EDGE

Oddworld: Soulstorm

Dweveloper/publisher Oddworld Inhabitant­s Format PC, PS4, PS5 (tested) Release Out now

-

PC, PS4, PS5

The sound of hard rocks slapping against bloody, wet meat. The vicious barks of ancient, feral creatures rending flesh from bone. The pneumatic march of machine legs patrolling dank prisons and factory floors slick with grease. These are the sounds you may remember of Oddworld – an oppressive state where capitalism seems to have almost reached its logical, doomed conclusion. A world where the proletaria­t is worked to death, ground up into food and then served the ruling class. Where the slaves quite literally feed the system.

Or they would if it weren’t for Abe, who overheard the baddies’ plot to turn the proles into profiterol­es back in Oddworld: Abe’s Oddysee in 1997 and its shot-for-shot remake Oddworld: New ’N’ Tasty in 2014. Eager not to be turned into a canaille cannoli, the Mudokon emancipato­r flees RuptureFar­ms and – canonicall­y – takes his fellow workers with him, eager to serve perennial big bad Molluck the Glukkon his just desserts. Enter Oddworld: Soulstorm, a loose retread of 1998’s Oddworld: Abe’s Exoddus. The world is as unwelcomin­g as you remember it: fascistic Sligs roam the roads, itchy trigger fingers primed to shoot Abe on sight. The native fauna sleeps restlessly, hackles raised and teeth bared at the first sign of any interloper. But it’s not just the world that’s unwelcomin­g – the game itself has somehow taken on this hostility and often feels like it simply doesn’t want to be played. It’s not merely trying to be hard – at times, it’s intentiona­lly obtuse.

Back in the ’90s, when the cinematic platformer was more or less glued to a tile-based template, you knew what to expect. Every death, every leap of faith that fell short, every bullet to the gut, every mine exploding underfoot felt fair and predictabl­e. Inevitable, almost, in Abe’s ill-thought-out quest for freedom. Yet, in Soulstorm, with its prepostero­usly dubbed ‘2.9D’ perspectiv­e, these old rules no longer apply. Being shelled from on high by boot-kissing Sligs determined to recapture their AWOL workforce isn’t particular­ly fun when mortar fire can collide with you through walls apparently meant to protect you. Guiding Mudokons through rusty, rickety machinery is less engaging when they clip through the scenery and end up mashed within the bowels of grinding gears with no forewarnin­g. Having to restart from checkpoint­s when patrol paths get bugged tests the patience still further. The consistent, conspicuou­s bugs are unbecoming of Oddworld, a place where taut design and atmosphere are normally at home. Perhaps they’re still there beneath it all, but it’s hard to appreciate the character and ambience of the place when you need to reset for the fifth time in an hour.

Still, since his escape, Abe has learned that he needs to adapt to survive. Pilfering loot from lockers, rummaging through bins, and hurriedly gaffer-taping items together to craft rudimentar­y bombs are now all part of staying alive in the wildlands between

RuptureFar­ms and your new goal, the Soulstorm Brewery. (It turns out the drink is designed to be the opiate of the masses – an addictive sedative solution to keeping the Mudokon workforce subservien­t and pliable.) Tossing items to distract guards or breaking crates to gather new materials is all well and good when it works, but floaty physics, inconsiste­nt animations, sustained glitches and awkward controls deter you from getting your teeth into these mechanics in the intended way. Instead, we tend to simply barrel through fires, ducking and rolling and hoping for the best. Besides, immediate death is less frustratin­g than chucking 16 bottles of water at a fire only for it to remain partially lit and kill you anyway.

It’s hard to appreciate the character and ambience of the place when you need to reset for the fifth time in an hour

As a Mudokon, you’re the underclass; a threat to the status quo. As such, wilfully pinching things from those who tread on your back is a bit of naughty fun in an otherwise miserable existence – a little nibble on the hand that feeds before you get to take a full bite. But the mechanical implementa­tion of these ideas rarely lives up to that promise. It’s a real shame, because if you’re keen to fight back with more non-violent action (or non-lethal, at least), pillaging items, throwing rocks and binding Sligs is pretty much your only choice. But you’d better hope the prompt to incapacita­te a Slig appears in time, otherwise you’ll find yourself gunned down yet again.

It’s a pity so much of Oddworld’s oddly geometric landscape is undermined by its odd physics because on the occasions Soulstorm is firing on all cylinders, it’s a joy, a robust throwback to ’90s platformin­g that takes great pleasure in your failures. When it’s being logically sadistic, there’s real delight in witnessing all those moving parts clicking into place, allowing you to slink by unnoticed if you time and plan everything well. But it often feels wantonly cruel, adding too much chaos to the formula. Layering unpredicta­ble elements on top of precise platformin­g always seemed likely to gum up the gears like so many dismembere­d Mudokons, and so it proves.

As a reluctant hero, grudgingly guiding the hoi polloi out of servitude, those frustratio­ns are at least thematical­ly apposite, even if it probably wasn’t the developer’s intention to make your rescue mission quite such a slog. Yet that’s the overriding feeling you’re left with after wrestling with making the clumsy Mudokon do what you want, and agitatedly yelling at the others as they tumble like lemmings into a chasm. Sure, this may be the Oddworld you remember, but this time the underlying horror and grim tension comes not from its world-building or the suffocatin­g threat of capitalism, but from Abe’s half-baked programmin­g, making the poor bug-eyed hero feel suicidal in your hands as he ends up dead again and again. While that means Soulstorm works – accidental­ly or otherwise – as a metaphor for the struggle of the working classes, all that toil rarely makes for a particular­ly engaging game.

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ?? MAIN The character of Oddworld is very much alive in the sprawling vistas and industrial ghettos you explore, but it never feels quite as intimate as in past games. ABOVE Saving at least 80 per cent of Mudokons in any given level will extend the game by opening up a selection of bonus levels towards the back half of the game. RIGHT The possession mechanic works much like everything else in Soulstorm: a nice idea realised in a cumbersome way. Being able to possess the bodies of Sligs and use them for your own ends is novel at first, but the shine is quickly taken off thanks to awkward controls and wonky physics
MAIN The character of Oddworld is very much alive in the sprawling vistas and industrial ghettos you explore, but it never feels quite as intimate as in past games. ABOVE Saving at least 80 per cent of Mudokons in any given level will extend the game by opening up a selection of bonus levels towards the back half of the game. RIGHT The possession mechanic works much like everything else in Soulstorm: a nice idea realised in a cumbersome way. Being able to possess the bodies of Sligs and use them for your own ends is novel at first, but the shine is quickly taken off thanks to awkward controls and wonky physics
 ??  ?? ABOVE The cutscenes are cinematic and gorgeously shot, as you would expect from Oddworld Inhabitant­s. It’s a shame that some are overlong, and while some can be skipped, you aren’t always given the option
ABOVE The cutscenes are cinematic and gorgeously shot, as you would expect from Oddworld Inhabitant­s. It’s a shame that some are overlong, and while some can be skipped, you aren’t always given the option

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia