QCF: Transistor

ast year’s PAX East left me with an overwhelming anticipation that I never thought could still manifest itself within this old jaded jerk of a player; it quickly seeded itself into a plantation of hope that gradually grew with every day it’s release date approached closer. I left the Supergiant Games booth with a tear in my eye, knowing that this day would come, when I would be able to reach full circle with their sophomore effort—Transistor.

Granted, the expectations for Transistor may have been tempered with heavy prospects, considering that it rides the coat tails of its famous older-brother Bastion, but the journey of Red and her unlikely ally doesn’t exist to simply prove that lightning can strike twice.

No, what makes Transistor so special is the message it carries; is a message that incredible narrative experiences can be achieved in video games no matter the shape, size, or budget, but more importantly—only done so because it is a video game.

Let’s get this out of the way before we go any further; Transistor isn’t perfect, it’s one of the sweetest rides you’ll go on in 2014, but it just isn’t flawless, and the cruel irony is that the charm that defines it’s greatness, is capitalized on the same fundamentals that hold it back. There are two factor in particular, but considering the game we’re evaluating here, let’s change it up a little bit, I’m going to tackle my thoughts with the story before we get to the “game” portion of the review.

Transistor tells one of the best stories you’ll encounter for years to come, better than Bastion even, and what makes the story even better is how it’s told and orchestrated within the context of a video game where the audience is still playing what they’re absorbing, and it’s done seamlessly even.  The issues however stem from the familiar story beats that aren’t just borrowed from the legend of the Kid and tangle with the calamity, there are moment where they’re downright repurposed into the setting of Cloudbank.

While the devil is truly in the details, and these series of shortcomings don’t exactly falter the immaculately paced envelopment of immersion that await you in Transistor, the inescapable sense of Déjà vu in certain developments can’t be avoided, and can create some really sigh inducing moments. Some of the safe, non-spoiler examples include the contrast of the Calamity of Bastion, and the Process of Transistor, or the heroic duty falling upon that of the unassuming and reluctant individual who only answers the call because they’re fueled by their personal sense of moral outrage to the conflict and so and so forth. It only gets worse as the story goes on, which is a shame, considering Red is infinitely more interesting and enjoyable as a character than the Kid ever was.

Still, the relationship between Red and her implied bond with the mystery-man who inhabits the Transistor sword, is portrayed magnificently in the conventions that define their struggle, without a single hint of pandering involved from start to finish. Red isn’t some mute cipher who hinges on the exposition of the Transistor, the loss of her voice truly is a loss, and playing through Transistor gradually introduces us a colorful, outspoken singer who’s able to characterize herself through a number of her own actions. A majority of the time, the Transistor sword’s dialogue only accentuates her development instead of carrying the full brunt of it—in fact, there are times where players are led to care about the sword and his plight because of Red, and her interactions and behavior within the scene. The pair organically play off one another, and create a truly engrossing team that create an atmosphere of emotion and connection that would make any buddy-cop film blush from head to toe.

Now to the game, as I mentioned before, I want to talk about the blemishes that screw up the coat of perfection that Transistor attempts to dress in; and unfortunately, it’s just more missed potential in an idea launched from a strong start.

The blend of action RPG dynamics and turn-based planning elements follow-through just as smoothly, if not more so since I first experimented with it in my preview last year, and only expand in strategic depth as you earn more functions and abilities. However, with that expansion comes, comes an escalation of difficulty, and the odds stacked against you in the enemy’s favor (hell, there’s a chart filled with potential handicaps you can give to the opposition to aid their forces against you in exchange for a bigger payoff in experience that you can mess around with.)

So eventually, you’ll reach a point where Red will fall in battle, and when that happens, you’ll  lose one of your four load-out functions temporarily; while the intentions may have been for the best, the consequence of this outcome is bit more punishing than the desire to improvise new tactics would like to have you suggest.

What makes the scheme of interchangeable maneuvering between impulsive and planned combat is that players will adapt these elements into their own style of play, which they’ll deride from whatever functions they’ll have and earn through the course of the campaign. When something like a completely customized ability that was calculated to serve a specific purpose is ripped away from you (and it will happen, because you’ll constantly battle against new foes, or familiar opponents with new/upgraded abilities) then the game is essentially forcing me out of my comfort zone.

Believe me, I see what Transistor is trying to do, by tasking me with making changes to my arsenal with the remainder of my abilities until my original function returns, I’m able to experiment and discover new play styles; the problem is that they’re all so different from one another. Long-distance, stacking, slow-burning, heavy assaulting, all of the different styles are there, but in every selection, there are going to be those styles that players simply don’t enjoy using, therefore, I was placed in a scenario where I drifted away from the battling I was once enjoying. Transistor temporarily disabling what I had worked so hard to construct didn’t liberate me with new opportunities to experiment in the end—instead, playing with these other functions felt like a chore until I got back to the fun part.

Granted, the freedoms afforded from the generously wide palate of options can help players somewhat overlook this setback because each function serves three different roles: Active, upgrade, and passive slots; players can still find use in by fashioning them in a different role that might cater to their style. Active being one of the action slots, upgrade allowing to enhance one of the active actions equipped in the slot, and passive being an overall upgrade to Red with some perk or conditioning that improves her performance. So the experimentation can still be there, but ultimately, preparing for the eventual loss to one of the key offenses within your disposal introduced a sense of anxiety that should never have come out in Transistor in the first place.

I went this direction with the review because really, everything else about the title is magnificent; the accolades achieved within this title’s production are truly jaw dropping. The presentation of the art design, and amount of attention down to the smallest nuances really set Transistor apart from any other game out there. Moments like the synced blinking of the PS4 controller’s lightbar to every word spoken from the Transistor sword to pristine detail of Red’s expressions thanks to the horsepower of Sony’s Next-Gen beast; Supergiant Games have shown that they have what it takes to truly pioneer the new age of gaming.

Regardless of how it may have performed against the expectations it had stacked against it, Transistor is a game that’s created its own set of standards and expectations to follow by and by that end, belongs in everyone’s home.