Minimalism, then.

Consider the music, for instance: It isn’t old school chiptune music, nor is it trying to be. But it has learned from chiptune music, about the advantages of limited instruments, odd sounds and simple melodies. The music of Plasma Warrior is minimalistic and muted, and has a certain repetitiveness that makes it seem almost like background noise – the bassline becoming the humming of the earth; surrounding you as you explore the caverns of an unfamiliar planet.

But wait – I have tricked you! Plasma Warrior is actually not about minimalism. The minimalism exists to serve... the very nearly abstract!

Or, recalling the lunatic pressing a gun to my temple: ‘very-nearly-abstraction’.

Jesus, what?

Very-nearly-abstraction is what old school videogames are all about. Like the dragon from Adventure that looks like a duck: It doesn’t matter if it’s a dragon or a duck or anything really – it is what it is, and looks like what it looks like. All that matters is that you recognise it, and understand its purpose in the game. Its personality and history and species – you can make that up for yourself.

Plasma Warrior is about as very-nearly-abstract as games come – making it an especially ‘videogamey’ videogame. The graphics, for instance, are... open to interpretation. “Is that a such-and-such...? Or is it just lines and blobs of colour?” It tugs at your imagination, pulling you into the game – while paradoxically keeping you aware of the videogame-ness of it all.

Even the way your character moves is videogamey: When he jumps, there is a weird noise that sounds nothing like someone jumping – but nonetheless, it is definitely a jumping noise. He moves through the air in a strange fashion and at an odd speed – I can control him easily, but I’m never completely at ease. The instant he leaves the ground – and this may be the most videogamey touch of all – his legs split apart, and freeze in that position until he lands.

I’m aware that I’ve just described Super Mario, but what I’m trying to explain is that all these videogame quirks that you and I know from a thousand games... they’re all just a tiny bit more videogamey and quirky in Plasma Warrior.

Even the game’s dialogue is videogamey – just precisely wooden enough to undermine its seriousness, but not so incompetently written as to be actually funny. I’m not going to pretend that this was deliberate on the author’s part, but regardless, it contributes to Plasma Warrior’s weird appeal.

This has all been a preamble. Here is my review:

Plasma Warrior

Plasma Warrior is a game where you play a robot-looking fellow who lands on a planet in his spaceship and shoots things, while looking for weapon upgrades and keys to open doors, so as to eventually uncover the terrible secret that lies buried beneath the poisoned earth. It has gorgeous graphics, music that is also gorgeous, and is fun to play.

The game is exactly like Metroid but different. It’s much smaller and the exploration and problem-solving are simpler. Perhaps this is the result of author Tom Vine’s limited game design experience, but perhaps he is a huge-brained mutant genius, because it permits the player to relax and enjoy the strange, unsettling atmosphere. Also, I declare that Plasma Warrior controls better than Metroid.

You have infinite lives and when you die, you are instantly returned to the last save point. I mean instantly. None of that silly fucking around like in some games.

If you like, you can think of Plasma Warrior as a streamlined version of Metroid. It’s actually more than that, but you really need to play it for yourself, which I, by the power of the many demons I command, exhort you to do.

FINAL SCORE: COMMUNISM