire the player to engage further with its gameplay beyond the hollow proclamation of asserting your completion of the game. It’s such a shallow endeavor, evidenced very early on, and never improving upon its meager offerings even as you near the end. At best, it’s a serviceable distraction, peppered with barely enough charm and intrigue to sustain short bursts of your attention, such that you may, theoretically, pick it up enough times in passing curiosity to complete it. But the belabored pacing, threadbare mechanics, homogenous level design, and scarce framing all but undermine its mediocre framework, resulting in a game that just narrowly passes for “playable.”