BROTHERS: A TALE OF TWO SONS
If I had to sum up Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons in a word, it would be ‘Disarming’.
The mature and dark concepts explored in this otherwise cartoony and fairy-tale world are disarming. The ease with which you’ll find yourself controlling the two brothers is disarming. Perhaps most disarming is how a game with as clunky a title as Brothers: A Tale of Two sons could end up being one of the most unique and evocative games of this year.
The game’s premise is necessarily simple: two brothers – their father bedridden by an unknown affliction – must set out on an epic journey to find a cure in the form of a Drogasil tree.
Epic is the operative word here. The Unreal engine is put to fantastic use realising the immense proportions of the world. Scale is toyed with constantly: the camera gazes downward from dizzying heights to watch our heroes edge their way around a sheer cliff face, only to pull in tightly moments later, as big brother delicately sniffs a rare flower. At intervals throughout the game a stone bench will offer the brothers a moment to relax and soak in the majesty of their surroundings, in a mechanic reminiscent of Ico.
In no way are the milestones of the adventure pedestrian either. Although there are yawning caves, grassy hillsides and ice capped mountains they are interspersed with unique locales such as a giant’s home or a Ravenholm-esque trek through a nightmarish forest. To reveal too much of the brothers’ journey is to detract from the wonderment and sense of adventure that the game so frequently instils.
Controlled like a twinsticked shooter, the player guides the two playable characters (one per analog) through a series of puzzles and dextrous trials along the way. With only one context sensitive button per brother the player must climb, throw, grab, shout, hide and jump their way from one situation to the next.
The game is strictly single player and well suited to it. A Kuri-Kuri Mix style co-op option would only offer an anaemic experience for both players, however operating both characters elevates the single player experience to more than the sum of its parts.
A tale of two sons very rarely recycles mechanics either – ideas and concepts will be utilised one minute, only to be discarded or rebuilt seconds later. A highlight for me was a sequence during which the brothers are tethered together with rope and must swing from foothold to outcrop along a derelict bridge. The trade-off for this variety is the brevity of the experience. Taking the opportunity to explore the linear world will only afford you an extra few minutes or so of game time, totally approximately 4 hours of gameplay overall.
Completionists will discover that the selection of story-based achievements can be mopped up in one play-through, leaving little replay value for some.
And yet long after I’ve finished playing it’s the story and the world that lingers in my mind most. There are the periphery characters who come and go in the blink of an eye: the girl whose football I stole, the old man by the river who laughed at my harp playing skills. The game unfolds like a silent movie with all exposition conveyed in a gibberish language and hand gestures. Much is inferred but not explained. The troll’s home contains a double bed with a heart carved into the frame – but where is his wife? Why is that man down by the cliff trying to kill himself – and why should we stop him?