Sword of the Sea

Ever since Journey took Ico's pioneering work and distilled it into a pure form of emotion, fluid movement, and gorgeous images, I have happily thrown myself into anything that smelled of thatgamecompany's classic. Many others have too and the developer that has perhaps taken the formula most literally is California-based Giant Squid. This is not surprising, considering that the creative force behind it is Matt Nava, who was previously art director at thatgamecompany. The debut Abzû was incredibly beautiful, but also owed a little too much to Journey, while the sequel Pathless took more chances with both good and bad results.

The developer's third game, Sword of the Sea, is in many ways an amalgamation of the games that Nava has built his name on. It has the deserts of Journey, the marine life of Abzû, and The Pathless' focus on speed and momentum. And if Abzû was too mechanically light-footed, while The Pathless was too cumbersome, Sword of the Sea strikes a good balance between sensory experience and interactivity. It is Giant Squid's best game yet, even if it feels a tad too familiar.

But let's take a step back. As is often the case in this type of game, you are thrown directly into the events without any background or motivation. Who you are is unclear, but your mission is so universal that you quickly understand your role as a cleansing force of nature above all else. You are not a fully formed character, weighed down by doubts and worries. You have been brought to life to purify the land, which, fortunately, is done with your mythical sword. On, you ask? Yes, on! Because in Sword of the Sea, the sword is not swung, but skated. And thank goodness for that because even though I basically think the idea of a magical hoverboard sword is a little bit corny, it's also pretty cool in practice when you're speeding through deserts, tundra, and other gorgeous surroundings, where Giant Squid captivated me time-and-time again. It brings back memories of 2021's excellent Solar Ash. Here, it's just the skateboard or snowboard instead of roller skates that are put to adventurous use.

In practical terms, Sword of the Sea is a platform game with exploration at its core. You move through deserts, underground temples, and lava-filled caves, searching for places where you can use your sword to activate objects that bring life back or open gates so you can get closer to the enormous tower that, in the best Journey style, flickers in the haze from the first moment. Unlike The Pathless, there is (with one magnificent exception) no combat. You glide and jump around to reach the right places, spicing it all up with tricks that earn you points but are actually completely optional. The areas are often large and open, and there are no destination markers, but Giant Squid guides you elegantly with visual markers such as landmarks and (not quite as elegantly) with fluttering flags.

A few times, the minimal guidance resulted in me not being able to find my destination, which was actually a blessing. A large part of the fun of Sword of the Sea is losing yourself in the incredibly beautiful world and finding secluded nooks with small temples and trick or platforming challenges. Both because it gives you more of the currency used to upgrade your ability to perform more tricks, but also because it's just a wonderful digital space to be in. The rolling dunes you speed across invite you to play for the sake of playing. I often found myself performing tricks on my route for no other reason than that it felt good and natural.

But make no mistake. There is plenty of momentum in the determined journey towards the tower, and also an actual story, which is better told through the gameplay than the small text-based bits of lore that throw around place names and proper names without really sticking. Especially since you can't re-read them in a menu.

As I have mentioned several times, the visuals are Sword of the Seas' greatest strength. Where Abzû and The Pathless cultivated a more stringent visual theme, Nava and his team work with contrasts such as desert and sea, which is hugely appealing. When you create oases of marine life in the scorching desert, it looks so refreshing that I wished I could jump into the screen and splash around in the water.

In addition, there is something grandiose about the vast areas filled with details and fixed points, which add an epic touch that is far more effective in building the world than the aforementioned text passages. The only complaint is the frame rate, which has major challenges in a single chapter. This is a shame, as it's one of the game's most beautiful and adventurous areas, and a little odd, as the game otherwise runs flawlessly.

It took me just under 3.5 hours to reach the end, and honestly, it was absolutely perfect. Sword of the Sea is captivating and well-designed, but it doesn't have many strings to play on, so the compact length works in the game's favour, especially because it never feels like Giant Squid is artificially trying to prolong the game.

Sword of the Sea is an easy recommendation for anyone who enjoyed Journey, Rime, Abzû, and other related titles. Carried by its visuals, which are beautifully accompanied by Austin Wintory's background music, it offers plenty of gameplay enjoyment and hits all the right emotional high points. However, this easy recommendation also comes with an inherent criticism, because it's also a little too predictable and familiar. We are now familiar with the tried and tested journey towards the monolith story and the crises and setbacks it brings before the ultimate triumph. Giant Squid also has new ideas - particularly the way you move through the world - but at times it feels as if they are remixing elements from other titles a little too much. On the other hand, they do so with great flair and unmistakable talent, which ultimately makes Sword of the Sea one of the best games in the subgenre.