Shoddy online play is possible and perhaps encouraged, though if there’s one game that would most benefit from local multiplayer it’s this one. We’re locked in with our families and children, or alone, and nothing brightens a day up better than a clumsy football match in Gang Beasts. Luckily, given the global stay-at-home mandate, this is where a lot of us live now. Gang Beasts lives in that slightly drunken emotional halfway house, where you’re too frazzled to do anything that requires actual thought but still keen to belly-laugh at playground-style one-upmanship.
There’s a very specific kind of pleasure in hoisting a jelly baby into the air with another dressed like Rick from Rick and Morty and tossing it into a whirring mechanical crusher, but it’s not the kind of pleasure you’d want all the time. Beyond a smattering of stages, each with its own sneaky gimmick, there’s little to do in Gang Beasts beyond imprecisely wail on each other – or the AI, if you fancy taking on the Waves mode. This kind of blunt slapstick can’t stay entertaining forever, which is a shame since the game coasts on its core appeal at the expense of features.
You’re not supposed to know what you’re doing, I don’t think, which is half the fun the rest is in the unpredictable physics and simplistic but enthusiastically cruel levels.
It’s all governed by a nebulous control scheme that I’m still not sure I understand, with shoulder buttons reaching and grabbing and everything else triggering drunken versions of jumps, headbutts and dropkicks.
#Gang beasts review tv
This is what Gang Beasts looks like if you play it solo, doing arbitrary things for achievements or your own amusement or whatever, but it’s really supposed to be tackled by a group, who cluster around the TV to steer what look like jelly babies playing dress-up through fistfights and grappling matches.
0 kommentar(er)
