Indie Game of the Week 461: Youropa

Seeing a completely ruined Eiffel Tower is starting to become a startlingly familiar sight in my recent video game playthroughs, but that's what greets you nonetheless the moment you boot up Youropa, the 3D puzzle-platformer from Danish studio frecle (do the Danes have beef with the French? Even if they don't, they definitely have bacon with them). Youropa doesn't have much of a story—it's more concerned with the platforming core—but it does subtextually explore some themes about urban life, breaking society's rules, and personal identity through its graffiti-friendly attitude and a multitude of player customization options. Meanwhile, the gameplay loop involves walking around environments switching gravity whenever you hit a curved slope (i.e. if it curves up from the ground, you're now walking on the wall) to create a much more "3D" sense for each of its small, fragmented, diorama-like levels. In both those respects it reminded me quite a bit of Sideway: New York, a spiritual precursor to the 2D/3D switching mechanic of A Link Between Worlds—Sideway left itself open for sequels set in other major cities, potentially also including Paris, so even if they sadly never came to pass it feels like Youropa is carrying its torch to some degree.

Youropa is a stage-based game but one that encourages backtracking: the collectibles, all of which are cosmetics that can be applied to the player character, can usually be acquired the first time you reach a location but a few might need you to return once you've acquired more upgrades. The game has six of these upgrades (technically seven, but the last one heralds the end of the game and can't be used normally) and they each greatly expand the player's capabilities in ways that are somehow both mundane and unexpectedly powerful. One instance, since I don't want to spoil much, is getting the ability to jump about halfway through the game's level set and how big of a gamechanger that turns out to be after you've been stuck waddling around Captain Toad-style for much of the game prior. The very first upgrade is one that lets you view the level from any angle: the game uses this a few times to hide progression-critical passcodes and the like but in most cases it's handy for identifying the locations of collectibles, switches, and exits. These boons never detract from the core puzzling difficulty however, since you acquire them in a set order and never a moment sooner than planned: rather, it becomes evident how much easier it would've made the previous levels as you move back through them to the hub area whereupon you enter the next set where those new powers are a necessity.

Yep, this all seems pretty straightforward.

The vertiginous platforming is definitely the highlight, as you're frequently required to consider every angle to approach a level and its puzzles. Getting a feel for the area via the look tool can definitely help get your bearings, as does following cables around to see where their switches might be (and the kind of switch it is can be important too—some are the type to need an item to weigh down a button, so you'd better drag something with you if that's the case). Since you paint on your character's appearance, water is a constant threat—to be rendered fully blank is tantamount to dying, saying something once again about the importance of bold individuality—and you'll gradually lose paint from the top of your head on down after taking damage or tumbling into the abyss. That said, actually dying and getting a game over doesn't seem to do anything punitive; you even respawn back at a level's checkpoint if you managed to hit one. You can choose to restart a level manually, which mysteriously wipes some but not all progress (another option actually does reset everything) in case you get stuck or want another shot at a collectible that you missed but otherwise there's very little in the way of punishment doled out here, befitting the game's more laid-back charm. There are enemies in some levels and they're beholden to the same rules you are: getting damaged, falling off the world, and being sprayed with water will either damage or kill them outright, and in the case of the latter their inert forms can be dragged around as weights for switches if you're feeling morbidly pragmatic. Though it toss some frustration your way from time to time, mostly once the other upgrades show up and it becomes more like a normal 3D platformer (albeit a very floaty one), the chill and unhurried vibes really help its appeal.

Aesthetically, the game pulls its stage design from European urban environments and particularly those of Paris where it's set. You'll occasionally get the upmarket café or boutique with the fancy awnings and outside furniture to match but for the most part it's nondescript concrete and road signs scattered around. You'll also find environmental objects that may or may not be involved with the puzzle for that stage: some objects are heavy enough to weigh down buttons but others, like empty cans, offer no role whatsoever beyond being the sort of ubiquitous litter you'd expect to find in an urban environment. Some stages also have spraypaint cans and those let you tag specific walls (you can usually see an outline of what the tag entails) as well as blank clones of yourself: by spraying one of these statues, you unlock new full customization options, rather than the brushes you receive from the pink cassette tapes lying everywhere (which, oddly, don't unlock music tracks). Getting to the statue with a can in hand is often the biggest hurdle: several might take some work to find first, let alone reach. One issue with having so many unlockable customization options is that you're pretty limited early on, which is probably the only occasion where you'll spend any time on customizing your character, and once you've unlocked a few of the full sets you might find yourself opting for one of those rather than moving stencils around to the right places. Your character's visual appearance also starts to degrade over time, I suspect after dying too often, so that might've been included as a way to incentivize coming back to the drawing board on occasion at which point you'll have a lot more to work with. It's a neat idea that doesn't really amount to much, but I suppose it all ties in with the game's focus on self-expression.

I appreciate that the world map looks like a set of subway station routes. It's the type of map urbanites are most used to seeing, after all.

I've always been a sucker for 3D games like this where you can walk across walls and ceilings, any occasional barfy reaction be damned. That it has this pleasant and undemanding approach to its puzzles, along with the variety that comes from incorporating those exploraction-like upgrades into your moveset, made it pretty compelling throughout its run though I'll admit to balking at the post-game time trial mode (it wasn't related to any achievements so I skipped it) and I'm equally a sucker for a good collectathon, especially if picking up said collectibles takes more perspicacity than just playing through the game normally. There are still some mechanics and levels I didn't much care for—anything to do with awkwardly driving a vehicle around a course, for instance, though there were only two of these thankfully—but I appreciate the breadth of content all the same. That I'm still finding these Indie sleepers some eight years after their release speaks to how wide and vast the Indie scene truly is (and how hard it is to get eyeballs on them, for that matter) and I'm glad I'm still discovering gems like this long after the fact. (If the screenshots look familiar, you might be recalling the site's chaotic Quick Look. They got all of GBEast sitting in on that one.)

Rating: 4 out of 5.

<- Back to 460: Mercury Fallen