The main issue with Enslaved: Odyssey To The West is that it’s likely to split gamers right down the middle. The bulk of your enjoyment from Ninja Theory’s latest will be derived on what you look for in a game. Do you play games for the challenge, or purely for entertainment? Those in the former camp will find little to keep their interest here beyond its sky-high production values; those in the latter will find an exceptionally-crafted adventure yarn told superbly well, and one of the best games of the year.
Whatever your gaming bent, it’s impossible to deny that Enslaved gets a lot of things right. Having on board high-profile writer Alex Garland (‘The Beach’, ‘28 Days Later’) to co-pen the game results in a warm and engaging script, with an utterly believable relationship between the two leads – Monkey, a lithe but burly beefcake with no home and no family, and Trip, a tech-savvy redhead desperate to get home to hers. It’s the gradual unfolding and transformation of this relationship, from frosty beginnings (Trip fits Monkey with a headband which allows her to control him) to… well, I’ll leave that for you to discover. Rarely has character study been handled with such skill and care, providing moments of genuine poignancy as well as true ‘LOL’ moments. I can count the number of times I’ve laughed at a game’s humour on the pudgy digits of one hand, and Enslaved deserves special commendation for delivering this oft-overlooked quality.
Pigsy – a real ladies’ man.
Much of this comic relief can be attributed to secondary character Pigsy, who steals the show when he joins Monkey and Trip on their quest in the latter stages of the game. Swarthy and crass (his belt buckle is a big pair of ruby-red female lips); he locks horns with Monkey on several occassions, and clearly harbours ambitions on Trip too. He is also crafted with such deftness that it is often difficult to decipher whose side he’s really on. On top of being the third point in a dynamic character triangle, he also provides combat support for Monkey, scrabbling to high vantage points and picking off mechs with a rusty old rifle.
Not that you’ll need it. Although we’d say that Enslaved’s combat has been unfairly derided and lambasted in some quarters, it certainly doesn’t have the depth of some of its contemporaries in this field, namely Bayonetta or Devil May Cry. That’s not to say that it is strictly a monotone experience either; some mechs sport shields that must be removed with a stun attack, some can be taken down with counter attacks after blocking, and still others must be evaded, before bringing Monkey’s staff to bear behind them. It’s all played out with very satisfying feedback, but the camera’s insistence on zooming in on every encounter can be wearying, oftentimes blindsiding you to enemies lingering behind. It’s a streamlined combat system then, but a slick one – button bashers will soon be found out and punished.
It’s not the combat, but the platforming, that will be most divisive about Enslaved. Throughout much of the game, Monkey cannot fail, and will grasp the next handhold or ledge every time, as long as the appropriate direction is being pressed on the thumbstick and the button is pressed. The traversal is entirely linear and scripted, and Monkey will never perform a jump unless he’s standing in exactly the right place. Some may grumble at the lack of challenge here, but the counterpoint is the added cinema to such a system. A fluid clamber throughout an environment, executed with grace and speed, is still uniquely exhilirating, especially as the camera swoops and soars to frame the action from the most dramatic angle. There are obstacles that add an element of timing later on in the game, as if Ninja Theory themselves decided that the platforming was a little too ‘autopilot’, but its interesting to note that these pitfalls actually hinder the feeling of flow generated throughout the game. Enslaved thrives on its momemtum – a story perfectly paced that pulls you through its action and setpieces with a confident rhythm, and these belated additions at difficulty so late in the game only impede this flow.
Besides, it is the simplicity of the platforming mechanics that allow the player to gape at Enslaved’s most impressive selling point – its gorgeous environments. Set initially in a post-apocalyptic New York, Ninja Theory rejects the notion that the world would be a sludge of brown and grey melancholia, and instead allows plant-life to inherit the earth in splashes of riotous colour and carpets of fuzzy green moss. It’s a striking departure, and a wholly successful one. Double-takes to check out a sweeping vista, spreading out as far as the eye can see, are commonplace, and often the reward for a long climb up some derelict piece of machinery. The view from the top of the windmill in Trip’s village is a particular highlight. Occassionally, the game suffers from its ambition; hectic battles with mechs in highly-detailed areas can sometimes result in a drastic drop in the framerate, and there is some noticeable texture pop-in when a scene first loads. But these are small prices to pay for such a stunningly-realised gameworld, in both originality and production.
One of the many stunning locales in Enslaved: Odyssey To The West
Not to be outdone, the character animators for Enslaved also deserve a huge pat on the back. Facial animation is possibly the best that’s ever been produced in a videogame. Subtle inflections are captured superbly; a wry half-smile forming on a character’s lips, or furtive glances sneaked beneath lowered faces, make these characters decidedly human, and are an absolute triumph. Combat animations are held to the same high standard – Monkey moves like lightning, acrobatically dispatching enemies with twirls of his staff, and oozing effortlessly between handholds across the landscape. Essentially, Enslaved is a product of an art team operating at the very top of its game, utterly confident in its own abilities.
Not everything is stellar, though. Enslaved’s primary flaw is ironically a by-product of its main success. Ninja Theory have crafted such a tight, lean, self-contained adventure that there is little replay value once you have completed it, beyond the ubiquitous collectibles of course. In Enslaved, the collectibles are a rather tedious affair. The masks are manageable and reward their collection with snippets of sensory experience much like the glyphs from Assassin’s Creed 2 provide. The tech orbs are much more plentiful, scattered liberally across every level, and take an age to pick up, often inhabiting the farthest flung corners of wide open areas. They at least affect the game itself – powering the upgrade system which allows Monkey access to new moves, better shields and increased health – but are far too numerous to bother going back a second time for, unless you are a completist by nature.
Also, for a game that prides itself on its narrative and strong plot points, the ending is rather poor, feeling at once both clichéd and abrupt, although this is a more subjective point. It doesn’t tarnish what precedes it, however, and still leaves plenty of scope for a sequel. We’re hoping that Enslaved has enough in its locker to sell well to players concerned about its longevity to see a follow-up, partly because we’re left actually caring for the characters, and partly because we’d love to see this beautiful gameworld again. Enslaved is that increasingly rare beast – a slice of refreshing originality in both approach and tone that feels like a complete package. Its charms will be entirely predicated by your gaming preferences, as indicated at the top of this review, but this is still a superbly-crafted game and a shining example of gameplay and narrative balanced just right. Buy it.