It is hard to find good games on the Wii. I don’t mean this in the sense that there aren’t any, there are plenty enough that have been made for the console; but rather that the games stores of England simply...don’t stock them. Don’t advertise them. Maybe they simply don’t understand that the Wii is more than a family and party console. Who knows? Maybe there’s an article in it.
This however is not an article, it’s a review, and when one plays Muramasa one gets the sense that this is a game that could greatly benefit from one...namely because the only people who are going to play this game are the kind of people who actually read reviews.
And that’s fine in this case, because Muramasa is not something for your stereotypical Wii owner. It’s entire design screams ‘niche’, from the side-scrolling action to the fact that they didn’t even dub the dialogue into English (which I’m kind of thankful for, as the voice acting is solid). The atmosphere of the game grindstones you with its foreignness to an overwhelming degree; the enemies come from Japanese folklore, the gods from Shinto and Hindu, the map you traverse is nicely painted in the style of old Edo-period illustrations, the music is airy and alive with traditional wind and string instruments, the weapon-names are unpronounceable. Even the morality of the narrative is distinctly Bushido, from character speeches to plot-points.
Nothing about the design of Muramasa suggests that it would be something that marketers could sell or the masses would enjoy. And it feels...deliberate. One suspects that Vanillaware did not want a vanilla audience for this game; they wanted an audience that would appreciate what they had made: people who knew a good game when they saw one. They didn’t fall between the cracks by accident, they wanted a niche they could call their own. A niche that they managed to secure the same way they got into it; simple quality.
It’s the combat which most obviously showcases this thread that runs throughout the game; it’s easy to understand, superb in how it flows, and offers a subversive level of depth. You, as either Kisuke or Momohime, switch between three swords, each with their own ‘spirit bar’ which recharges when sheathed and when you collect souls (of dead enemies and just around the place), and which whittles down whenever you use a special ability or parry an attack. Aside from the special, all attacks are done via different analogue stick and A button combos, or, for blocking, just holding the A button down on its own. As I said: simple, but once you get used chaining aerial combos into specials into drawing out another sword (which if you wait a while between switching becomes an AoE attack all of its own), you can sense the mastery and skill required for playing at the high end...and you will want to get there. It’s a game that makes a perfectionist out of you, and you will wince at the end of every fight if you don’t get that ‘completely unscathed’ points bonus, believe you me.
It’s exactly this level of detail in a system so simple that impresses throughout Muramasa. The movement only happens along a 2D plane, but because of that they’ve given themselves ample time to make the lands you run and jump through beautiful. You can only use three swords at a time, but you can forge more from all the souls you collect. You want to heal yourself, then you acquire ingredients that you can cook along the way and bestow different bonuses on your character for a while, like regen or greater attack power. There are single items, too, that you can equip along with your sword that change your two stats or have a status effect on you. These small additions are perfectly complementary to the action and satisfying in their own respects, ensuring that the combative focus of the game isn’t lost but still allowing a pleasurable amount of tinkering for those who enjoy such things.
The stories too speak of this bountiful level of intricacy, if not through the narrative itself then by the fact that each of the two characters has their own completely separate tale, only meeting each other a handful of times (and in a very unlikely place). Rising Star could have very easily just have made one story and given you a character-switch option, but no, they went that extra mile for no good reason; like the little animations that happen whenever you cook something and the way that each character executes the exact same move in a completely different style.
It has to be said, though, that this minimalist style does cause some problems regarding repition though; not every locale has its own unique graphical twists, and though every combat is a joy, it is a joy that always involves the same mechanics. This is alleviated somewhat by being able to duck out of combats that aren’t worth your time, particularly later on, but if you want to kick high-level ass, you’re going to have to kick the small-fries out first, and often. Luckily, the combat is good enough to never devolve this pursuit into a chore, particularly as all you’ve gotta do is lower your guard only slightly to get your teeth knocked in against some of the tougher street-thugs and samurai.
It’s hard to stress how much there is to see and appreciate in this game, and to be honest I don’t want to; its ability to surprise you with extras is probably my favourite thing about Muramasa. It lasts you longer than you think, and gets harder than you could guess (Which is good, because the ‘normal’ difficulty setting gets far too easy after you get used to the controls). ‘Generous’ is the word that springs to mind, and it’s the word that makes this otherwise good game unexpectedly great. Ignore it at your expense, Wii owner.
Summary: Vanillaware have gone through the effort to make a game that punches above its weight, and if you think you’re the kind of guy that can tell a good game from a bad one, then here’s your litmus test.
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