Bokura is a cooperative pixel puzzler that requires two separate screens and two separate purchases to play. This means both you and your willing gaming acquaintance have to buy the game. Don’t be under the impression that you will be able to use game share—oh no! You have to dig into your decrepit old wallet once again to buy Bokura all over again. Furthermore, an online membership is needed just to be able to play, turning a £4 budget title into something a little heftier. Believe me, if you don’t read the small print before downloading and starting Bokura, on your head be it!
Upon launching the game, you are met with a screen that is about as accessible as penetrating the infamous Berlin Wall. For starters, you are slapped with a barrage of Kanji characters. This is only changeable to your native tongue after about 30 seconds of randomly clicking until you luckily hit the right option. I can’t help but feel it would be much more sensible for the game to start with a list of all available languages, allowing players to select their desired setting before the game even begins.
Once you figured out that complexing problem then you find yourself on a inviting home page that looks very simple at first but it’s only simple if two consoles are connected and even then it makes as much sense as getting Stevie Wonder to be your driving instructor, plus there is no warning that pops up aiding you or advising you to add another console so for the first five minutes I was clicking back-and-forth on what appears to be the friend code just mind numbingly tapping away on this laborious start screen.
Then to add insult to injury, properly reviewing this title involved jumping through endless hoops. I had to dig out a dusty old switch from storage, repurchase the game, then buy another month of membership just to get Bokura to work. Not to mention for me personally I had to defrost a frozen friend from a long Cryosleep just to play with, but notably this wouldn’t be so much of a problem if you were playing with somebody you knew, however, they would still have to purchase the game separately along with a membership, causing all this hassle before the title has even started.
Interface Idiosyncrasies
Once I had crossed these many problematic bridges, I would love to tell you that Bokura finally started and the enjoyment began. Truthfully, if I wrote that, I would only be lying to make friends. What I actually had to do was begrudgingly ask Google for help just to figure out how to set the lobby up. Maybe it’s because I’m a half-brain-dead genocide monkey, but let’s be clear: there are going to be children over the age of 12 (judging by the game’s PEGI rating) trying to set this up, and it really needs to be simpler.
Honestly, navigating this interface is about as pleasurable as passing kidney stones the size of walnuts. I truly cannot see how developer Kodansha Ltd has made such a mess of this. You have a better chance of recreating the Mona Lisa in urine after drinking six cans of Special Brew than you do of just making this user interface work.
Interface idiosyncrasies aside, let’s try and get on with the actual review. The story starts with two nameless brothers—who are mostly referred to as “Green” and “Blue” due to the colours of their jackets—on a train ride home after a long day. The player is greeted with text detailing the boys’ boring lives and what has been occurring in their day. However, I have to admit I didn’t notice much of it.
There is a slight problem here: you’d better hope the person you are playing with has the exact same reading speed as you. The moment one person clicks that they have finished reading, the text automatically changes on the other person’s screen. With my literacy age of a seven-year-old, I found this utterly infuriating. But I digress. The story does feel very nostalgic, especially if you grew up in the 2000s, as the two brothers spend their time reminiscing and fantasising about buying the new—and definitely not sue-able—”Pakemon.” It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what they are getting at here.
As the narrative begins, it immediately starts pulling on the heartstrings. One of the brothers mentions how their neglectful parents don’t pay them enough attention; an attention they can’t help but crave. I have to say, I really noticed how the narrative direction, paired with the ever-present pixel art style, genuinely manages to evoke a strong sense of emotion.
The gameplay starts when the boys decide to go on an odyssey to destroy a menacing statue that looms over their beloved city. Bokura plays like a basic puzzle side-scroller with very simple controls: the D-pad moves your chosen sibling, and the Y button acts as your action button. However, I have to say, playing as two 10-year-old boys has never felt so cumbersome. Honestly, it felt like these preteens were wearing suits of iron armour. When they jump, they fall from the sky like a sinking stone in the ocean. The best way to describe the overall platforming is clunky at best.
The developers have tried to make the siblings feel like two halves of a KitKat, meaning they are completely inseparable. You are tasked with solving cooperative puzzles where you wholeheartedly rely on each other, whether it is by helping to move boxes into a designated location or jumping on rusty old seesaws to reach a higher destination. All of this helps build the narrative plot between the siblings, underlining just how much they need each other. Without giving any spoilers away, the developers have used this dynamic to cleverly craft a truly heartfelt story.
Overall
So, with everything listed, where exactly are we with this indie cooperative puzzle platformer? Truthfully, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed my experience. The only elements that truly shone for me were the narrative aspects. I did find the cutscenes beautiful in their own way, but the gameplay lacks finesse and, quite frankly, a lot of polish. As I stated before, the characters feel clunky and overweight. Furthermore, I found many of the puzzles to be very conventional, and they really could have done with a little more imagination.
As for the soundtrack, it is as bare as Jeff Bezos’ hairline. It felt like the developers used the music as a mere necessity rather than something that could add ambience and breathe life into stale gameplay.
I would also like to mention the game’s thumbnail. I don’t think it represents the final product in any shape or form, as it portrays two watercolour wanderers who look like they’ve jumped straight out of a BTEC art book. I really wish the developers had used that art style rather than the pixel art they chose to go with for the final project. While I am aware most people would argue that the thumbnail doesn’t matter, I really think it does. It sells a product, so I believe the artwork and the actual game should correspond.
Overall, I think I would give this game a 3.3 out of 10. That might seem a bit harsh, but the sheer trouble of getting the game to run—combined with the lobby and interface issues—really left a bad taste in my mouth and completely dragged the overall experience down.
3.3
+ heartfelt narrative
+ cooperative gameplay
-infuriating interface
-Two purchases required
-Basic mechanics
Reviewed on switch 2
