It all clicked when I got really stuck. I wasn't sure about John Wick
Hex at first. I was put off by the lankiness of the art style, where
shoulders are quarterback broad and the arms and legs seem to travel for
miles. I was put off by the end-of-level replays that squish your
brainteaser battles down to a few staccato seconds, with little in the
way of cinematic zip. There's John Wick, right in the middle of the
screen, blandly double-tapping away as an endless collection of what
look like fancy waiters and up-market estate agents pile in on him. Business as usual, but the whole thing didn't truly feel very Wickian.
Why
not? Hex borrows from games like Superhot and All Walls Must Fall: time
only moves when you do. This means that the game is perfect for
creating that kind of interior monologue of brutality as you work
through the order of your actions, time and space converging. Firstly,
I'll shoot that guy coming through the door. Then I'll tackle that guy
lurking behind the bar. If I roll over to the far corner, I can probably
tackle that one before she even sees me. Then I can take stock and
reload.
All well and good, but that's Jack Reacher rather than
John Wick, I would argue. Reacher's the planner, the strategist,
brainying his way through encounters that add up to spatial, temporal
puzzles, chess with a bit of kneecapping chucked in. Wick always feels
much more flowing and wordless than that. We are never allowed inside
the Wick headspace. The director calls the films
reverse-first-person-shooters. They're about skating from one encounter
to the next, about dancing between shivvings with your mind gloriously
empty. John Wick films are basically deadly musicals, aren't they?
Choreography and footwork, with a brassy tune from The Man of La Mancha
slapped over the trailer. Hex, the calculating strategy puzzler,
initially seemed a bit too thoughtful.
But then I got stuck. I sailed through the first level, and got
thoroughly bogged down in the second. And that's when I realised that,
whether or not it tied into my notion of what a John Wick game could be,
Hex is pretty special in its own right.
It's all about economy.
That's pretty Wickian, right? You start each top-down level with a gun
and a couple of bandages. You also start with full health and decent
focus, a meter that allows you to do stuff like instant takedowns and
combat rolls. The thing is, when the game starts to throw baddies around
you, as you hex your way through compact environments, pushing back the
fog of war with each step, you need to manage all that stuff.
You can shoot people, sure, but you probably want to hold onto your
bullets when you can. So just get in close and tackle them, then? Yes,
nice plan, but that eats through your focus and there's also the chance
that, if the enemy you're up against is armed, they might shoot you
before you close the gap. Bandages run out pretty quickly, and they also
take time to apply. It takes time to do a little labrador shake that
regains focus. It takes time to switch stances so you can combat roll.
It takes time to reload your gun or pick up someone else's once you're
out of ammo. Everything is sharpened by opportunity cost.
Man,
this is where the game truly lurks. And the more you play, the more you
realise you're actually playing the timeline that runs along the top of
the screen. The timeline shows you the cost in seconds of everything
you're planning to do. As time only moves when you do, you can mess
around planning things while you're standing still and the world stands
still around you. And this quickly becomes a lot of fun, because the
timeline also shows you the timescale of everything your enemies are
doing. So you can shoot a guy, right, but the timeline shows that he's
going to shoot you first. So maybe throw your gun? That will stun him
and do some damage and it's quicker than getting off a shot, but then
you won't have a gun. Can you then get to him while he's stunned? Do you
have enough focus to finish him off with a combat tackle?
It
took a while for this to click. At first, all I saw were the
percentages that pop up when you pick an action: 90 per cent chance to
hit with a shot, 100 per cent chance to stun with a thrown gun. I saw
the different weapons, with their different per centage chances, the
different hand-to-hand moves with the different amounts of damage they
all do. But really, more than it's about the odds, it's all about the
time.
Actually, it's about time twice. There's the moment you're
in, but then there's also the moment that follows. Each level is broken
down into a series of stages, and your vitals carry over between these
stages. So you can ace the first stage with no damage, but maybe you've
wasted most of your bullets. Or maybe you just squeaked past a mid-level
boss but used up all your bandages. You can replay each stage, which is
where the real fun lies, but you'll always start with the same hand
you've dealt yourself through your previous actions. And you can make
the most of the pre-level planning sequence, spending money on perks or
on equipment that you can stash in various stages up ahead - but once
the stuff is stashed you still have to find it, and that money doesn't
go very far anyway.
All of this keeps the game racing along far
more efficiently than any quirk or wrinkle it can add to the design as
things evolve. New weapons and new enemies are fine, but it's that
timeline system that really makes things sing. Bosses are a bit of a
drag and the plot is fairly skippable, but those second-to-second
decisions retain their appeal, no matter how stuck I am, and no matter
how many times I've plodded through the same level, walked the same
alleyways or dockyards, the layout remaining the same while the enemy
spawn points constantly shift.
There is a great game lurking in
John Wick. This series is so infused with the spirit of games, its
world-building is so gamey, how could there not be? I'm still not sure
that John Wick Hex is actually that precise game, but who cares when
it's pretty great in its own right?
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