Beyond simply remembering and recreating history, some games make you
pine for a past that never was. Crossing Souls is just such a renegade
historian, taking you back to a childhood you only glimpsed in old
Steven Spielberg movies. In truth, how many people wearing hazmat suits
have you actually seen in real life? And do you know a single person
who's managed to evade the local law enforcement on a BMX? Reality
simply isn't made up of those scintillating set-pieces. Not in the 80s,
and certainly never since. And yet the nostalgia's there just the same.
More
than that, though, it takes you back to that impossible time and place
with a style of play that reminds you of countless treasured 16-bit
titles, but in reality plays like none of them. It's far more refined
than any single title of the era it apes visually. Just like a great
racing game handles the way you want a car to handle rather than the way
it actually might, Crossing Souls is a journey to a past you wish
existed.
Set in California during the summer of 1986, it begins
when a gang of five instantly likeable kids find a mysterious stone
clasped within a dead man's hand, which lets them travel between the
realm of the living and that of the dead. Naturally that discovery
unfurls a tale of government conspiracy and supernatural warmongering,
played out like A Link to the Past dip-dyed in cyan and magenta.
This
sort of hyper-nostalgia has been doing the rounds lately. Perhaps you
saw it in San Junipero, the BAFTA-winning Black Mirror episode in 2017.
Maybe in Stranger Things, or in the Andy Muschietti remake of Stephen
King's It - all romanticising 80s America, and all remembering it with a
wisp of darkness. If you were particularly unlucky, you might have
witnessed Agents of Mayhem trying to get in on the act last year too,
throwing in the odd 80s kid cartoon cutscene and casting furtive glances
around for approval.
Whatever the reason for this surge in nostalgic cooings for a very
particular depiction of that bygone time (and I suspect it's as simple
as 80s kids now occupying entertainment media
exec positions) Crossing Souls arrives right at the peak of it. It's
even gone to the trouble of interjecting now and again with - yes -
vintage cartoon cutscenes, warped by a faux-VHS effect. Consequently,
its opening hour is one in which you're not quite sure whether it's a
retro adventure that's simply content to raise a smile by referencing
Poltergeist, Stand By Me, E.T. et al , or whether it also has ideas of
its own. It's a misleading opening, however, because boy, does Crossing
Souls have ideas.
Bags of them. So many nice little touches,
well-designed gameplay transitions and bespoke sequences that you can
feel the three developers of Fourattic urging you on to the next bit,
because there's that particularly cool thing that happens with the
Cursed Librarian in the haunted library just up ahead, or, that fight
with the ghost bus driver and his gang of spook kids out in the woods.
As
for how those ideas are expressed - the form and shape that Crossing
Souls actually takes as a game - it's impressively fluid. SNES-era Zelda
is the closest touchstone that I latched onto, not least due to the
frequency in which I was scything down shrubs to replenish hearts and
popping bombs next to fragile-looking areas of walls. Developer
Fourattic's enthusiasm for chucking in three minutes of a new genre in
the name of adventure, though, is what really defines it all. So it's a
Zelda game with a deep affection for platforming sequences, logic
puzzles, vehicular diversions. Oh, and character-swapping, too.
It's
an odd approach, the latter. Though ostensibly a tale of five
adolescent friends working together against a bunch of evil grown-ups,
Crossing Souls only hands you the reigns to one person at a time.
Initially it feels a bit lonely to wander the streets of Tajunga, CA
with a single character, especially after they've each endeared
themselves to you so artfully. Chris the quintessential leading guy from
80s cinema. Matt the nervous lad with rocket shoes. Charlie, an analog
of It's Beverly Marsh complete with deadbeat dad. Big Joe, always on
hand to give a bit of sass or shift something heavy. And Kevin, who -
well look, Kevin's just Stand By Me era Corey Feldman. And I'm fine with
that.
What's lost by having only one plucky kid in your charge at
a time is, however, gained back in the thoughtful ways you're led to
swap between them on the fly. In those moments, where Matt rocket-jumps
over some toxic sludge so that Chris can climb some vines up to a ruined
bridge that Charlie can slingshot over to reach a dusty old block
puzzle where Big Joe shoves the pieces into place, they feel like a gang
again. (Kevin, younger than the others, is on hand to blow bubblegum
bubbles and fart too.)
It adds something to what's otherwise
straightforward side-on brawler combat. You save Big Joe and his extra
hearts for those tougher fights against the neighbourhood gang, fronted
by a Prince wannabe. You know Charlie is quantifiably quicker and more
powerful than everyone else, so you bring her and her whip attack out
when the projectile-flinging ghouls show up. Would you be better off
with another character in this new situation? It's a question always
worth asking, and that does a great deal to stave off repetition.
On top of that layer of character-swapping, there's the titular
crossing between realms. The kids have found a powerful stone that
allows access to the mythical Duat, after all, the ancient Egyptian
realm of the dead. The less said about this the better, for narrative
purposes, but like everything else in Crossing Souls, once introduced
its used to its fullest potential.
It should be made explicit that
this isn't a subversive take on 80s adventure flicks. This is no Night
in the Woods or Oxenfree. It's absolutely earnest, straight-batted stuff
without a single knowing glance towards the camera, and that's actually
quite refreshing. At times the dialogue reads a bit unnaturally, but
it's the other end of the spectrum to the hella tryhard yoof speak of
early Life is Strange episodes, simply a bit stiff and functional.
Perhaps it's a low-key send up of the stiff and functional dialogue in
The Goonies and its contemporaries - it's genuinely hard to tell. It
never truly detracts from the experience.
It should also be made
explicit that this very much is one of those games pixel art nerds will
be posting GIFs of on Twitter for quite some time. Chris and Kevin's
bedroom, where the game begins, absolutely teems with detail, setting a
high bar for the following hours that's generally maintained. And as for
the animations - it's the sort of game that makes you appreciate a
five-frame idle loop of an old Chinese man playing table tennis more
than Nathan Drake scaling a sinking ship in a storm.
It has its
foibles, but the sense of adventure is constant, and irresistible.
That's what Crossing Souls sets out to achieve, really. Not a 16-bit
Stranger Things knock-off but an earnest, big-hearted adventure. It
embodies that intention throughout, making adventure its top priority at
every juncture. Where other games might linger on puzzles for longer,
this one says, 'quick, on to the next cool thing we have lined up!'
Where some games might decide not to skip around from Suburbia to
haunted forests to the Wild West for fear it might not make much sense,
Crossing Souls launches itself into unexpected changes in setting and
activity. And that makes it nearly impossible not to enjoy.
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