Hey, You Should Try Monster Hunter
Wait don’t leave!
Despite the fact that Monster Hunter: Rise is currently the game I play more than any other, I struggle with how to add to the conversation around the series. A longstanding blockbuster in Japan and now, seemingly, America, it’s had more than its fair share of write-ups. And having only picked it up when Rise released in March, I’m far from an expert. But in a way, this lack of experience might make my perspective more valuable to other newcomers. Maybe what made it resonate with me will be what hooks you too. So here I go, another initiate doing his best to convert the unconverted.
The most obvious argument for trying Monster Hunter is that there’s nothing out there quite like it, a fact which can in some sense be traced to the way the games are released. Unlike most franchises, each new Monster Hunter isn’t a fresh start, but a revision on the game that came before it. And since the series has been around for so long, iterations on top of iterations have built a formidable structure of interlocking systems that have been refined to an often absurd level. Of course its originality doesn’t stop people from summoning up some hopeless approximations anyway. Popular attempts include: Shadow of The Colossus (big bosses!), Dark Souls (dodge rolls too!), insert MMO of choice (spreadsheets!). And valiant though these efforts may be, they invariably fall short.
But then, for those who’ve never tried it, the question remains: What is Monster Hunter like?
It should come as no surprise that the beating heart of the series is its collection of monsters. But calling them monsters is a little misleading. What these creatures most resemble are dinosaurs — or more specifically, gigantic chimeras of dinosaurs and modern-day animals. It’s a small distinction, but it plays an important role in making them more believable. Further elevating this realism are their distinct patterns of behavior, patterns that manifest both during combat and (crucially) outside of it.
Take for instance the raptor-bodied, dodo-headed Kulu-Ya-Ku that attacks its foes with stones or pots or bits of explosive flint. Or consider the electrified Tobi-Kadachi that’s built like an enormous flying squirrel and perches along sheer cliffsides only to swoop down, crackling, on the heads of unfortunate hunters. Though they may initially seem fantastical, it’s through grounding these designs in nature that Monster Hunter is able to carefully maintain an air of verisimilitude — a sense that these aren’t mere bosses, but integral parts of complete, functioning ecosystems.
More even than the monsters though, what keeps me coming back to Monster Hunter is its action. You’d be forgiven for thinking it feels clunky at first, but you’d be wrong. Maybe it’s so hard to find your bearings because, unlike most other games with a dozen or so weapon classes, these all share so little in the way of common vocabulary. In many ways picking up a new class is like starting the game over — it feels that foreign. But with a little persistence they all gel, and you’ll flow expressively from move to move without missing a beat. The payoff for all the learning curves is that they unlock an immense diversity of playstyles. From the hammer’s in-your-face simplicity to the insect glaive’s pogo stick mobility to the longsword’s cool-guy counters, there’s always a new way to bring down your prey, and it’s probably nothing like the last way you tried.
Though the depth of Monster Hunter’s systems may be typified by its weapons, its breadth extends far beyond them. The best way I can illustrate this is with the example of me and my girlfriend. We both love Rise, and have spent plenty of our downtime since its release honing our skills and working our way through the entirety of the main story. Even still, we each possess shockingly different bases of knowledge about the game. Sure I’ve mastered trading at the argosy for the very best materials, while she’s barely touched it. But she uses exploding barrels and flash-bombs at the precise moments they’re most impactful, and I’ve never even bothered bringing any of those things on a single hunt.
Monster Hunter’s reputation as a series that doesn’t click for most people the first (or second) time they try it is about more than just information overload though. The bigger problem is how its ludicrous depth in some aspects manages to be matched only by its baffling shallowness in others. Rise’s new Rampage quests are recurring annoyances that feel almost entirely vestigial. The combos listed in the training area are often counterproductive, and leave many useful techniques up to you to find through experimentation or independent research. Character dialogue ranges all the way from laughable to banal. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.
If these problems are too much for you to forgive, I wouldn’t blame you. I wouldn’t even necessarily disagree. I would still argue however, that through sheer overwhelming force, Monster Hunter ultimately overcomes them all.
