'God of War Ragnarök' Review
End of days
"It is the nature of a thing that matters, not its form." However, as Kratos himself learned almost five years ago through his dry, laconic fables, a good story needs both. Despite the return of classic God of War brutality, the tale told by Ragnarök is surprisingly comforting: you can and will be better. You'll make mistakes, but they aren't you; you are not irredeemable. Don't close your heart, but instead open it, for only then will you feel peace. It's sweet, and also develops Kratos into perhaps the single best protagonist under PlayStation's brand, but it's let down by a lack of momentum. It's difficult to remain engaged when the game's established pacing and construction so obviously telegraphs that whatever we're doing right now, it's not going to matter much within the next hour or two, when we start some other thread to which we feel only partially committed. Urgency isn't a requirement, but it often feels as though the plot is aimlessly tottering ahead with all the time in the world. That is, until the final hour, wherein Ragnarök hurtles towards its resolution with such unprecedented fervor that one starts to wonder if pages were skipped - those at war are now at peace; the estranged partly reconciled off-screen; blink and you'll miss the gauntlet lain upon the ground. We kneel to favor a realistic verve and character focus, and accurately meet that goal with masterclass dialogue, but it comes at the cost of tension, particularly when player engagement is so predictable throughout: walk until we stop you; coast for an hour-long mission which feels like a copy of the last (walk, fight, climb, walk, fight, climb) for a single minute of consequence; climb until there's nothing left but a sky full of closing credits. A game's narrative isn't just its cutscenes and dialogue; it isn't just what happens with the characters, it's what happens with the player, and I often felt as though my role in proceedings amounted to little more than unsticking the pause button.
Ragnarök is a categoric improvement over its immediate predecessor, but the vices and virtues of expansion are in perfect balance. More utility to your armaments means more exciting mid-moment decisions, but it also makes certain acquisitions feel overshadowed at first sight. More depth to the RPG elements means more thoughtfulness to your approach, but also more menus to sift through and options to brush aside for not improving the ‘right’ numbers. Emphasized verticality and open spaces mean more to explore, but also more to walk and climb, both of which having us trace the laid path with our finger, rather than strike it out ourselves - as well as providing an interminable onslaught of chests to open. It's the nature of the thing which matters most, of course, but Ragnarök's endearing spirit feels too frequently stifled by its own artificial excesses.