I’ve deleted this sentence several times now, and I’ll be surprised if this one makes it in. it’s near impossible to describe Jazzpunk to someone without losing something in translation. I’ve tried for several days now to pin down exactly what makes it such an oddity, but aside from a few scribbled notes and a doodle of a geisha-fly hybrid, I’ve got nothing.

Let’s start with what we know to be factually true. Jazzpunk is a story-driven adventure set in the first person perspective. You play the part of a secret agent called Polyblank, tasked with completing assignments given to you by a strange man in a repurposed train car. Your missions will have you travelling across the world to appease your handler, stealing objects of interest and throwing spiders at people as you go.

From this point on, things are going to get a little bizarre.

My first steps into the world, and I find myself greeted with a long tunnel full of clutter. A rudimentary search of my surroundings provides the first clue that this game isn’t your average adventure, as performing my mandatory “let’s click action on everything until I activate a secret” spree sparks a conversation between me and, well… a cardboard box. As the sentient box gargles and groans aloud in an incoherent ramble, its words become projected across its surface. Not only is this piece of litter alive, it’s begging me to leave it alone because it’s “just a box”. Prodding, staring intently, and eventually climbing on top of the box failed to persuade it to say anything else so I pressed on to the first level, slightly bewildered from my encounter with a cardboard entity.

I find myself continuously drawing comparisons between Jazzpunk and the old point & click adventure games like Monkey Island. There’s a certain charm factor that exudes from every piece of dialogue, every obscure scenario that plays out, and every sexual liaison with the roaming robot prostitutes in the streets. Each interaction is set up like a witty one liner, and for the most part they land on target, leaving you either grinning from ear to ear or scratching your head in a daze of bemusement.

Jazzpunk is set up in a way that encourages exploration over progression, and by not fully searching the outer reaches of each zone you’ll be missing out on the essence of the game. Take the first mission, in which you’re plopped right in front of a Soviet office that holds your goal. You could just stroll right in and get down to business, but a closer inspection of the surrounding buildings will yield a whole host of side activities to draw focus from the main plot.

Whilst searching through the game’s different levels, you’re likely to stumble across one of the many mini-games scattered around. Whether it’s beating up a car with your fists, slaying pizza zombies, or racing across a busy street as a frog, you’re likely to crack a smile as you play out these fun homages to old school classics. Perhaps the best of these, Wedding Qake is a like-for-like copy of the old Quake FPS arena shooter. You’ll swap heavy firepower and monsters for matrimony and cake shaped mini-guns in this satisfying distraction that I may have spent more time in than I should have.

Numerous hidden paths and secrets go a long way towards breaking apart the different sections of the game. and whilst the constant quick-fire of gags starts off great, the constant barrage of jokes tallying up against you at later levels can leave you somewhat exhausted by the torrent of humour. While it’s disappointing to see Jazzpunk diminish in the later sections, it’s to be expected from something that relies on comedy to be the focal point of the gameplay.

Jazzpunk is a breath of fresh air for adventure games, and by flaunting its own flamboyant take of a number of well known gaming tropes it pulls off an excellent parody of this culture that is both unique and entertaining. While the game does start to wind down in its final moments, there’s no reason why fans of the absurd shouldn’t jump right in and face the brain melting weirdness just waiting to be discovered.

Overall Rating: ★★★★★ 

What does this score mean?

This game was reviewed using the PC version.

© 2014, The Indie Mine. All rights reserved.

Being a dad isn’t easy. With a loving wife and two rowdy children to care for, there’s little time for relaxing. “Mow the lawn” they say, “I want chocolate milk!” they scream. A normal dad might have issues juggling so many responsibilities at once. Fortunately, this is no ordinary dad. This is Octodad.

Masquerading as a doting father, you assume the role of an octopus deep undercover amongst human kind for reasons unknown. It is your first and foremost duty to remain covertly placed amongst the clever guise of your suburban family, which is harder said than done when you’re moustache is formed from two of your 8 tentacles.

Dadliest Catch picks up with our super sleuth of a hero preparing for his big day. He’s getting married to the woman of his dreams, and the game uses this special occasion to introduce you to one of the biggest features in the game. You’re given full control of Octodad’s arms and legs, toggling between controlling each set to move around or interact with the environment. If you’ve ever played the old Flash game QWOP you’ll understand instantly what kind of mayhem is waiting to ensue here, but for those who haven’t the only way I could draw a comparison would to describe it as like watching a drunk trying to wait tables. Expect everything to be broken and everyone involved to look confused or covered in questionable substances.

And that’s the magic of Octodad. You’re put into the mundane world of suburban life and asked to complete menial daily tasks most wouldn’t even think twice about, all the while having such a huge handicap that comes from having tentacles instead of opposable thumbs. Take the morning routine for example, where your fatherly responsibilities include fixing yourself and your family their morning beverages. Sounds simple enough, right? Well that soon escalates when you accidentally slap your daughter with the milk carton, and any attempts made to apologise see you wipe out every table and bookstand in tentacles reach. Breakfast is ruined, but your loving family are none the wiser to your espionage.

The game progresses, placing you in familiarly sterile environments that are just waiting to feel the squishy embrace of your flailing limbs and for the first half of Octodad things feel great. It’s entertaining beyond all reason to watch someone be so destructive whilst attempting to mow the lawn or navigate a grocery store’s narrow aisles.

However, an hour or two into the later sequences and things seem to start slipping. The levels start to become more bizarre, and considering you’re playing a game about an octopus pretending to be a man, that’s saying something. And it’s at this point where the game loses some of its momentum. Whereas before you were laughably failing to pour coffee before, later goals have you sneaking past fishermen and marine biologists in a number of stealth-based sections. It feels like an unnecessary attempt to shake things up and give the player extra content, when I’d wager having more ‘familiar’ environments and generic locales would have been enough to keep me more that satisfied with my cephalopodan antics.

Octodad isn’t a huge game by any means, and your average player will likely clear the story in two or three hours. This might be enough to put some off getting it, but with the addition of the Steam workshop, there’s plenty of scope for user-made levels to increase the longevity of the game. Already, we’re seeing faithful remakes of classic levels to wiggle through with your gelatinous limbs in tow, and with the community usually being the creative buggers that they are, it’s only a matter of time before there’s a whole host of content to keep you occupied.

There’s a great deal of humour to be found in Octodad, whether it’s a chuckle because you just climbed into the trolley of an unsuspecting grocery shopper, or from the casual complaints from your wife as you accidentally mow down her precious flower bed. Its appeal rests solely in its absurdity, and despite its decline near the end of the game, Octodad’s humour and gameplay are spot on making this a solid entry to the ‘Octopus Simulation Game’ market.

Overall Rating: ★★★★★ 

What does this score mean?

This game was reviewed using the PC version.

© 2014, The Indie Mine. All rights reserved.