The Forgettable Home Run of ‘Astral Chain’
Astral Chain wasn’t immediately on my radar for 2019, but it instantly smashed through all expectations as review after review praised it as a contender for game of the year. And the hype of my recent playthrough of NieR Automata, not to mention my love for the theatrical elements of anime, led me to pick up a copy of the game when it launched this summer. I was convinced that if Astral Chain looked as good as it reviewed, it would be a game changer.
For a game trying to pull off graphical fidelity at the level of other Platinum Games titles on the Nintendo Switch, I was instantly impressed when the game punched through the ceiling of what I anticipated. By the game’s end, I didn’t have a thing to critique in terms of the game’s performance. In fact, Astral Chain rivals for one of the best looking games ever for the Switch. Unfortunately, the game’s narrative kind of dissolved throughout the playthrough. I watched missed narrative opportunities fly by as rapidly as I dodged enemy attacks. And so I left the experience with the ability to confidently say I had fun with Astral Chain, but without the ability to say I will fondly remember it.
The story begins with two twins facing the aberrant reality of the astral plane ripping a hole into The Ark, a futuristic metropolis that sprawls in every direction. This astral plane erupts wormholes into the everyday reality of The Ark, causing a special police division known as the Neuron task force to take arms against the imminent threat of invading chimeric beasts from the astral plane.
These two twins join Neuron with their father, Maximilian Howard, captain of the Neuron police force. He displays grouchy but protective qualities, a typical trope most commonly present in shonen anime, as fits the tone of much of Astral Chain. The captain treats his children – one of which you choose to play and the other of which serves as an occasional aide in battle – punitively, never quite connecting with them, but is suddenly ripped away into the astral realm in a gesture of selfless protection for his children and The Ark. Astral Chain leans into this plot point heavily, with both twins teaming up against the invasion of chimeras and pushing forward towards finding and hopefully saving their father.
As the story starts to take shape, combat quickly becomes the focus of gameplay. Combat is easily the strongest and most rewarding kind of gameplay that Astral Chain offers. Your character – whichever twin you choose – harnesses the ability to tame and control the chimeric creatures from the astral plane, which creates combat situations that are intense and methodical. The relationship between your character and the legion (chimera) you’re controlling is unique to any combat I’ve played in gaming. In fact, the closest thing it reminds me of is Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, a game in which you control two characters at the same time, one with each joystick. Astral Chain’s combat feels similarly dualistic, and it succeeds tremendously.
The only real complaint I have about Astral Chain is how earnestly the game holds your hand throughout the first few hours. (Oh, and Lappy. Lappy can burn in a dumpster.) Never have I been so pestered by tutorials and explanations – not to mention redundant ones that explained to me how to perform an action that I literally just did moments before. There is a level of trust that game developers assume in their players, and apparently Platinum Games thought we’d enjoy a 200 page manual as we began the game.
But that minor critique aside, I struggle to think of anything apart from the narrative that this game doesn’t do exceptionally well. Everything about the Astral Chain formula is exemplary of the masterful game creators at Platinum Games. As a Nintendo Switch exclusive, Astral Chain pushes graphical fidelity to the hardware’s breaking point, never missing a frame or stuttering from particle effects. The graphical fidelity – from the style of character rendering and animations, the visual worldbuilding, to the interactions within that world – all feels cohesive and polished. The premise of the story is familiar but gripping, driving a consistent tone throughout the entire experience. The action is fluid, satisfying, and just challenging enough for all players to effectively advance throughout the evolving combat during the story. And the soundtrack embraces a blend of anime intro and djent metal, which works flawlessly as the gameplay flows between story and action.
But here’s the rub. Astral Chain is also the most forgettable game I have played this year.
Something about the story didn’t click for me. Maybe it’s the ambient time between sidequests. Maybe it’s the predictable arc that traces through the first 85% of the game’s narrative. (The ending does have some interesting tone shifts and plot developments, which refreshes the experience.) Whatever the reason, something about Astral Chain doesn’t stick out as a storytelling signpost. The narrative, though solidified with a compelling premise, feel iterative as it unfolds. Astral Chain is a fantastic game but a lackluster story, not because the story is awful but because it promises boldness but delivers blandness.
When I think of Astral Chain, I think of the combat and the legions. Moving through the world with your legion, using them in puzzle solving ways to eavesdrop on conversations, or cleaning up patches of red corruption throughout the various levels. For some bizarre reason, I thoroughly enjoyed the mechanic of collecting litter and recycling it in a bin. Honestly, if a game can make cleaning up street trash a fun activity, imagine how fun the rest of the game is.
I think what failed to land Astral Chain as a game with lasting power arises from it’s sometimes skeletal narrative. With bold, threatening, futuristic setpieces, the game checks all boxes for what should work as a successful action game. But without the dedication to growing its core characters beyond their archetypal sketches, many of which fail to evolve throughout the game, it is difficult to care about the story that the game is trying to tell. It doesn’t feel like you’re saving The Ark from an apocalypse. It feels like the game is always insecurely reminding you that you’re playing a videogame.
Astral Chain deserves the consistently high praise it receives, with an excellent 87 on both Opencritic and Metacritic. User scores also hit a remarkable 97% recommended from critics on Opencritic and a user score of 8.9 on Metacritic, which proves that this game does nearly everything well. But I have deep doubts that the game will be influential in years to come. I don’t think people will be talking about Astral Chain in the same way that they speak about NieR Automata. And I worry that the reviews don’t accurately reflect the experience that players will take away. A game that scores this good should make some kind of cultural impact that lasts for years to come.
There’s a tendency in games journalism to pretend that reviews evenly score games on a 1-10 scale. In practice, the vast majority of reviews land within the 6-9 range on that 1-10 scale. There are many reasons for this, some notable reasons being that game journalists who receive free review copies want to maintain a positive relationship with game publishers, and that the income of many developers is directly associated with the average Metacritic score that the game they’re working on receives. It’s a pernicious cycle that ends up causing most review scores to reflect nothing accurate about the game in question. In this case, Astral Chain is a home run in every aspect of game design, but a strike out in terms of narrative delivery. You wouldn’t get that impression by looking through the reviews.
But that’s okay. Astral Chain is a welcome addition in my library. It’s a surprisingly ambitious game that never fails to impress me with its superb performance on the Switch. The game’s visual style pops out as one of the strongest of the year. And above all, it was fun. Astral Chain is worth playing, even if you forget what its about by the end.
Astral Chain has its place as a romp through some of the most polished gameplay I have seen in recent years. I just worry that it will sit on the shelf for the rest of its lifespan after you’ve played it.
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