Darwin’s Paradox Review – Tentacles, Problem, and Trial-and-Error – WGB

Darwin’s paradox!, which I won’t continue to use an exclamation mark because I’m lazy, the kind of game I’m always happy to see – a little daft, a lot of creativity, and built on a fun concept that doesn’t require the GDP of a small nation to produce. In a world of triple-A titles punching their weight and fun little indie games that look like they were built using duct tape and pure hope, Darwin’s Paradox who sits comfortably in the middle.

Poor little octopus Darwin has just been hanging out with his friend when a UFO just happens to pass by, abducts him, and dumps him in a food processing plant. A quick escape attempt later, and Darwin finds himself in a large courtyard outside an attractive factory churning out suspicious food that the world seems strangely addicted to. All this because Ufood wants to create a new type of special delicacy: octopus soup. It’s not a good day to be a sailor with many legs.

That’s storytelling Darwin’s Paradox employment is very pleasant. As an octopus, you simply focus on escaping the dilemma you find yourself in, dealing with whatever problem lies in front of your tentacles. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, a global conspiracy is unfolding – which you will accidentally bring down.

As you swim and climb your way to freedom, you will encounter strange machines, press a few buttons that should never be pressed, meet all kinds of strange creatures, and witness the most sinister plans to rule the world. You will disrupt all those plans just by being there.

There is also no dialogue. Instead, it relies entirely on slapstick humor and a very expressive octopus who has no problem talking about how completely he’s done with all of this. I wouldn’t call it funny-sounding, but it kept a constant smile on my face, and Darwin himself is an instantly likable character. There’s a strong Pixar-esque vibe here where the game goes really well.

That Pixar power is at its strongest in the short but interesting animated cutscenes, where Darwin’s personality really shines through – equal parts confusing and slow. But it carries over to the gameplay as well, thanks to some surprisingly smooth animation work. The big chase sequence is a particular highlight, the camera pulling back to let you in on the mayhem as, for example, you climb a falling building like it’s just another Tuesday.

Like the octopus, Darwin apparently doesn’t know that directions other than left and right exist, which is funny in a transparent 3D world where most problems can be solved by simply moving forward a little. Ah well. Octopuses are smart, but apparently not that wise. The point is: this is a hidden side-scroller. Or a side swimmer, if you will.

In the water, Darwin is graceful and agile. On the ground, he can stick to many places, which means a lot of climbing up walls and crawling on ceilings. He can also cloak himself to stay hidden, and emit blasts of ink to hide cameras or disable electronics.

Using his many sea-born non-solving talents, Darwin must overcome many obstacles, mostly involving making platforms, simple puzzles, and hidden stages that turn the game into a platform. Steel Cast Iron Octopus Edition. Which is appropriate since the demo of the game was based on reality Steel Cast Iron.

Of course, stealth sections. This is both exciting and frustrating in almost equal measure, mostly due to what feels like a lack of proper playtesting. At one point, I was spotted just because I walked into the room before the camera finished capturing. At one point, I got hit by a security guard because I stopped to hide where he decided to leave. There was nothing I could do, it was pure bad luck. But it wasn’t the first time I was seen or blown up like a balloon by things I wasn’t under.

These aren’t game-breaking stories, and the game even makes failure fun with some fun death animations – Darwin often appears as a confetti balloon. But they contribute to the slightly annoying trial and error that develops with every episode.

And … is that a Steel Cast Iron effect of noise when Darwin was observed? A nice nod, given that Konami is publishing. Every other game goes better. Sometimes you’re running away from Steve the Seagull on a movie set that includes collapsing buildings, sometimes you’re plunging into strange waters to chase away swarms of angry rats. There’s a solid variety of things on offer, all made more enjoyable by the visuals, in particular Ratchet & Clank-esque NPCs roam around.

The platforming holds up well in these times. It’s satisfying to crawl through places, even if Darwin is a little deaf again adhesive on hard surfaces. While the game sometimes flirts with platform accuracy without having solid controls to back it up, most of the time it’s fun guiding Darwin through hazards like hot pipes, giant cogs, and unwary workers below.

That said, trial and error issues can sometimes be seen as the drunken relative in a marriage. Two sequences involving a big fish fishing for big criminals, forcing you to scrounge in search of a safe route with no time to think and no clear way forward. Proceeding often leads to death several times until you memorize the correct route.

Moments like this led to a mini meltdown where I told Darwin and the rest of his game to play before turning the console off for the night. The only problem here is between the game’s beautiful graphics and the sudden desire to make me git gud, scrub.

However, any frustration rarely lasts long. About seven hours, Darwin’s Paradox it doesn’t overstay its welcome, and the individual parts flow well enough to keep you going before things get too old.

However, there is one strange decision that really confused me. The game opens with a tutorial where your octopus pal teaches you how to use ink and hide. But once the tutorial is over, so are you in a way get lost those skills, only to relearn them later through flashbacks… to the same squid… which teaches you the same skills… in completely different times.

What is that about?

Darwin’s Paradox easy to love. It’s cute, creative, and full of personality, with a small expressive octopus that gets the most out of its seven-hour run.

It just won’t go out of its way. Difficult manipulation, frustration of trial and error, and a few odd design choices hold it back from being something truly special.

Still, when it clicks, it’s pure joy—and to be honest, I’ll take something weird and creative over another bloated blockbuster any day.