Transistor
“We’re not going to get away with this, are we?”
Your first action in developer Supergiant’s sophomore release is to yank a gigantic talking techno-sword from the still-warm corpse of an unidentified man.
Things only get weirder from there.
Transistor is, at heart, both a hard-boiled sci-fi noir and tragic story of star-crossed lovers. The whos, whys, and hows will become (mostly) clear across the eight-or-so hours it’ll take you to complete its campaign, as you steer protagonist Red (an elegant, smouldering, celebrity songstress) through the city of Cloudbank in search of answers.
Your constant companion is the titular Transistor, the aforementioned humungo-blade and home to disembodied souls (let’s just say it’ll be somewhat cramped in there by the end of your playthrough). It’s pretty chatty, as far as swords go, fulfilling much the same role as Bastion’s Narrator by contextually commenting on your actions and nudging you in the right direction. It’s a far more active participant in the narrative, however, existing as Red’s confidante rather than a 4th-wall-breaking commentator. It’s also your sole method of smashing the metal shells off the bodies of invading robotic army, The Process.
They’re presented as the cannon fodder for the primary antagonists, a shadowy cabal called the Camarata, though their relationship isn’t nearly as straightforward as you may think. Regardless, most of your playtime will be spent engaging the various droid-types via a smart real-time/pause battle system, employing different “functions” (attacks) to slap the robo-shit out of them.
It sounds simplistic, particularly when you realise you’re only able to wield four primary skills at a time, but believe me when I say the skill system is very much the jewel in Transistor’s considerably ornate crown. Each of the sixteen skills you’ll accumulate can be used as-is: Crash(), a short-range damage-dealer; Jaunt(), an instant dash; Load(), a stationary explosive detonated by a subsequent attack. But they all have a secondary application: augment Crash() with Jaunt(), and the attack becomes instant, as well as becoming useable during post-pause downtime. Apply Load() to Mask() (a temporary stealth power), and you unleash a devastating blast as you disappear. Add to the mix that reversing the combination produces a different effect, that each primary skill can have up to two augments, and that every one of those sixteen powers can be applied as a passive skill with new bonuses? You’re basically Bruce Bogtrotter from Matilda, and this is your family-size chocolate cake.
All this action is layered over an interesting enough narrative, even if it can be a tad…opaque, at times. It never feels pompous though; more an affectionate allusion to its noir inspiration. Critically, you’ll want to find out more about the mysterious Red, why her voice was taken, and what exactly the Transistor’s purpose is. And, if you want more, you’ve got the expandable biographies of notable Cloudbank residents, the public news kiosks dotted around, or even the ingenious Limiters: a modular and entirely optional in-built difficulty system based around the abilities of your enemies. Even if you do choose to absorb every ounce of sweet, sweet lore you can find, it’s smart enough to leave enough ambiguity in there that you never truly know where it’s headed, resulting in some pleasing curveballs and set-pieces. And the finale…oh, God…it’s pretty damn emotional, and a real testament to Logan Cunningham’s performance as the Transistor that you’re so invested despite the fact he’s essentially been talking to himself the entire time. It’s really quite beautiful.
Time-wise, you’re not going to have many problems finding the hours in the day to get through this one. In addition to its relatively short run-time, the overworld is generously checkpointed, ensuring you’re never more than about 30 seconds away from an Access Point (these also serve as your skill modification hub). It’s also easy…maybe a little too easy, by default, with a K.O. resulting only in the temporary loss of a single function. This itself is preceded by a barely-disguised auto-pause, allowing you to collect yourself and escape whichever sentient piledriver has you smashed against the ground. Of course, you could always go to town on those Limiters I mentioned, and really test yourself. You want The Process to feed you double the pain? Go for it. How about less available space to equip those precious skill combos? Knock yourself out; you’ll get a nice little percentage experience boost for your trouble.
These brilliantly interwoven systems result in an experience within which you grow to feel powerful and capable; not because it was bestowed upon you, but because you’ve earned it. By the time you approach the final boss (the villains are few and far between, though some are less…villainous than others), you’ll be dancing around those stages, adept in your chosen combination of abilities and aiding Red in giving the performance of a lifetime.
Highly recommended, then. This is an intelligent, refined and polished title that deserves your attention. Like many others, I didn’t bother with it on release, despite being well aware of it and having been impressed (though far less so) with Bastion. But that’s my loss. Transistor easily ranks among the best strategic-action games released over the last few years, and I’m a god damn fool for not experiencing it sooner.
