A Review of Prince of Persia (2008)
What injury have I done to you, Ubisoft?
Ha, ha, let’s all laugh because the developers named a donkey after Farah. Some of you might find this joke offensive, but to me it’s genuinely hilarious. It’s precisely this kind of playful self-awareness which allows the reboot to re-examine the franchise in a new light. The scene where the Prince first bumps into Elika might have been snatched from a high school drama, but that’s where the tropes end. Elika is no damsel in distress and while you’re still playing as the Prince, you’re very much the sidekick in this adventure. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
2008’s Prince of Persia is the self-titled reboot of the series. Much like Sands of Time, it introduces a new set of characters and a new world for them to explore. Also much like SoT, it re-envisions the franchise’s gameplay mechanics. It’s a bold and innovative experience, further propelled by its fresh ideas and beautiful presentation. It’s a game for whose sequel I’d swallow my disdain, get down on my knees before Ubisoft’s worst vile and beg. It’s also a game that’s not perfect by any account.
There is a very clear vision towards which the reboot was striving for. After Warrior Within came out, the series made itself a reputation for catering only to h a r d c o r e gamers. Instead of pushing the franchise in that direction, the developers decided to switch course. The reboot is a game you’re meant to play laid back on your couch, without a single worry in the world.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this in itself. There’s no rule which says games need to be challenging. There’s no evidence which implies that more challenging games are better than less challenging ones. And the developers certainly didn’t make any lifetime commitment to keep churning out WW clones.
What ultimately degrades this game’s quality is not the fact that it’s as easy as dipping your toes in the sand and taking a sip of a piña colada. No, as with most games it’s tied to the design decisions and how they were implemented. In this case, it’s how the existing mechanics were modified to achieve a more lenient experience.
I can already feel most of you jumping out of your seats and raising your hand. No, I’m not talking about how Elika saves you from death. Sorry to disappoint. I’m actually quite in favor of this mechanic. The Prince of Persia series has always been based around trial and error. These games don’t expect you to nail everything on the first go and they’re designed with that in mind.
In the SoT trilogy, you were given the ability to rewind time. When you made a mistake, you could rewind back to a moment before that mistake was initiated. This commodity was limited, so once you run out of sands, your next mistake would be fatal. The developers were fully aware of how the previous games worked, so they decided to mask the rewind mechanic as something else that makes sense within the new universe. That is to say, with Elika.
Make no mistake, being rescued by Elika is no different than rewinding time. Both mechanics avoid the game over screen and give you an instant chance to try again. The only difference is that the rewind mechanic has a limit to its graciousness, while Elika does not. You might object that it’s precisely this difference which makes the reboot such a crime, but I’d have to disagree. Forcing you to see a game over screen, making you reload and repeat the parts you’ve previously beaten is not what constitutes as challenge. Challenge is when obstacles are hard to overcome. The reboot just lets players make another attempt a little bit quicker than its predecessors. Now as for the challenges themselves…
Props to my girl Elika for hurling this man around the entire game.
Let’s start dissecting this game with the platforming. Playing the reboot right after beating the other PoP titles is weird. I do not recommend it, especially not if you’re coming out of Forgotten Sands. FoS’ platforming made me manage up to 5 different buttons at a time in order to complete sets of tight and gripping challenges. Compared to that, the reboot’s platforming feels like it’s missing something from the equation.
It’s not just that the control scheme is different, it’s that significantly less input is required from the player. The jump button became a placebo for everything. It’s used to perform most of the actions, with some occasional inputs from the dedicated gauntlet and Elika buttons. Of those two I largely prefer the latter, as being pulled up by Elika somewhat mimics that dipping feeling you get on a roller coaster.
Even those few button prompts are scarcely needed. It took me ages to accept that some of the game’s stunts are performed on auto-pilot. Running along the ceiling is such a ridiculously powerful move I can’t believe it doesn’t require more input from the player. Sometimes I would accidentally press the jump button when the Prince was about to pull himself up a wall, because that animation looks like it’s begging for another prompt. Alas, that just sends you flying in the opposite direction. Later I thought my mind was blown when I realized you don’t need to hold down the jump button while wall running. Little did I know that you don’t even need to keep tilting the stick.
I got into the flow of things eventually, but while I understand how these design decisions play into the couch potato mindset, I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the simplified control scheme. Elika is already here to save me from the shame of ever seeing a game over screen, so why not use her to add a little bit of oomph to the platforming? I didn’t feel relived because there were less buttons to press, I felt robbed. My fingers were yearning for more engagement, but the game just told me to relax and crack a beer.
Well, I might just do that, game! Though my beer would go down a lot easier if the platforming was as immaculate as the game thought it was. The mistake you’ll most often make is jumping towards a wall at the wrong angle. If your aiming is a bit off, the Prince will initiate a wall run bellow the necessary height, making him miss his target and fall down the cliff side.
The game’s also not the greatest when it comes to registering inputs. This is a lot more prominent in combat, but more on that later. It’s less of an eyesore during platforming, but can get on your nerves eventually. So for example, the game sometimes won’t respond to the jump button when you’re trying to hop from one pole to another. Also if you start sliding down a vine, the Prince will stop himself just before he reaches the end of the shrubbery. There’s an annoying pause before the game registers another input to drop down.
Our Persian boy began his career by hopping over pits, but look how far he's gotten.
Although I nag, these instances are cracks on a seemingly perfect cake. Saying a PoP game has great animations is as novel as claiming that water is wet, but I’d like to point it out none the less. Each time platforming rubbed me the wrong way, there were ten other occasions where the game made it up to me. Generally, movement is as smooth as butter and there are a dozen of little details sprinkled in for the keen-eyed. My personal favorite touch is how there are two variations for the mundane act of pulling yourself up a ledge. If you release all buttons before grabbing onto one, the Prince will just keep hanging. However if you keep tilting up the stick, the Prince will quickly scramble on top without loosing momentum.
There is one more aspect that further enriches the platforming and it’s completely unique to the reboot. It’s hard to notice at first, but the levels have a sort of curvature to them. Many of the traversal mechanics are designed with this in mind. To initiate a wall run you have to jump towards it at a 45 degree angle, so to make bouncing off and landing convenient ledges are hexagonally shaped. Brass rings are often placed at corners of buildings, letting the Prince smoothly switch from one side to the other. The green plates let you spiral along the insides and outsides of towers. Polls are stringed circularly, pillars are skewed and you can prolong your wall run by jumping towards a perpendicular wall. All of this gives the reboot a significant amount of depth which makes the platforming in the SoT trilogy feel almost 2-dimensional.
What makes the platforming even more satisfying in the long run is that it’s a vehicle for some unscrupulous eye candy. Yes, this game is drop-dead gorgeous. Serious game critics don’t get hung up on a game’s graphics, but I just started drinking midway through a review, so who the hell cares any more? The reboot is the best looking PoP game by far. Scratch that, it’s one of the most beautiful games I’ve ever played, period. The presentation is so distinct, it’s instantly recognizable even to people who’ve never been near a PoP game before. Not to mention that it still looks amazing more than 10 years after it originally came out.
It’s hard to put into words why this game feels so mesmerizing. The story is set in a desert which bears marks of the Middle East, but most of this world feels new and fresh and alien. You’ll encounter citadels garnished by windmills, balloon held plateaus, golden domes emerging from the clouds and a ruined city surrounded by water lilies. I personally love the bottom-less hallway which connects the Spire of Dreams to the Coronation Hall. There’s something magical about how the sun shines through the stained-glass windows to cast light on rows of desecrated pillars.
The game’s atmosphere wouldn’t be nearly as alluring if it weren’t for the soundtrack. And, oh, what a soundtrack it is! Stuart Chatwood, you dastardly man, how dare you do this to me again? Chatwood’s work on other PoP titles is nothing short of iconic, but he really outdid himself with the reboot. The title track alone will send shivers down your spine, not to mention the rest of the OST which is packed with memorable numbers from start to finish.
This place is due for renovation, but it still looks amazing.
While the mystical feeling emanating from the world closely resembles the one found in Sands of Time, the reboot’s non-linear level design actually hearkens back to Warrior Within. You can explore the world and tackle its challenges in any order you like, limited only by the traversal powers you’ve acquired so far. Even though each area of the map is a simple node with no more than 3 exits, the levels’ unique layout tricks you into thinking that the world is a lot more intricate than it actually is. The game lets you mark way-points and teleport between fertile grounds, but I found it a lot more satisfying to explore without the assistance of the map.
The world is split into 4 areas, each one with 6 fertile grounds. What makes the overall number even more impressive is the distinctiveness at display. While all fertile grounds within an area share the same theme, each one has some sort of trick up their sleeve, making the act of reaching the top that more exciting. The standouts would be the perplexity of the Machinery Grounds, the intense swirl inside the Royal Spire and that insane run along the arches of the Queen’s Tower.
What’s sad about this world, despite how dazzling it looks, is that it’s completely barren. Once you’ve reached a fertile ground and beaten its boss, there’s barely anything left to do. The emptiness of the world will feel eerily familiar to anyone who’s played the first Assassin’s Creed, and it’s no wonder considering these games came out at a similar time. These were still Ubisoft’s early attempts at open-world games and they hadn’t yet figured out how to populate their worlds with content. Though, to be honest, I don’t think they ever did.
They try to keep you busy by making you collect light seeds which are spread throughout the world. And I mean, making environments more interesting by gathering collectibles, like seriously? The light seeds unlock abilities which are necessary to complete the game, but you’ll need significantly less than the maximum amount to progress. The designers don’t want you and don’t need you to spend hours upon hours finding that last light seed in an area. Collecting them is supposed to be spontaneous and something you do along the way. However my OCD would like to have a word with you. If there’s a box to be ticked inside the game, you know full well some us are going to pursue it, be it optional or not. And don’t even get me started on tying achievements to this nonsense.
Stop to take in the view.
Despite the lack of content, the designers did a surprisingly good job of adapting the difficulty curve to match the non-linear level design. E.g. after beating the Alchemist, the poisonous clouds which you first encounter in the Vale start appearing in other areas as well. The same goes for that annoying swarm which follows you around in the Concubine’s levels.
While non-linearity might have paired itself nicely with the progression, it certainly took a toll on the story. The relationship between the Prince and Elika cannot evolve in response to the current circumstances if the game doesn’t know in what order you’ll tackle its challenges. Sections with the Concubine explore our protagonists’ motivations and those with the Warrior question the lack of Ormazd’s divine intervention, but none of those dilemmas actually affect the plot or the characters.
Despite that, these two are one of the most fleshed out and likeable duos I’ve encountered in any game. You know exactly how things are going to play out the first time you see them interact. Elika is trying to manage the greatest crisis of her life while the Prince is wondering if there’s gold to be looted in the temple. It’s a textbook trope - she is responsible and compassionate while he is an unscrupulous opportunist, but it works perfectly.
What emphasizes their relationship even more is the insane amount of conversations they have throughout the game. They speak a fair bit during cut-scenes, but the bulk of their interactions come from optional dialogue. You can press a designated button and the Prince and Elika will discuss pressing matters or whatever crosses their minds. The dialogue options are refreshed each time you visit a new fertile ground. Other than dripping bits and pieces of exposition, these conversations go a long way to establish our protagonists’ relationship. Their chemistry evolves slowly over time and, by the end of the game, you really get the impressions that they grew close during this whole ordeal.
Besides the dialogue, their dynamic is further enhanced by the animations. Elika is the best video game sidekicks you could hope for. She’ll run along after the Prince and each time she catches up to him, they’ll interact in some small way. The Prince will extend his hand to her on ledges, he’ll sometimes catch her after a drop and, possibly the cutest thing ever, they’ll do a little twirl each time they switch places on a beam. They occasionally exchange sly remarks, like when the Prince is carrying Elika over a stretch vines or when she saves him from a fatal fall. It makes Elika feel like a living breathing being who’s there with you in every moment and not some poorly scripted drone.
Do the twirl!
And now we’ve come to the part of the game I’d like to avoid the most. God, the combat! The fights in the reboot are strictly one-on-one affairs. You’ll engage only one enemy at a time in dedicated arenas, turning each encounter into a boss battle. The game wants you to perceive the fights as duels, a dynamic exchange of blows, with the way it encourages you to parry and how the Prince postures himself sword up and gauntlet ready to strike. Sounds good in theory, right?
Well, the problems start off with the way the Prince moves. He is terribly slow and dodging doesn’t make him much faster. Things would be delightful if this were the only aspect of the Prince’s life which needed fast-forwarding. Alas, the time it takes the Prince to register an input and act upon it makes a sloth seem like a speed runner. It can take almost up to 2 seconds for him to lower his guard and perform the requested action. In that time, enemies are able to change their stance, walk up to you and smack you in the face. Before you ask, I don’t think any of this is tied to performance issues. To my perception the game was running just fine, yet most of the Prince’s combat animations had this annoying wind-up which might suggest he got caught having a nap.
Usually, you’ve got an enemy by the jewels once you’ve initiated a combo, but getting there is an uphill battle. Your reflexes might be sharp as a knife, but they won’t mean much since the Prince can’t keep up. Enemies will often land a hit before you’ve had the chance to sneeze, rendering your plans useless. To make matters even worse, they constantly parry your attacks and turn the tide against you, making the few times you do manage to go on the offensive ineffective.
The combat becomes bearable once you’ve realized that attacking is a viable option only when enemies take pity and give you enough downtime to act. For the most part, you’ll be missing opportunities and holding off against a barrage of the enemy’s own attacks. Parrying should solve these problems on paper, but it’s not very reliable when the Prince tries to use it. Enemies are lightning fast and barely telegraph their moves. I landed most parries when I was reacting in anticipation of an attack and not in response to one. You can end a lot of the encounters early by pushing enemies off cliffs, which is a bliss, especially for generic mini bosses which are even more aggressive than their big counterparts.
Oh, wait, did I mention the quick time events? Please repeat after me, kids. Quick time events are baaad. This game utilizes not just the regular type, where you have to press a button fast enough, but also the accursed kind which asks you to smash a button repeatedly. I had to readjust my hands on the gamepad each time one of these came up because my thumb couldn't keep up with the required pace. I love that you have to block immediately after a quick time event ends because enemies don’t waste any time kicking you in the face.
I hate this guy so much.
Thankfully, the combo system is an interesting experiment. It boils down to four buttons, and when you open up the combo list, you’ll see that they amount to a fair number of combinations. However I don’t think you’re meant to memorize them. Instead, the combo system leans heavily on improvisation.
Once you’ve initiated a certain attack, you’ll often be able to guess which action can be performed next. Is Elika suddenly in view? Launch her at the enemy. Is the enemy standing still in one place? Hoist them up with the gauntlet. Is the Prince standing by with his sword? Smack the bastard before they get a chance to blink. It’s much more fun than memorizing a combo list and makes you feel like the originator of your own cocktail.
You’ll fight each of the 4 bosses ones per fertile ground and the game does a decent job of not letting it get repetitive. No matter in what order you tackle the areas, after beating a boss the next time you see them they’ll upgrade their repertoire. These changes will be reflected not just on the main bosses, but also on the generic enemies you fight along the way. So the Hunter will spit on you (ew!), permanently unlocking this option for all other foes. Similarly, enemies will start utilizing different power stances which you’ll have to counter with specific attacks.
The boss which is the most varied is the Warrior, but he is sadly the most rotten apple from the bunch. Each time you fight him, you’re supposed to drive him to a specific spot in the arena, but getting him where you want and baiting a suitable attack is slow and painful. At least the other 3 bosses provide a decent amount of back and forth with minor differences.
I guess it’s worth mentioning that the tutorials are horrendous. They smother you with instructions right out of the gate, trying to make you memorize each combo, like that even matters. The game insistently keeps pausing to tell you what to do and even repeats the tips it already gave you. I turned the tutorials off pretty early on and had much more fun figuring things out on my own. There aren’t that many buttons when you think about it and, due to Elika, making fatal mistakes is cheap.
Well, hello there.
You know what? After a few drinks this game starts to make perfect sense. I trudged back and forth so many times collecting light seeds that the world became like my backyard. See that plateau over there? That’s where I discovered some hidden light seeds by sliding down an edge, grabbing onto a brass ring, waltzing along the ceiling and then dropping down to a beam. And that fertile ground with a killer view? That’s where the Prince and Elika played I spy with my little eye.
Oh, and that’s where I fought the Alchemist that one time. The Alchemist, what a lad! We’d start each fight with a little bit of foreplay. He’d belittle my attempts to stop Ahriman and hint at his machinations, but would always get pushed down a cliff less than a third into his health bar.
And why did I ever complain about video game characters whose armor had cleavage? Damn, girls, does the Prince look fine or what? I guess the developers were on to something when they invented the metal thong. Please, don’t let my lack of sophistication hold you back any more.
Ah, and that ending! It’s as bittersweet as this game’s fate. There's something poignant about how the game makes you undo everything you've worked for without a single word. It doesn't shower you with lengthy cut-scenes or sad violins. Instead, it trusts that you'll understand the full gravity of its message. The silence to Elika's final "Why?" speaks much more than any piece of dialogue ever could.
Despite its many flaws, the reboot is a triumph on multiple fronts. It’s one of the purest visions in gaming, a unique experience which offers so much and teases even more. Yet Ubisoft cut it down in its roots, completely oblivious to the fact that they were on to something new. It hurts when creative minds are hampered by financial reports and even more when you consider that the developers had a whole trilogy in mind. The promised sequel will probably never see the light of day and Ubisoft doesn’t even care enough to make the Epilogue available on modern platforms.
Play the soundtrack and let me wallow in my heartache.
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