QCF: Chariot

he concept of royalty truly is a fascinating distinction within humanity’s self-imposed hierarchy over the years. The prestige and responsibility it demands is a balance of finesse and leadership that’s equally important to both sides of the crown—even when that crown might rest upon the head of a self-absorbed, entitled narcissist.

Enter Chariot; a grand mission of tribute to the fallen king, undertaken by his two most loyal retainers, as they drag and push their majesty’s wagon-eered coffin, towards the perfect resting ground for burial so that the matriarch may finally move on to the afterlife.

While the whole thing may sound like a glorified escort mission at first impression, the reality is a delightfully heartwarming test of wits and resilience against the law of physics against a lump on wheels that’s essentially an out-of-body extension of you and your buddy’s skills and abilities—with an added test of friendship thrown in for good measure.

The relationship between indentured servants and the rolling imperial sarcophagus is a symbiotic one; for all of the directing, and herding that the “cargo” demands, it also doubles as a means of traversal by way of anchoring, grappling, and bridging across any fork in the road that would be inaccessible otherwise. In addition to confronting gravity in ways you never thought possible, there are the occasional appearance of baddies and looters who will try to harm your fallen king and pillage his goods. So like any loyal subjects worth their salt, players will need to keep their wits about them, and ready themselves for a fight, that is, if the there was any real threat behind these attacks.

Even with distinction of offense between the fair maiden’s close-combat, and the dashing lad’s projectile slingshot, the combat is honestly a bit too shallow to take seriously; aside from precious treasure being lost, it’s never thieved in a fashion that’s too dramatic to concern with, and within a few mashes of the attack button, enemies are destroyed within seconds.

Sure, the hook of dragging, pushing, and reeling of the proverbial Chariot to the goal is an ingeniously simple concept that’s preened to deliver some unique bits of platforming in its own right, but the appeal of the dynamic stems from the strong bond that it molds around the level design that facilitates it’s every action.

Each level plotted within the world of Chariot is an exercise of nerve against motion; a perpetual test of the unstoppable force against the immovable object, where the only means for success lies in getting intimate with the many obstacles that lay in front of you. Aside from the labyrinthine arrangements capable of branching out all eight directions, there’s the addition of “life” and “death” paths, which as their name would suggest, provide exclusive traction the characters it applies to when approached.

The best way to describe the design of the all-too-important paths in question is to ethereal roller-coaster rails. So as an example, some scenarios may only provide “life” rails on hand, meaning the kingly deathbed will simply phase right through suspended path, hanging on to you from below like a swinging albatross.  Now let’s take that scenario, and reverse the roles, with the only difference being the importance of getting the right momentum behind the coffin going so that it’ll be able to drive on while players hang helpless below.

The stages only continue to get more and more intricate, as there are not only the little touches that’re steadily applied to the layout behind the special rails and surrounding neutral ground, but the advent of contextual switch toggles, fragile carry-on loot, and more smoothly enhance the formula to an endearingly candid effect.

The loot and treasure gathered play a deeper role than our materialistically shallow liege would suggest, as it they can spent at shop between stages towards upgrades and perks that greatly assist in making the task of chaperoning his royal highness to the final resting place a much easier one.

The storefront will offer an assortment of different equipment and enhancements like a peg to latch against a mountainside or cliff to act as a temporary means of suspending the noble cadaver’s carriage, or a canary that dual-handles the utility of a mobile lantern for dark areas, and an explosive Trojan horse for any looter in the area. The tools and gadgets aren’t an obligatory part of the adventure at it’s core, but there are a considerable asset for any player who desires absolute completion of certain levels.

While it isn’t exactly a flaw that hurts the game like the combat scarcely had, the heavily touted co-op feature that Chariot enthusiastically offers ironically adds little to anything to gameplay dynamics beyond simply sharing the experience with a friend.

The physics one would apply from the additional inertia behind the extra mass a second player would add just doesn’t exist, all of the movement and actions are trifling different from that of a solo run, more so by the fact that the only gated content involved is a variety of loot and nothing more.

This design choice does have its benefits when you factor in things like the inability for players to grief one another by way of sabotage, but the overall compromise instills a lingering feeling of missed potential for the gimmick.

The presentation is adorable in composition, and has a vibrant sense of lighting and color to its palate, which especially shines at its best within the second world—the soundtrack is mostly forgettable, with the consolation that at least it isn’t grating to the ears.

In spite of a few negligible slips along the way, there’s plenty of whimsy and joy to be found in Chariot, and it canal be boiled down to its innate ability to take everything you know and love about platforming games, and turn it all into an experience that’s familiar yet fresh to the senses, and it comes highly recommended.