“It’s not the game of the film,” we’re told of The Forgotten Sands, though you can see where the confusion begins. The game is released on the same day as Bruckheimer’s blockbuster, and while our digital hero doesn’t share Jake Gyllenhaal’s likeness, he has at least been ruffling through his wardrobe.
But no matter. Timing and aesthetic dalliances aside, Forgotten Sands is very much its own thing: yet another reboot of our lithe Prince. We were here just two years ago, the last time Ubisoft decided to give our royal hero a makeover. And with yet another image change, you start to wonder if the developers are throwing the baby out with the bathwater in order to placate ... well, I’m not sure who, exactly.
At least this time there is a goal: to turn back the clock seven years and recapture the magic of Sands of Time, widely regarded as the series high watermark. So all traces of 2008’s Prince Of Persia reboot has vanished; the pretty cel-shading, the roguish Prince, the instant restarts by the hand of the gorgeous Princess Elika. All gone, replaced with last generation’s time-reversal mechanic and a smattering of new ideas.
Ultimately, though, we’re on familiar ground - or walls - here. The Forgotten Sands goes old-school, relegating its story (the Prince’s brother, Malik, unwittingly unleashes a demonic sand army into his palace, you have to send it back) to brief interstitial cutscenes. Its only logic is to push you on, throwing up new challenges and granting you new powers at key points.
Otherwise it’s the same wall-running and pole-swinging that made the Prince such a hit. Though you perhaps wouldn’t guess it from the game’s opening, dropping you into a depressingly brown, war-torn castle. It’s a typically bombastic opening; swathes of soldiers smash into each other below the rampart you’re standing on, and in the middle distance, a horde of guys in armour come charging your position, spoiling for a rumble.
Prince of Persia has never been renowned for its combat and The Forgotten Sands isn’t about to challenge the perception. Swordplay isn’t terrible as such, but it is rather uninspiring. The Prince attempts to swing with elegance, pirouetting in between enemies before smacking them upside the head. But he moves as if cutting through treacle; slow and slightly laboured. In your hands it’s gluey and unresponsive. It has its moments; booting a skeleton off a ledge is always good for a laugh and the Prince can cheerfully jump on the heads of these ghouls, hopping between each one before flipping into the air and ramming his sword down an exposed gullet.
So the combat is gloopy and a little bland, but not entirely unpleasant –a bit like rice pudding. But, and not looking to labour an analogy, we need a juicy dollop of jam to sweeten things up. The Prince’s greatest strength has always been his heady, exhilarating form of parkour. Scuttling across and up walls, swinging from handy poles, defying gravity and death as he scoots over spinning razor blades sweeping across walls (Persia’s essential home defence accessory). Hurling the Prince across great chasms is as easy and approachable as ever, and it becomes clear where the focus in the game’s engine lies. While this could have gone someway to explain the rather disparate fighting, with the two disciplines never quite feeling part of the same whole, The Forgotten Sands uses the same engine as Assassin’s Creed II, a game in which the climbing and combat always felt connected. Quite what has been lost in translation is unclear, but it remains a regular blemish on the series.
The platforming is enjoyable and familiar enough. Maybe too familiar, The Sands of Time is seven years old, and throughout your first hours of The Forgotten Sands, the template can show its age. To pepper the clambering with some variation, the Prince is granted the power to solidify water which gushes out all over the place in Malik’s palace. Waterfalls become walls to run on and spurts become convenient swinging poles. It’s a neat trick, but quickly starts to feel like just another button to hold down as you negotiate the palace’s terrain. And it’s all rather charmless, as the Prince (a prissy twit, it has to be said), in his brown vest, runs across a brown wall up to a brown ledge where he fights some brown ghouls. It’s all a bit dull, frankly, and you start to wonder just what this new makeover brings to the Prince of Persia canon, aside from pounding old ground. And brown.
But then, the game blooms. Slowly, at first. A growing confidence in ideas begins to mould more elaborate playgrounds. The odd cinematic set-piece raises the pulse. That water mechanic starts to make a great deal more sense, as you flip across frozen poles, re-liquefying the water to leap through a tumbling waterfall, solidifying it again to grab the next spurt of water guiding your path. Giant, head-scratching clockwork puzzles break up the action. And before you know it, colour starts to creep into the environments; detailed baths, tiled in blue and gold mosaic; luscious green roof gardens, and an arresting scene as the Prince clambers up the outside of the palace, spires twisting below while the Persian sun glistens on the horizon. It’s a shame that the time-rewind isn’t used to more effect than just correcting mistakes and bringing you back from the dead, but further powers add kinks to the platforming. Even the combat starts to pick up, with a pleasant upgrade muddle of elemental powers to unleash on your ghastly enemies.
As the game reaches its zenith, you find yourself propelled forward, enjoying a new-found sense of pacing. That stodgy opening but a distant memory as all the powers you have gathered coalesce into a formidable arsenal, tackling huge vertical puzzles that get bigger and more intricate, with your fingers needing to be as nimble as the Prince on screen. By the end, the Prince is still the same twit, but the world he inhabits has developed a character, even if it can take a while to reveal itself.
So, yes, to an extent, The Forgotten Sands does capture some of that Sands of Time magic. That’s a credit to Ubisoft and the game’s greatest strength, but also its biggest flaw. That we have to go back to 2003 for inspiration says a lot about Prince of Persia, a video game series seemingly stuck in a cycle of identity crises. As a game in the here and now, The Forgotten Sands can feel dated, its hero outshone by glossy new kids on the block like Nathan Drake. The Forgotten Sands is certainly fun while it lasts, but you can’t help but wonder where next for our fair Prince of Persia. It’s a puzzle that cannot be solved by just another makeover.
At least this time there is a goal: to turn back the clock seven years and recapture the magic of Sands of Time, widely regarded as the series high watermark. So all traces of 2008’s Prince Of Persia reboot has vanished; the pretty cel-shading, the roguish Prince, the instant restarts by the hand of the gorgeous Princess Elika. All gone, replaced with last generation’s time-reversal mechanic and a smattering of new ideas.
Ultimately, though, we’re on familiar ground - or walls - here. The Forgotten Sands goes old-school, relegating its story (the Prince’s brother, Malik, unwittingly unleashes a demonic sand army into his palace, you have to send it back) to brief interstitial cutscenes. Its only logic is to push you on, throwing up new challenges and granting you new powers at key points.
Otherwise it’s the same wall-running and pole-swinging that made the Prince such a hit. Though you perhaps wouldn’t guess it from the game’s opening, dropping you into a depressingly brown, war-torn castle. It’s a typically bombastic opening; swathes of soldiers smash into each other below the rampart you’re standing on, and in the middle distance, a horde of guys in armour come charging your position, spoiling for a rumble.
Prince of Persia has never been renowned for its combat and The Forgotten Sands isn’t about to challenge the perception. Swordplay isn’t terrible as such, but it is rather uninspiring. The Prince attempts to swing with elegance, pirouetting in between enemies before smacking them upside the head. But he moves as if cutting through treacle; slow and slightly laboured. In your hands it’s gluey and unresponsive. It has its moments; booting a skeleton off a ledge is always good for a laugh and the Prince can cheerfully jump on the heads of these ghouls, hopping between each one before flipping into the air and ramming his sword down an exposed gullet.
So the combat is gloopy and a little bland, but not entirely unpleasant –a bit like rice pudding. But, and not looking to labour an analogy, we need a juicy dollop of jam to sweeten things up. The Prince’s greatest strength has always been his heady, exhilarating form of parkour. Scuttling across and up walls, swinging from handy poles, defying gravity and death as he scoots over spinning razor blades sweeping across walls (Persia’s essential home defence accessory). Hurling the Prince across great chasms is as easy and approachable as ever, and it becomes clear where the focus in the game’s engine lies. While this could have gone someway to explain the rather disparate fighting, with the two disciplines never quite feeling part of the same whole, The Forgotten Sands uses the same engine as Assassin’s Creed II, a game in which the climbing and combat always felt connected. Quite what has been lost in translation is unclear, but it remains a regular blemish on the series.
The platforming is enjoyable and familiar enough. Maybe too familiar, The Sands of Time is seven years old, and throughout your first hours of The Forgotten Sands, the template can show its age. To pepper the clambering with some variation, the Prince is granted the power to solidify water which gushes out all over the place in Malik’s palace. Waterfalls become walls to run on and spurts become convenient swinging poles. It’s a neat trick, but quickly starts to feel like just another button to hold down as you negotiate the palace’s terrain. And it’s all rather charmless, as the Prince (a prissy twit, it has to be said), in his brown vest, runs across a brown wall up to a brown ledge where he fights some brown ghouls. It’s all a bit dull, frankly, and you start to wonder just what this new makeover brings to the Prince of Persia canon, aside from pounding old ground. And brown.
But then, the game blooms. Slowly, at first. A growing confidence in ideas begins to mould more elaborate playgrounds. The odd cinematic set-piece raises the pulse. That water mechanic starts to make a great deal more sense, as you flip across frozen poles, re-liquefying the water to leap through a tumbling waterfall, solidifying it again to grab the next spurt of water guiding your path. Giant, head-scratching clockwork puzzles break up the action. And before you know it, colour starts to creep into the environments; detailed baths, tiled in blue and gold mosaic; luscious green roof gardens, and an arresting scene as the Prince clambers up the outside of the palace, spires twisting below while the Persian sun glistens on the horizon. It’s a shame that the time-rewind isn’t used to more effect than just correcting mistakes and bringing you back from the dead, but further powers add kinks to the platforming. Even the combat starts to pick up, with a pleasant upgrade muddle of elemental powers to unleash on your ghastly enemies.
As the game reaches its zenith, you find yourself propelled forward, enjoying a new-found sense of pacing. That stodgy opening but a distant memory as all the powers you have gathered coalesce into a formidable arsenal, tackling huge vertical puzzles that get bigger and more intricate, with your fingers needing to be as nimble as the Prince on screen. By the end, the Prince is still the same twit, but the world he inhabits has developed a character, even if it can take a while to reveal itself.
So, yes, to an extent, The Forgotten Sands does capture some of that Sands of Time magic. That’s a credit to Ubisoft and the game’s greatest strength, but also its biggest flaw. That we have to go back to 2003 for inspiration says a lot about Prince of Persia, a video game series seemingly stuck in a cycle of identity crises. As a game in the here and now, The Forgotten Sands can feel dated, its hero outshone by glossy new kids on the block like Nathan Drake. The Forgotten Sands is certainly fun while it lasts, but you can’t help but wonder where next for our fair Prince of Persia. It’s a puzzle that cannot be solved by just another makeover.
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