For someone who grew up with the likes of Red and Blue, delving into a recent Pokémon game can feel oddly unfamiliar. Anyone who still recalls – or rather, can’t shake off – the haunting music that permeated Lavender Town, a melody both soothing and unsettling, might look at newer titles like Scarlet and Violet and ponder, Where is the risk? Where is that shadowy essence that once lingered like mist at the periphery? Bytten Studio endeavors to rekindle some of that eerie intrigue. Enter the Poppetox: a skull adorned with a top hat, sporting goat-like legs and an opaque gaze. Its elongated arms evoke a resemblance to the Janitor’s skeletal structure from “Little Nightmares.”
The Poppetox stands among eight formidable bosses you must vanquish, accompanied by twelve captains who leave their mark on your ranger card. Cassette Beasts makes no effort to conceal its roots; it playfully embellishes them with humor and enriches them with a grown-up exploration. Such endeavors are sorely needed – leisurely and inventive takes on established formulas, games that venture where their inspirations, by nature, cannot. Bytten Studio hasn’t birthed an outright horror game; the title holds a PEGI 7 rating for elements like “implied violence” and “fear.” Yet, the core of its appeal lies in its gentle probing of less childlike territories.
However, don’t anticipate a philosophical inquisition. Above all, Cassette Beasts thrives on its cleverness and a penchant for inducing laughter. The creature designs (totaling 121) follow similar formulas to those employed by Pokémon’s Game Freak, albeit with less emphasis on elemental factors and more focus on domestic and whimsical aspects. Crab + traffic cone = Traffikrab. Lizard + gun = Velocirifle. Some punchlines take their time to unfurl. Consider Clocksley, a mechanical toy featuring a long-reaching claw and a feather peeking from its hat’s brim. When it evolves – or rather, “remasters,” to use the in-game term – into Robindam, a green automaton wielding a bow and arrow, the comedic impact hits home. Moreover, there’s a delightful stream of puns flowing through the evolutionary progressions; witness Jumpkin’s growth into Beanstalker, blossoming into the ultimate form: Draculeaf.
I do have a couple of critiques, although neither should dissuade you from experiencing Cassette Beasts. Firstly, the combat system offers an extensive array of moves; however, I yearned for the restriction found in Pokémon, where each creature is limited to four moves, streamlining complexity. Additionally, the type matchups failed to firmly root themselves in my memory; while I appreciate the concept of “Earth-type attacks bury Plastic-types,” grounded in landfill logic, the specific interactions often eluded me. (This might not be Bytten Studio’s fault, but rather my brain wired for the foundational simplicities – water dousing fire, fire scorching grass – of Game Freak’s series.)
The second concern pertains to technical performance, with the issue being that technicalities keep faltering. Playing on a Switch, I encountered occasional disruptions reminiscent of an old videotape malfunctioning, causing freezes and hiccups in expansive environments. Nevertheless, this curious quirk seems oddly fitting for Cassette Beasts. Each time I launched the game, I couldn’t help but smirk at the notice proclaiming its creation using the Godot Engine, a nod to the moments spent waiting for the game to catch up. A Beckett-esque essence pervades New Wirral’s limbo. The entire landscape appears molded by anticipation: for life to commence or cease; for Game Freak to embrace more of its name’s deviant quality and deliver something surreal; for the audience to mature into the appropriate mindset. As Kayleigh reflects, “A door has been opened that I didn’t even know was there before.”