I Really I wanted to like the action-adventure game The Plucky Squire even more than I do now, after properly trying out its charming 2D-to-3D platforming gameplay. Yes, it's pretty to look at. Yes, it's great to jump out of a storybook and befriend a drawing on a coffee mug. And yes, everyone can have a moderately enjoyable time with its puzzles and combat. But here's the problem: who is everyone? At first, I thought, “This game is for little kids, and that's fine!” given its relative simplicity. Then I came across a few puzzles and thought, “No kid could solve this.”
Then it occurred to me. It struggles to balance the fine line between being approachable for young children and yet layered enough for people who go from “goo goo ga ga” to “oo oo aa aa my back hurts.” And that depends on how boldly you're allowed to squire at any given time, because it can be surprisingly limited and, sadly, a little underwhelming.
Plucky Squire plays Jot, an adventurous young boy. Jot lives inside a storybook, joined by his friends Violet and Thrash. As the pages are turned, the story of how an evil wizard named Humgrump was defeated by Jot is told. However, for a mysterious reason, Humgrump defies fate by tearing Jot from his pages with a never-before-seen spell. From that moment on, you must put an end to Humgrump's evil plans by manipulating the pages by lusting after treasures outside the storybook and using them.
What's immediately obvious is that the adventure is laid out like a children's book, literally turning its pages. A soothing narrator's voice explains what Jot and his friends are up to, while the drawings come to life on a surface so detailed that the sheen of the ink reveals the high-quality GSM it's been overlaid on. Everyone and everything is beautifully drawn, colorful, rounded, and very, very marketable. If there's one thing this game excels at, it's presentation – I'd say it's polished out of ten.
Presentation isn't everything. I'm not sure kids with plum thumbs and/or dirty diapers will care much about Jot's story, or the parents who will be playing the story along with them. I know the pace is naturally a bit slower, as the video game is supposed to lock in the page-turning. thingbut it's still a story that lacks the clear, concise morality of timeless hits like The Rainbow Fish or The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
Maybe I'm being a bit over-the-top as a grumpy adult, but Jot and his friends mostly just wander around the worlds, solving puzzles and bringing people things just to stop Humgrump… I think his evilness then comes across as a kind of “bad kids ruining the environment” message. The same muddled message goes for the extremely messy kid who you all clearly live in and apparently helps you build levels out of boxes, toy blocks and pencils (more on that in a minute). Congratulations, I guess?
Story aside, early on in your adventure you’re limited to the pages of your storybook. A bit of dodging and simple slashing with your sword, maybe jumping between platforms, are the usual. But shortly after your encounter with Humgrump, green swirly portals let you exit the page and enter the 3D realm, the transition smooth and aesthetically pleasing. And when the game allows you to do so, you can move around the book and go back and forth between pages.
Why? Because then you can take advantage of Jot’s best ability, which is to cut highlighted words from sentences and reuse them in others. For example, you can grab the word “cheese” from somewhere, then pop it into the blank space you created in a sentence like “There was a block of ____ sitting in the corner,” so you can lure an angry mouse out of its lair and safely pass it by. These puzzles are some of my favorites, because they make it feel like you’re Frankensteining story beats to overcome obstacles. Combine that ability with that page turner, and you’ve got a recipe for something interesting! When you flip pages back and forth in the 3D realm, the page will hum with light if there’s a useful word there. Clever, right? This means you can cut words from previous pages and then bring them back to the current page.
As you try to foil Humgrump's plans, you'll pass through all sorts of crazy places, like climbing a mountain full of metal-loving rats and a beach inhabited by Tumbo, a chubby bird who exists only to dig and believes that all problems can be solved with a shovel. One of my favorite parts is an artsy world filled with cute drawings by Van Gogh, Picasso, Dali, and many other famous artists who make jokes whose references I don't understand. And here, you're encouraged to leave the pages again and take on one of the several 3D set pieces.
These are, essentially, structures built by the mysterious boy. They involve a bit of platforming and some light puzzles, as you use blocks as booster pads to traverse. Complete a challenge and you'll earn a special ability that lets you manipulate the pages of the book further. These are some of the best parts of the game, as you either hide from bugs in hidden areas (the boy is unstable and lets the bugs wreak havoc in his room as his “pets”) or use trading cards propped up on blocks to scale in 2D before popping out in 3D once you reach the top. But occasionally, you're given some time-extending shenanigans, like when a sentient jellybean asks you to light the six candles scattered around the table, because that's the only way he'll give you any items he has. Ugh.
These are offset somewhat by special bits that allow Jot to engage in some off-track activities, though. Like fighting an elven archer in his own arena: a legitimately different Magic The Gathering card. Or spinning around a galaxy-themed cup while armed with a laser gun and shooting ships in bullet hell. While these are undoubtedly cheek-lifters, I can’t help but feel that they’re short-lived and fairly basic. The fight against the elven archer is turn-based (awesome!), but entirely on rails (…oh). The bullet hell arcade-style part? Yes, middling and no more than it needs to be. The reward after each of these things is always a new toy to mess with further in the storybook pages and to get past Humgrump's pesky obstacles.
These range from gloves that let you tilt book pages and slide or roll things, to stamps that let you create bombs or freeze items in place in the 2D realm. Combined with your previous word-cutting and page-turning abilities, you might think the game has turned your Jot into the Swiss Army pen of the editorial world; if you're so well-rounded that no amount of Humgrump's antics can get in the way of your creativity. Unfortunately, that's not the case.
That doesn't mean there aren't puzzles that don't make you feel clever, like when you tilt the page to open a gap or when you plant a bomb in a 3D space but it falls through a pressure plate in the 2D realm. The problem is, the game gives you so many powerful, world-altering abilities that it has to restrict what's available to you in each puzzle scenario. That means, yes, you and/or your child may feel less overwhelmed while playing — a positive thing. Still, it also removes much of the organic puzzle-solving or creativity from each solution.
For example, there was a puzzle where I had to throw bombs from the 3D realm into the 2D realm and have them land on pressure pads that would open doors or create platforms out of walls. In short: I tried using my Special Stop Stamp to freeze a platform in place so that when I returned to the 2D realm I could jump onto it and exit the level. Nope, that didn't work. Instead I missed a different section where there was a box that I could use to activate another plate. I thought my solution was better!
There are times when the solution is a little open-ended, like, “Go find someone,” so you pull out your mental board and mark what talents you have. to think the game doesn't want you to use it. I eventually came to rely on this ever-ready mini Moonbeard who gave you powerful hints to solve each puzzle, because I was afraid I would bypass each puzzle's specific winning conditions with my own solutions. Or maybe it's just that I don't trust the game's hints.
I don't say this to exaggerate, but seriously, there were a few too many times where I didn't understand the solution the game was giving me. I'd pick up a skill, and it wouldn't immediately sink into my internal toolkit, like the puzzle game Cocoon would ingrain clever environmental clues into your muscle memory. And that's not to mention the number of puzzles that left me stumped because the swirly green portals that let you into the 3D realm didn't appear until I happened to be nearby.
I feel a bit bad criticizing The Plucky Squire, which is ultimately a very fun, non-offensive game designed for those who are definitely not as sick as I am. Its energy is wonderful, cheerful and pleasant – a perfect balm against the horrors of our times. But I think it suffers from trying to do too many things and getting a little lost in them (for what it's worth, it would have been better if it had developed its word-slashing skills better, because it can feel really magical at times). The combat is good, the platforming is good, and for the most part, it's just all there. Good. And the necessary restrictions on your ability use mean you're always looking for a one-note solution, as opposed to feeling like you've actually changed the narrative. Even games 'designed for kids' have deeper layers beneath the surface, where youngsters' creativity is underestimated and old-timers can flex their ingenuity muscles. Scrape away the ink and I don't think there's much underneath The Plucky Squire, sadly.