Psychonauts 2
PC, PS4, Xbox One, Xbox Series
We wonder if Tim Schafer has finally retired that Google Doc. Back in E349’s cover feature, he told us he’d been using it to collate notes ever since Psychonauts’ release: ideas that came to him over the intervening years, whether at random junctures or after meeting fascinating people who inspired him to imagine what their inner worlds might look like. Many ended up on note cards that were combined with others to form more solid concepts for the sequel’s brainspaces. By the time the credits have rolled, we’re convinced there can’t have been many left over.
Yes, Psychonauts 2’s cup runneth over with a giddy, go-for-broke energy. There is a palpable sense here of a developer seizing the unlikely opportunity it has been presented, and with the help of Microsoft’s money, going hog wild with it. This is, in every sense, a game that feels like it has been gestating in Schafer’s mind for that length of time. Occasionally that overburdens the story, not least in a lengthy recap that has to fill us in on both the events of the original and those of VR continuation Rhombus Of Ruin – a necessary evil, since the story picks up where that game left off. Even so, it could perhaps have been handled a little more elegantly.
We praised the brisk cutscenes in our preview, but there’s a glut of them here, collectively resulting in a big exposition dump near the start. It packs in references to existing characters and figures from Psychonauts lore that will leave some scratching their heads, as well as introducing a host of newcomers. Even a writer as experienced as Schafer can’t quite make it work without leaving you wishing the plot would get out of the way so you can get started. When a character later references another who “overengineers everything”, we ask ourselves if Double Fine’s CEO is making a joke at his own expense.
Though it takes a while to shift into high gear, it turns out the studio is playing the long game. The inevitable upside of such a large cast is having more brains to probe – and some of them have multiple, wildly different segments to explore. One particular mind is fragmented into three distinct parts, each of which has its own sub-areas, and once you’ve pieced together the shards there’s a fourth. And that’s not including the base, a bright, expansive hub surrounded by woodland, mines and a mysterious place called The Questionable Area, where a certain group set up camp.
By the time returning protagonist Razputin Aquato has been welcomed to Psychonauts HQ – and dumped in the organisation’s intern programme – we’ve already been on an Inception-like mind heist, having entered the brain of maniacal dentist Caligosto Roboto to find out the mastermind behind the kidnap of Psychonauts boss Truman Zanotto. It’s a thrilling tease of the invention to come as you pursue him through a gleefully disgusting world of teeth and gums, which also doubles as a quick runthrough of Raz’s existing powers. Already, the platforming feels more robust than the original, as you use the Levitation ability to roll down slopes and float over gaps with the help of an ethereal ball, while lobbing objects and pulling open doors with Telekinesis. If nothing else, it’s reassuring to play a followup that doesn’t saddle its hero with amnesia as an excuse to have us collecting abilities we earned and used a decade and a half ago. With those badges already earned, we can instead look forward to unlocking new powers.
These abilities tend to be a little more specific in their use than Pyrokinesis, or particularly Psi-Blast – though Time Bubble, which slows down spinning fan blades and fast-moving platforms, can also be used to briefly put the brakes on enemies during the sporadic combat interludes. With four powers mapped to the bumpers and triggers, you will need to chop and change on occasion, with Projection conjuring a papery double who can post himself through letterboxes to unlock doors and slide between bars to open gates. Mental Connection, which allows you to link words within thought bubbles, seems like a brilliant addition – one sequence that presents you with a succession of thoughts to tie together, each prompting a unique line of dialogue, is possibly the funniest part of the game. It’s swiftly ditched, albeit with good, and narratively relevant, reason (see Post Script) but you can still use it throughout to drag enemies toward you, or zip between stray thoughts floating in mid-air. These often provide a quick way to get to higher ground and nab more Figments: those characterful 2D sketches pertaining to the themes of the brainspace you’re currently visiting.
These are the most numerous of the collectibles scattered throughout the levels, which include the return of the physical manifestation of Emotional Baggage (purses, cases and holdalls found sobbing softly until they’re reunited with their tags) and Memory Vaults – which, when chased down and bashed open, reveal a black-and-white slideshow of sketches depicting buried traumas from the subject’s past. They’re joined by shining Nuggets Of Wisdom and Half-A-Minds, hemispheres that need pairing off to form a whole brain. Your reward for taking the time to track these down is a boost to Raz’s intern rank, effectively extra credit that can be spent upgrading his psychic abilities, whether it’s plucking items quicker and throwing them with greater force using Telekinesis, or getting your projected self to give enemies paper cuts. Purple Psitanium nuggets, meanwhile, can be exchanged for single-use restoratives or pin badges with a variety of effects, from practical to cosmetic to novelty. Having your punches produce a rainbow trail might be tempting, but then the ability to pluck chunks of earth when there are no handy objects to throw is
The upside of such a large cast is having more brains to probe – and some of them have multiple segments
more useful. Then again, why not have both? And with that remaining slot you can silence – or pixelate – your cheeky, garrulous alter ego.
Not that you should need much incentive to extend your stay in these unforgettable worlds. The trippy Feast For The Senses level featured in E349 – combining psychedelia and synaesthesia to hypnotic effect – is an obvious standout, yet there are more places to visit within this brain alone. Once you’ve located the first instrument to encourage the band to take the stage, Double Fine finds a clever way to tie them all together: an overhead-view map of this open-air rock festival around which you drive a camper van, pulling in to visit a concessions stand, or parking up to explore the nearby woods where you recruit the rest of the group. Later on, you visit the brain of a librarian, where piles of books form towers and arches, paper boats glide in lazy circles, and coloured ink spurting from the nibs of giant fountain pens forms fluid rails to grind. For a brief moment we’re reminded of another recent action-platformer – but while Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart may have the technical edge, the consistent creativity of the art direction here is second to none.
Other stages are shorter but no less inventive, full of perspective shifts and changes of scenery. A nightmarish early moment sees a corridor suddenly stretch out into the distance, the exit at the end not getting any closer no matter how hard we run. Later we find ourselves inside a multi-tier wedding cake and a coffin. If the teeth weren’t enough, another stage is built around hair; yet another builds a cityscape around the theme of germs found in worn bowling shoes. At one point, it turns into a miniature Wind Waker, with a theme that unexpectedly provides the missing link between The
Great Sea and What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor. Come the final act, we find ourselves almost taking such consistent ingenuity for granted. Rolling a Fabergé egg down a ribbon of red carpet during a brief diversion from a propagandising fairground ride? Good grief, Double Fine, come up with some new ideas.
It would be easy to become blasé about the craft that has gone into even the less successful moments: a TV-style cookery challenge in front of an audience of sentient foodstuffs eagerly volunteering to be chopped, blended and fried (and judged by a panel of hand puppets) is hardly our favourite level, but just take a moment to read that sentence back. Even if the game’s boss fights are relatively conventional and occasionally outstay their welcome, each works as a creatively staged and thematically apposite climax. Your ultimate goal, after all, is to help troubled minds reckon with their demons – essentially, manifestations of negative impulses and emotions brought about by past trauma. Defeating them is just completing their therapy.
You can forgive these moments of indulgence, then, and without them you wonder if it would be the same game. It is thrilling and not a little sad to see Double Fine pulling out all the stops, knowing it surely won’t get the opportunity to make another one, and so has to make sure every part of this universe is probed, every loose thread tied up. Long before this smart, sweet story has come to a satisfying close, it has taught us to treasure others for their flaws as well as their strengths. “We all deserve a second chance,” one character says. Schafer and company have grasped theirs.