5 minute read
Kalimba
Publisher MIcrosofT sTudIos / DeveloPer PrEss PlAY / FormaT XBoX onE / release DaTe ouT noW
reviewer
KaTe gray live oXM Kate @hownottodraw
The KnowleDge whaT is iT? The rhythmiest non-rhythm game you’ll ever get your mitts on. whaT’s iT liKe? Juggling knives in one hand and babies in the other while going up the stairs. who’s iT For? Time-wasters, completionists, anyone who enjoys fun and You. Yes, you.
The odds are stacked… and so are you
This time could have been spent playing Destiny. I could have been glitching my way through historically confusing assassinations in Unity. Hell, I should have been taking care of my tangled web of flirt interactions in Dragon Age: Inquisition. Instead, I sat cross-legged in my bedroom at 11pm, eyes lit up with the pallid glow of the TV screen, promising myself that this was definitely the last time I’d attempt this level, it can’t be that diffic- oh come on, I definitely jumped then.
Kalimba is the best game out this year that you almost definitely haven’t heard of. We can barely understand how it crept so slowly onto the scene without causing some kind of storm along the way. Between its temptingly tough platforming, its enchanting musicality and some utterly wacky design choices, there’s a brilliant, deceptively expansive game waiting to be discovered. What a treat it is.
The premise is basic: in order to fix a shattered totem you simultaneously control two carved wooden pieces in two different colours that you must navigate through a platforming level that requires you to stack, switch and save each other constantly. The colours are the clue to the game’s twist: pieces can only travel through lumps of triangle-lava in their own colour. These pop up in various guises to keep you on your toes – whether that involves stacking the little guys on top of each other or double-jumping, dodging and fluking your way through.
It’s not all a straightforward sidescroller though – it’s one of those platformers that constantly surprises you with creative and challenging mechanics, to the point where we found ourselves giggling at the discovery of a completely upside-down level. Your little totem pieces make the sweetest faces while it’s all happening, too – looking down with terror as they swan-dive into homicidal black liquid or grinning smugly as they float over the heads of rattling ghosts that try to kill them. Everything is trying to kill them.
Then there’s the music, which plonks happily away in the background, but has somehow been cleverly tied into all the other sound effects – every time you collect one of the level’s 70 little triangles, it makes a plinking noise that autotunes to the music. It feels like you’ve collected those bits at exactly the right time, and gives the whole game this rhythm-y feel – despite the fact it’s not a rhythm game at all.
A perfect playthrough will earn you a golden totem pole. Anything less will earn you what looks like a golden totem pole, until the game punches out every individual death and you’re left with something a little more frugal. The
Hoebear the Metabear
“I’m Hoebear the Metabear, a vaguely bear-shaped geometric character in a videogame,” says the vaguely bear-shaped character. That’s the start of Kalimba – and he’s your host. He appears to say meta(bear) things about the levels and to introduce frantic, hidden bonus levels with a time limit.
more deaths incurred, the worse your totem pole will look – and we don’t have to tell you that our pole, made almost entirely of uncarved logs, was testament to our thousands of deaths.
no shaman it
Kalimba is a bit like babysitting, then – but one of the babies is a pyromaniac, the other is a drunk and also they’re both magnetically repellent. Also, the stairs have turned into lava and there’s a violent skullbeast chasing you. It’s tense and, in places, seems impossible (anti-grav is table-flipping stuff) – but then when the night’s over, you get given a big gold totem as payment.
It’s easily several days’ worth of play, because even if you tell yourself you’re perfectly content with just completing the game, you won’t be. You’ll get sucked in by the shame of seeing an ungilded totem pole or by the leaderboards popping up after each level (steve beat me? This cannot stand). And then there’s co-op and a mode that forces you to steer four pieces at once – a bit like rubbing your tummy and patting your head… while cooking an eight-course meal.
But let’s get back to that magical co-op. never in my life have I been so simultaneously filled with fury and glee as I was at the collaborative attempts between myself and editor Matthew to best the co-op campaign. It’s hard enough co-ordinating the two pieces you control, but having to co-ordinate another person at the same time is as fun as running a three-legged race backwards. Which is to say that it’s incredibly fun. You might not be pals at the end, and one of you might be dead, but if laughter is the best medicine then you might be immortal by now.
If none of that convinces you, then a) you will never know love, b) you don’t know what fun is, and c) wait for this next knowledge bomb. This beautiful, wonderfully designed, thoughtful and thought-provoking game is only £8 on the Xbox store. That’s the price of an entire outfit from Primark – and unlike that outfit, this won’t fall apart halfway through a very important meeting leaving you in the buff in front of the sexy coffee guy who then laughs at your funny mole. no promises, but that probably won’t happen.
In a year that’s been defined by games that promise the world and deliver a papier maché planet a fiveyear-old made at school, it’s refreshing and comforting to see a game that promised very little, but provided us with hours of perfectly polished, beautifully choreographed wonder. oXm
Shut up, HOeBeAr. i bet you don’t even HAve friends.
The OXM verdict
THe wOrST BiT
‘Accidentally’ punching Matthew when he died for the tenth time in the pit of triangle-lava. THe BeST BiT
Finally nailing that tricky upside-down anti-gravity chute with precision timing. DiD yOu knOw?
?There’s an
