Crash Twinsanity: The Forgotten Gem
A look back at the most uniquely absurd entry in the franchise
This past summer, Sony quenched the thirsts of old-school Playstation fans with the announcement that Crash Bandicoot would, indeed, be making a triumphant return. This came in the form of an announcement that Sony would be partnering with Activision to remaster the original Crash trilogy for a release on the Playstation 4. Gamers’ penchant for old video game mascots finally yielded a victory: Crash has been given a second chance. Perhaps — if proven to be profitable—this venture will lead to the development of even more Crash titles. But, objectively, is the nostalgic fixation over these original titles the wisest of options? Or is there a more standout, intriguing title that should be examined more and used as a blueprint for what the rightful direction of the franchise ought to be? Spoiler Alert: Yes, there is, and it’s called Crash Twinsanity.
Crash Twinsanity is an open world platform game that was released way back in August 2004 for the Playstation 2 and original Xbox. It’s a not-so-direct sequel to Crash Bandicoot: The Wrath of Cortex, which was released in 2001 for the Playstation 2, Gamecube, and Xbox (and later as a downloadable title for the Xbox 360). One of the things these two titles share — and much to the dismay of many Crash fans alike — is that they were both developed by Traveller’s Tales instead of Naughty Dog, the creators of the original trilogy. While certainly not an incapable developer, Traveller’s Tales had initially whiffed with Wrath of Cortex, the first Crash game for, at the time, the next generation of consoles.
While not a terrible game, Wrath of Cortex seemed to be an inadequate next step for the orange adventurer. The game still had the same spiritual lunacy of the previous titles, from both Crash himself to the varied environments and levels. However, it simply wasn’t as mechanically sound as the previous titles and was just, kinda, missing something. In a way, this might’ve been the product of people’s unrealistic and inaccurate view of the bandicoot — maybe, perhaps, just a thought: His games weren’t that great in the first place. Personally, I think this is 100% true for the very first Crash Bandicoot, which hasn’t aged well at all, and is simply hidden behind a manipulative cloak of nostalgia preventing people from seeing the truth.
With that in mind, there was plenty reason to be skeptic about Twinsanity. The game was clearly going for a different style—one seeking to embrace Crash’s more wacky side—and a new gameplay dynamic: Crash and Cortex working together. Yes, indeed, that good ole’ “The enemy of my enemy is my friend” sort of spiel. As it turns out, though, these design choices worked out rather well. Twinsanity is one of the more enjoyable Crash games ever made. It takes the personality and vibe to a whole other abstract, demented level that — even with it’s numerous, and glorious, flaws—remains as the last truly good Crash game.
The game starts off with Crash’s sister, Coco, carelessly galloping through the woods chasing a butterfly; as one usually does when galloping through the woods. Then Crash’s nemesis Dr. Neo Cortex — who’s presence Coco is blissfully unaware of—stuns the female bandicoot with his trusty blaster, and kidnaps her in order to (barely) disguise himself as her. Immediately thereafter, Cortex uses his new disguise (and hilarious imitation of a female voice) to get Crash’s attention and lure him into a trap; officially kicking off the adventure.
We then embark on an amusing tutorial level, introducing us to all the usual moves we’ve grown accustomed to playing as the orange marsupial; from his pristine jumping skills to his murderous spin move. One distinguishable aspect between Twinsanity and other Crash games is that the game plays more fluidly. Indeed, the controls are tight—movement, spin moves, belly flops and all—which might surprise some. But the precise controls aren’t even in the upper stratosphere of what makes the game so remarkable; nay, it’s actually something far more dastardly. Towards the end of this tutorial segment we are given our first glance at the absurdity of Twinsanity.
[Deep, English accent, smarty-pants-scientist type of voice] OBSERVE:
There you have it: The first specific instance in which Twinsanity showcases us it’s demented, unique, and true colors. It’s Deadpool before Deadpool; that oh-so-popular technique of 4th-wall breaking and all of it’s glorious results. Another scene, in which Cortex is seen pleading to jetpack penguins, is even more hysterical — and, quite frankly, it’s underlying commentary on the fans/content-creator relationship is far more clever than it has any right to be. It’s personality is incredibly refreshing and more charming than you’d expect. Sure, Crash has always been a character that exudes a crazed personality, but previous titles, as a whole, were far more streamlined. You did crazy things, sure. There were crazy environments, sure. There were crazy bosses, sure. BUT. DID. IT. FEATURE. SPANKING.
You see, the world of Twinsanity is brimming with personality; sporadically sprinkled all over the place, from the smart 4th-wall-breaking incantations to the more basic and silly intricacies you’ll notice on your quest (small thing: I love how, unlike previous Crash games, enemies hit with the spin move don’t fly off the screen, they just get knocked the hell out). Even the game’s soundtrack—which I’m convinced is begging to be hit with a hip-hop/electronic remix—has it’s own kooky, distinct flavor. The developers conjured up as much creativity as possible and successfully inundated the Crash series with something new.
It all works, too, since the overall plot of the game is incredibly muddled and nonsensical. It’s basically just Crash and Cortex being forced to work together in order to stop two evil birds who originate from the mysterious Tenth Dimension and have a grudge against Cortex for some unknown reason. This, unfortunately, leads to the negative side of things; for as much as Twinsanity gets right, it’s far from perfect.
The time it took me to complete the game, 100% through, only rounded out to about 4 hours. That’s even more disappointing considering, upon further inspection, that the game was originally supposed to include a lot more content. There were multiple occasions where the game abruptly stopped it’s ideas from flowing, and just continued onward with a separate, unrelated path of unplanned deviations. It’s like the person who edited Batman v Superman—indeed, the movie I will never cease to make fun of—had been the game’s lead designer. It’s a testament to how rushing a game’s development will, shockingly, have a painfully deleterious (did I just use that word?) effect on the finished product.
It’s disheartening to project how much better Crash Twinsanity could have been if it were given the proper time to nurture, since it’s gameplay and thematically wacky ideas were something relatively unique to the platformer genre. Sure, it was no where near the proudly irreverent levels of Conker’s Bad Fur Day (a game I promise will be discussed extensively in the future), but it was certainly an encouraging, and entertaining, new ingredient thrown into the mix. It’s this kind of attitude I hope will again emerge, through some form, in future Crash games. The new remastered trilogy looks great, and I’d bet my prized Twitter account on it’s success, or lack thereof, being the factor that decides whether or not we’ll get a new, original Crash adventure. I hope we do — and more importantly, I hope we get one that follows the unappreciated, uncanny blueprint of Crash Twinsanity.
