You probably know the story of Icarus. That Greek guy who made a set of wings, stuck them together with wax, but then flew too close to the sun, melted said wax, and plummeted to his doom. He’s long been the go-to analogy for over-ambitious projects that fail due to unchecked determination. But what if, instead of flying too high and getting royally messed up by the day-star, Icarus had drawn up a great design for his wings, and then decided – possibly under the advice of committee – to add an armchair, a foot-rest, a sandwich toaster and a small patio? Imagine if, with all of these undoubtedly fantastic, high-end features attached, he leapt off the cliff expecting the most comfortable and well-equipped flight in the history of flight, and instead tumbled immediately into the sea under the unnecessary weight of his unwieldy additions.
Yeah, Quantum Break is a bit like that.
Announced as the figurehead for Microsoft’s original Xbox One strategy of blending games and TV together into a delicious, frothy, media milkshake – until MS realised no-one liked how that tasted and cancelled the whole plan – Quantum Break is one-part kinetic, shooting spectacle, one-part static viewing experience, and one part wondering why no-one saw that things weren’t hanging together properly. It’s not that any given element is bad – the TV show segments aren’t great, but you’ve probably seen worse – more that each of Quantum Break’s various constituent parts fail to convincingly connect with the others, leading to a piecemeal, Frankenstein experience unable to use any of its promising but discordant assets to their full potential.
Starting with the game’s main positive, the core shooting experience is certainly capable of delivering a great time. Combining satisfyingly tactile gunplay with an array of quick and immediate time-bending powers – most of which, pleasingly, are furnished early on, expanded only by incremental upgrades across the course of the campaign – at its best, Quantum Break’s combat is a fast, rangey, excitingly free-form experience.
Over the course of any fight (except in odd spots where certain powers are disabled) you’ll likely find yourself using every trick at your disposal. You’ll teleport in and out of cover, and warp-sprint between hails of gunfire to deliver knock-out melee blows. You’ll control space by trapping enemies in pockets of stasis and loading them up with frozen bullets, your salvo ready to hit simultaneously once it regains its momentum. As you dash about the place, you’ll even create impromptu safe-zones on the fly, by deploying bubble-shields of slowed time in which to regenerate health, relatively safe from incoming fire. When in full flow, it’s a lightning-quick, improvisational carnival of unfolding options and self-made advantages, allowing you to mould and reshape the flow and pace of battle on a whim. It’s exhilarating, and very, very empowering, indeed.
But that, actually, is a bit of a problem. If anything, it’s too empowering. Quantum Break quickly makes you such a gleeful master of your surroundings that, even when facing off against enemies with watered-down variants of your abilities, you’ll rarely feel challenged. Taking apart each battlefield is always fun, but with enemy AI hardly oppressive and the game’s more interesting heavy units rationed off for far too long (they rarely integrate into larger fights, usually appearing as imposing but easily dealt-with gimmicks) you’ll all too frequently sprint across the line between ‘powerful’ and ‘godlike’. Spam out the time powers freely enough, and genuine challenge becomes a rarity, for all of the frenetic pace and visual sparkle at play.
See full review Here.