Far Cry Primal is a case study in how a game's setting can drive its every layer, from the tone of its story, to the dangers of its world, to the brutality of its combat.
That setting is the Stone Age. It's 10,000 BC, and our protagonist Takkar is searching for the lost members of his Wenja tribe. They're scattered across the Oros Valley, a dense wilderness of forests, swamps, and frozen caves, complete with mammoths and sabertooth tigers. As Takkar, you'll build up a new Wenja village with a multifarious cast of characters.
This reconstruction sets up Primal's progression system. By recruiting the aforementioned Wenja--such as the shaman Tensay or the warrior Karoosh--you'll unlock new items, weapons, and abilities. When you look past the facade, it's essentially a new skin for the franchise's traditional upgrade structure. But it lends character to what could be a lifeless system.
As you build up your tribe from within, you encounter members of other groups, the majority of whom have plans contrary to your own. The identity of each of the game's three tribes, and the political dynamic between them, sets up conflicts in a natural way.
So too does Primal's world. In fact, most of the game's conflicts arise from nature. Primal still uses the basic open-world framework of a traditional Far Cry game, with a cascading series of outposts to capture, weapons to unlock, and upgrades to craft. But the Stone Age setting is far more foreboding than those of past Far Cry games.
Here, vicious animals travel in packs, striking as a collective whole while you slink through the undergrowth toward enemy camps. A day/night cycle also adds more tension to the world: predators are more abundant and aggressive in the darkness. Even now, after dozens of hours in this valley, I still feel anxious as the sun goes down, hoping I have enough animal fat to ignite my club and ward off hulking carnivores.
This focus on survival permeates Far Cry Primal. In the northern wastes, the cold becomes a factor, making each bonfire a glowing beacon of safety as you fight to stay warm. In Primal's lush swampland, avoiding danger means avoiding the water, where underwater predators abound.
View the full review HERE.There's a fine balance between tension and fun that elevates the whole experience.