Caravan SandWitch

Everything about Caravan SandWitch is on the verge of success. It's not only that the inherent pun in the game's name isn't tacky, it's that the game's combination of exploration, storytelling and Metroidvania-style gameplay loop creates that sense of discovery that is so crucial to the game's entertainment value, it's also that the game manages to tell a classic but well-functioning story.

Is "just about" a quality in itself? Well, that's the big question, but it's easy to appreciate developer Plane Toast's level of ambition and their need to focus on the breadth of the experience. It gets them part of the way, even as far as a recommendation from yours truly, but barely missing the finish line is unfortunately a recurring theme.

You're Sauge, heading back to his home planet of Cigalo, which, after an exit from a global business consortium, has fallen on hard times. Research has left parts of the planet uninhabitable, while lack of investment has caused the remaining residents to relocate. Sauge thought her sister had died under mysterious circumstances a handful of years ago, but suddenly her spaceship emits a signal from the surface of Cigalo and Sauge, who had moved to a major space city, is forced to face her past and find out if her sister is alive after all.

This is how Caravan SandWitch begins, and it's an excellent setup, no doubt about it. Sauge's gradual re-establishment in her small community is seamless and told with relative grace, though the game screams for voice acting. Cigalo has a Provençal flavour that makes both the village she's from and the world she must explore on foot and by car (more on that later) utterly well constructed, filled to the brim with unique iconography and bubbling identity. It's a classic post-apocalypse, but with a rather crucial hopeful twist. Yes, all the money is gone, but what's left are the locals, and they have a positive outlook on life.

The game's narrative is the first "almost", because even though it all remains hopeful and interesting, it lacks more crucial set pieces, landmark events that push Sauge's understanding of the world around her and herself. Plane Toast tries several times, but the game is a little too rigid in its structure for anything more substantial to happen. Instead, everything ends up being subtle, which makes the game particularly suited to relaxation, to a different plot structure, and it works, but it's a shame that the game never really gets into gear and establishes meaningful stakes for Sauge and her friends and family.

The structure is another "almost". Caravan SandWitch features an open world filled to the brim with derelict ruins, old production facilities and sandy factories. It's up to you to collect computer parts and components used to upgrade your car, while gradually expanding your character gallery and unravelling key mysteries. It all sounds very good, and exploring the world to collect components is tactile, practical and down-to-earth enough to make it feel downright brilliant. Setting out into the charming nothingness of Cigalo to spot a disused factory on the horizon and then eventually leaving with a lot more resources feels great, and it's no loss that there are no enemies or combat system. The problem is that Metroidvania structure, because once you reach that factory, 90% of the time you'll encounter a series of obstacles that require you to come back later, but the game's reward loop or map isn't strong enough to create memorable landmarks that make you want to return once you've gained more abilities. The idea is a good one, Metroidvania can at its best give unstructured gaming experiences just that, structure. But when the main thing you're looking for is components, and not mechanics that let you map and easily remember where a new ability will soon open up, it falls apart. To return to the starting point; it almost works.

In terms of sheer physics and platforming, however, Caravan SandWitch is on point, and it feels fundamentally fantastic to control Sauge in third-person, to jump and climb and interact with this hugely physical and tactile open world. Likewise, controlling her car is functional and nifty, and even with mechanics like a grappling hook, it never gets crooked or bumpy. There's a bit of customisation missing from the car, perhaps ala Pacific Drive, which creates more of a bond between Sauge and this mode of transport, but the systems that exist under the bonnet, the basics, it all works as intended.

And likewise, it's hard to find fault with the look. Caravan SandWitch is decidedly beautiful to look at most of the time, with a beautiful celshaded tone that gives each vista, each character well... character. It's beautiful to look at, it really is, but the game also runs into the problem that comes with a desert-inspired post-apocalypse - there's a lot of sand and dust going on, and although Plane Toast puts up a good fight and has divided the world into relatively recognisable landmarks, it all becomes a bit too similar. Beautiful but anonymous. Almost there. And again.

Again, it sounds like Caravan SandWitch fails in a number of key areas, but that's really the half-truth. This is a damn fine effort from a relatively untested studio, and while the studio chronically comes close to realising many of their ambitions here, it's easy to love, and also pretty easy to recommend. They've paved the way for something much better in the future, that's for sure.