Ivy the Kiwi is hard. Hellishly hard. It may look like something out of a
children's storybook, but make no mistake: beneath its charming,
inviting exterior lies a frustratingly difficult game of escort. It
coaxes you in with its unassuming storybook aesthetic only to run you
down hard with myriad obstacles with relentless abandon. This is a game
that single-handedly disproves any claims of games becoming too easy,
harking back to the days of extreme trial-and-error and requiring
fast-action to succeed.
If that sounds menacing, then I've successfully conveyed the level of
challenge present in Ivy the Kiwi. (Okay, so that last line is rather
hyperbolic. You get the point, though.) Rather than be a deterrent,
however, the relentless challenge is the appeal. Much like the
bullet-hell variety of shooters, Ivy the Kiwi is a game that revels in
its difficult nature, making no compromises whatsoever for the sake of
accessibility. Harsh? Perhaps, but it's that no-holds-barred attitude
that makes Ivy the Kiwi endearing and immensely rewarding.
What exactly the game is from a gameplay standpoint is hard to say. It
doesn't really fall under any of the conventional labels. Classifying it
through such would be a disservice. To put it simply, Ivy is a game of
guidance. You're given no direct control of the adorable titular, fiery
red, eggshell clad bird with whom your charged with babysitting; she
moves on her own, pressing onward constantly without regard for whatever
danger lurks ahead. Your role is guide Ivy through the 100 plus
perilous, obstacle-ridden levels using vines, which you can call out of
thin air wherever you like.
The Wii remote pointer is your means of interaction. Holding down the A
button summons a vine that you can stretch in any direction and place by
letting go of the button, with the pointer directing where it moves.
It's swift and intuitive control, if a touch inaccurate, complimenting
the manic pace of the game.
You wouldn't know it by looking at screenshots or listening to its
cheery soundtrack, which betrays the manic nature of the gameplay with
its controlled pace and mix of cheery and moody tunes to match the
static background images that accompany each new world, but this game is
very frenetic.
The game climbs in difficulty at a fair and steady clip -- the first
couple of worlds are almost effortless, requiring little from you to
achieve success -- it doesn't take long for it to start upping the ante.
In terms of obstacles, the first real threat are spiked walls, which
are easily rendered threat-less by placing some vines before them to act
as barriers. Then enemies, both ground and airborne, are introduced.
Then blocks that can only be destroyed by boulders, as opposed to using
Ivy as a bullet for a makeshift slingshot made of vines. Then drops of
water that somehow inexplicably kill. Then all of it gets thrown
together, at which point you begin to curse the developers for their
fiendish level designs as the whole game begins conspiring against you.
When you combine all of the above and put them into tight, intricate
courses, and add a three-minute time limit on top of that, you get Ivy
the Kiwi at its finest: remarkably fast and devilishly challenging.
Replete with obstacles around every corner, you're forced to react
quickly and with the utmost accuracy to survive each course. The game
moves so fast, however, that accurately placing vines on the fly is a
very trying task, particularly when trying one of the more advanced
techniques. For instance, using vines to catapult Ivy upward over spiked
floors or simply ascend. Even when propelled upward, Ivy continues to
move left or right, granting not even a hint of solace throughout her
journey.
That's journey being a search for her mother, presumed to be missing.
The set-up is that Ivy wakes up in a forest clearing, one day, freshly
hatched from her egg, and doesn't see her mom anywhere. Panicked, she
sets of looking for her mother, which leads her through a number of
static locales such as a city, the frigid lands of the mountaintops, and
the sky itself. Nothing stops this bird. She's on a mission and she
ain't stopping for no one, regardless of the many dangers ahead. She's a
tough bird to manage, therefore, forcing you to be comparatively speedy
with the vine dropping to have any hope of guiding her safely.
Again, trial-and-error is a crux component. Death is inevitable, and
with each failure comes greater understanding of how to proceed, that
knowledge bringing success closer and closer. Frustration starts setting
in after the fourth or fifth consecutive failure -- doubly so when you
die right on the cusp of victory -- but that also makes your eventual
triumph much more satisfying. Overcoming the many obstacles before Ivy
is exercise in vexation oftentimes, teetering on the border of
impossible in a couple levels, even. The strong sense of satisfaction
you get from finally getting past that choke point that's been
tormenting you for the past half-hour counters the immense
dissatisfaction of failure perfectly.
Finishing the story once, which should take around 5-8 hours depending
on your level of skill, unlocks a slightly harder version of the story
mode for your masochistic pleasure. From there, you may also partake in
some competitive multiplayer for up to four players in a race to see who
can finish a level first. You can also replay individual levels to
improve your score, improve your time, and find all of the feathers
dispersed throughout. All of them do a fine job of extending the game's
longevity.
They say you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover; Ivy the Kiwi is
easily a perfect example of such. It seems like a children's game on the
surface, what with the storybook narrative and cutesy art style, but in
reality it's well suited for just about anyone -- particularly those
with a penchant for playing nail-bitingly hard games. It's an enjoyable
little game, if a bit on the vexing side, but that's just part of Ivy's
charm.
