Where’s the line between gimmick and feature? Leximan makes me wonder. A gimmick is something tacked on to an otherwise complete whole. The free, small popcorn that gets you into the movies so they can fleece you hot dogs. It’s an interesting point, because Leximan’s key gameplay mechanic feels dangerously like a gimmick at times. You might read the description and, from its focus on using words, expect some Bookworm type action. It’s not that. It’s more like arranging fridge magnets.
And yet, it works. The Leximan package, taken as a whole, is rather wonderful. It’s a game that doesn’t take itself remotely seriously, so you can forgive it a lot of things. It also manages to slip some quite heartfelt themes inbetween the wackiness too. Maybe a gimmick is all it needed. So, while Leximan feels like an (occasionally frustrating) box of assorted toys, it still makes for a thoroughly enjoyable time.
Sticks And Stones
Leximan is a story about people that don’t quite fit in. Case in point, we open by asking for admittance to a wizard school without knowing a lick of magic. Well, that’s not quite true – we have a magical lexicon that lets us cast spells by forming words. We’ll get to how that works in a moment. We’re reluctantly accepted into school, but almost immediately start causing chaos. Apparently, the teachers don’t like it when you summon a giant, flaming demon in the middle of a basic magic class. We get banished to the basement, and get reasonably comfortable there, before the tower explodes and we’re pitched into the real world.
The writing underpinning Leximan is really quite strong. For one, there’s a firm undercurrent of humour running through things. First, in the general descriptions. It conjured up feelings of old adventure games, but there’s gameplay humour too. Like summoning a burger to placate an angry golem. But the characters involved aren’t jokes – they have a lot of depth to them. Take Wressa, an alchemist with chronic anxiety, and Sparx, an angry pyromancer. Both go through nice arcs together, becoming more confident and less fiery (pun intended) respectively as they grow closer together. I was sorry to say goodbye.
Our protagonist might be something of a weak link, as they’re the centre of attention but you can’t really say anything. I’d say the gameplay helps there. The core gameplay is ‘combat’ with the lexicon. When this happens, you’ll find fragments of words floating around that you can match together to form what words you like. So you can summon a burger, or you can ‘crush’, or whatever else. They usually all have amusing results. Like when I was asked to provide something volatile for a potion, so chucked a grenade in.
The Pen Is Mightier
I feel Leximan‘s combat is good fun, but a little limited. It could be my dictionary skills aren’t as sharp as they used to be, but I could only see a handful of words for each challenge. I was hoping we’d progress to sentences, or something more complex, but we never do. Same with using spells in the overworld, it never felt that challenging. We can’t, say, defeat the Rat King by tying a bunch of other rats together to produce an actual king. We just have to use the word ‘snoop’. Obviously, more complexity would be a nightmare to program, but it added to that ‘gimmick’ feeling.
It’s not helped by Leximan’s absolute obssession with minigames. Every time I was hoping for some wonderful leximancy, it would devolve into a minigame. Some of them are okay, but they’re so diverse that some hit better than others. I’m not the biggest Vampire Survivors’ fan, so the minigames that echoed that didn’t really vibe with me. The less said about the god-awful driving minigame the better. The ones where you dodge attacks weren’t too shabby, nor was the RPG mechanic near the end. So, in general, the minigames are alright.
What bothers me more is that they feel like slices of seperate games all jumbled together. I’d rather be spending my time grappling with the unique central mechanic, rather than playing ten demos of different games. When the minigames actually try and explore the leximancy – like using it to brew coffee – it’s a lot more entertaining. Even mechanics like combining items in prison felt like it was close enough to be interesting. But the rest of them make Leximan feel like a buffet. Piles of different food all lumped together, none quite sitting right with the others.
Leximan – Bit Muddled, But Overall Great
In terms of presentation, I find Leximan quite charming. I can see some people being put off by the artstyle, particularly the 1-Bit style of the characters, but I rather like it. It also doesn’t use it as an excuse to skimp on adding colour and life to its environments, and there’s plenty of expression to the characters. Plus, if you’re planning to mock it, you’ll have to get in line behind Leximan itself, as it loves to mock its potato-esque protagonist. Soundtrack is also very catchy. Hell, I’ve bought it and am currently listening to it. An OST of ear worms.
My overall feeling towards Leximan then is that it feels like a collection of seperate toys that have been stitched together. It could have failed horribly. Fortunately, it’s held together by some smart, heartfelt and genuinely funny writing. While I could have done with a few less minigames – seriously, guys, what were you thinking with that mailman mini-game? – it was a delight to play. The final product is a slightly muddled game with a great central idea, nice writing and a cracking sense of humour.
