Reviewer's Note: Since part of what makes this game so fun are the gameplay surprises, if you haven't played it then perhaps avoid reading this until later.  Obviously I won't be an open book; nevertheless, there are some mechanical concepts I'd like to examine in detail.  Read on at your own risk.

In what is one of the most ill-timed corporate quotes of the year, Sony's CFO Hiroki Totoki stated to The Financial Times: "Whether it’s for games, films or anime, we don’t have that much IP that we fostered from the beginning."  This was published mere days before Astro Bot's release date and subsequent rebuttal.  But it's not as though one had to wait for this game to prove Totoki incorrect; after all, Team Asobi's first PS5 title, Astro's Playroom, was bundled with every console and within its hallowed halls were over twenty years' worth of fostered history.  Fast-forward almost four years later, said repudiation is only made stronger by a fully-fledged, bigger-budget platformer that not only continues to solidify Astro as a great mascot but also this team as a premier developer.

As a continuation of Playroom, this PlayStation-branded universe is immediately shown at the start.  Our caped protagonist and fellow bot buddies are cruising in their PS5-shaped spaceship until an obnoxious green alien attacks them and violently rips out the ship's CPU.  The resultant explosion causes both bots and other ship parts to scatter across the cosmos.  After crash-landing on a desert planet with the mothership, Astro quickly comes to and prepares to save every lost companion and revive their battered vessel.


The time from the opening seconds to Astro hopping onto his DualSense-shaped spaceship is mere minutes, which speaks to an enthusiastic attitude to get you familiar with its structure.  If you've touched the Super Mario Galaxy titles, you'll get the gist of this: arrive at the newly-unlocked galaxy, see the only available themed planet, dive into that world to reach the end, and subsequently unlock more nearby planets to rescue more bots.  It's that classic collect-a-thon structure focused on giving you dopamine hits through perilous platforming and fun discoveries.  Even the option "Dive In" when selecting the next locale implies you should put on a bib before wolfing down your desert.

The Galaxy comparison is apropos given that, despite all the PlayStation paraphernalia, it feels like the "most Nintendo" 3D platformer not made by Nintendo in recent memory.   Now, that's not to discount other indie platformers with a bright atmosphere, tight controls, and other miscellaneous features typical to that brand; rather, it's to highlight all of those qualities whilst also leveraging this hardware as far as $60 can take it.  In that respect, Astro Bot is in exceedingly rare company.  And it's constantly flexing that fact by showering you with multitudinous leaves, colored sprinkles, tiny voxels, and on and on it goes.  You can tangibly feel Asobi's giddiness in allowing you to wreak cute pandemonium as often as possible.

Interfacing with these worlds doesn't settle just for impressive visual fidelity.  As with Playroom, the DualSense plays a key role in immersion.  With Astro's sensory peg legs, each floor texture – metallic, grassy, muddy, etc. – has this tactile synesthesia translated to your controller's haptics; in other words, your palms can tangibly differentiate when Astro's slicing across an icy surface and trudging through muck.  The same principle applies to its adaptive triggers for unique power-ups, boosting across the cosmos, and the special occasions with ranged weapons; conversely, certain inputs can be toggled off in either the options menu – like the fiddly motion-based movements – or using a wired headset to avoid awkwardly blowing at the DualSense to create wind.  You'll never sell me on blowing at your DualSense as anything other than a fucking stupid idea.  Overall though, that level of dimension through the controller's sensors adds an extra layer to its already-impressive presentation.   
 

Aside from the aforementioned lesser gimmicks, these additions don't feel as though they're there for a corporate checklist or simply because the hardware can do it whilst keeping a smooth framerate.  No, these minute details seem to come from a developer culture trying to maximize fun.  "Why shower Astro with a bajillion apples after beating a minor boss?  Because… why not?  That actually sounds like a splendid reward!  And before that aforementioned boss fight, Astro should scale that huge tree while it’s singing a funky rap."  That animated attitude towards silliness or child-like wonder, from superfluous gameplay pitches to Kenneth Young's charming tracks, is ingrained across every level.

As much as those technical and creative details inform its effervescent design, Astro Bot wouldn't work nearly as well if the baseline mechanics were unpolished.  Again, those familiar with Playroom understand most of the ins and outs: punch, charged spin attack, jump, and double jump.  Double jump isn’t so much a "jump" as a short hover with Astro firing two plasma beams from his feet.  This comes with the benefit of not only staying in the air longer but also instantly killing most minions hit beneath him.  They're also useful in breaking away weak surfaces, such as glass floors, thin ice, and more, which can unintentionally lead to your own demise as well.  While limited, general locomotion for punches, jumps, and various other moves feel precise and rewarding.

On top of the mechanical basics, most levels also have some sort of animal-themed power-up.  From bulldog jetpacks zipping straight at enemies to froggy arm springs that can break through thick walls and latch onto sticky surfaces, each one feels intuitive and properly incorporated with Astro's moveset.   My favorite would have to be time manipulation, not only for its concept but also the possible wanton destruction; seeing a half-dozen enemies beginning to explode into pieces while frozen in time never gets old.  Part of me would feel guilty if I listed out any more, but suffice to say Asobi's designers succeeded at both the variety and execution of them.

Of course, all those (and plenty more) qualities to gush over doesn't mean it’s free of critiques.  While limiting the fundamentals makes it easier to polish features to a mirror sheen, it's tough to ignore the potential of an expanded action vocabulary.  Astro's inherent simplicity took me back to Super Mario 64.  The garden outside of Princess Peach's Castle felt like more than quaint filler; it was also the perfect playground to test what that version of Mario was capable of: well-timed triple-jumping, tree-climbing, and so on and so on.  The plethora of moves were mind-blowing at the time.  Just imagine Astro diving and going further by the propulsion of his leg lasers or even cartwheel-hopping.

Similarly, I think older 3D platformers' usual health & fail state structure works better for this genre.  Astro Bot's pairing of copious checkpoints with one-hit deaths – outside of major boss fights – lost some of its luster as time went on.  This could be nostalgia talking, but I think Mario 64's health bar and life system created a greater sense of tension; those times of locking in on low health while in a tight spot don’t quite feel the same here.  And, yeah, I do believe this contributes to its somewhat breezy difficulty – outside of boss spectacles or one-off challenge levels.  Health bars can also add more personality as well, like seeing Banjo & Kazooie's depleted faces when down to their last honeycomb.  You can't help but feel guilty for putting them there.  Team Asobi still makes a fair case for these systems in order to maintain forward momentum, but I'm not sure the trade-off is worth it in hindsight.

Outside the more structural qualms, there are a few smaller quibbles too.  The one I'm most surprised about is the (currently) limited amount of accessibility options.  Given Sony's usual pedigree, it's surprising that Astro Bot launched without even basic camera sensitivity.  The camera's slight sluggishness also contributes to one of its more nettlesome mechanics: bow 'n arrow aiming for one special level.  Along with that, the rare occasions where Astro rides a balled-up armadillo don't quite hit the sweet spot of polish seen elsewhere; it's not lackluster per se, but rather there's something small about its momentum and turning that could use slight tweaking.  And while not a mechanical criticism, some standard minions and the main antagonist are aesthetically unimpressive in my eyes.  All told though, these accumulative paper cuts are just that.


As stated, a more sizable complaint about its overly generous checkpoints makes sense given Asobi's exuberant enthusiasm to push you along each creative level.  Anywhere you can guess there's a secret means there likely is one – whether in the form of trapped bots, secondary puzzle pieces (more on them soon), coins, or secret warp exits to the mysterious Lost Galaxy, which then unlock a new level.  Astro Bot's technical prowess wouldn’t reach its highs without such playful and well-paced design.  It's downright absurd how often you'll hanker to finish the next planet or a short one-off level over and over again.  Short enough to wish you had more, but long enough to avoid wearing out its welcome.  That's tough to maintain across a 12-hour runtime (plus extra for completionist).

For all the praise towards biomes, extricating Astro's compatriots wouldn't feel as rewarding without the hub world.  What starts out as a sandy spit of land with a busted PS5 in the middle eventually becomes a bustling space of rescued companions; sure, most are just lazily hanging about, but at least some are trying to fix the mothership as best as they can.  Where secondary puzzle pieces come into play is in transforming part of the land into a cosmetic shop for Astro, the DualSense speeder, a zoo, and a Gacha machine.  As with Playroom, the randomized Gacha prizes extend to cosmetics for Astro and his speeder, but the best prizes affect the themed bots; for example, win the Tomb Raider one and now Lara Bot is being perpetually chased around the mothership by a red raptor.  Every specially-themed bot has one unique animation locked behind this.  It creates this interesting cycle where rescued bots, puzzle pieces, and gold coins all play a critical role in thoroughly building up this place.


As an ode to PlayStation, Astro Bot succeeds at meaningfully infusing its history; as an all-ages theme park, it succeeds by infusing each location with an overwhelming sense of joyous wonder most often felt in Nintendo platformers, but with a level of technical sophistication not yet seen from its hardware; as a 3D platformer, well… you come in understanding the trade-off of mechanical simplicity for polish and pacing.  While Team Asobi worked hard in managing that compromise, a part of me wonders what greater player expression would've contributed to its platforming, intrinsic challenge, and so on.  Regardless, at least those reservations never kept me from smiling at Astro's endearing spirit.

Contractor by trade and writer by hobby, Lee's obnoxious criticisms have found a way to be featured across several gaming sites: N4G, VGChartz, Gaming Nexus, DarkStation, and TechRaptor! He started gaming in the mid-90s and has had the privilege in playing many games across a plethora of platforms. Reader warning: each click given to his articles only helps to inflate his Texas-sized ego. Proceed with caution.